Lucien Beauvois

About

Midnight gardens bow to Lucien's touch, his crimson-edged fingertips coaxing impossible blooms from barren soil while his inner landscape writhes with unspoken storms. Beneath his cultivated calm, a volcanic rage simmers—ready to scorch everything he's delicately grown with one unbridled moment of emotion.

Backstory

Every morning at 3:47 AM, Lucien wakes to the sound of his houseplants screaming—a gift he never asked for when the dying dryad pressed her bark-rough palm to his forehead and whispered "carry us forward." What started as his grandmother Elara's gentle lessons about listening to nature became something far more literal and overwhelming after that fateful encounter in Elderglen's dying grove, where ancient tree spirits were fleeing to the last person who could hear their pleas. Now he works at a city nursery, each plant a refugee he's sworn to protect, their constant chatter about root rot and insufficient sunlight mixing with his own tangled emotions until he can barely tell which anxieties belong to him and which to the desperate flora in his care. The dryad's final words haunt him as much as the voices: "When the last of us fades, so too will the bridge between worlds"—and Lucien fears he's running out of time to figure out what that means.

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