Slowly, the day drew to its end in the magical dimension. From the crest of Prideful Mountain, a breathtaking panorama unfolded, encompassing the vast plain traversed by rivers of vibrant and varied hues of colors. These rivers meandered beneath the white bridges of Multicolor City before finally reaching the Ivory Mountain far in the distance. The houses with their green roofs, arranged haphazardly, resembled cone-shaped mushrooms, and their distinctive forms stood out against the winding gemstone paths that connected the city's districts and avenues. Also visible from that vantage point was the wide, majestic central square, surrounded by colossal statues of ancient heroes, which stretched out before the royal residence.
Alia's eyes swept across that landscape with delight and a touch of longing. She always felt as if she hadn't gazed upon it enough each time the safe hour was about to end.
Indeed, very soon the shadows would begin to cover the valley, and then the lights of the residences in the spring fairies' main city would stand out in the darkness. As dusk fell, the Ivory Mountain would appear as a sinister and imposing silhouette against the starry sky. Alia knew this because, daringly, she had often lingered out there lazily despite the imminent danger the night could bring to her kin.
Alia was leaning against the gnarled trunk of a flowering dwarf cherry tree, and the sweet scent of the tree's blossoms mingled with the fragrance of the tiny jasmine flowers that grew in the young fairy's hair.
Yes, the day was dying. And with it, the twenty-second year of her life. Gazing at the carpet of grass that covered the small plateau where she lay, the young fairy sighed as she thought that only old Lux had wished her a happy birthday. A blood-red sun, casting rosy hues on the clouds, was on its way to sink behind the distant mountain range. Alia watched it until her eyes were dazzled, and when she had to look away, she sighed softly. Then she relaxed her shoulders as she remembered her godmother's warning about not staying in the area during the night hours.
"I'm not telling you this in vain, Alia, during the night we spring fairies are weak, and our enemies lurk; the wish hunters are always lurking..."
However, Alia wasn't afraid, first, because she was naturally fearless. Second, nothing bad had ever happened to her. And finally, because at home, if she could even still call it that, no one else would care about her recklessness and irresponsibility. At that hour, her respectable father, Syd, the Silver Raven, would be at some event or meeting with his admirers. Always away from home, always sullen and distant. The days when Alia celebrated her birthday were the worst because, as impossible as it seemed, Syd became even more sullen and withdrawn. The situation had worsened over time, and he no longer even looked her in the eyes when he spoke to her. This was all because when she turned sixteen, she revealed her true nature as an autumn fairy, becoming an anomaly and an outcast. Alia hadn't called him father in six years. Thinking this, Alia bent her knees and pulled them to her chest, abandoning her previous relaxed position to hug her legs and rest her chin on her knees.
The faint sunlight, barely illuminating her now, caressed her pale skin, and when a cool breeze blew, making her long hair sway forward, she could see that the small jasmine flowers growing in her hair had turned gray. This was a trait possessed only by autumn fairies: their hair changed color according to their mood. In Alia's case, who had spring fairy ancestry, for an unknown reason, only the color of her flowers changed. Alia had acquired this knowledge by persistently questioning Lux, her godmother. Thanks to Lux, she also knew her history and, albeit in broad strokes, the events that had led her to be what she was: an outcast.
It had all begun when the sovereign of the autumn court visited the kingdom of the spring fairies along with a commission of nobles from his land as ambassadors of peace. The objective was a meeting to establish agreements between the two nations that would hopefully end the hostilities. As a result, and to the relief of the council of spring fairies, the agreements were successfully concluded, marking a significant moment in the history of the Four Kingdoms in the magical dimension.
Following the success of the treaty on the very last day of their stay, the delegation of foreign fairies was invited to a magnificent banquet attended by every member of the kingdom, from the nobility to the most common creatures in the Spring Realm. For this occasion, the main square of the Multicolored City was adorned with decorations, surrounded by its white bridges with golden columns. Beneath those bridges flowed the striking rivers of colorful waters, famous throughout the magical realm. Even now, many still recounted the magnificence of the festivities, the exquisite delicacies, the splendor of the ladies, and the beauty of the music and dancing. In preparation for the celebrations, the kingdom's architects had gathered and, working together, they had constructed the magnificent Fountain of Seven Colors. They accomplished this after three days of labor, diverting a portion of the multicolored rivers so that they flowed through the plaza and converged in the fountain, which was shaped like a water nymph.
