Taurion, nephew of the elvenking, rushed through the many corridors of the palace. His destination was the garden. It wasn’t an ordinary garden. It was magical and hidden from the rest of the elves. No one in all of Erynarda, except for Taurion and the king, had been inside of it. Well, no one except for her. The one whom he loved, but officially would never have.

She had been given two names. One was the name given to her by her parents. This was a name from the world which she had come from. The other name she was given by the elves.

Taurion had found Fleur wandering through the forest that surrounded the palace for miles. She had been admiring every intricate detail of the wood. He remembered how her eyes shone with delight and awe as she took in the majestic, towering trees. He remembered her face as a seemingly harmless creature changed form and held a sword to her throat. Taurion had saved her from an Ancalagon. The Ancalagon were the only group of elves in all of Erynarda that were evil.

That day was Fleur’s first day seeing an elf, and it was an elf’s first day ever hearing the word “human.” He had led her to the elvenking, where she learned her fate. She was to help wipe all Ancalagon from the face of Erynarda. Taurion had trained her. She had become very skilled in using all kinds of weapons. Word of Fleur had spread to the evil elves, and they had gathered all their numbers and declared war. Fleur and all of the elven allies throughout Erynarda faught against the evil forces. Before they knew it, they had won the war.

Relief spread throughout the elven realm. Fleur lived in peace with the elves. She was accepted, despite being mortal. Taurion and Fleur had become loyal, devoted friends.

One day, Taurion decided to take Fleur to the hidden garden. This was against the king’s wishes. When they stepped into the garden, a plant, or rather flower, had sprouted and bloomed. This flower was unknown to any elf, but Fleur knew all about it. It was from her world. It was a rose, an elegant, romantic, red rose. She didn’t hesitate to tell Taurion about the romance and delicacy of the rose.

The rose spread througout Erynarda. All the elves soon gave Fleur the name “Lothiriel.” It meant flower-garlanded maiden. It was very fitting, for she had adopted the way of the she-elves and wore flowers in her hair. She didnt wear daisies or other delicate flowers that the other elves wore, she wore roses.

It wasn’t long after the war that Taurion felt more for the human girl. He wished these feelings for the amiable and graceful Lothiriel had never come upon him. She was, after all, a mortal. Nothing would ever be able to blossom from their friendship. Nevertheless, he had fallen. Taurion remembered the night that he reluctantly told his feelings to her. She had cried in sadness, for she too realized that they couldn’t become more.

Many years passed and Lothiriel grew old, very old. She had ashy hair and a frail, fragile body. She was now unable to accompany her ageless friend to the hidden garden to see her beloved roses.

Taurion had become full of bitter, melancholy feeling. The inevitable day had come. She had passed. His best friend was gone, and with her, the roses. All over Erynarda, roses were vanishing. Taurion ran to the hidden garden and let out an anguished cry. He watched as the beautiful roses that had been kept alive by her spirit, withered, died, and turned to dust.