The warm glow of the fireplace flickered across the nursery walls as Wendy sat curled up in her grandmother's lap, wide-eyed and eager. Grandmother in her old woman's voice, with the voice of one who had seen the world change a thousand times over, full of mysteries. She began to wove a tale, each word laced with echoes of the past.
A long time ago, when Ever Land (earth) was blessed by not one, but two moons, the night sky was guarded by celestial sentinels– divine protectors who watched over land and water.
The elder, Selene, was steady and wise, a beacon of light and serenity. She cast her silver glow across the world, guiding lost souls and soothing restless tides. Beside her, the younger moon, Noctis, burned with untamed energy, a force both wild and unyielding. Where Selene illuminated the heavens, Noctis formed an unbreakable shield, a celestial barrier encircling Ever Land, keeping it safe from unseen forces that lurked beyond the stars.
For eons, they moved in perfect harmony—until the night the sky trembled, and everything changed.
Atheris (Prime Moon God), the ancient and unseen source from which all other moons drew their power, was veiled by dark shadow. A moment when even the strongest celestial beings dimmed beneath that shadow. And in that fleeting darkness, the Dark Forces struck.
With a spell forged in the void, they shattered Noctis. The sky ruptured as the younger moon broke into countless fragments, and the protective barrier around the Ever Land collapsed. Chaos threatened to descend upon the world.
But Ocean–the keeper of secrets, guardian of lost things–rose in defiance. It swallowed Noctis's shattered remains, locking away his power in its endless depths, keeping it safe from those who wished to steal it.
"The gods were enraged by the shattering of their beloved moon and struck down those all behind this chaos, The Dark Lord Noire and his shadows, casting them beneath Ever Land's core–cursed to feed on rotten cadavers of their own kin and never rise again."
Yet even broken, Noctis was not lifeless. His magic pulsed beneath the waves, powerful and unspent, forming a hidden sanctuary where his remnants could live on. This sanctuary became known as Luminara—a realm of moonlight and enchantments, rising only when the full moon called it forth from the ocean's heart.
To protect what was left of Noctis, the fairies were chosen. Born of stardust and moonlight, they tended to Ever Land like a garden, each fluttering wing and glimmering hand weaving life into tree, beast and breeze. The skies sang with birdsong, and the land thrived beneath their gentle care. No longer mere wanderers of the universe, they became guardians of his lost magic, sworn to ensure that his light would never fade.
But peace, like light, casts shadows.
The Dark Lord Noire was not the one to surrender. Beneath the surface of Ever Land, in the hidden hollows and deepest trenches, he forged monsters from the rotten cadavers–stronger than fairies, yet vastly outnumbered. Beings older than time's memory, once vanquished by the gods and driven into the underworld. They watched the Fairies with envy, disgusted by their harmony, refusing to share a world they deemed their rightful dominion.
The gods above stirred, sensing the shadow of a new threat rising below. They feared the dark forces might rise again, and though the fairies were wise and strong, the gods doubted their ability to resist such primal evil alone. So, they shaped a new race—humans.
From land and divine breath, they created Adam and Eve, children of sun and soil. The gods adored them, and in their love, gifted them a sanctuary untouched by the time or danger: The Garden of Eden.
But... Eden had rules. Sacred ones.
The fairies, once the sole guardian of the Ever Land, were forbidden from entering the garden. The gods said it was not their place. That humans must grow and be tested on their own.
Not all fairies agreed.
To be banished from the garden–after centuries of care and creation–was a wound to their pride. Some among them, proud and bitter, believed the gods favored humans unjustly. They whispered in secret, gathering their magic into deception. And in time...they tricked Eve.
The gods, in their fury, cast Adam and Eve from Eden, but their anger did not end there. They turned their gaze to the deceitful fairies–the ones who had interfered. These fairies were banished from Ever Land itself, cast out from the land once they nurtured.
Cast out, they wandered into the dark.
And there, waiting like patient vultures, were the dark forces.
An alliance was forged–not of loyalty, but of necessity. The banished fairies and the darkness they once feared, now shared a single cause: to reclaim Ever Land, to twist its beauty into something monstrous, and to destroy the children the gods had chosen over them.
Light and shadow had made a truce once before, in the creation of day and night.
But this truce... this was treachery.
With Adam and Eve cast out of Eden, divine wrath sealed the sacred garden, the gods turned their gaze towards balance. Though humankind had faltered, they were still chosen–destined to rise, to build, to inherit Ever Land.
To preserve peace, the gods summoned the fairies and decreed:
"You shall no longer walk among humans. Not as guardians, not as kin. Retreat into the veiled realm of Luminara, and there you shall protect the remnants of Noctis's light. Let your magic no longer mingle with mortal ambition."
And so, the fairies obeyed–some with grace, others with silent resentment.
Among the fairies, not all were content to retreat to Luminara. Some, quietly defiant, nursed their resentment like a dying ember. To them, humans were intruders—fragile beings given dominion over a land barely understood.
They began their rebellion not with war but with whispers.
Mortal infants were quietly replaced with changelings (Fairy born), hidden in cradles where human babies once slept, sowing confusion and sorrow in mortal homes. Enchantments were cast into wells and winds, curses withered overnight, love turned to jealousy, and laughter soured into quarrels—all by unseen hands.
Though the gods were enamored with humans they had crafted–Adam and Eve, symbols of purity and promise–they grew blind in their affection. Entranced by humanity's swift growth, they overlooked the rumblings in human life and beneath the surface, the ancient darkness that stirred with envy.