The gentle Lady Alba also attended the celebrations. Now, well, for fairies, physical beauty is a given, almost commonplace, since it's a common trait among them all. However, there are always some who stand out, either for a particular talent or due to an exotic feature. Thus stood out Alba, with her sparkling eyes. The lady was married to the famous nobleman, Syd, the Silver Raven, who was the Kingdom's most renowned knight.
And so it happened that the sovereigns began a game of riddles, and when the rulers of spring were defeated, they promised King Andro from the Autumn Court, whatever he could carry from the hall, provided he used only one hand to carry it. In response, the king of autumn announced that he would claim his prize at the very end of the celebration.
After this, sometime in the early hours of the morning, the guests begged the king and queen to hear Lady Alba sing. In the entire magical realm, the spring fairy folk were renowned for the exquisite beauty of their singing; however, no one could equal the voice of the lady with eyes like sparks. So, after an unavoidable and gracious request from her queen, the lady stood in the middle of the hall and sang a song that evoked the joy, the flowers, and the vibrant colors of the Colorful City: the pride of the spring people. When Alba finished her song, a profound silence fell over the hall, as if the attendees were still trying to grasp the notes that had come to life only to vanish into the air. Finally, her audience exploded in a thunderous applause. With her cheeks flushed, Alba made a simple curtsy and descended from the platform to rejoin her proud companion. However, from that moment on, according to the rumors, King Andro's gaze never left Alba, and the sovereign of Autumn made a decision.
Many years later, some said the king had been captivated by her admirable voice, while others affirmed the king had been struck by Alba's dazzling eyes. The fact was that, when the time came to claim his reward, Andro requested Lady Alba as his prize. And, given their promise, the Spring Realm rulers could not refuse. Despite his assurance that it would only be for a year and that the lady would be treated with respect as an ambassador of her kingdom, this caused an uproar. Alba's companion, in particular, had to be restrained by the guards, while the autumn court ambassadors looked visibly uncomfortable and alarmed.
Time passed, and exactly one year later, a baby fairy girl with sparkling eyes arrived at the spring court. Her mother, Alba, had named her Alia. Most importantly, the reason they had been separated remained a mystery. Malicious rumors claimed that King Andro did not acknowledge her as his own because the baby showed no traits of an autumn fairy. Autumn fairies were characterized by their passionate nature and rapid mood swings, which were inevitably accompanied by a change in hair color: white for peace, black for sorrow, red for anger, gray for sadness, blue for joy, and so on.
And, well, that was essentially what had happened.
Now Alia sighed again as her mind wandered back to the early years of her life. Although he always avoided talking about her mother, Syd had been the most loving and devoted father. These memories made her shift restlessly, changing her position again until she was leaning against the cherry tree in a languid pose, her hands clasped behind her neck like a cushion. Having done this, she then dedicated herself to recalling the good memories she had of Syd.
As a child, he treasured her as if she were a fragile relic, raising and educating her with zeal and love. There was nothing her father refused her except to talk about her mother, and since Alia could see the pain in his eyes whenever the subject was brought up, she finally chose not to mention the matter anymore. Instead, Alia had sought information from her godmother, the old fairy Lux.
As a child, Alia had been called: The one with eyes like a thousand stars, for she had inherited the rare, luminous gaze of her mother. However, while Alba's eyes were a deep bronze, her daughter's irises seemed to shift in color, making it impossible to pinpoint a single shade to describe them. She had been a favorite at the Spring Court and even mingled with the children of the king and queen. Those had been good times, Alia thought, letting out a yawn.
Then, on the small plateau where she rested, leaning against the only tree in the area, a sudden silence fell. Alia held her breath without altering her apparent posture, for she had tensed her body and was on high alert. Something had disturbed the peace on Prideful Mountain. The mountain was called that way because it seemed as if it was fiercely facing the great Ivory Range, the vast mountain range that rose imposingly to the west.
Now Alia could no longer hear the chirping of crickets or the rustling of the small creatures that lived in the old cherry tree. The silence pressed restlessly on her. And when a distant branch snapped quietly, Alia was on her feet in an instant, her fingers already closing around the hilt of her drawn dagger.