of the Iberian Hadas (that is, the Spanish Fays) to
seek the fabulous Spice Islands. Once found, she
hoped that they would become a foster homeland
for her subjects, and indeed, for all the Fair People
of the Middle Kingdom whose Era, she feared, was
coming to its end.
And it was.
Their brilliant Art, their shining Beauty, their
Power and their Glory were flickering and fading,
like firefly lights against the dawn; for the Time of
Man had begun.
Man, the unbelieving and unbelievable. Man,
who hates and fears himself and thus despises every
living thing. Man, the hewer of trees and spoiler of
streams; whose fields and roads and walls are of a
straight, unnatural geometry; who taught the very
beasts to be dumb; fierce, clever, heavy-treading
Man, who with his weapons of forged iron had
lately murdered, just for sport, what was believed to
be the last, and irreplaceable, Dragon.
Word of Savanelli’s success and of the Spanish
exodus ran like fox fire across the dying Middle
Somewhere in the West were golden beaches,
deep green woods, still pools, dark caves, bottom-
less rivers, topless mountains–a Fairyland!


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