Once upon a time -- for this is how all such stories begin -- there were two fairy princesses. Sisters born in the same moment. The first, possessing dark hair, pale skin and eyes like sapphires, was blessed with the gifts of learning and healing. The seconding, possessing light hair, golden skin and eyes like emeralds, was blessed with the gift of speech, able to speak to all things, particularly animals. And both, as all fairies are, were blessed with the gifts of curiosity and adventure.
It was these latter gifts that lead them, as many fairies do, to walk among the villages of man. To learn of their ways, to spread their own in form of stories and song. And it was on one such journey that the two sisters came to a village where they spied upon two boys of great beauty and similar age as the girls would be if they were mortal and matched the countenance they took up when they journeyed among man.
Upon inquiry they were told the tale of the youths, born in that same village in the same month to houses standing side by side. And side by side they had lived all their lives, as much and even perhaps more like brothers than two boys born to one home and blood. The older, by only days, was dark haired and fair skinned and said to be more curious with a mind for learning all things and a skill for healing. The younger was light haired and golden skinned and it was told could speak to all animals, calming even the wildest with a mere look. And both had a skill for seeking adventuring and finding mischief.
It was as if some magic had copied the sisters point by point save their sex and created for them each a perfect match. So strongly they felt this that they ran to their father the Fairy King and begged him to allow them to seek out the boys and wed them. But such a union was not permitted by ancient laws and treaties between man and fairy and so the King told his daughters that the only way to have their wish was to become mortal, a gift he would grant if they were certain they wished it. For the mortal world was one of both happiness and sadness and once mortal they would age and die as all mortals do and be lost to Fairy forever. But the sisters were certain of their love and most curious to understand what it truly meant to be mortal and so their father, always wanting most of all for his daughters to be happy, granted their wish. Making them mortal but in all other things the same as they had been.
In the time since their return to Fairy, they found that a pestilence had driven the boys away to a far away land. Unafraid of an adventure the girls set forth to follow. Their father sent with them a band of Fairy men, also curious about this far away land of men. The King bid the men see to it that his daughters safely found their loves and then were left to their own means to live as the mortal world saw fit to drive them, never speaking of the nature to which they were born. Such was the treaty and the laws and the men vowed to see the task done.
And one summer day the band journeyed to a town in the land of men and leaving the girls to walk among the crowds they were spied upon by the two boys, who felt as though they had found their own twins and were instantly in love. And as in all things the brothers did, they built houses side by side and were married side by side and pledged never to be apart or else their hearts would break.
And so it was for many summers. The dark ones, wise and learned, became healers. The light ones, tamers and trainers of horses and beasts and burdens. Their nights were filled with song and dance and laughter. And those who saw them would speak often of their gifts, their love and their music and swear they must be blessed indeed.
But in the land of mortals there are dangers and death and even these former fairies and their always mortal lovers would feel the ache of loss. It came first to the Dark Sister, who, having been blessed with a daughter of near four summers, would be lost in the course of childbirth, taking her expected son with her. Her sister, true to her word, would become a second mother to the child. Her husband a second father alongside the girl's true father who grieved that his skills could not save his true love. But the music of his daughter's voice and the merriment of her dance soon reminded him of the joys of life and he cast aside his grief and continued living as he had before, telling his daughter nightly of her mother, lest she be forgotten in the young girl's mind and heart.
As time moved on, they celebrated the joy of life when the still living sister gave birth to a beautiful little boy. The young daughter pledged her sisterhood to the baby who replied with merely a coo and a smile. But as they grew, he was as good a brother as any boy of same boy and she a sister. They were never more than a stone's throw apart, slipping from house to house to fall asleep under the same blankets, hands clasped tightly. And as they grew it was clear to all they possessed their mothers' gifts. The girl a healer, the boy a charmer of animals. And both held an unfailing sense of adventure as they ran the hills around their home, running barefoot in muddy creek beds, catching wild things and singing songs of the old ones. And anyone that saw them would both shake their heads and laugh for the two somewhat siblings had the gift of merriment as all children both fairy and mortal do.
But cruelty visited them again. A vicious plague came to their village, striking down the little boy among many children of the village. His sister, separated for fear of the plague, would sit outside the house of the sick and sing into the window, songs of dancing and play and wishing her brother not to leave her. And he did not, he lived but his his shining crown of beautiful hair, golden red and full of curls that were the envy of all the local girls, shriveled and fell away. Leaving him with a most odd appearance. But his sister did not care, only happy he lived to run and dance. But his illness left him weak and sad and the sister, though it broke her heart, urged her father to send the boy and his parents away to the kingdom of open fields and bright skies far from their crowded home. It broke his heart to speak of separating from his brother and sister but he knew the wisdom of his daughter and did as she told. The little boy, vowing always to love his sister, left with her a ring to remember him. And she vowed one day to come to him and they would live as they always had, side by side, running barefoot in creeks and catching wild things and when they were old enough to marry they would raise their children together and teach them the songs and stories of the old ones. And she did not shed a tear until her brother was out of sight.
It was barely two seasons later when the girl and her father, broken hearted for their separation, made their way to find their lost ones. But a happy reunion was not to be had. When they reached the land they sought, they found that a band of villains had attacked and slain both brother and sister, and the strange looking little boy was missing. The girl and father vowed to make no land their home until they were reunited with the lost boy. And so they journeyed.
The Fairy King, grandfather to the young ones, spied these griefs. He had wished to stop them and spare his daughters such misery but he could not interfere as such was the vow between fairy and men made legions of time before. Instead he sought out the band of his fairy courtiers who, holding the curiosity of all fairies, had stayed u the distance lands to live among the mortals in disguise of their form. He bid them to watch over his son in law and granddaughter as they had all lost ones in need of help in finding their homes. And if they spied the boy, to guide him to a reunion with his loved ones as they had once down for the princesses and their mortal loves. And so they pledged to do the King's bidding for even they had heard the tales of the wee little ones and their family and were touched by a story such as theirs.
And so the Fairy Band made to put themselves into the path of the pair's journey to help them in their quest. The end of which is yet to be written . . . .