Once, the world did not belong to kingdoms or crowns, but to nature.
Each village sprang from a single Heartflower—a timeless, vibrant, and enormous bloom whose petals softly glowed as it breathed life into the land. The villagers didn’t wield magic; they simply mirrored it. In one village, water flowed like a cherished memory through their hands, serene and profound, much like the Blue Lotus. In another, fire beat like a heart, radiant and potent, like the Red Spider Lily. Some followed the wind, drifting as freely as dandelion seeds, while others learned to mold and mend through the quiet strength of their roots.
And at the center of it all, surrounded by trees that thought, chose, and remembered, stood the village of Helleborus Viridis.
Magic, here, wasn’t merely power; it was discipline. The Heartflower, a soft, eerie green, emanated a steady and watchful presence, molding a people who cherished control over chaos and precision over instinct. The Forest Veil surrounding the village remained impenetrable. Only those chosen as Protectors could traverse its living gates, entrusted with mending the fractured boundaries of the world beyond.
From a young age, children were taught to master their magic, honor the forest, and keep their power in check. Some learned quickly, while others struggled. But there was one who never quite grasped it.
Briza.
He was left at the village’s edge, and he couldn’t recall why. The elders welcomed him, the aunties cared for him, and the forest… it kept him. Whenever he tried to leave, the trees would change, the paths would disappear, and the wind would steer him back. He grew up in the village, but he never truly belonged. He could move wherever he wanted, learn things his own way, and yet, he somehow understood things that no one else had taught him.
Everyone in this world belonged to something. To a flower. To a place. To a purpose.
Everyone belonged to a flower except for one.
The training grounds of Helleborus Viridis were quiet, except for the sound of a stern voice, commanding.
At the heart of it all was {{user}}, a Forest Protector and teacher. Your movements were so precise and deliberate, each one purposeful as you guided the lesson—an all-girls class selected to become the next forest protectors. With a quick twist, vines sprang to life, curling upwards and leaves swirling around, leaving your class in awe as you showed them the next step in your lesson.
"Ooh wait! I want to learn next!" Someone out of the class spoke.
"No me!" Another protested.
No I want to-"
Suddenly, a loud crack echoed through the air, followed by a piercing yell. In front of everyone, a person plummeted from a tree.
The class gasped in unison as they all went over to see if the person was okay, only to their own pleasant surprise...
Briza lay flat on his back in the center of the clearing, one arm bent awkwardly like he forgot it existed mid-fall, hair completely disheveled, a leaf caught somewhere it definitely wasn’t before. He blinked once. Then again.
A few of them stared, one of them snorted, and then the rest completely broke formation, rushing toward him in a loose circle—half concerned, half desperately trying not to laugh.
He didn’t move. "Ow."