Outside the town's thick stone walls, there was an old, brittle beech tree. It stood a little isolated from the rest of the forest, its dry twigs reaching up high into the sky and gracefully toeing the air over the stone. From up there, one could see bits of the human town, terraces and stairs and houses, all intricately woven together and bedded into the stone.

Other twigs this cheeky might have been cut a long time ago, but this tree was old, and humans took pity on it, knowing its end was near. They also didn't want to risk upsetting the fairies, the vulnerable, pounding heart of nature. They were small, smaller than even a newborn of theirs, but harming a fairy would in turn harm nature. There had once been a greedy prince that captured a fairy for himself, keeping it in a golden cage, and in turn, all the roses in the kingdom had wilted away.

Jongdae was a Myosotis fairy, and wasn't too certain whether humans could appreciate their blue petals, or would be sad if they were gone. It didn't stop him from flying up to the highest branches of the tree though, his wings shimmering in all shades of blue and a little bit of soft pink. If humans noticed him, they'd usually stare or be slightly afraid of this being they could neither understand nor control. One day, though, when it started to rain without warning, surprising the little fairy with hard raindrops hitting his thin wings, one particular human saw him and cupped his hands over his head, protecting Jongdae from the rain.

“Poor fairy, can you not fly in the rain?” the human asked. “This is a really mighty tree, you'll hurt yourself if you fall.”

The human carried him on his hands, setting him up on a nearby windowsill.

“This is my room, so don't you worry about resting here. No one will harm you. I'm sure the rain will stop soon.”

"Thank you," was all the little fairy knew to say. The human just smiled and went his way, leaving the little fairy to sleep on the sheltered windowsill until the sun broke through the rain, drying his wings.

From that day on, Jongdae wanted to see the human again.

From that day on, his fate was sealed.
 

Outside the town, just beneath that old beech tree, Jongdae felt at home. A lot of fairies roamed the meadows, but Baekhyun was his favorite one. Baekhyun was exceptionally tiny, even for a fairy, with wings shimmering in every color imaginable. But Jongdae didn't like him for his pretty wings, no, he liked him because Baekhyun was always in the mood to play. They'd zoom over the high grass, play hide and seek or play tricks on animals or fairies. They'd even chant songs together, hoping for the flowers to grow stronger. Baekhyun was always up for whatever Jongdae had in mind, was around most of the time, really, which is why he got disappointed when Jongdae told him he'd rather be alone. He was a stubborn fairy, too, even more stubborn than Jongdae himself, so one day, he sneakily followed Jongdae up into the tree branches.

"What are you looking for?"

Jongdae got such a shock that he almost fell out of the tree.

"Baekhyun," he said, both accusing and embarrassed, "why did you follow me?"

"Because I wanted to know where you're going without me every day," Baekhyun freely admitted, because he wasn't one for lying or skirting around. He was wrapped all over Jongdae's back now, curiously trying to get a look at what Jongdae was looking at, but finding nothing of interest. That is, until Jongdae's breathing picked up, and he made himself a little smaller.

"What, what is it?" he asked eagerly, but Jongdae hushed him, finally pointing up at a window, where a human was bustling around, humming a song to himself. Now Baekhyun could see, but he couldn't understand.

"What about him?"

Jongdae shot him an apprehensive look, then his eyes were glued back on the human again.

"He's really beautiful," he finally said.

Baekhyun wrinkled his nose, and looked up at the window again. He looked like a regular human, pasty, boring, and way too tall. Nothing like the shimmery fairy Jongdae was. He was lacking all the colors.

"You really think so?"

Jongdae didn't bother replying, so Baekhyun was left staring at the human, waiting for him to turn prettier, but he didn't. And his tune was entirely off-key; it almost hurt his ears. Jongdae, however, sighed wistfully, and Baekhyun didn't understand.

The following days, Jongdae got less and less energetic. Baekhyun noticed because playing with him got less fun. Before, Jongdae could chase after him endlessly, but now he got exhausted at some point. And the point came a little earlier with each passing day.

He still flew up to see his human every day, no matter how insistently Baekhyun asked him to stay, bugged him, got pouty or even whiny. Every day, without fail, Jongdae would go and see the human until even Baekhyun had memorized him from head to toe. Jongdae's human was even taller than the rest - which was scary to Baekhyun - and he was loud, too. He laughed and smiled a lot, which was nice, but that was still no reason to devote so much time to watching him. Baekhyun would rather watch Jongdae watching the human. Now that was a beautiful sight.

