So magic exists. You didn’t believe in it for years and years until suddenly you’re twenty four years old and little flying creatures that are too small to be birds but too human like to be insects or truly anything other than fairies are buzzing around you, a fairy-circle nearby. 125Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGX6B31mG7g
You could easily believe this, you told yourself, still half-convinced you were dreaming until you plop onto the damp ground and nope, damp grass is never this cold in your dreams. So you’re awake and alive and magic exists. Is it just fairies? You’re unsure. You’re unsure of reality right now, with the ground making your butt wet, sun setting behind you.
Only when you startle awake again, your eyes were once again tracking the flying fairies. Or were they fireflies? The darkness around you meant both glowed, and you shook off the weariness. You just needed to walk home. So you started the trek home. The fireflies continued their dances for sex and prey, but the fairies followed you. You ignored them, even as they whispered seductive words into your ears. “Come home with us instead, you’ll never work again…”
“Your parents wouldn’t notice if we sent a changeling in your place, we both know that.” You ignored them, mentally singing a song in your head to make their words fade away. The fairies didn’t follow you into your parents’ house. You wondered if they were like vampires, only able to enter if invited. Part of you hoped so, that maybe if life ever became too difficult you could take them up on their offer.
So magic exists, after a rainstorm, if you can find a fairy circle. You feel like if you actively went out looking for them, you would never find them again, but when your five year old neighbor asks about local wildlife, you tell the tale of fairies alongside the underground beehive you once stepped on.
You warned her that you would absolutely notice if she went with them, but perhaps it would result in a grand adventure! You knew you were far too old to be a fantasy protagonist in a fairy story, but not too old to be the mentor that saves her last minute. Maybe. You hoped. You knew fairies would be far more persuasive to a child than to a skeptical twenty-something.
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