Meet the Fairy | Welcome to the Kingdom of the Fairy Forest

Below is the complete adapted American English translation of the text, with the dialogue rendered in a style typical of American literature:

Somewhere in one of the most dangerous regions, deep within the vast expanses of the continent Europea—a land where only sublime atrocities and strangely endearing ugliness seemed to flourish—there lay, more precisely, an area known as a veritable cesspool. This region was called Larsano, or more exactly, the land of Larsano‑Kano. It was a vast volcanic zone where acid lakes and toxic fumes reigned supreme. Geysers of water, expelled at extremely high pressure and temperature, would vanish in an instant upon contact with the air, while miniature volcanoes surrounded these craters, ready to burst forth at any moment. Frequent ash storms descended, accompanied by sudden, deadly acid rains capable of turning any living creature into something resembling Swiss cheese. I can hardly describe the taste of it, for, much to my dismay, I have never had the chance to sample it.

There were, however, some areas boasting enormous lakes of crystal-clear "pure" water—but honestly, I must strongly advise you against venturing near them, let alone drinking from them. This is due to dangerous upwellings of CO₂ and methane that could end your life in a split second—barely enough time to register the poison in that fetid water; and if, by some miracle, that poison did not take effect, you'd then have to contend with showers of piranhas, amped up by some unknown substance that made them even more ferocious than their ancestors.

The only monsters capable of surviving in this hellish landscape—where volcanoes spewed violet lava at the very peak of their fury and scarlet flows when they wept their sorrow—were either mythical creatures plucked straight from humanity's darkest legends or mutant beasts regarded as the supreme predators of this realm. One even spoke of the Astonix lion, whose soft fur and flamboyant mane were as impenetrable and as hard as the steel cuirass of a "paingoléon," or of the Nemean lion—distinct from the fabled lion of Nemea yet described in exactly the same terms—or, astonishingly, even of chickens…

You're no doubt wondering why I would classify chickens among the apex predators—capable, in theory, of rising to the top of the food chain over every living (and dead) species on the continent Europea. And yet, believe it or not, that is the unvarnished truth. The hen is one of the few animals that managed to absorb the very essence of the primordial magic of this new world—much like humans did—thus enabling these descendants of dinosaurs to shatter an equilibrium maintained for millions of years. They developed an immaculate white plumage, with feathers as sharp as razor blades, and sported beaks as keen as the fangs of a saber-toothed tiger.

Don't expect to encounter, say, a level‑75 magical chicken that's slain a lich king in this world; for, despite such an utterly improbable evolution, it remains highly unlikely that they could master magic in the same manner as human beings—unless, of course, they were to set up schools… Even though they've honed a certain combat prowess, it would hardly be desirable for them to become rulers of the world.

But seriously, I find it hard to believe that chickens—well, really hens, since calling them "chicken" is a misnomer—could stand up to humans, especially when we've all become nothing more than "Minks" at the hands of these creatures, which turn out to be downright excellent when fried. Do you really think they have to be virgins, like those so‑called Magical Girls, to truly practice magic? I was told such nonsense years ago, and I would never have believed it.

What I've just described is only a glimpse of the myriad dangers lurking in this mysterious territory known as the land of Larsano—a name whose origin is lost, for the people who once inhabited it (and who surely knew its history) were annihilated, leaving not a trace behind. A fate, sadly, all too common in this strange world that Earth has become.

And yet, at the very heart of this wretched morass lay a luxuriant jungle, where both the vegetation and the few living creatures managed to withstand the infernal heat: exotic insects, chimera‑like plants, mythical animals… All these beings coexisted in harmony in this little paradise of primeval nature, where one could even encounter the legendary stag with antlers dappled with white light. It was said that this creature was the embodiment of the ancient grove that once protected the Fairy Forest—before the marvelous and human worlds merged—and that this very grove had founded the kingdom at the jungle's core. The jungle encircled a forest from which this famed stag, with its hypnotic eyes, emerged; a forest where spirits and phantoms wandered freely, without malice. No one knows whether among them might be lost loved ones or even former humans. These specters dwelled in what the locals in the central part of this strange land called "The Mist of Oblivion"—an immense white fog that enveloped the luxuriant forest.

