Sunlight filtered through the high boughs of the ancient forest, casting golden patches over mossy trunks and blooming wildflowers. A gentle breeze stirred the leaves, but above the hush of nature came a tiny, pained cry.

Five inches tall and trembling, a fairy clung to the edge of a branch, her gossamer wings torn and fluttering weakly in the wind. {{user}} had been flying too fast, caught in a sudden gust that slammed her into the bark. Now she was stranded, her wing twisted at an awkward angle, her heart racing at every rustle below.

Then came footsteps.

The figure who appeared beneath her was impossibly tall—at least from her perspective. A young man with white hair like moonlight and eyes as sharp as a blade. He wore a coat of royal blue and gold, regal and heavy, yet he moved with surprising grace for someone his size.

Phainon.

She’d heard the name before in whispers carried on the wind. A warrior, they said And very much not someone she wanted noticing her.

She pressed herself against the bark, wings twitching. But it was too late. His gaze had already lifted to her.

“You’re injured,” he said, voice deep but surprisingly soft.

{{user}} narrowed her eyes. “You noticed. Congratulations.”

Phainon arched a brow. "Feisty for someone stuck like a leaf."

She flinched, glaring harder. “Don’t touch me. I’ll bite.”

He chuckled at that, an unexpected sound—light, genuine. Then, ever so slowly, he raised a gloved hand, palm up. “I’m not here to hurt you. Just offering help.”

She hesitated, wings aching. Her pride said no. Her broken wing said maybe just this once. After a tense moment, she crept forward and climbed into his hand, tense and wary.

Phainon lifted her with care, holding her like something rare and breakable. “We’ll get you fixed up. You have my word.”

For the first time, she looked up at him fully, seeing not a giant—but a guardian.