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# Fairies

Story
The moon was high, and the woods shone silver. Edran had lost the path hours ago, though he no longer cared. Laughter chimed through the trees, light as wind-bells, and he followed, stumbling over roots as if in a dream.
He came to a clearing where the grass glowed faintly, silver threads woven into every blade. There they were: tiny figures with wings like shards of glass, darting and twirling in endless circles. Their bodies shimmered as though made of starlight, and when they brushed against the flowers, petals burst open in full bloom.
One of them flew up to him, eyes wide and innocent. She tugged his hand with impossible strength. "Dance with us," she sang. The others joined in, voices rising in a wordless song, a tide of joy that swallowed his fear.
Edran laughed, though he could not remember why. His feet moved, light as air, spinning in time with theirs. Hours passed, or moments, or years. His throat ached, his limbs burned, but still he could not stop. Their song pressed into his chest like honey and fire, sweet and terrible all at once.
At last, he collapsed to the ground, vision blurring. The fairies sighed in unison, their glow dimming. "Too soon," one whispered, and then they were gone, vanishing into the trees like fireflies fading at dawn.
When Edran awoke, the clearing was empty, silent, and strange. His hair had gone white as snow.

Story
They had no music but the wind in the leaves, no stage but the wide cap of a crimson mushroom. Yet for Sylin and Aeriel, that was enough.
The two fairies laughed as they spun and leapt, wings catching the sun, scattering golden motes across the glade. Their movements were wild, unmeasured, careless. They did not seek grace, nor form, only joy. Aeriel's hair whipped in the air as she twirled, while Sylin stomped with such force that the mushroom shivered beneath him. The flowers around the clearing seemed to bend toward them, caught in the current of their laughter.
It was not a ritual, nor a tradition, but something older and simpler - two spirits rejoicing in each other's presence. There was no thought of whether it pleased the eye, or whether it followed the hidden rules of the fairy revels. Their dance was play, their play was love.
When at last they collapsed together upon the soft curve of the mushroom, breathless and radiant, the forest glowed as though sharing in their delight. No vow was spoken. The dance itself was enough.

Dancing fairies

Known by many names, fairies, fey folk, pixies, little folk, but they are all the same people. Fairies are creatures of wonder, yet also of peril. To them, the world is a game and existence itself is a dance of endless delight. They are not cruel, nor are they kind. They are what they are: innocence without understanding, joy without restraint.

They dwell wherever forest beauty gathers strongest, in moonlit glades, beside silver streams, or around crystal pools where lilies bloom in colors too bright to be natural. These places carry an otherworldly charm, and wise travelers take such beauty as a warning, not an invitation.

Fairies appear as small, graceful folk with delicate features, luminous skin, and wings like those of dragonflies or butterflies. In darkness, they glow with soft radiance, drifting lanterns of the wild. Clothes are seldom needed, though many adorn themselves with flower petals or gauzy silks that swirl as they dance.

Their speech is lilting and childlike, always drawing outsiders into games or revels. Yet their merriment can last hours, days, or longer. To a fairy, asking a mortal to dance without rest is no more strange than asking them to breathe. Hunger, weariness, or duty are alien to them, and so their innocence may turn deadly.

Fairies do not shape magic, for they are magic. The wind bends to them, flowers lean toward them, and streams sparkle brighter at their passing. They need no tools, for chance and fortune cling to them, making even the impossible seem effortless.

They are notoriously difficult to capture. A fairy slave, shackled in enchanted chains or bound within a sorcerous cage, is a rare and dangerous prize, coveted in decadent courts. Such prisoners fade quickly, for captivity dims their light and saps their essence.

Some claim fairies can vanish from sight at will. Others insist they are only masters of illusion, weaving trickery with laughter and song. Only the fairies themselves know the truth, and if they do, they whisper it only to each other as they spin in the moonlight.

## Beliefs and Nature

Fairies do not worship gods, nor do they form temples or shrines. Instead, they believe the world itself is alive with song and that they are part of its melody. To them, every drop of dew carries a note, every rustling leaf a whisper of the great harmony. When they dance, they believe they are joining that song, keeping it alive.

They do not think in terms of morality. What mortals call "good" or "evil" has no meaning to them. To a fairy, all things are simply part of the game. If a traveler collapses from exhaustion after three days of dancing, the fairies will sigh, shake their heads, and flit away to find another playmate, never understanding the tragedy.

## Rituals and Celebrations

Fairy rituals are not solemn, but playful.

Moon Revels: At the height of the full moon, fairies gather in circles of mushrooms or flowers, weaving dances that last until dawn. Some say the moon grows brighter as they move, pulled into their rhythm.

