1 volume 1 chapter "An unexpected acquaintance"
November 25, 2025 at 5:22 AM
***
The long corridors were adorned with countless tapestries depicting dragons, bursts of fire, and portraits of the former rulers of Damino. The white stone walls appeared almost black in the dim, flickering glow of magical lamps held by golden sconces. Red carpets sprawled over the dark wooden floor, deepening the eerie atmosphere of the place. Suddenly, a girl burst out from one of the many turns and hurried deeper into the stone labyrinth. Her long, flowing golden gown billowed behind her, as did the sheer shimmering shawl draped across her shoulders. For all their beauty and weightless grace, both dress and shawl tangled around her feet, slowing her down. Her long, loose hair, the color of fresh peaches, was woven with golden ribbons, and a silvery tiara rested upon her head. A large Venetian mask shaped like butterfly wings hid her face, leaving only her full lips and wide honey-colored eyes to peer out in terror. She halted at a crossroads and spun around sharply. The sense of danger pressed harder and harder against her mind, as though deliberately dragging her into a primal panic. Her breath came ragged; she pressed her lips together in determination. Fear or no fear, foolish or not, she had no choice but to succeed—her own safety meant nothing now. Tightening her grip on the bundle in her arms, the girl darted into the left corridor. Behind her, hurried footsteps erupted and a woman’s shrill voice rang out: “Catch her! Catch that girl! She’s our last obstacle to ruling the Magical Dimensions!” The voice bounced off the walls, grating on her ears. Trembling, the girl clutched her burden closer. As she turned yet another corner, the bundle stirred, and a tiny dark-skinned hand slipped out from beneath the silk cloth. The infant babbled softly, waving aimlessly, trying to grab hold of the glittering shawl. Distracted by the baby, she twisted down the wrong hall, not noticing where she was going. When she finally looked ahead, she froze—nothing stood before her but a blank wall. She backed away, preparing to flee, but the approaching clamor told her she had no time left. She would not escape alive. Her gaze fell on the child; she swallowed hard, choosing her fate. She would never survive—but her little brother might. She stepped toward the wall. With her left hand she cast a barrier behind her, sealing off the corridor in a swirl of golden mist. Then she turned back to the dead-end wall, raised her other hand, and whispered a spell. Golden clouds spun in a tight circle across the stone. Within moments, the white masonry dissolved into a glowing portal revealing a small blue planet. She lingered for a heartbeat, taking in the sight of the infant in her arms. The baby blinked up at her with wide sky-colored eyes, smiling toothlessly and flailing his little hands. A faint smile curved her lips. She offered him a slender finger, and he grasped it with a delighted giggle. A single tear slid down her cheek and fell onto the cloth. “Little blossom… forgive me for this,” she whispered. “We wanted to see your first steps, hear your first words. But fate has turned the wheel its own way…” She lifted him to her face and kissed his forehead. “Wherever you go, remember—I'm always with you. I will always protect you. I bless you…” She placed her brother into the portal and closed it in a swift shimmer of gold. It seemed she had made it… The footsteps of her pursuers echoed in a nearby hall. Barely believing her luck, she lifted the barrier and peeked out. No one. Relief barely brushed her thoughts before a searing pain tore through her body. She looked down— a black blade jutted from her abdomen. The sword slid free, and she collapsed to her knees, choking on her own blood. Her killer stepped out from behind her, heels clicking sharply on the stone. She grabbed the girl’s chin with thin fingers, forcing her head up, and hissed: “Thought you could run, little nymph? Thought you were clever?” Her voice rose as she slapped the girl across the face. “Where did you hide Him, you worthless brat?” The dying girl lifted her gaze, her brown eyes shining with pain but also with defiance. Blood smeared her smile as she shook her head. The woman kicked her in the chest and turned away. Before leaving, she smirked coldly. “You think you’ve won? We’ll reach our goal without Him. Your sacrifice was meaningless, fool.” The nymph lay on the cold floor, staring up at the ceiling with dimming eyes. A faint smile lingered on her lips. She would not survive, but she had saved her baby brother. Someday, when the time was right, they would meet again, and she would embrace him once more. Her eyes drifted closed, and she fell into darkness. The last thing she heard was the echo of heavy steps turning the corner.***