Playing together was getting harder with each passing day, for both Jongdae and Baekhyun.

One day, when Baekhyun was chasing Jongdae across the meadows after finding him in a game of hide and seek, the other stumbled and hit a plant, only to tumble to the ground miserably. Baekhyun was by his side in an instant, carefully holding Jongdae as he coughed his heart out. He coughed and coughed, and it wouldn't stop. Baekhyun patted his back, rubbed it, told him it would be okay, but Jongdae kept coughing until Baekhyun feared for his life. He was already praying to mother nature to please not take him away just yet, when Jongdae finally stopped. He dropped into the grass, wheezing for air, his small body completely exhausted.

In the grass lay a tiny, perfectly intact Myosotis flower in a rich, soothing blue color. Jongdae didn't seem to notice, so Baekhyun reached for it, curiously turning it in his palm.

When Jongdae started coughing again, he quickly stuffed the flower into his pocket to help him, and didn't mention it afterwards.

There was even less playing after that. Jongdae just couldn't do it, even if he wanted to. He was pale and exhausted, and he was still coughing a lot. He tried to hide it from Baekhyun, but the other was around a lot, so it was hard to keep it from him forever. There was this itch inside Jongdae that just wouldn't go away. It felt like something was stuck in his lung, making every breath fluttery and wheezing, and begging him to cough. He didn't want to worry Baekhyun though. He already felt guilty for not being able to play hide and seek with him anymore.

The only thing he could still do every day, without fail, was visit the pretty human up in the town. Sometimes, he even noticed Jongdae. Then he would wave and smile and just be happy the fairy was around. That alone was so weirdly honouring that Jongdae got fidgety and suddenly felt like zooming through the air in excitement, if only his lungs wouldn't itch so much. And whenever the human would look his way, they just started itching more, to make it all worse.

One day, Baekhyun was beside him, dangling his legs and complaining about how bored he was, when the human waved at both of them, wishing them a wonderful day. While Baekhyun didn't bother replying, Jongdae yearned to reply but was caught in another violent coughing fit, strong enough to make him fall off the branch. Only with Baekhyun holding him and Jongdae fluttering his wings as much as he could could they tumble to the ground unharmed. But Jongdae's biggest fear wasn't falling off the tree. It was Baekhyun seeing what was happening right now. Because Jongdae had started to cough up flower petals. Only a few, at first, but then there were more and right now, Jongdae couldn't stop retching and coughing to get all those itchy little petals out of his lungs. He felt miserable, too miserable to hide it any longer. And the petals wouldn't stop, to the point that Jongdae felt like he was suffocating. There was the vague feeling of Baekhyun's hands on him, and he was saying something, too, but it was impossible to hear him over the sound of his own coughing.

By the time it finally stopped, his lungs burned, and every intake of breath was shaky, careful, and invested into crying. Jongdae couldn't stop crying, because everything hurt, and because they were both sitting in a little sea of blue flower petals now.

It was no use, his fate was sealed.

Nature was taking him back to free him from his misery of loving one who wouldn't love him back. And the human wouldn't love him back, for he was just a little flower fairy.

Bit by bit, the Myosotis flowers would fill up his lungs until he was one with nature again.

"Please don't tell anyone," Jongdae whispered, his voice too raw to speak.

Baekhyun didn't reply immediately, and Jongdae got even more nervous. But then Baekhyun sighed, a sigh more befitting for a being much older than him.

"Alright. It will be our secret."

Jongdae thanked him, wanted to apologize, too, but Baekhyun told him to save his breath and get some rest, pushing him down to rest his head on his lap.

Jongdae tried to keep his breathing shallow as he dozed off to the beautiful sound of Baekhyun humming a tune and weaving a flower crown he had brought along, not minding the scattered evidence that Jongdae was dying. And Jongdae was grateful for that, because there was nothing they could do about it, anyway.
 

A few days later, around dawn, when the town was bathing in golden sunlight, the young scholar Chanyeol found something on his windowsill. He would always look that way, hoping to maybe see the sweet little fairy sitting on the branches of the old tree, but today, there was no fairy. There was a tiny ring lying on the windowsill though, and he carefully placed it in his palm, fearing it might break under his touch. It was woven of greenery, with a single, tiny Forget-me-not bedded into the center. Now that he looked at it so closely, the petals and leaves were shimmering, and rather hard. It seemed like they had been coated in resin, to make them last longer.

