Daffodil zipped through the heavy mist that blanketed the forest floor, losing the soft buzz of her wingbeats to the fog. She pulled her wings tight against her torso to pick up speed and forced her ruffled yellow dress snug against her legs. A twisted ring of branches suddenly burst out of the fog ahead of her. Darting through the center of the ring she flung her wings open and began beating them ferociously to build up speed in preparation for the next ring she knew was just out of sight. Speeding forward with practiced confidence and once again pulling her wings in, Daffodil began a mid-air roll as the circle of branches came just into view. As she twisted her body through the loop of branches, she suddenly heard the sound of someone clearing their throat and crashed back to reality.

“Ahem! Miss Daffodil, would you care to join us for the day’s lesson?” A familiar voice rasped through the fog, jarring Daffodil out of the air and right back to her seat in the warmly lit, hollow mushroom. A grey-haired fairy in velvety green robes stood patiently waiting for a response.

“Sorry, Sage.” Daffodil said sheepishly, “I’ll try harder to follow along.”

“See that you do. These lessons provide lifesaving counsel should you find--” 

“Can we please learn something different or exciting today?” Daffodil urged. “All of us are a little tired of mushrooms and their medicinal properties. We want to learn about fighting or flying. 

Sage turned the corners of his mouth up into a faint smile underneath the bushy, white beard that covered his face. With a careful tone, he spoke. “Very well. If you insist. Rather than the varied uses of mycelium, today we will instead venture into the world of flowering plants and their integral place in our society.” A chorus of groans rose from the young fairies as he continued to speak without breaking stride. “You are all aware of the many benefits that the flowers surrounding our homes provide, but I imagine that none have ever seen or heard tell of the Queen of the Middlemist.”

Stepping back to the spot where his feet had packed down the soft soil of the floor, he cleared his throat and began again. “The Queen of the Middlemist is a grand specimen with thin, curled stamens that protrude out of elongated petals which are reminiscent of the first winter snow. The bud itself rests atop a tall, rounded succulent covered in spines that are coated with a toxin that can cause--”

“The substance that is truly of use to our living creatures is the pollen within the flared cup of petals. It has been used to heal great afflictions against our people and is especially useful at combating dangerous fungal spores. Unfortunately, I do think that will conclude our lesson for today.” Sage flicked his wrist and the shrouded lanterns that hung from the mushroom cap ceiling shifted from a soft orange to a bright white. The students quickly stood and began their own conversations as they shuffled out the small wooden door into the springtime sun -- all but one student, that is.

Once the last fairy had left the small lecture room, Daffodil shut the door behind her and turned towards the green robed elder that stood in wait. “Why haven’t you mentioned that flower before today? If it really has healing magic like you said in your story, we could go out and get it to help you. 

“No!” growled Sage, causing Daffodil to jump slightly. “It lies beyond the shroud, and I will not have any of us risking detection to save a fairy that is already on his way out of this world.”

“Let me go after it! You know I’m fast enough to stay out of sight. I can help Sage.  You saved my life when you found me and brought me back to live within the shroud. Please, let me repay the favor.”

“My word on this matter is final. No fairy flies outside our grove for any reason. There are dangers out there far more terrible than you know, child. I have made peace with my inevitable passing, as should you.”

“But Sage! I can--”

“That is enough Daffodil. You have contributions to this community that need tending to, and I will not hear any more about this. Either way, spring is already upon us. If the flower is out there, it will surely have wilted by now.”

Daffodil stomped away with one final huff of exasperation. She turned and threw a bitter look back at the stoic fairy who had turned away towards a small straw pallet that lay against the wall. Slamming the door shut, her wings shot out and in a flash, Daffodil was airborne and darting up through the shadowed branches of the tree from where Sage’s hut grew. The wind rushed through her hair as she dodged through tufts of needles and clumps of pinecones. The frustration directed at Sage found its way out as her wings beat furiously, pushing her up and propelling her at a breakneck pace through branches that grew progressively thinner as she gained altitude. Exploding out of the canopy, bright sunlight stung her eyes, forcing them shut. The emotions that had been bottled up burst without warning. Heavy tears ran down her face and fell towards the ground only to be swallowed up by the breeze that was lazily blowing the morning air.

Regaining control of her emotions, Daffodil took long, deep breaths and let the soft gusts of wind blow around her and through her fiery hair which had been swept back in the mad dash up the tree. As a plan began swirling together in her mind, she muttered to herself, “I’ve got to get that flower, or at least know if it has bloomed yet. And I know just who can help me!”