The pale sun drifted out from behind the clouds, trying to shed a little light and warmth upon the earth. Yet though it was summer, the sun shone with the same dim, fragile glow it had at the beginning of spring. Odd as it was, this had always been the way of things. The people of the town had long grown used to it, paying little mind to the strange behavior of the sun or the weather itself. At exactly eight in the morning, a sharp, icy wind swept through the streets — abrupt and unsettling even for this place. A few passersby, who hadn’t bothered to dress warmly, winced at the sudden cold. This northern wind, arriving from who knew where, carried with it a massive dark-purple cloud. It drifted slowly toward the already faint sun, intent on covering it. Many rushed under awnings or into their homes, unwilling to be caught in the coming rain. And still the cloud crept closer. When it finally smothered the sun, a sudden downpour burst forth — icy rain mixed with hail, pelting the already soaked streets. But less than an hour later, for reasons no one could name, the rain and hail stopped as abruptly as they had begun. The cloud slid away toward the south. The moment it freed the sun, the light blazed forth as if for the very first time. Warm and brilliant, it flooded the streets and chased away the remnants of the storm. People peeked outside in astonishment and joy. For the first time in thirty years, the sun shone with true radiance. Perhaps… a sign of better days to come? Deep in the park, an unnaturally bright shaft of sunlight pierced the canopy and illuminated a small clearing. Within seconds, a young man stepped out of the glowing beam and looked around. In his left hand he held a long staff crowned with a bright orange stone set within a frame of metallic rays, shaped like a miniature sun. The staff caught the sunlight, scattering playful reflections across his face. His features were striking — a slim, graceful face, a sharp upturned nose, thin lips. His vivid golden eyes, rimmed with dark lashes, darted from side to side as he studied his surroundings. His light brows tightened slightly. His long pale hair, thrown back over his shoulders, fluttered in the lingering breeze. The blond youth allowed himself a faint smirk and closed his eyes. His hair shimmered at the ends, lifting gently as though rising with invisible heat. Gripping the staff with both hands, he struck it against the ground. From the point of impact, barely visible white threads rippled across the entire park before fading into nothing, merging with the world around them. He opened his eyes wide and listened closely. Another quiet smirk tugged at his lips. “How curious… How did I end up on Earth if it left the Rings long ago? All portals have ceased functioning and the paths are sealed…” He exhaled, brushing a loose strand behind his pointed ear. “By what means was I brought here? And who would dare interfere with my passage?” “Ahem… Let’s assume that would be me…” From the half-shadow behind a nearby bush, a pair of eyes gleamed, accompanied by a rasping voice. The young man grimaced and lifted his staff defensively, shifting into a ready stance. The unseen speaker cleared his throat and continued, “Your Highness, perhaps we could handle this peacefully? You hand over your little ring, and I let you walk away…” “Not a chance. Why should I give you my staff?” the blond hissed through his teeth, glaring into the foliage. “And what could you possibly want with it?” “That is something you, dear prince, are better off not knowing…” The voice chuckled. “So? Shall we settle this the easy way?” “Certainly… with a little help from the paladins of Lightstone.” The prince’s smile sharpened. He spun the staff above his head and then slammed it down, shouting: “Solaria!” Light flared around him, and something in the bushes growled with frustration. The last thing the hidden creature wanted was a direct fight with the prince — but without the staff, his fate was sealed. The prince burst from the cocoon of radiance on wings of shimmering blue and aimed his staff at the bushes. A violent rustling broke out, and streams of crimson golem creatures lunged into the clearing, jaws gaping. The battle for the artifact had begun.***
Sunlight streamed through the open window shutters, illuminating the room. The small, bright space, with turquoise wallpaper patterned with leaves and dark wooden floors, was heavily filled with furniture: a massive single bed against the wall with drawers underneath, five wooden bookshelves crammed with books of all genres, two desks—one for drawing, the other for work—a wardrobe with an integrated mirror. On the enormous fluffy rug, in a seemingly random yet secret order known only to its owner, lay sketchbooks, books, and a pair of new sneakers in a box. By the bed stood a large gray cage with iron bars, where something was sleeping. The walls were adorned with hand-drawn pictures, a few posters, and a garland of photographs above the bed. Under a mountain of blankets on the bed, someone slept. The only visible part of the sleeper’s body was a tanned hand, which twitched sharply before retreating under the covers from the warming sunlight. Footsteps creaked softly on the stairs, and within seconds a man entered the room. Tall, with tanned skin and a gentle, well-shaped face, dark chestnut hair tied in a low bun that