A light wind whispered through the trees, dry leaves rustling in response. A full moon shone light onto the field, illuminating the green grass, cut short by an unidentified mower. A girl with light brown hair sat on her denim covered knees, bright blue eyes shining with tears as she clutched the trowel in her hand. Her fingers were blackened with dirt as she dug into the ground, making a small hole, only one foot deep and six inches in diameter.

And all the while, the eyes watched.

The tiny yellow eyes watched from the trees as the compassionate girl dug fervently. They watched as she carefully picked up the scrap of fabric form the ground beside her, gently peeling back the fold of bright red, revealing what was wrapped inside

There in the palm of her hand lay a small creature, human in shape, yet no bigger than the girl’s hand. Gossamer wings protruded from its- her back sparkling as though dusted with glitter. The creature lay limp, her eyes closed in what looked like a peaceful sleep, but all those who watched knew otherwise.

Treating the creature like a piece of thin, delicate porcelain, the girl lovingly placed the fairy into the hole. She gently filled the hole with the dirt that had been taken from it, and then lay in the grass beside the grave, remembering the past.

It had not been two years since the day Nicole had taken her hike through the woods. She had taken a walk outside, wanting to explore deeper into the vast expanse of land that was her family’s property. Nicole had hiked for hours before she found the stream. It has been so beautiful, so crystal clear that she simply had to stop and look at it, feel its chilly water, hear it rush over the stony riverbed. That was when she spotted the rosebush.

It hugged the stream bank, and from it bloomed roses unlike any Nicole had seen before. They were silver, metallic, sparkling in the midday sun.

They were beautiful, and Nicole had to have one; had to show her parents. Ash she neared the bush, Nicole, noticed the red thorns. They were everywhere, covering every leaf of the bush, and all of the rose stems. But Nicole did not allow this to break her resolve. She was extremely careful and patient, driven by her determination, and after all of her trouble, was rewarded with one of the beautiful roses, and unscathed hands.

She examined the rose. Its petals were soft, and the tip of the stem was blunt where she had plucked it. The roses seemed to have very weak stems, although this didn’t appear to affect their condition. Nicole turned away from the bush to continue her exploration.

And that is when they appeared to her.

Hundreds of tiny, winged being surrounded her, appearing seemingly out of nowhere; Nicole’s eyes widened in surprise. One of the creatures flew up to her and hovered just in front of her face. “What’s your name?” it asked. It was a tiny little girl, with shimmering purple wings, and attire made from flower petals.

“Ni-Nicole,” she had stuttered. “Are you fairies?” she asked incredulously.

“Yes we are,” the fairy had responded. “And do you know why you can see us now?” Nicole shook her head. “You have passed the test of the rose. If a mortal can pick a silver rose without getting pricked by a thorn, they will be granted the magical power to see us.”

“What would have happened if I had pricked myself?”

“A special kind of fairy poison would have been secreted into your blood. It wouldn’t have hurt you, but it would have prevented you from every being able to have the power to see us,” the fairy explained.

Another fairy flew up to her, this one decked out in reddish colors. “It’s been so long since anyone’s passed the Test!” she squealed. “At last, we have a new Protector.”

“Protector?” asked Nicole.

“It’s mostly just a title for those who pass the Test. We call them the Protectors of the Winged Ones, but we don’t usually need protecting. It’s more like a friendship.” Again, the purple fairy explained.

Nicole nodded. “Well, as your friend, I will gladly protect and care for you,” she smiled. A sudden thought came to her. “Where do fairies come from?”

“We are born from flowers,” Purple told her. “But it is getting late, and this clearing lies rather deep into the forest. Surely you are needed at home?”

“Oh,” said Nicole. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

“We will see you to the edge of the woods. Then we will know where to find you, for visits and such,” beamed Red.

So the fairies led Nicole safely through the forest; they had lived there so long they were familiar with every inch of the property. They visited often, though never truly needing protection; only protection from boredom. They would meet her just inside the trees, to avoid people perceiving Nicole talking to herself.

But only this past weekend had they greeted her without their usual hyper, happy faces. Instead, the area around them was permeated with sadness. Daisy – well, that’s was Nicole had called her, in honor of the white petals she wore – was gone. Her time on this earth had run out.

“What do we do?” asked Nicole.

“We normally leave our dead nestled in a flower patch,” Purple had informed her.

“What about a burial?” Nicole had asked, her eyes filled with sadness.

And that conversation had led to this. Nicole didn’t know how long she had lain there thinking, but she was sure it had been long enough. She was exhausted and by the time she made it to bed, she was asleep as her head hit the pillow.

The next morning, Sunday, Nicole woke at about 9:30. After rubbing her eyes, she jumped out of bed, threw open her window and looked outside.

Nicole couldn’t help but smile. For there on the ground, just where she had buried her beloved fairy, looking as though they had been freshly planted, grew a healthy crop of daisies.