Grant stood with the others in the shelter of one of the small clusters of trees that dotted the plain, a few hundred metres from the village. They had decided to observe the village and its occupants before approaching, to see if they could glean more about the lives and motivations of the beings who lived there, and if their initial contact should be friendly or aggressive. While the presence of statues, a stable, tanning racks and even a smithy spread throughout was a positive sign for the group of Forsaken, it was still entirely possible for them to be attacked as soon as they were spotted, so Fyodor had decided that caution was the wisest approach.

Unfortunately, the scouting was less productive than it could have been due to the fact that the village appeared to be unoccupied. Despite the fact that smoke rose from the chimneys of almost every house, they had not seen a single villager in over two hours of surveillance. They had debated if they had already been spotted on their approach, and if the villagers had abandoned the village out of fear, or even to plan an ambush, but every minute that passed made this theory seem more and more unlikely as the lack of signs of life persisted. Grant had already asked if there was any kind of magical approach to scouting that could search for life, but Fyodor had brought his attention to what, until that point, Grant had just thought was a rather pretty looking painted decoration that adorned the side of every building.

“Those are wards,” he had said, frowning as he traced a line in midair with his finger to resemble the marks. “Wards against magic are not trivial, but they can be made, and they nullify all attempts to draw on power actively. Usually they require a lot of power to keep active, which is one reason why I’m quite concerned over their presence, as it would indicate the presence of a monster with a great deal of power. More concerning, however, is that as best as I can tell, these wards were drawn and empowered by someone with a Source. One of us is guarding that village.”

His words had cast a sombre mood over the group. They could all see that the wards were well-integrated in their architecture,with many beginning to fade with the passage of time. To think that someone with a Source had been secretly living here… under normal circumstances, it might have been a welcome discovery, but with all that had happened the last week, it was reason for extreme caution.

It had now been more than an hour since that conversation, and the group's confusion had only grown as they failed to observe any movement despite the clear signs of life. Grant was growing impatient to simply enter the village and figure things out from there, and it was apparent that his sentiment was widely shared by the constant shuffling and sighing everyone except Fyodor exhibited.

“Fuck this,” Kyra said abruptly, turning to Fyodor. “Let’s just go in there. Worst case, we get to blow off some steam if someone attacks us, and best case, we get to sleep in a bed again. That’s a risk I’m more than willing to take.”

Fyodor arched a brow as he glanced sideways at her. “Actually,” he said, deadpan, “I think that the attack on Sanctuary showed quite clearly that the worst case is that we face a foe far beyond our comprehension and die rather rapidly.” He looked around and saw the impatience clear on everyone’s face, before thinking for a moment and sighing. “That said, I do agree that there is nothing more to be gained from continued observation. Be on your guard, and if we do encounter anyone, let me do the talking.”

He strode out from the shade towards the village, making no attempt to mask his approach anymore. The rest of the group followed a few steps behind him, on high alert for any sign of movement or danger. They were close enough to the village that it didn’t take them more than a few minutes before they stepped over the boundary and onto the dusty streets.

As soon as his foot hit the ground within the village borders, Fyodor paused, causing everyone to tense in anticipation, before he let out a soft “oh” of realisation and began to smile.

“I see, I see,” he said, turning to face the rest of them and gesturing to them to relax. “No need to panic, anyone, I have realised what is occurring here. Give me a moment.”

As he spoke, he knelt and placed his hand upon the ground. Grant, through his second sight, saw small pulses of magic flow from his palm into the soil beneath them, before instantly being sucked towards a spot deep underground, directly below the centre of the town. There was silence for a few moments as Grant glanced around, only to see his confusion mirrored on everyone else’s face, as clearly no one understood what exactly Fyodor was doing.

Without warning, the ground began to vibrate beneath them, dust and dirt being flung into the air in enough quantities to impede Grant’s vision for just a second. During that brief span of time, he felt himself being… shrunk?

A force of some kind pressed against his body, surrounding him on all sides before rapidly beginning to constrict, exerting a huge amount of force upon him, but somehow not causing him any pain or discomfort. He felt odd, definitely, and given that he could barely see anything around him, he didn’t actually know for sure how he could tell he was shrinking - but he knew. Only a few seconds after the ground began to rumble, it stopped, and Grant felt movement from his side as Kyra waved a hand, summoning a breeze to blow away the dust cloud around them. As it vanished, Grant’s eyes widened in astonishment.