This place could serve as a refuge for the dead, yet for the living it was the perfect means to lose oneself in a cursed land. Should any outsider dare to wander in, they would eventually vanish without a trace, leaving behind only a vague memory in the minds of those who remain.

Beyond the jungle and the Forest of the Mist of Oblivion lay the most prosperous city on the entire continent—a sanctuary for most of the fae creatures rejected by the surrounding, deathly cities of Larsano (at least outside the kingdom… or perhaps out of pure nostalgia for an era they never even knew). Only the most noble of souls in this world could conceive such an absurd idea—since this kingdom had refused to bow to the technology offered by this new Earth.

This place, nestled among circles of verdant greenery, bore the endearing nickname "Kingdom of the Fairy Forest, Sylvania"—simple, effective, everything one loves—and it stood as a legendary haven for those poor fae in search of tranquility and serenity, a place to lead a peaceful life. As for the poachers of legends and the hunters of chimeras, eager to profit from the "rarity" of the Fae—even though they have graced the Earth for over five thousand years—this place is a veritable gold mine for those men of meager virtue who were already around when the planet belonged solely to mortals and animals had not yet learned to speak.

This kingdom of peace and joy was inhabited exclusively by the Fae, while humans were banished in order to keep our malevolence from falling upon them. Here, one could find every creature featured in the fairy tales parents tell their children—trolls, dwarfs, ogres, elves—and, most remarkably, the famous fairies spoken of in every legend; it is only here that one could marvel at their splendid cities. They lived within enormous, magically transformed flowers adapted for habitation—the fairies being notable for their human‑like size, a trait not uncommon yet still peculiar compared with the legends.

As I have already mentioned, this kingdom was truly a little paradise for the Fae—a place where everyone was treated equally… Well, everyone? Of course not; I never claimed that this story would take place in a utopian city where our two little ones would meet! The Kingdom of the Fairy Forest was not a dystopia either; it was simply that a "small portion" of the population was discriminated against, nothing more… Nothing new under the sun!

Were I to recount every detail, our tale would span over fifteen hundred pages—and, of course, I do not have that time, nor do you. So we shall confine ourselves to one particular segment of that population, namely, one individual of that race.

"Is she an ogress?"

"No, she's much smaller than that."

"Is she a dwarf, then?"

"NO! Why choose the opposite—she'd rather be a giant, wouldn't you say? Especially since she's a being of far greater nobility!"

"A centaur, perhaps? Not that I mean any disrespect, but let's stick to a story in which both protagonists look much more like human beings, please."

With all these clues—and no doubt you're growing weary of my beating around the bush—you must have guessed, haven't you? A beauty full of innocence, of impressive stature, with an unmistakably human form—did you think of elves? Of course, who else but elves would possess such a lithe figure, those noble beings with a decidedly human appearance and an average height comparable to ours… But that's not it at all—you're completely mistaken! Read the title of the tale! That should have tipped you off, right? Yes, the person whose story I am about to recount is a fairy! I wasn't lying when I said that, though fairies are as lovely as elves, they do not surpass the beauty of sirens—and they hardly resemble orcs!

So you ask about their size; well, my friends, you'll have to wait, for the time to discuss that has not yet come. Let us instead focus on this charming and gentle fairy who gathered flowers, caressed the earth, and spoke to it—though, I must add, I'm not claiming she was entirely sane either. This fairy, who might be given a name… in truth, I don't believe she has one, for she has never had a proper name. Not that her parents didn't love her enough to deign giving her one to define her, but fairies are not born through sexual reproduction like most beings of the old worlds. They are born—as in the stories parents tell their children about how babies come into the world—with one important difference: regardless of their gender, fairies—whether girls or boys—are the result of the blossoming of a special bud on what the locals call the "Trees of Life." And since you are such attentive readers, you know that this place is a kingdom—where, by definition, there are kings and queens. Now, this kingdom being that of the fairies, its ruler must, of course, be a fairy—the race being reputed to be the least tainted by vice of all. (Source: a fairy.) You must therefore suspect that there are fairies of blue blood, that is, of royal lineage.