had long since loosened, dark brown eyes twinkling as he looked at the “cocoon,” and thin lips curved in a tender smile. Subtle lines had formed under his eyes but did not mar his handsome face. Wiping his wet hands on an apron, he carefully closed the door and approached the “cocoon,” gently shaking it and speaking in a soft voice: — Carino, get up, you’ve been asleep all day… — Well, papà… just five more minutes… — a muffled voice groaned from beneath the heap of blankets. — Fiammella… You’ve missed our flight… — What?! — The bundle of blankets was swiftly tossed aside as someone leapt from the bed, racing toward the bathroom, shouting, — Why didn’t you wake me earlier?! Why was the alarm silent?! What was mamma thinking, huh?! Ten minutes later, a whirlwind of red hair burst into the bedroom. Snatching his glasses from the bedside table, he put them on and, glancing at the calendar, frowned at his innocently smiling father. — The alarm didn’t ring because I’m still on vacation… And we only fly in October… — he furrowed his brows, — Why did you lie to me, Papà? — Sorry, Fiammella, but sleeping until noon is no good. — The man exhaled softly, picking up a book from the bed and frowning: — You were reading again until dawn? And of course—fairy tales… Those silly stories? Carino, you’ve outgrown them… I think it’s time to forget about them… Snatching the book, whispering, “This doesn’t concern you…,” the boy placed it on the shelf and approached the cage, unlocking it. A bluish, fluffy lump tumbled onto the floor. Soon, long ears and a pink little nose emerged. The boy scooped up the rabbit, cooing to it, ignoring his father. — So, you want to talk to KiKo, but not me? Bloom, stop sulking, please… You know I didn’t mean anything… — Really? You’re always like this… — He turned his head, frowning, — Papà, why can’t I read and enjoy what I like? I’m not going mad or jumping out the window thinking I’m a fairy! I just like literature in this genre, that’s all! Instead of replying, the man smiled, stepped behind his son, and hugged him from behind. Bloom buried his head against his father’s shoulder as the man whispered words of apology, barely audible. After a few moments, the father let go. — Come downstairs, mamma wants to talk to you. — He turned and left the room. The teenager lingered for a couple of minutes, stroking the rabbit. With a sigh, Bloom placed his beloved pet on the bed and approached the wardrobe. He stood in the far corner, where the bright sunlight didn’t reach, so when he glanced in the mirror, his reflection was in shadow. From the darkness, two bright blue eyes stared back at him, framed by short light lashes. A long, eagle-like nose and full lips, under which slightly crooked teeth peeked from braces. Sparse dark freckles were scattered over tanned skin. A red hoodie and blue jeans. Bright, curly orange hair in a short cut. Bloom had never considered himself special. An ordinary family, ordinary school, ordinary appearance, an overall unremarkable life. The only thing breaking the monotony of his days was books. And always fairy tales. Tales of fairies. He loved them and often, lost in reading, imagined what it would be like if fairies were real. But the real world is no fairy tale; there are no fairies, no magic. Dreams always remain dreams. With another heavy sigh, the red-haired boy grabbed his bag from the wardrobe handle, took a book from the shelf, tucked the rabbit into his hood, and ran downstairs. At that very moment, a brilliant light suddenly shone from the park, illuminating the treetops…***
The kitchen was fairly spacious, even though a large portion of it was taken up by flowers. At the sand-colored table, covered with a turquoise tablecloth, sat a woman. She appeared to be around forty, with straw-colored hair in a short cut, and sharp, night-sky eyes staring ahead. Her square, lean face, slightly prominent ears, and thin lips gave her a stern expression. She wore a light blue blouse and blue jeans, sipping coffee while reading the newspaper. Suddenly, a clatter came from the stairs, accompanied by the faint squeals and protests of the rabbit, as a boy entered the kitchen. Settling into the chair next to his mother, he smiled a cheerful “good morning” and lowered his head, absorbed in the book he had brought from his room. The woman tore her gaze from the newspaper, and looking at her son with a gentle smile tinged with mock reproach, said: — Good morning, son. Since when do we treat our elders so disrespectfully, Bloomie? Close that book and come stand before your mother… The boy’s eyes widened, but he obeyed. Standing before her, he braced for anything, but not for his mother to rise and embrace him, saying: — Happy birthday, Spark! — Already the twenty-sixth? — he asked, glancing at the calendar. One could only pity his inattentiveness. — I didn’t even notice… — You’re so observant, aren’t you! — said his father with ironic amusement as he came into the kitchen. — I hope you didn’t forget how old you are? — No, of course not! Today I turn sixteen! — The red-haired boy freed himself from his