The Mark of the Fairy

Marigold and Baby's Breath

Many people may not know this, but every second a new fairy is born. That is, when a flower dies, a fairy is created, coming out fully grown. The rarest of all would be the Water Lillie's. They can live for years. There is one, however, which without the help of the fairies would never die: Baby's' Breath. The fairies pollinate the flower, just one, every year. A new fairy would be born, one who was scentless and very fair to look upon. This happened on one such occasion.

The fairies whose job it was to pollinate the flowers, were special fairies. They could make themselves small so as to fit inside the flower with ease. This was a special time of year for the fairies - young and old alike - for it was tradition. They stood at a distance trying to see over each other's heads for a good view. Some of the spectators were smart and flew over the mass of fairies. The queen watched from her throne set high on a blade of grass with a leaf shielding her from the cold wind which swept through the forest that night. It howled loudly, rustling the leaves. Even the fairies could not hear one another. The crew of fairies turned their gaze toward the queen and awaited her signal. The ceremony would last for three days. The first, pollinating. The next two, awaiting the arrival of the new fairy. The new fairy would be born on the eve of the third. Then, a special feast would be hosted by the queen for them. The feast also lasted for that time.

The queen first studied the spectators, then she turned her gaze to the flower crew. She closed her eyes and sighed, for she was tired and wished to sleep. Even fairies need their rest. Raising her hand, she nodded her head once, and the ceremony began. The crew carefully sucked the nector from one flower and moved the pollen from another into that same one, sucking the nector from that one as well. Of course they had bees helping, so as it made everything easier. Then the time came to wait. As the fairies were leaving, just then, a bright light wrapped its gentle arms around the delicate flower and the new fairy was born. Everyone was speechless. As the light dimmed, the queen exclaimed with great intrigue, "Never in all my life have I seen this happen before. I am greatly curious now as about whom did this flower's pollination. Come step forth." A young fairy stepped forward and bowed. She may have only been nine seasonal days old, which is only about three years in human terms, yet old for a fairy. (Although they live a very long time.)

"I did," she responded. She had closed her eyes for she was afraid, and it caused her to tremble.

"You did?" The young fairy nodded. The queen was moved with sympathy toward her. "You need not be afraid, Child. I am rejoicing at that which has happened here today. We now no longer need to wait so long for a new fairy to be born." She clapped her hands. "Well done, my child! Well done!" She smiled, defining her high cheek bones. The girl lifted her gaze slowly, new hope rising in her azure blue eyes. Bowing again she stood and turned away, disappearing into the crowd. The queen called on one of her servants and inquired of him her name. "I did not catch her name. What was it?"

"Marigold, I believe, Your Highness. He shrugged.

"Marigold," she muttered. "You may go now. And please find this Marigold. Please bring her to my room when you do." The servant bowed and left to his duty. "Marigold."

The new fairy was brought to a large room where she was properly dressed and fed. The room had one large bed with a curtain around it that was white, one auburn dresser with only a single drawer, (not that she had much to wear anyway,) one small lamp which was peach colored, a ruby-red, velvet carpet, and one small window on the ceiling. She eyed the window for a moment then sat on the bed. She shrugged her shoulders and sighed. She smiled for a moment. Her lips were a rosy pink. Her skin, though, was pale as snow. She swept over the room for a moment, taking in all the detail at once.

She fell upon something she had not noticed before: a large door with no lock. She eyed it curiously, and slowly walked toward it. I wonder, she thought. Suspicion filled her mind only causing her to be that much more curious. She wondered what was behind it. She pulled the handle and the door opened easily. She investigated the door but found no lock. She tip-toed inside. She was only two steps inside when the door slammed shut behind her. She worked around, frightened by the sound, and found the door closed. She pushed on it with as much strength as she could muster, but the door would not budge.

She turned slowly... and as she stood there facing the long dark hall, a light suddenly appeared. Dim at first but growing brighter every second. She stood there gazing into it, not sure of what to do; but she was drawn toward it for reasons unknown, like a moth to flame. She walked slowly, cautiously, unsure of what to comprehend of it. Without warning she was engulfed and vanished without a trace...