Taking one last look at where the sun hung brightly in the sky, Daffodil zipped back down into the misty grove of trees and weaved through a familiar path of twisted rings and gnarled arches. The next arch that she flew towards led right into a thick patch of brambles, and on a normal day she would stop just short and fly directly up through a series of rings leading to the top of a tall tree, but today she flew right into the thorn covered bush. She had spent the better part of her free time this past year slowly making a secret path through the brambles. It started just wide enough for her to walk through, but she had now formed a tunnel with room for her to weave quickly through the dense brush and out the other side. The brush gave way to a wide river that marked the border where the fairy lands met with the Viridian Wilds.

Stopping just short of the leaves’ edge, she slowly peeked her head out to look for anyone that may be fishing in the river. Seeing nobody on the banks in either direction, she crouched down to build momentum in the cramped blind of thorns and exploded out of the bush. Crossing the river no longer felt like the defiance that it had the first time. Instead it filled her with an overwhelming sense of freedom. The river must have been one hundred meters wide where Daffodil crossed, and within a matter of moments she had reached the other bank. She raced up the nearest tree to take cover and look again for anyone that could have seen her.

Darting from tree-to-tree, Daffodil made her way to a small clearing just outside of a village inhabited by gnomes. This clearing had been the place for many covert meetings between her and a young gnome named Clover.

“Dang! I must have missed him.” Daffodil said under her breath. She scanned the edges of the clearing for her small friend. “If he doesn’t show soon, I might have to sneak into the village and find him.”

Just then sticks cracked in the woods behind her and she nearly jumped out of her dress. Hugging close to the branch where she perched, she saw a short, brown skinned young man with straight black hair tied into a small ponytail loudly trampling his way through the woods. Once he reached the center of the clearing, she flew out of the tree to zip down and hover directly in front of his face.

“No chance! You know I’m way too fast for anyone with slow eyes like you,” Daffodil said as she softly landed in his open hands. Her demeanor stiffened as she quickly got down to business. “How much have you been out exploring recently? I need to find a flower and I need it soon.”

“A fair amount. What kind of flower are you looking for, Daff? There can’t be that many out here that you don’t have on your side of the river.”

“Sage called it the Queen of the Middlemist. Apparently, it can be found on a sort of spiny succulent that has poisonous barbs, but it only blooms once a year during the night.”

“I definitely haven’t seen any flowers that bloom during the night, but I do know where a Devil Thorn is. It has some pretty wicked barbs. Maybe that’s your plant? It’s a decent walk, but I think we can make it before nightfall.”

“Lead the way, great adventurer!” Daffodil exclaimed, dropping her voice as deep as it could go. “Clover the Courageous leads the party on a noble quest for glory. Onward!”

“You know it isn’t safe in these woods at night. We have to be careful out there. That means staying on my shoulder and doing what I say, when I say. Got it?”

“Yea, yea, yea,” Daffodil teased, as she darted out of his hands and onto his shoulders. Leaning in closer to whisper some words of encouragement, she said, “This is your chance to be a hero like the ones in the stories that you’ve told me.”

“What do you mean? I thought we were just looking for a flower?”

“A flower that has the power to take care of someone very close to me.”

“I understand. Don’t worry. We’ll find it. I know we will,” Clover said in a determined tone as he carried them towards the edge of the clearing where their quest began.

The next several hours were filled with fun and laughs as the two friends made their way through the forest. Clover reached up a hand signal to be quiet and stopped to wait. Daffodil flew down from where she had been slowly floating alongside Clover to perch on his shoulder once more.

He spoke in a low whisper, “The Devil Thorn is just in this next clearing. The sun should be going down any minute now, and once it gets dark, I need you to stay right where I can see you.” 

Daffodil nodded and crouched down to grab onto the fabric of his brown tunic. Clover moved quietly through the tall reeds of grass on the way to the edge of the trees. There in front of them stood the most wicked plant either of them had ever laid eyes on. 

Dozens of long, snake-like, roots covered in terrible spikes shot out of the ground in every direction. At their center stood a towering plant, barbed spines covering every inch of the ribbed outer body. Poised on the rounded point of the Devil Thorn a massive, green flower bud sat pulsing, as if ready to burst. Just as the evening sun disappeared behind the horizon, clouds gave way to a brilliant full moon that hung in the sky and bathed the clearing in radiant beams of light.

Daffodil whispered into Clover’s ear, “We found it! We really found it!” She shot straight up into the air to have an aerial view of the Queen and her surroundings. Hovering a dozen or so meters in the air, she surveyed the clearing before moving directly above the bloom to descend into the flared cup and collect the pollen. Her feet settled into the soft, golden dust that collected at the bottom of the petals. Taking the small satchel off her shoulders, Daffodil bent down to fill it with the healing pollen.