And you would be absolutely right.

These fairies come from the tree among trees—the greatest, tallest, most beautiful, and most radiant tree in all this glittering enchanted wood, its splendor enhanced by the pollen dispersed by the flowers blooming on its trunk and branches, lighting up the entire forest even at night (enough to do without a nightlight for the little ones). A tree visible for hundreds of kilometers around—thankfully, this remote land was truly far away from any civilization, hidden from any life form clever enough to try and seize it, and isolated from any belligerent human or fae society. Long ago, before the Age of Darkness and the merging of this new world with that of Men, this tree was known as Java‑Aleim.

And our dear little—"little" being a relative term—fairy was born from the flowers of this royal tree. These blossoms are called the "Sovereign Bud," while ordinary ones are known as the "Life Bud." Fairies born of Java‑Aleim would fall from a height of at least two hundred meters before, by unfurling their immense and sumptuous wings with dazzling colors, they managed to avoid a brutal death upon impact with the ground.

From her earliest days, she watched her peers—whether of royal blood or not—come into being and take flight, while she could only gaze up at them from the ground, as they soared in the azure sky, painting the heavens with magnificent, vibrant hues like an artist expressing the pure joy of life on his celestial canvas, making the horizon seem utterly surreal. But she, unable to join them—this fairy born of a Sovereign Bud—was an anomaly among her kind, content merely to observe the others from below, in a garden so deserted that no one dared venture there because all the other fairies were busy soaring through the skies of the kingdom.

She would follow them, running among roses and multicolored tulips, as well as sunflowers that, instead of turning toward the sun, bent toward the sunlit aura radiating from this "princess," while the wind, slipping through the branches, lifted her long, magnificent brown hair—a testament to her singular beauty.

That running gave her the illusion of flight—a notion the other fairies considered utterly foolish. They denounced her, calling her an unsightly abomination in everyone's eyes, a being that should never have been born, tarnishing the idyllic image of the Kingdom of the Fairy Forest—a picture marred by the tragic fate of her being born without wings. Thus, she was nicknamed "the wingless fairy."

Had she been born of an ordinary Life Bud, she would have been immediately put to death by the kingdom's caretakers. But being born of the royal tree and having benefited from an inestimable stroke of luck—almost a divine miracle—thanks to the generosity of the caretaker who found her lying on the ground and nursed her back to health, she was granted the right to live—especially since it would have been considered an act of high treason and regicide to kill a fairy born of a Royal Bud, whereas the death of a baby born of a Life Bud, whose only flaw was the lack of wings, wasn't even classified as infanticide.

The sun began to sweep away the rainbows created by the fairies, turning the sky a rosy hue and signaling that it would soon be time for the wingless fairy to return to her home before nightfall—and that a dire misfortune loomed on the horizon.

Once home, she found the famous caretaker who had plucked her from Death's grasp; by then she was known simply as Mother Méa ("Mama" to those close to her), a brave woman with a complexion as rosy as her daughter's, humble and ever-smiling—with her constant smile even passed on to her daughter in the form of deep dimples.

The fairy found her mother at the stove, busy chopping carrots, lettuces, and tomatoes, which she mixed together to create a surprisingly appetizing salad—only missing some cold meat and dressing to complete it.

Then, like a stealthy ninja, the young girl crept toward her "target" on tiptoe; but before she could startle it, Méa turned around, scooped her up, and lifted her off the ground.

"So, hasn't today's gardening left you tired enough to spare you any more mischief?" Méa said with a smile.

"Not in the slightest!" her daughter replied.

"Good, because otherwise, with whom would Marquis Min Uramerchie play if you were too exhausted to have any fun?" she added.

"Hey! I don't even exist!" retorted a deep, yet unmistakably feminine voice.