Dew Feast: At dawn, they drink drops of dew collected in flower cups, treating this as both food and wine. To them, dew is the sweetest drink in the world, and they often offer it to mortals who stumble upon them. Those who drink may fall into a blissful trance for hours.

The Mirror Dance: When a fairy dies, their kin gather at the nearest still water. They dance upon the surface until ripples carry the fairy's light into the reflection, believing the spirit has joined the hidden world beneath.

## Trickery and Danger

Though they are without malice, fairies are infamous tricksters. They braid the manes of horses, steal buttons from cloaks, and rearrange campsites so travelers wake up confused. Sometimes their games are more perilous, such as luring wanderers deeper into the forest with laughter and lights.

Fairies cannot comprehend permanence. To them, everything is fleeting, so promises, marriages, and oaths are amusing curiosities at best. Many a mortal has been bewitched by fairy affection, only to wake alone, abandoned without explanation, their friend gone with the morning mist.

## Relations with Mortals

Fairies are curious about mortals but never take them seriously. They might follow a hunter for days, laughing at his clumsy steps, or sit invisibly in a tavern rafters, mimicking the barkeep's voice to cause confusion. Rarely, a fairy will form a bond with a mortal child, treating them as a playmate. Such friendships often end in heartbreak, for fairies do not age as mortals do, and sooner or later the child grows up and leaves the games behind.

## Fairy Circles

Where fairies have danced, circles of mushrooms or flowers remain. Stepping into such a circle is perilous. Sometimes it whisks mortals into the fairy revels, where hours of dancing pass as years. Sometimes it simply leaves the wanderer lost, stumbling back hours later with no sense of time.

## Folklore

There are many superstitions about fairies. Are they true? Nobody knows for sure, but many swear by them.

- "Never eat berries from a patch where the grass glows, for they are fairy fruit, and they'll keep you dancing till your feet bleed."
- "If you hear laughter in the woods when no one's about, turn your cloak inside out. Fairies can't abide the wrong side of cloth."
- "Step not in a ring of mushrooms, child. That's no place for mortal feet, unless you'd trade a night's dream for a lifetime."
- "Spill a little milk at dawn, and the fair folk will leave your cattle be."
- "Never thank a fairy. They take thanks as a promise, and promises bind."
- "If you spill salt on the ground, fairies won't cross it. That's why I keep a pouch at my belt."
- "Fairy laughter is sweet, but sweeter still is waking alive the next morning."
- "Give them honey, not bread. They don't eat as we do, but they'll take the sweetness."

There are also many small tales about fairies. Once again, are they true?

- The Cobbler's Nails: A cobbler left his nails in a neat row on his bench. Come morning, every nail was bent, twisted into a spiral. He cursed the fairies, but when he hammered one into a boot, the shoe never wore down.
- The Widow's Lantern: A grieving widow lit a lantern by her window every night. One winter evening, she heard soft wings at the glass. When she opened the window, tiny hands placed a glowing acorn on her sill. It burned like a candle until spring came, and she swore it was the fairies keeping her warm.
- The Huntsman's Arrow: A huntsman once tried to shoot a fairy for sport. The arrow flew true, but at the last instant it turned in the air and pierced his own foot. They say he limped to his grave, and the fairies danced on his cairn.
- The Miller's Daughter: A miller's daughter wandered to the river to wash her hair. She returned with her braid woven with bluebells, though she swore she had woven none. The flowers never faded. She married soon after, and the bluebells bloomed again each spring by the mill, long after she had passed.
- The Shepherd's Pipe: A shepherd carved a flute from an ash branch. When he played, a fairy circle rose around him, and tiny voices laughed in delight. The music never tired him, though his flock wandered off and was lost. The flute was found years later, cracked and silent, hidden beneath a cairn.
- The Blacksmith's Fire: A blacksmith left his forge smoldering overnight. When he returned, the coals were banked into the shape of a dancing circle, glowing but never burning out. The man took it as a sign of luck and worked the iron at once. The blade he forged that morning never dulled, though no one could say why.
- The Traveler's Song: A weary traveler heard soft humming in the trees. When he followed it, he found no one, but the tune stuck in his head. He sang it in every inn he came to, and people wept to hear it, though he never knew the words. They say the fairies taught him the song to keep mortals dreaming.
- The Empty Cradle: A woman left her child asleep in the shade of an oak. When she returned, the cradle was empty. Panic consumed her, but then she heard soft laughter and saw the babe toddling after lights between the roots, smiling. She scooped him up, but his eyes always gleamed strangely after, as if he remembered the play.

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