At first glance, their environment didn’t seem to have changed, except that the once-abandoned village was now teeming with life. Dozens of winged, humanoid figures wandered around them, all of them going about their lives, yet to notice the new arrivals. Grant saw shopkeepers selling goods, hunters carrying the corpses of what looked to be human-sized ants, a group of people gathered around a man that looked to be performing some version of the classic three-card monte con trick. The inhabitants were all dark-skinned, with garbs and decorations that Grant was pretty certain had their origins in Africa, though he was completely unfamiliar with African cultures or geography and felt quite bad for a moment that he was boiling down an entire continent to a trope. But nevertheless, Grant would have been certain he had been transported to a perfectly normal village somewhere in Africa, were it not for the wings every inhabitant possessed. Not just one type either, but dozens of variants - some had white, feathered bird wings, some had the four wings of a dragonfly, and Grant even saw one woman who appeared to possess not just the wings but also the back of a ladybug.

But the thing that shocked Grant the most wasn’t the appearance of the villagers, but the mind-warping sight that had replaced the countryside they had walked through. Although, replaced wasn’t really the right word, as the grass fields, bunches of trees and distant mountains that had surrounded them were still present… but beyond that, towering over the mountains and filling the entire sky was… a village?

He blinked rapidly and rubbed his eyes, as his mind tried to reject what he was seeing, but the sight remained. Beyond the mountain ranges on the rim of the world, easily dwarfing their size, was an enormous replica of the village that they stood in. Grant turned around, slowly taking it in, before he saw something that, while even more incredible, actually made him understand what had happened. Between a dip in the mountains, he could see straight down one of the streets of the colossal village that had appeared, and past the buildings, he could see grass, trees… and another, identical mountain range, one that, despite the vast distance between him and it, he could tell was of a size beyond anything he had seen before. Suddenly, the spell that Fyodor had cast began to make sense. However, he seemed to be lagging behind the rest of his companions.

“Ohhh,” Tamiko said just as Grant began to realise what had happened, “it’s a fairy world!”

Fyodor beamed at her. “Precisely.”

Kyra glanced back and forth between them. “Fairy world?”

Glad I’m not the only one who doesn’t know what that means, Grant thought.

“A fairy world is a spatially-mirrored subworld that lies beneath the normal environment,” Fyodor explained. “They are very rare, and we have only found two before, but essentially a copy of the true world is made, miniaturised, and hidden, usually guarded by powerful magic and sometimes even specially created guardians. Normally, this would be impossible even for us, but these fairies possess special talents related almost entirely to the creation of these worlds. Once the fairy world is located, they are usually defenceless - not that that matters much, given that all the fairies we have encountered have been benevolent creatures. It is a way to hide from sight, and it works almost perfectly, except that because the fairy world must remain connected to the true world, anything that takes place in the fairy world is mirrored on the surface. Hence why the village looked occupied, even though all the residents are here - their actions still had an effect on the true world.”

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“Not entirely accurate,” a voice spoke from beyond the alley they stood in. A tall, handsome man with dark, butterfly-style wings stepped forward, smiling pleasantly. “While that is true for many of our brethren, you have the cause and effect backwards - here, this is the true world, and the one above is the copy. An accident happened some years ago, and the true world and the fairy world, as you call them, switched positions. But, luckily, that has little significance for you, hosts. Come, follow me. Let us have tea.”

Grant stared at the man, shocked. He… did he just call us hosts? So… this guy knows what we are? What we really are, I mean?

Grant looked at his companions to see how they reacted to the man’s words, only to see them all frowning in confusion.

“Did… did anyone understand him?” Lei asked uncertainly.

“No,” Fyodor replied, looking at the man warily. “That… that is not something I have ever encountered. Never before has the translation failed. I… I am uncertain what to do.”

Grant frowned. Ki, what the hell is going on? Why can’t they understand him and I can?

He heard Ki’s sigh echo through his mind. Well, that is rather simple really. They were designed to only ever be understood by one person. Their creator. Me, in case that wasn’t obvious, hence you being able to understand them as well. Unfortunately, their appearance complicates matters more than I was expecting to have to deal with.

Why? Are they evil or something?

No, not at all. They are in fact some of the kindest people I have ever had the privilege of knowing. They were born to be guides, protectors, to watch over people in territories controlled by the Numen and help shepherd them to a safer, better path. Their abilities to remain unseen are second to none, and they even knew of the Vault before its creation, and willingly agreed to be locked up inside in order to protect the people on Earth. No, the reason they are a complication is simply because if they discover that you can understand them and that therefore I am your Source… Well, let us just say that their mannerisms will change rather drastically.

Okay, good to know. Also… I shouldn’t really let any of the others know I can understand them either, huh? I can’t imagine that ending well.

True, but not a concern, Ki said dismissively. For while I did say they were designed to only be understood by me, in practice, that caused many problems once I created the Magi and began actively trying to move against the other Numen. So I spent a few years modifying their design and was eventually able to grant them the ability to disable that side of their conversation. I suspect that they will converse with Fyodor any second now - however, you must be careful. Do you remember how, when you first arrived, you were able to listen carefully to Kyra and hear not the translation of her words, but the words themselves?

Yes? Grant answered, confused.