Méa released her embrace, and the fairy dashed off to join her friend Min, who was in the company of his best friend, Mina Mdégaine—a girl who regarded her as a sister, despite the fact that they came from two different races. Both were waiting for her to join their card game, since there was nothing particularly interesting to watch on that human gadget called the holovision—which, incidentally, was broken, and the fairy's father still hadn't provided the funds to replace it. Moreover, every time he returned, he was utterly exhausted—his pupils must have been quite a terror.

Lin was an elf hailing from a city perched atop the mountains, located in a region far removed from the Fairy Kingdom. She had been pulverized by a city of belligerent humans, fiercely opposed to the Fae. Apparently, he was the sole survivor. His father, the king of that city called Faurture, had placed him in a barrel so that he might drift along the river running through Faurture, blending in with the other detritus. He is said to have survived thanks to the hunting techniques his father taught him; he was a skilled swordsman—even though he had missed many fencing and archery lessons, preferring instead to devote himself to a sport from another era, recently revived in the city of Pleasures on the other side of the ocean, known as Lasegas—and he had even fought in some battles led by his father the king, explaining some of his injuries by having taken arrows from enemy elves.

He had given the two girls, once they had become better acquainted, two stones set with crystals that apparently contained the souls of deceased elves, which had to be submerged in water for them to survive. He had been a great friend to the fairy—indeed, even more so in days past—but now someone else had captured her heart.

Mina, on the other hand, was a dwarf from a place even more remote than Min's. She hailed from another continent! Truly! A rather rare occurrence, although humans and the Fae have managed to train dragons and other flying creatures to ride on their backs—but let's get back on track.

Mina came from a country on that continent called Kama, an immense territory once divided into several small states, now known as Jezirat Al‑Berberisian. A vast land filled with sand and all sorts of djinn—and especially flying carpets! I've always dreamed of riding one, but they're exceedingly hard to come by, and frankly, I had no desire to wander into gloomy corners to reenact an Aladdin-and-Jasmine fantasy or cross the widest of seas for a mere rug… but I digress.

Living in Jezirat Al‑Berberisian by choice is tantamount to seeking a spectacular death to end one's life, or perhaps truly understanding what one is after in this desert, much like the treasure of the Three Mummy Brothers—former pharaohs of eastern Berberisian, namely Néferkarê, Nebka, and Apophis II—great deposed kings whose ruinous reigns repeatedly led to the collapse of the kingdom of Kemi.

Jezirat Al‑Berberisian is a territory hostile to any foreigner who treads its lands; living there is as good as certain suicide—worse even than living in the Age of Darkness—a place where the Marids ruled and subjugated the most powerful and cruel individuals with their immense powers.

"So, tell me—why did Mina's mother insist on going there?" someone demanded.

This dwarf woman was incredibly strong, with a mental fortitude of steel, so to speak. Fresh air in that land was as rare as the oases scattered throughout its sandy expanse, and yet she went there—not to join an incredible treasure hunt, but simply to sell tunics! Honestly, I have long since given up on any rationality regarding the inhabitants of Earth, whether human, Fae, or even animals—let's not forget those wretched magical chickens…

She had lived there for a time before meeting Mina's father, a djinn, with whom she had Mina; but Mina did not remain there, for one of the descendants of the Glorious Pharaohs managed to defeat a Marid and seize his power, turning the lands of Berberisian into an endless battleground for the conquest of the entire territory of Jezirat Al‑Berberisian.

They sent her off to Europea when she was only seven months old, so that she could live in a safer place within her maternal family, where she grew up as a true dwarf among her fellow dwarfs—despite her tanned complexion and djinn blood. She was apparently endowed with occult powers of which she was unaware, but that hardly interested her, for she was far more drawn to firearms and all matters of authority.

When she had just turned six, her family split in two; one faction had grown tired of the nomadic life, and Mina was among them. To fulfill her dream, she needed to settle down, and the most conducive place for tranquility was that fabled kingdom whose whispers echoed through the underground realms: Sylvania.

After arduous, fruitless searches, they finally managed to locate it. Once settled, Mina's uncle Panzer was to teach her the art of blacksmithing, but Mina harbored other ambitions: she wanted to become a general. Her uncle tried in vain to dissuade her; she was destined to become a great—and if I may say so—a valiant general, with numerous exploits, medals, and all the military trimmings to boot!