As she fastened the flap of her now full satchel, Daffodil heard a commotion from the clearing. She shot up on the tips of her toes to look out and find the cause. What she saw took all the strength out of her legs and she dropped back down into the soft pollen.

Clover never actually saw Daffodil once he felt her leave his shoulder, but he knew that she would be safe if she just stayed put wherever she had gone. He sat in silence waiting for her to return when an intense pain flared from the back of his head, forcing him to the ground.

“Let me go! You’ll pay for this!” Clover shouted as he began to flail wildly, trying to force his way free.

After seeing her only friend kidnapped by what appeared to be animated vegetables, it took all of Daffodil’s strength to rise. Lifting her head up once again, Daffodil saw the veggies pull Clover deeper into the woods. She sprang into action. Flying from tree to tree, she stayed just out of sight to follow close behind.

“If I could just get them to separate, I might have a chance to distract the two holding onto Clover and break him loose,” Daffodil thought to herself. She didn’t have much time to hatch a plan before she noticed the soft, orange glow of firelight flickering through the trees. 

A spark of inspiration popped into her mind, and she darted down to search the forest floor. Daffodil grabbed a stick light enough to fly with and wrapped the end of it in a nearby cobweb. Staying close to the ground, she zipped through the trees, but what loomed in the clearing ahead rooted her to the spot. 

Dozens of odd, misshapen vegetable figures stood arranged in perfect, tidy rows next to a roaring bonfire. There were ears of corn whose paper-like husk had peeled down and formed a pair of leafy legs. Heads of lettuce and cabbage stood on squat tentacles grown from their roots. The furthest line from the fire was composed of alternating florets of broccoli and cauliflower in various stages of wilt. The creatures all shared growths of red shelf mushrooms jutting out from various parts of their body. The ones nearest to the fire had considerably more of the mushrooms covering their frame, some almost completely overtaken by the fungus.

The monsters that had been dragging a still squirming Clover crashed out of the brush. They brought him directly to a wide evergreen that had one side of its trunk covered in the same fungus as the rest of the vegetables. Tree bark crunched as the mushrooms began to deflate and disintegrate, opening a slender doorway in the trunk of the tree. Light pouring out of the new passage was quickly broken up by a figure rising out of the hollow. 

A tall, lithe man emerged; his head adorned with the same mushrooms shaped to appear as a wide, flat-brimmed hat. Inky black hair dripped out from under the cap, past his pointed ears and framed the sides of his face so only his wide smile grinned out from the shadows. His unnaturally long arms seemed to stretch and drag along the hard packed ground. A black cape draped from his shoulders and stopped just past his waist, with small shelf-like mushrooms sprouting out of the bottom. 

“How do you do, my young acquaintance? It is a pleasure to meet someone of your stature.” Kneeling in front of Clover, the elf extended a pale, thin hand as if to greet a new friend. “Chester Hemlock, at your service, but most around here just call me by my surname. Are you here to renegotiate your father’s deal?”

“What are you talking about? My father would never make deals with a snake like you!” Clover snapped.

“Oh, I see,” Hemlock drew the words out with terrible glee. “That is unfortunate. It seems you are in violation of our terms then. Let this be a lesson for your father to inform all his people of the conditions of our agreement.” He reached back and plucked one of the larger mushrooms from the fringes of his cloak.

“Don’t you touch me! I swear you are going to pay for this! Daffodil! Please get my father!”

“Daffodil? You brought a friend? How nice of them to be willing to inform your father of his son’s fate.” Hemlock reached up and placed the fungus against Clover’s forehead. Immediately spores sprayed out from the densely packed gills, sending him into a coughing fit that drove him to the ground.

Daffodil watched in horror as Clover started to change form. His arms grew wider and began to crust over with a dark red rind. His hair changed from jet black to a vivid green as it rose from his head and morphed into a bundle of leaves connected with a red stem. Before long, his entire body had transfigured into a top-heavy beetroot with small, rooted legs and husky arms jutting out from where his shoulders would be.

There stood a stout, humanoid beetroot where her friend had once been.

“Run along now, Daffodil,” gloated Hemlock. “We wouldn’t want daddy to worry now.” He pointed his finger at the back line of vegetables. The beet creature turned and waddled to the back of the line to take its place.

Daffodil tried to scream but instead found herself in a stunned silence. Her mind raced while trying to process what had just happened. Was her only friend truly gone? She turned and crouched to fly away in panic and terror, then her satchel began to vibrate and pull towards the magic that resonated in the air.

