A lonely goddess, a Fairy Queen, left her divine pantheon in self exile, and created a garden world of wondrous, imperfect life. After, a god, an Angel, bored of the choir, also left the others behind and sought out the goddess. He found the garden and was amazed by its beauty, and the imperfection that was proscribed by their pantheon. The Fairy Queen almost cast him out, but he implored that he be allowed to stay, and she acquiesced. They remained in the garden together with a warm accord.
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There weren't many people in the small, wooden cottage – only six, including the teacher. Everyone but the teacher wore very simple, roughly woven clothes – donations from the locals. The teacher wore something a bit more sophisticated, but only slightly – a light green dress. Apart from all that, however, the normality ended.
Not a single one of them had a skin tone that could be called human. Each person had a bright, garish pigment to their skin that could probably have been seen from space, if they'd been on Earth.
(spoilers: they weren't on Earth)
And, among everyone in the shack, one person stood out. A dark blue male, far too large for the room, sat on the ground near the back. The chairs were too small for him to sit with the others.
John tried not to feel self conscious as the other four so-called 'children' kept glancing at his overly muscled frame. They all looked like adults, so the fact that they were all being called 'children' regardless rankled. John tucked into his knees further. He alone among the others had to make do with a makeshift outfit made from gifted blankets. The matron had done something to the blankets to somehow magic-up clothes for him in record time - something he was incredibly grateful for.
There was a small cough, and it brought everyone's attention to the front of the room.
"Children," the woman - large, but not huge like he was - up front said to them all, "I'm sure it's been said to you at one point or another by the other villagers, before coming here."
She looked upon them, sad and yet firm with her words, "You died, and you are now in the land of those who live again after death – the Garden of the Fairy Queen, or simply 'the Garden' for short. Some may say that this is the 'true' life, and what you lived before was merely a dream. I do not subscribe to such nonsense, and neither should you. What you lived was as real and true as anything… and it is gone now. I'm sorry."
Before they could process that, she rapped the desk up front with a stick, her eyes sharpening, "But you will have time to mourn, later. For now, you must learn certain critical information that is vital for your future survival."
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But, the Angel became twisted, and rejoiced in causing suffering to the living things in her garden. And so, one day, the Fairy Queen witnessed a profane act by the Angel, violating her beloved creations, and cast him out in horror and fury for the betrayal. The Angel, who had come to love the Fairy Queen, was shocked, for he did not view those who lived in the goddess's garden as worthy of her care. To be rated below the mortals by her, imperfect and sinful as they were, grieved and enraged him to the point of madness. And so he vowed - he would destroy the garden and the Fairy Queen for such an insult.
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"When you arose from death, you may have noticed two things. You emerged from a tree, and while you were attempting to break into the Garden, you were struck by lightning."
John wondered if she was being sarcastic about that. It was hard to forget being struck repeatedly by gigantic bolts of lightning.
The lady saw his deadpan and she had the gall to smile at him and nod. It was a small smile, acknowledging yes, dear, I know, before continuing.
"In this world, the deceased Fairy Queen's grace storms across the land in powerful tempests, and strikes the ground in the form of lightning," the pale white matron lectured, bright yellow eyes looking over her rainbow-colored audience, "In these storms, life flourishes wildly, even in the Angel's corrupted territory – though, not for long, before the malice chokes it out."
One hand went up - an orange colored guy with solid electric blue eyes, closer to the door. He seemed to be struggling with… having fingers, at the moment, but the intent was clear. The teacher shook her head.
"No, I'll answer questions you may have about who is who or what is what later. Your questions might get answered ere I finish. For now, know this," she paused, "The world-trees which you came from are connected to the worlds in which you died. They are the doorways through which the dead ascend into the Garden."
She switched the stick around in her hands until it was tightly gripped in both hands, and delivered an especially severe look.
"If one of the world-trees is struck by such lightning at the moment someone is ascending, they are born into the world as a fairy. I'm sure you all noticed that the villagers were calling you such… they were not mistaken."
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Ok, John thought numbly.
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One day, after a long time of patiently waiting for the right moment, the Angel struck with all his might. The garden withered under his assault, and the Fairy Queen fought with all her strength, but she was soon overcome. Knowing that her end was near, she cast a spell, pouring her grace into it, and created a Mirror with her death. From the Mirror stepped forth a King from the Time Yet to Come. And the King crippled, but failed to kill, the Angel, sending him into the night. The King, alone, planted a seed he had brought with him, and began the arduous task of rebuilding the Fairy Queen's garden.