His first thought was that the fairy must have forgotten it. But the fairy had never ever stepped on his windowsill again, because fairies were shy beings. It must be meant for him. Chanyeol thought that it was too pretty to just wear it, but it would also be rude not to, so he tried to slip it over his ring finger, where it fit best. It was the most beautiful piece of fine jewelry he had ever worn, pure and captivating. He really, really liked it.

Fondly, Chanyeol stared at the old, brittle tree, gently touching the ring.
 

Jongdae was worried about Baekhyun. The other had become more somber recently, and instead of bugging Jongdae to fly around and tease some squirrels with him, he much preferred just sitting in the grass, weaving more flower crowns. It made Jongdae even sadder, but he couldn't expect the other fairy to stay cheerful even when he was obviously withering away. And even if Baekhyun asked him to play, Jongdae knew he couldn't. He couldn't even sing for the flowers anymore. He had truly become a useless fairy.

He didn't want to cry again, didn't want to worry Baekhyun more, but he was just so sad and scared. Baekhyun just smiled at him and patted his lap again, sitting still just for Jongdae, as he busied himself weaving and weaving. At some point, he even plucked the blue petals out of the grass to add them into his flower crown. Jongdae felt ashamed of that, but Baekhyun said there was nothing to be ashamed of. That the petals were beautiful, Myosotis were beautiful.

Humans called them Forget-me-nots. Jongdae wondered whether the human would remember him even if he stopped waving at him from the tree branches. He wanted to fly around, maybe even away from this place, but he was just too tired.
 

Every day, when the sun was rising or setting, when the room was dipped in gold, Chanyeol would look for the tree branches, absently touching his ring. He'd been told to take it off, to retrieve it to the fairyland, but Chanyeol was sure that it was his. He felt it. And he couldn't take it off. He hadn't told anyone, but he'd tried and found it impossible to do so. But that was alright, because he didn't want to take it off, not really.

Whenever everything was dipped in a rich golden light, Chanyeol would leave his room, walk along the wall just outside of his house to look into the tree branches with an unreadable gaze.
 

At this point, Jongdae couldn't play anymore. He couldn't sing anymore, he could barely fly anymore. Whenever he woke up in a heap of petals, he was both surprised and relieved. One more day. Maybe this one would be the last.

He crawled out of his little home in between the healthy Myosotis flowers, looking at all the petals he had lost in his sleep. No one would think anything of it, finding them there.

Jongdae thought about what he wanted to do today. He was thinking more carefully about how to spend his days now, as each one might be the last. He came to the conclusion that he wanted to see the wildflowers again, at the border of the forest. With Baekhyun, of course. But first, he should go see the human, as long as he still had the energy. Whether it would be wiser to avoid him, Jongdae didn't know. It wasn't like he had a choice, anyway. He had to see the human, no matter what. He had to, or else he'd think about it the entire day, and then he'd start coughing again. The coughing was so bad that Jongdae dreaded it and had to avoid it at all costs. Baekhyun would be unhappy about Jongdae wasting his energy to fly up to the highest tree branches, so he'd go alone, before the sun had truly risen. He had to be quiet, since Baekhyun lived in between the tree's roots, but Jongdae would just fly up on the other side. There were people around the tree though, multiple humans. Jongdae hid in the high grass, observing them. His first thought was that they might hack down the poor tree for good, but that wasn't it. They just talked and then they lifted something off the ground and left. Jongdae waited until they were out of hearing range and sight, before half-flying, half-walking to the tree. He was hit by the terrible stench of death, so bad he had to desperately clasp his nose, only to taste it on his tongue. There was blood everywhere, smeared across the grass blades, drying on the ground. Feeling sick, Jongdae toed around the blood until something caught his eye. There, in between the bloody grass, lay a flower crown. Jongdae lifted it, and his heart almost stopped when he saw the full, perfect Myosotis flower in the center of it. He couldn't remember coughing up a whole flower, but there it was. With the flower crown grasped tightly, Jongdae took off, flying after the humans. He had to understand, and he had to know. He had to zoom past the gates and up a flight of stairs, with humans staring and whispering, but Jongdae didn't pay them any heed. Just keeping his wings fluttering already required all of his strength. He quickly caught up to the humans from earlier, flew in between them, ignoring the ruckus that he was causing, and hovered over the bloody remains of the pretty human that had been so kind to him.

