"Rowan?" she said, her voice soft and airy, like the distant chime of bells carried on the wind. It was a voice I hadn't heard in years, yet it slipped through the cracks of my memory as if no time had passed at all. A voice from a childhood long buried—one I never thought I'd hear again.

"It is you!" She smiled and clasped her hands together as she hovered in front of my face. "I have dreamed of the day I would be free..." Her smile faltered and she glanced at the ring before saying, "Oh, not free yet. I can still feel the tether, but I am not trapped in that stone anymore!"

"This cannot be happening," I said, shaking my head as I removed the ring from my finger and held it up. "You're a figment of my childish imagination. I dreamed you up... I stopped imagining your existence when I turned eleven... You're not real, Aria."

"Rowan, I can assure you—I am very real!" Aria countered, stomping her foot midair and thrusting her arms down at her sides, though the action did little more than send a ripple through the shimmering wings keeping her aloft. "You did not imagine my existence. The human world is forbidden to my kind, but you were so sad—it was heartbreaking. I took it upon myself to make sure you smiled."

I laughed, "That's very sweet, but I don't believe you! My sanity is in question."

She giggled, and the sound triggered a distant memory. I looked at her face more closely.

Bathed in a soft glow that resembled moonlight, Aria hovered before me, no taller than my hand, yet breathtaking in her ethereal beauty. Her luminous silver-white hair cascaded down her back in weightless strands, drifting with the faintest movement of her wings. A delicate crown of midnight blooms and pale blue petals adorned her head, as if woven from the twilight itself.

Her large, luminous eyes—unnaturally bright, almost glowing—locked onto mine with an intensity that sent a shiver through me. Fiery hues flushed her cheeks, accentuating the stark contrast of her porcelain skin. Her lips, a deep shade of red, parted slightly as if she were about to speak, but in that moment, words were unnecessary.

The gossamer fabric of her dress shimmered like stardust, clinging to her delicate frame, while her wings—thin, iridescent things—flickered behind her, keeping her aloft with an almost imperceptible hum. Despite her size, she exuded an air of undeniable presence, a force of nature wrapped in fragile elegance.

For a moment, I could do nothing but stare. She really was Aria—the one friend I had in childhood, who knew all my secrets and sorrows.

"Here," Aria said, extending her small hand toward me. "Raise your hand."

I did as she instructed and raised my left hand. Though it was a subtle feeling, I felt her hand touching the tip of my middle finger.

"You're real," I whispered in awe, turning my palm upward to let Aria rest her wings. Her smile remained bright as she folded her legs underneath her.

The warmth of her presence was startling—lighter than a breath, yet undeniably solid. A faint hum vibrated through my skin where she sat, the subtle energy of her wings still thrumming with life. Her touch was impossibly soft, like the brush of a petal against my palm, yet there was a quiet strength in the way she held herself, as if the very air bent to her will. A delicate warmth lingered where her fingertips grazed my skin, carrying the faintest trace of something floral and wild—like morning dew kissed by moonlight.

"You said you were trapped in my ring," I said, shaking my head. "That is why you stopped coming to see me... Who trapped you?"

"I haven't the slightest inclination," she replied, shaking her head—her hair brushed over her shoulders with the motion. "I wasn't able to move or speak, but I knew you were near. Your presence gave me the strength to be patient and the hope that one day I would speak to you again... How did you come by the ring?"

I froze, but the words tumbled out of my mouth like mud in a landslide.

"My uncle gave it to me," I said, exhaling in disbelief. "But he never believed you were real. How could he trap something he never saw?"

"I cannot confirm or deny anything, Rowan," Aria said, her smile encouraging. "It is very possible it was just a coincidence. Don't let it worry you."

"But I am worried. You said you still feel tethered to the ring. What if you are pulled in again?"

Her smile softened. "Oh, I think I will be all right. So long as you intend to keep the ring on your finger, or on your person."

I returned her smile—a light fluttering awoke in my chest. A strange sensation, like butterflies' wings. Or fairy wings.

"So, you're a real fairy?" I asked, glancing up the path which led back to the house. The sun was now gone, leaving only a dusky glow on the horizon as shadows stretched long and the first stars timidly flickered to life.

"Very much so," Aria replied, sighing. "My kind have lived secretly in Cherrywood Grove for hundreds of years."

"Do you think your people will know that you've been gone?"

She pursed her lips and sighed.

"We are creatures of balance," she murmured, tracing an absent pattern on my palm with her fingertip. "When one of us is missing, the harmony shifts—like a song missing a note. Whether they knew what happened to me or simply felt my absence, I cannot say. But if they are still there, they will know I have returned."

A flicker of unease passed over her face, brief but unmistakable.

"Are you afraid to go back?" I asked.

Aria hesitated, her wings giving a single, uncertain flutter. "I do not know what awaits me," she admitted. "Time moves differently for us. I could return to find everything as it was... or find that everything has changed."

Her words sent a shiver through me. If her people had forgotten her, if her home was no longer hers—then what?

"Then... I will help you find a way to cut the tether from the ring," I found myself saying before I could think better of it.

She blinked at me, startled, before her lips curled into a gentle smile. "Thank you, Rowan."