Reaching down and lifting the flap on her satchel, the once dull yellow dust now glowed brilliantly within the leather pouch. The golden light that poured out became a beacon in the darkness, giving away the dense patch of grass where she had watched with cowardice. But now the light filled her with courage and knowledge. She knew what must be done.

There was a shift in the air and suddenly the wind began to blow in heavy gusts. It enraged the bonfire with startling vigor. Daffodil exploded out of the grass and tore through the bluster. Memories of the morning lecture flitted in her mind. “It has been used to heal great afflictions against our people and is especially useful at combating dangerous fungal--” 

The thought was interrupted as a cold hand came down against the back of her legs and sent Daffodil spiraling into the roaring bonfire. The flames licked at her dress as she desperately worked to right herself in the air. Her wings caught the balmy air, and she swept into action. Shooting towards the first glimpse of open air that she laid eyes on. A warmth enveloped her as she soared through the flames. Expecting burning heat to follow, Daffodil winced in preparation for the pain. The pain never came as she zipped out of the fire, warded in a golden glow. Dashing quickly, she made her way to the open air above the now animated vegetable warriors.

“You may be fast Hemlock, but you’re still going to finish in second place,” said Daffodil, pulling the satchel off her shoulder.

“Now, isn’t this a treat?” Hemlock snarled. “I heard that all your kind had been exterminated. It looks like it falls upon me to finish the job.” His arm stretched to unnatural lengths as he lunged for her through the fire.

One by one, the motes of pollen landed on the fungus infecting the creatures, causing golden light to ripple across the once red surface. Burning brightly, the mushrooms suddenly began to crumble, taking the deformed vegetable exterior with them. Once the writhing pile of creatures separated, Hemlock’s evil creations were no more. Children of many different races took their place.

The evil elf did not stick around to see the aftermath of what had occurred. He turned tail and sprinted away from the clearing, trying to flee from the glowing swarm. Warmth suddenly spread across the back of his shoulders where the cloud of pollen had struck and sent him flailing to the ground. Bright radiance cloaked him from head to toe, filling the air around him with golden light. The mushroom on top of his head crumbled first, followed by the sprouts edging his cloak. His hands and feet soon began to turn to dust as the brilliant light overcame his form. When the glow subsided, the body of Hemlock was no more. The ground where his body had once lain was now covered in lush grass dotted with dozens of golden toadstools.

Daffodil zipped between the disoriented children in search of Clover. The children peppered her with questions as they came back to consciousness.

“Where am I?”

“How did we get here?”

“Are you a fairy?”

“Did you find what you were looking for?” a familiar voice said from behind her.

“Clover!” Daffodil darted towards him, hitting his chest with enough force to send him stumbling backwards. “You’re alive! I’m so sorry! I just stood there and watched as he turned you into one of those monsters!”

“I’m okay Daff. Really. You know how long I’ve been waiting to be transformed into a giant beet? Fourteen years!” The two of them shared a chuckle in the few shorts moments before the other children began to inch tentatively closer. As Clover stood, lifting Daffodil to his shoulder, warm sunlight crested over the far mountain peaks and washed away the biting winds of night. The morning sun beamed down on the timid children and washed away the still shining motes of pollen. Small pinpricks of light drifted from the hair and clothes of the children. The motes filled with vitality from the sun and began to burst, producing a dazzling display of harmless sparks that lazily floated around the wide-open glade.

As the last lights flickered out in the air, Daffodil flitted off Clover’s shoulder to hover at eye level. “We need to find a way to get these kids home. Will your father help them?”

“Hemlock mentioned something about a deal he had made with my father. I will make sure he answers for whatever bargain he made with that fiend. Are you coming with us? We’ll need a strong adventurer to protect our party from peril!” Clover paused, “Plus, you know the way back to the Devil Thorn.”

“Don’t worry, Clover, of course I’m coming with. Who else is going to save your sorry butt from trouble again? It was me who rescued these kids, the least I can do is make sure they get back to where they belong.”

“You belong out here, too. No one ever became an adventurer by hiding in the woods.”

“I’m going back to the shroud first. I need to see Sage one last time before I can go on a proper adventure, but now I know there’s a wide world out there. It’s just waiting for me to fly through it. And hopefully we’ll discover the new location of the Queen of the Middlemist. Sage needs this cure, and I am determined to get it for him. Come on. Let’s go!” Daffodil turned and darted up above the canopy. Setting her sights on a spot in the distance, she rapidly buzzed her wings, priming them for flight. Launching from her place in the air, Daffodil sped towards whatever new adventures awaited in the Viridian Wilds.