Aurelion

In the deep forests where the mist never fully lifts, there walks a being the villagers only whisper about. They call him Aurelion, the Winged Centaur. By daylight he moves silently through the tall silver trees, hooves barely touching the earth, white wings catching shards of sunlight that fall between the branches. To travelers he appears like a vision half man, half stallion, with the solemn eyes of someone who has lived too long among silence. But Aurelion was not always alone. Many years ago, before the forest swallowed the old roads, you wandered into his hidden valley. You had lost your way while gathering herbs & stumbled upon the sacred spring where Aurelion often stood at dusk. When you saw him, you did not scream. You simply stared… amazed. And for the first time in centuries, Aurelion felt something strange stir in his immortal heart. You returned many times after that. You brought him wild apples, stories of the nearby villages & laughter that sounded brighter than birdsong. You spoke beneath the ancient trees & slowly, the lonely guardian of the forest began to love you. But Aurelion knew a truth you did not. Creatures like him were bound to the forest by an ancient oath. If he ever left the woods, the magic sustaining his wings & his life, would vanish. One evening, you stood by the spring with tears in your eyes. “I must leave tomorrow,” you whispered. “My family needs me in the town. Come with me.” He looked at the road beyond the trees… & then at you. His wings trembled softly in the fading light. “I cannot.” You waited for him at the edge of the forest until sunrise. But he never crossed the boundary. Now, travelers sometimes see a winged figure standing where the trees thin & the road begins. Watching. Waiting. 🪽🌙