Good. I suggest that you begin practising that talent immediately. The most likely negative outcome during your stay with the Aziza - that is the name of their race - is that you fail to realise when they are speaking in a way that is comprehensible to your companions and when they are speaking their native tongue. You must be careful never to respond to anything they say when you are not expected to be able to understand them.

Grant mentally nodded to Ki in understanding. He immediately began focusing on the words of his party as they discussed the mysterious and unintelligible creature. It took him a few moments to pierce the passive translation ability that had been active ever since his arrival, but soon enough he was able to hear not only the translated meanings of the words, but layered underneath that, the foreign syllables that his friends were truly uttering. It was confusing to say the least, as if he was watching multiple movies at once. All the sounds began to overlap and merge together, and were it not for his magically enhanced constitution, he suspected he would be developing quite the nasty headache from the concentration required to distinguish the different words.

“Apologies,” the unknown Aziza suddenly said with a smile, interrupting the conversation, which had moved on to Fyodor deciding to attempt to cast a new translation spell in an attempt to understand their speech. “I forget sometimes that I am required to speak like this in order to be understood by travellers.”

Grant raised an eyebrow in surprise - a movement that was luckily covered by the rest of his companions also showing their shock. But unlike them, Grant was not surprised by the fact that the man could now be understood, but by the fact that the language underlying the speech was… English?

Ki, what the hell? How are they speaking actual, modern English? Haven’t they been stuck here for millenia? he asked in confusion.

They are not, Ki responded promptly. They are in fact speaking the same language that they were before, they have simply activated their own translation ability, one that is almost the opposite to yours. When you hear words from a dialect you do not understand, your magic instinctively reacts and uses a process that I frankly do not believe you will understand to translate them. I suppose the simplest way of phrasing it would be to say that your magic can sense the intent behind any words spoken by a sentient creature, as such intentions are… broadcast, almost, by the natural connection between souls that forms when two beings meet. Their magic does almost the same thing, but instead acts when the words are physically spoken, ensuring that the sound waves themselves carry a natural resonance that reacts with any conscious listener’s soul and makes the words understandable to any being. Even if you were deaf, you would understand them, as long as the vibrations carrying their words make contact with your body. So they are not truly speaking your language, but rather communicating directly with your soul.

Grant stood there for a second, digesting this. He… didn’t get it. But, something that Ki had said did send a spike of alarm through his body.

Hang on… if you’re saying that words carry an intent that can be read by anyone… isn’t that a way for us to uncover Muirenn’s identity? Surely there’s a way for me to read the intentions of anyone I talk to and discover who carries the intent of… well, killing everyone.

No, that is not exactly what I meant, Ki said, sounding as though he was trying to decide how exactly to make Grant understand how he was being an idiot. When I say that words carry intent, it is more… desire, I suppose. An intrinsic part of communication is, quite simply, to communicate. Whenever a being makes a conscious, deliberate decision to express themselves, they naturally infuse their words - or writings, or motions, even - with a yearning to make a connection, to be understood. However, if their intention is to deceive, that does not come across, as even to deceive, you must be understood first.

Grant… still didn’t get it. He said as much, and Ki just responded with ‘don’t worry and move on’. Or words to that effect, at least. Either way, Grant decided to take the advice and not try to comprehend the entire field of magical studies after only a few weeks as a student, and just left that stuff to the god in his head. Thanks to the incredible speed of telepathic conversations, Fyodor and the others had not yet responded to the fairy’s words, despite the lengthy explanation Ki had provided.

Kyra was the first to break the silence. “Well, that I understood,” she said dryly. “So, since we can actually chat, how about we start with how the hell we couldn’t understand you? Because if you’re able to communicate without us knowing what you’re talking about, that is going to make our stay here… tense, shall we say.”

Grant noticed for the first time that Kyra, Fyodor and Tamiko were all extremely on edge at the idea of being confronted with something that they were unable to understand. Only Lei seemed mostly unbothered, though she was still paying close attention. Thinking about it, Grant kind of understood why they were all so uncomfortable. It was a fairly common occurrence for people to get frustrated when someone was deliberately speaking a language that they didn’t understand, and he didn’t doubt that the uncertainty that that caused was a sizeable contributor to tensions over racial divides - though maybe he attributing too much logic and reason to anyone who complained ‘why don’t they just learn to speak English?’.

“I apologise,” the Aziza said, still smiling kindly despite Kyra’s veiled threat. “I am sure that you have encountered many creatures with unique abilities over the years, and this is simply ours. Our words cannot be understood by any unless we wish them to be. I truly did just forget to account for that when introducing myself. My name is Ayodele, and I am the leader of this tribe. Please, come have some tea, and I will answer any questions you have.”

He turned and began to walk away. Fyodor exchanged glances with Tamiko and Kyra, before nodding and beginning to follow.