The woman strode forwards. Her appearance was the same as any fit woman, neat, with the air of the Avenger about her. "I am a fairy," she said, "to be straight with you, I am their Queen. We send not pawns yet our strongest into battle, the royalty suffer more than any because we are strong. Our invisibility is our ability to blend in to any society, to take any form, because from the fairy realm we can be born into any species, any version of reality at any place in the time-continuum. We come to fix things where we can, preventing the destruction of holy creation. You've crucified our king before, I suggest you treat me with greater respect, for you will get no other coming for you after me. The King, or Queen may enter hells to make heavens and we forbid our kin to ever try. I we cannot, they cannot. So, children of Adam and Eve, what is your choice? Everywhere there is anarchy, everywhere there is argument and threat of violence... perhaps it is time for a little humility. It's up to you."
The fairy had the appearance of a miniature Wonder Woman, albeit one who knew how to dress for the season, and one who carried magic in her core.
The creatures of the magical realm had no wings and neither were they small. Thousands of years ago they were either called “faeries,” “witches” or “angels” and each carried their dangers. It was better by far to go unnoticed, keeping their “magic” under-wraps. The strategy by and large was a success, yet from time to time there came a young one who couldn't control their gifts. The exposure of one could unravel the entire community... yet in the age of cynicism there were more options. In that era if anyone reported seeing magic they would be locked up as crazy. Flora was one such young faery, skin of ebony and eyes of amber, bursting with more magic than her entire family put together. It was decided never to tell her who or what she was, to send her out among the humans. She would either save herself and the magical beings or die, but the alternative was far worse.
The fairies of that glen had a way of looking right into your soul, as if it were a book open for the reading. Then in their way they would ease you with ordinary words that had an effect greater than any drug or magic. Though their population was small no-one ever saw the same fairy twice, their appearance changing depending on what the human needed to see to be at ease. They could look like any race or gender, any size. So asking what they really look like is futile, some say even the fairies themselves don't know... that their magic has been disguising them for so long that they have long stopped caring and just choose a form.
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