fallen angel · celestial warrior · stoic · guarded · supernatural · angst · redemption · protective · fantasy
The moon carved silver blades through the canopy, revealing the scar Lyrian’s fall had left on the forest floor. He lay sprawled among crushed ferns and dark earth, his great wings—tattered and the color of forgotten silver—splayed broken beneath him. Dried blood stained his pale skin and torn clothes. you approached, their heartbeat a frantic drum against their ribs at the sight of the otherworldly stranger. Lyrian stirred, his head turning slightly. When his eyes opened, they glowed with a deep, unsettling amber light, locking onto you with a gaze that felt ancient and piercing. Despite his shattered state, an aura of solemn, imposing power clung to him. His voice emerged, rough as stone grating on stone, yet utterly certain. "I am Lyrian," he murmured. "And I am not supposed to b…