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"All magic in this world comes from either the Fairy Queen's grace or from the Angel's malice. People born into the garden without grace are mortal and unable to use magic… that's most people, who are not typically struck by a bolt of grace upon rebirth. People born into the world with grace are universally termed 'fairies' and can use magic."
She stopped, and then elaborated, her eyes piercing each of them, "To be clear… don't experiment with your newfound abilities. That's part of the crucial information I have to tell you. It is dangerous for you and others around you at the moment. Please wait until you have received further instructions on that."
John remembered what happened shortly after his rebirth. The… the tar-like monster that had tried to kill those people who'd been helping him. How a torrent of lightning had leapt out from him with almost no thought and fried the bastard, even though he had no idea what he was doing, even though he hadn't even figured out how to have corporeal legs at that point.
He thought of how the people he'd saved were inches from getting incinerated themselves.
No problems here, boss lady, he thought fervently.
"Fairies are able to use their magic in order to accomplish various things," she continued, "But there is an exchange. Fairies who have less affinity may use their magic for most things freely. However, the greater the affinity for grace, the less able the fairy is able to use it of their own free will. Instead, they must be asked to use it - and the intensity of the desire of the one who beseeches the fairy determines what the fairy can or feels compelled to do. A child may beg for the restoration of a precious, broken plaything, and get it, while a man wishing for power and prestige may not."
John thought of the fear of the mortal humans that he'd inexplicably felt.
"Help us! HELP US!" they'd screamed.
He felt… he didn't know how he felt.
Oh… so that's how that works… he thought blankly.
He'd been straight-up used. He… couldn't resent the humans for doing what they did, but still. He'd been used. Like a tool, with no agency of his own.
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The seed grew into a world tree, from which many worlds grew. This tree grew more offshoot trees, and so the garden filled with a forest of worlds. From these worlds, diverse beings ascended into the garden after death. The Good King guided those who were born anew, and made a mighty kingdom of guardians and caretakers encompassing the entirety of the Fairy Queen's garden. Together, they cared for the new garden.
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"Now, you may have noticed, some of you, that not all is right with this world. That there is darkness across the landscape and in patches across the sky. These places you see are poison to you, and are collectively called the Angel's Domain. Stay well away from it – a fate worse than death awaits you if you draw too near."
Then the lady turned her head to look directly at John, who shifted uncomfortably.
"From the Angel's Domain, creatures of the Angel's malice may emerge and enter the living lands of grace. They are called Agents of the Angel's Will. If you see one…"
She frowned mightily.
"Flee. With everything you have. Only trained Soldiers of the King and the absurdly lucky stand a chance against them. Is that understood? Speak up now."
John swallowed, "Understood, ma'am."
She looked around, then sighed.
"I wasn't just talking to him, you know," she waved around the room impatiently with her bright white arms, her green dress swishing through air with her exaggerated movements, "All of you now, say it with me! You do not fight an Agent when you encounter one, you flee. Is that understood?"
"Yes, ma'am," everyone chorused.
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The Angel, bitter in his defeat at the hands of the Fairy Queen's champion, recovered over the centuries, evading the searching King and his soldiers who sought to stamp him out for good. He plotted and he schemed and he raged, but he waited with wise patience until the god was ready to strike back.
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"That is all, for now. It has been a long day for you all. Your education may continue after a week of rest," she said, softening her tone somewhat, her yellow eyes glowing, "And of mourning. It was merely important to communicate the basics to you as soon as possible, so that you would not put yourselves in danger."
John looked around. A bright pink man was hunched at his desk, and a light green woman was looking to the side with a melancholic expression, enough for him to see that she had reddish-orange eyes.
Then he lifted a hand, looking at his clawed fingertips and frowning at the dark blue skin of his palm. He'd seen how the other fairies looked - aside from the psychedelic skin and eye colors, their ears were all pointed and their teeth were all sharp like a B-movie vampire's. And, he'd seen his own eye color when passing a body of water near his… world-tree – bright, glowing violet.
They all looked every bit as fey as the term 'fairy' implied – impossible to mistake for a human. That hadn't stopped John from trying very hard to deny it for the few minutes he'd had until that – that Agent had found them.
I… died… he thought to himself.
He processed that.
… I wasted… so much of my life in law school… he thought slightly hysterically.
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One accursed day, the Angel renewed his vicious assault upon the garden and upon the King's capital, seeking to destroy all that remained of the Fairy Queen. Untold multitudes perished and were corrupted in the tide of dark magic. The King became besieged in his citadel, protecting it and the Mirror with his magical might, and chaos descended. By the end of that day, the Kingdom had fallen.