Before I begin this tale, I must first tell you a bit about fairies.
Once, many hundreds of years ago, there were lots of fairies. Now fairies never die unless another fairy kills them, usually one from a different tribe.
There were many fairy tribes in the past; the Sidhe, the Fae, the Pixie, the Dryad… these are just some of the hundreds of fairy tribes that used to exist. Naming all the tribes would take far too long.
When the world was young, the tribes lived in peace and left each other alone, though a meeting between the elders of each tribe occurred every ten years. One day at the meeting of the tribal elders a disagreement was begun. The disagreement, which occurred over some ridiculous, long forgotten matter, was between the leaders of the Fae tribe and the Sidhe tribe. They didn't get along particularly well to begin with.
Well, this disagreement between just two fairies became quickly blown out of proportion and it wasn't many weeks before all the fairy tribes were at war. Fairies were being killed left, right and centre. The war lasted four hundred years.
Eventually just three fairies were left; the Sidhe leader and his second-in-command and the youngest of the Fae. Despite her relative youth the young Fae was powerful and when it came down to a kill or be killed situation she didn't hold back. Mere moments after the last three fairies on Earth met, a single Fae stood victorious and very much alone. She spent the next nine hundred years observing the human race refusing to interfere until one night in nineteen eighty one…