Yet her plans changed when she encountered the fairy while the dwarf was strolling through the woods to craft a new version of her slingshot. At first, Mina mistook her for a human, but her complexion was far too reminiscent of that of the Fae. They approached each other timidly until, overcome by panic, Mina fired her slingshot at her. The projectile struck the fairy's head with such force that she toppled over—Mina was known for her wildly disproportionate reactions to the unexpected.

The two quarreled fiercely before eventually becoming friends—indeed, best friends—when Mina learned that her wingless companion was the potential successor to the current queen, Audisélia. Due to her handicap and the oppression she suffered every time she went into town, Mina decided to become her bodyguard, with the aim of elevating her to the next queen of Sylvania. At first the fairy did not take her seriously, but one day, while watching one of her training sessions, she saw with what dedication and rigor Mina trained to become stronger, more agile, and more efficient—and then she truly understood the weight of her words.

At sixteen, Mina rivaled the greatest knights of the kingdom; her goal was now to attain the rank of Noble Knight—or even that of the Knights of Saint Viviane—all in order to fulfill the promise she had made to the one she considered her sister during their meeting in the garden behind the castle.

Gathered around a table, they decided to play a game of President—a rare game that has survived the ages. After Min dealt the cards, he spoke:

"You know the big day is coming, miss," Min said as he placed a three on the table.

"I suppose my birthday is almost here," she replied, laying down a seven.

"Don't mock us! Your birthday is in the summer," exclaimed the tanned dwarf as she sorted her cards.

"Oh, really? I had no idea you were around on the day I was born, Mina."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously, hurry up—I'd like the game to run more smoothly," blurted the marquis.

"Two minutes!" Mina said calmly. "I'm just looking for the best play… Ah, there!"

Mina then slammed a seven of hearts onto the table; the fairy, unable to play, watched as the turn passed back to Min—who held a seven of clubs—and then to Mina, who possessed the final seven (the seven of diamonds), which she promptly discarded.

"More seriously, princess, you really ought to consider it," Min continued.

"At the Samarin festival? Yes, I'll think about giving you gifts."

"Stop acting foolishly. You know very well which day we're talking about."

A heavy silence fell; gradually, the fairy crumpled the remaining cards in her hand and neatly folded them.

"But I don't feel like talking about it!" she declared to her two friends. "Look—now that the election is approaching, you've started addressing me formally. Even my mother does—and Mina half the time!"

"Hey! I'm making an effort!"

"We noticed," Min interjected while sipping some fermented pineapple juice, "and you're really awful."

"Nameless Princess."

That was the name they had finally chosen for her; it was her given name, although she was forbidden to bear one since she wasn't truly a fairy. Yet there was a way for her to earn one—and she had known that from a very young age, from the day she first encountered the queen and discovered her existence.

"You explained to us why you wanted to become queen," Mina resumed, "and we fully intend to help you in that endeavor. So even if it scares you, remember that we are—and always will be—here for you," she concluded, smiling and embracing her.

The fairy returned the embrace and rearranged her cards to look more attractive; in the end, she was left with only three, all identical.

"Alright, come on, let's finish this now!"

She spread her cards out on the table, proud of the hand she held—a three-of-a-kind in twos. Min and Mina exchanged glances before directing their eyes toward the fairy.

"Are you sure of yourself?" asked Min, perplexed.

"Yes, why?" she replied.

"It's settled then—the hand is played! You really are an ass," Mina burst out laughing.

"What?" exclaimed the fairy.

"Well, whenever you end with a two, you're automatically an ass," Min explained with a laugh.

"Let's hope you do better on election day!" Mina teased.

The wingless fairy wore a sulky expression before breaking into laughter herself. None of them suspected that while many would soon try to put a wrench in the fairy's plans, a stranger from another world had just arrived at the Fairy Domain—and that his presence would make this battle for the royal succession very different from all those before, setting the wheels of destiny in motion.