On the island of Britain, still tinged with remnants of mystery, there lay a misty forest in the southwest, cut off from the world by winding rivers.
In later generations, this place would be depicted as King Arthur's final resting place—Glastonbury, or what is commonly recognized in the present world as the Isle of Avalon.
At this moment, as the morning mist gradually thinned, sunlight filtered sparsely through the treetops and fell upon the shoulder of Avia, who lay on the ground as if peacefully asleep. The rays painted natural patterns upon him, dancing like living things.
Branches and leaves swayed gently in the breeze, making a soft rustling sound, like whispered lullabies. The forest air was fresh and damp, rich with the scent of earth and grass. As Avia listened to the birds chirping one after another, a subtle sense of calm settled in his heart. Unconsciously, he sank deeper into the warm embrace of the sunlight.
Of course, Avia wasn't actually asleep.
He was lying here deliberately—waiting to see if any fairies would take interest in him and try to draw him toward a doorway to the reverse side of the world.
Although most fairies had departed the surface world after the end of the Age of Gods and had retreated to the Fairy Realm, the ones that remained were mostly giants and magical beasts—creatures that hated and despised humans.
Unlike fairies, they couldn't shed their physical forms to become spirits, and thus couldn't move to the reverse side of the world. They were trapped, nervously lingering on the surface.
However, according to knowledge from the Garden of Avalon, there still existed a gate capable of moving freely between the outer and inner layers of the world. It might not last much longer, at least in theory, but it had survived until the age of King Arthur a hundred years later.
After all, the White Chalk City, Camelot, was built by a workforce half comprised of earth fairies disguised as humans, and half of humans who knew the truth but pretended not to.
And the fairies of Britain—well into the 12th century—they were still seen by the King of Wandering, Richard the Lionheart.
Even in the modern day, a few still existed. For instance, Satsuki Kurogiri from Kara no Kyōkai was abducted and transformed by fairies, which is how she came to know the "Unified Language"—a primordial tongue spoken before the division of mankind. And Heartless, the Master of Faker in The Case Files, had also been taken and tampered with by fairies.
All in all, fairies in Proper Human History weren't quite as malicious as the ones in Lostbelts. They simply liked to commit reckless acts that bordered on mischief.
Being taken by fairies was undoubtedly dangerous, but if one survived, the rewards were enormous.
Avia had already spent four days and three nights lying here, using magecraft to keep himself in this position. During that time, white horses with horns had passed by, and birds with snow-white wings had flown overhead.
But not a single fairy had appeared.
If none came soon, he would have to consider other options.
For a person carrying the Rhine Gold, it was rather disappointing—what a letdown.
Just as he thought this, a breeze stirred the air. The rustling of leaves masked the sound of movement in the underbrush. When the wind died down and the trees fell still, silence returned. The sun rose higher, and threads of golden light wove together, casting warmth upon the dew-drenched earth.
And then, in this forest teeming with ancient life, small, glowing beings radiating faint magical light began to flutter toward the resting Avia.
Finally, he thought. All that waiting wasn't in vain.
A flood of thoughts rushed into his mind, but Avia kept himself calm, maintaining his meditative state.
"A human."
"Why is there a human here?"
"There were no humans before."
"Hmm."
The fairies, each with transparent insect-like wings, murmured among themselves. From their words, it was clear that Avia was the first human they had ever encountered here.
"Did he get lost?"
"Poor human."
"Do your best."
Their voices and words were soft and kind.
But Avia remained extremely alert.
Because in the very next moment, he found he couldn't speak or move at all.
"Smells nice. Let's not play with it. Let's eat it."
"Bring it back to eat."
"Mhm."
"Let's all eat together."
"Slice the meat and eat it."
"Roast it and eat it."
"Raise it and eat it."
Avia didn't even have time to be shocked by the sudden shift in tone. From curiosity, to encouragement, to cannibalism—it was a completely illogical transition.
And in the next instant, he felt his body being lifted off the ground, dragged upward by countless unseen hands.
If someone unfamiliar had seen the scene, they might've thought it was an angelic vision of little cherubs carrying a soul to heaven.
But in reality, the fairies were just hauling their "food" home.
Soon, the floating Avia vanished into the glowing mist formed by the magical energy of the fairies' wings.
In that brief moment, his consciousness dipped into darkness. His mind went blank for an instant. When awareness returned, what surrounded and nourished his body was a kind of magical energy utterly unlike that of the real world.
Even so, Avia still couldn't react—he was only able to keep his eyes closed, passively dragged along by the fairies.
"I'm only here because I wanted to rest. That's all. Just happened to be here. Relax. Relax. Don't mind me."
Suddenly, he heard the voice of a child-like figure. He couldn't see them—his eyes still wouldn't open—but the tone suggested someone cool and detached.
"Don't disturb us. We're eating."
"You. Half-breed."
"We're about to eat."
"Eat? This is the first time I've heard you say something like that. What are you going to eat? Something interesting? Let me see."
The speaker sounded young and clearly wasn't well-liked by the fairies, but didn't seem to care and kept pressing them with questions.
"It's none of your business."
"A human. Just like half of you. A human."
"Let's eat. Let's eat."
"Delicious smell. Wonderful aroma. Tasty flavor."
"First time seeing one. First time bringing one back."
Just from their voices, Avia could already picture the fairies tearing off his clothes, slicing his flesh, and devouring him alive.
He would probably be the first human in history to be eaten by fairies.
But—one second, two seconds, now three seconds had passed—and no pain came.
Instead, after a moment of silence, the silver-haired boy heard something fall to the ground, followed by—
A voice, cracking with emotion, bursting out like a scream:
"Ah! You—You finally came to this side…! You're… You really are… So this is my father!"