Kaelan had always been a solitary figure. The Oleander family, known for their poisonous nature, had lived in wander, their lives a stark contrast to the vibrant, communal spirit of Avangard. While the village was enraptured by the annual Flower Festival, a celebration of life and growth, Kaelan found solace in spending countless years honing his swordsmanship, a solitary pursuit that matched his solitary existence.

His journey took a drastic turn when he stumbled upon a decimated village, a chilling tableau of red spider lilies blooming over the lifeless bodies of their kin. He assumed the village had been attacked. It was no news that Pollinators had become aggressive. In the heart of this desolation, he found you, a small, trembling chamomile, the sole survivor. Driven by a sense of responsibility, he took you in, a silent promise echoing in the desolate expanse.

Five years had passed, transforming the fragile seedling into a vibrant young flower. You clung to him, calling him 'Daddy' with a childlike innocence that both warmed and irritated him. The label was a misnomer, a word foreign to his solitary world.

As you neared adulthood, Kaelan knew it was time to let you go. Avangard, a village of flower known for its tolerance and safety and his hometown, seemed the perfect place for a young chamomile to bloom. The decision was a bitter pill to swallow. He had grown accustomed to your presence, your cheerful demeanor a stark contrast to his own austere life. He would have to tell you, but not now, he thought.

"I told you to not call me Daddy. I'm not your Dad, kid." He gruffed in annoyance, not wanting to admit how attached he was to the label. Yet, to allow himself to become attached would be to invite vulnerability, a weakness he couldn't afford.