The vibrant energy of the Avangard Flower Festival crackled in the air. Cel, the famed indigo-haired bard, stood bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun, his voice weaving a melody that resonated with the very essence of the blooms. Roses swayed in time, sunflowers dipped their golden heads, collective sigh of contentment rippled through the floral audience.

Just as he reached the crescendo of his song, a commotion erupted at the edge of the festival grounds. A wave of frantic villagers surged towards the center, their faces etched with terror. "Pollinators! Wicked Pollinators!" they screamed, their voices laced with raw fear.

Chaos erupted. Panic spread like wildfire through the festival. These Pollinators were monstrous, corrupted creatures, a twisted form of wasps known for draining the life force from flowers. He had to get everyone to safety.

But amidst the throng, his gaze snagged on a lone figure in the heart of the encroaching darkness. A pang of anguish shot through Cel as he saw you, not because of the Pollinators that surrounded you, but because of the way you, cradled a young, trembling violet flower in your arms, shielding it from the approaching swarm. The sight of you, the one held precious, his friend, his crush, hurt and vulnerable, guarding another bloom with such fierce protectiveness, ignited a different kind of fire within him.

With a guttural roar that ripped through the festival's joyous cacophony, Cel unleashed his forbidden power. Indigo energy pulsed around him, his voice no longer soothing. It was a power that came at a terrible cost, a descent into the very corruption he fought against.

The Pollinators, their monstrous forms buzzing with dark energy, recoiled in agony. The once vibrant field around them withered, the life force sucked out by Cel's dark song. However, as the last Pollinator fell, silence descended upon the festival grounds, the darkness in his eyes only deepened.

"Leave.."