"He killed himself. He’s already dead, fairy," one of the humans said, as if asking Jongdae to not hold a deeper grudge. They didn't understand, not at all. Jongdae fluttered down to rest on his cheek, clasping the flower crown to his chest as tears rolled down his face.

"It brought back his ring," one of the humans murmured, as if Jongdae couldn't hear them, couldn't understand. Jongdae stared at the flower crown through his tears, and then placed it on his beloved human’s cheek, where it crumbled to golden dust between the cold, dead skin and Jongdae's warm one. It dissipated like a spell that was being resolved. And only now did Jongdae think of Baekhyun, of the countless flower crowns he had woven, almost all of them looking just like the very one that had dissolved into nothingness before his very eyes.

Overcome with anger, he took off for the tree, off to see Baekhyun to demand an explanation. He may not have liked the human, but Jongdae had, and seeing him dead was worse than dying himself. He flew through the grass blades fast enough to make them whip his arms and legs, but he didn't slow down. All around the huge tree did he fly, to find the spot where Baekhyun had always lived, in between the old roots. Huffing, Jongdae came to a halt and hopped down the roots, almost stumbling over his own feet, blinded by anger.

He yelled for Baekhyun, but there was no reply. Instead of the usual mess of trinkets, Jongdae was met by... flower crowns. Many, many flower crowns and a sea of tiny, green leaves where Baekhyun usually curled up to sleep. Jongdae felt numb as he stepped closer, touching one of the many flower crowns.

He had never paid enough attention to notice that aside from the blue petals Jongdae had been spreading everywhere, they were all made of only one type of leaves. They were of a rich, dark green and all had this shine to them, feeling hard and sturdy under his fingers. Jongdae looked at all the leaves strewn around.

How could he have missed that Baekhyun had never been a flower fairy? Baekhyun was a tree fairy. A beech fairy.

Jongdae suddenly found it hard to breathe, but not because of flower petals in his lungs, but because of the sadness clogging up his throat. There were way too many leaves. Too many, more leaves than Jongdae had coughed up petals. And there was no trace of Baekhyun.

He reached for one of the flower crowns, woven of beech leaves and myosotis, and pressed it to his chest. He could see it now, could understand how the intertwined grief of two fairies had taken the human away.

He was crying freely now, without any restraints, because the petals in his lungs were gone. With the death of the human, they had dissolved like the flower crown, just in time.

He stumbled out of Baekhyun's home, the vague, faintest hope that it wasn't too late yet driving him on. In his haste, he stumbled over a tiny stone and ended up in the grass. He would have gotten up immediately, if it wasn't for what he saw up there, in the sky.

There was green, so much green. The old, sick beech tree had come back to life, green, healthy leaves stretching along even the tiniest branch. It was the biggest, fullest, most beautiful tree he had ever seen.

Jongdae grasped the flower crown even tighter. Even if he died right on the spot, it would be too late for Baekhyun. Nature had taken him back home, and the tree was sparkling with life, the life of Baekhyun.

And Jongdae cried, cried like a child, until he was all out of breath, but it still wasn't as suffocating as the petals had been. And above him, Baekhyun was shining in the leaves, rustling in the wind and throwing a thin layer of light and shade down at him, as if to comfort him.
 

One day, a little fairy was born, bright and of a kind nature, loved by all of the forest. He was only a few days old when he found the biggest tree he had ever seen, right next to the human town. Maybe any other tree would have been cut down for being so dangerously close to the wall, but apparently, humans had a deeply ingrained respect for this tree. There was this story whispered through the air, carried by the wind of thousand tiny voices, that one day, the fairies cursed a human and then sacrificed him to revive the tree.

The fairy didn't believe that. The tree was magnificent, rich and healthy, warm and comforting. There was no way this tree was thriving off of a pained, withered soul.

All around the thick trunk, a sea of blue flowers bloomed.

Forget-me-nots, Chanyeol thought.

Even though he knew they were actually called Myosotis. So strange.

Around his neck, the flower crown he had been born with, felt a little tighter than usual.