mother’s hug and waved his arms dramatically. — And why do you treat me come con un piccolo? I’m a fully-formed person! And stop saying I’m always your child! Why won’t you ever let me go anywhere on my own?! — And school? — Michelle asked with a giggle, then continued with mock seriousness: — The store? The park? Your father’s flower shop? The pet shop? The bookstore? What do you mean you don’t let him go anywhere—look at all these places! — I mean independent trips, to other cities or countries, not around town, — Bloom replied, pouting, — Mitsi, for example, recently returned from England all by herself, and what about me? — That’s enough. — Violet interjected, stepping between wife and son. — Fiammella, don’t you want to hear about your gift? — What is it? — the boy asked, eyes bright, as his mother smirked mischievously and said: — It’s something that will help you get around the city faster. It’s outside. Bloom’s eyes lit up at the news. He bolted out of the house, running across the yard, his mind racing with one thought: A scooter! Could it be that my parents really bought me a scooter? I’ve wanted this even more than the new Rain Fairy books! He stepped outside, a smile frozen on his lips. Slowly, it began to fade as he took in the scene. The street, like the houses themselves, was beautiful and uniform. Only the people living there varied. On the path in front of one house stood a red bicycle—sturdy, well-painted, with a small flower basket attached to the handlebars. His parents came out behind him, smiling as they asked whether their child liked the gift. Bloom simply nodded, scooped up KiKo, placed him in the basket, and pedaled off, waving as he went. — I think we disappointed him… — said the brunette, twisting her bun. — How so? — the blonde asked in surprise. — I think he liked it. — He thinks we treat him like a child. He probably wanted something bigger than a bicycle… — And what would that be?! — A scooter, like all modern kids, amata… — Kids these days, and their demands! — the woman snorted, then whispered: — Let’s see what next year brings…***
Gardenia was a very calm and sweet little town, home to no more than twenty thousand people. Its residents were friendly and knew one another by sight. This often meant that if you weren’t particularly popular at school, you had only a few friends, especially around your own age. And so it was with Bloom. He didn’t really stand out from the crowd—he was quite sociable and, like everyone else to some extent, dreamed of popularity. But for someone who wanted to be popular, he was far too modest and naive. His dreams of popularity and a multitude of friends remained just that—dreams. For some strange reason, when he least wanted to meet anyone, trouble found him while he was riding his bike to the park. A long-legged Asian girl with blue-dyed hair, wearing a short green striped top and leggings, was shouting loudly at the movers dragging a massive crate from a truck. Stomping her foot and muttering under her breath, Mitsi Gwon turned her head, spotted a familiar figure, and flashed a sweet smile: — Bloomie! Good morning! I’m so glad I ran into you! Come, I’ll show you what I got for my birthday! — she shouted, adjusting her trendy glasses as she approached him. Out of courtesy, Bloom had to step off his bike, revealing that he was a good head shorter than Mitsi. — You won’t believe it, but I didn’t even ask for a gift! My parents just love me so much that they know all my secret wishes and dreams! And to celebrate, they let me have a party at our house! I even invited the whole school! Isn’t that amazing?! — Happy birthday, — Bloom said quietly, smiling warmly at her, though he hadn’t received an invitation. — I hope the party goes splendidly, like all the others. So, what did they get you, Mitsi? — A scooter!!! — Mitsi exclaimed, pointing with her purple-painted nail at the movers dragging the wooden crate. — The latest model, with a helmet and gear, all in my favorite color! A real gift from real parents! You know how it usually goes, right? You want a scooter, and they give you a bicycle… Ha-ha-ha! — Ha-ha, that does happen. Congratulations, that’s an amazing gift, — said Bloom, adjusting his glasses. — I won’t keep you. Have a great party. — Bye-bye, Bloomie! — Mitsi called sweetly, waving as she returned to the movers.***
The warm wind brushed his face, not bothering his eyes thanks to his glasses. The pedals spun wildly, sparks almost flying as buildings, streets, and people blurred past in a swirl of colors, like an inexperienced artist’s smeared canvas. Bloom was furious, nearly growling with frustration. His mind whirled with thoughts: How can someone flaunt their gifts so openly? And even claim she didn’t ask for it?! E poi chi ha strisciato in grembo per i suoi genitori per tutto l’anno scolastico implorandoli per un ciclomotore?! And what does it mean that she invited the whole school?! And forgot about me?! We’ve lived nearby and gone to the same class since we were six! I’ll have to celebrate my birthday alone again because not going would insult her! Mitsi che Bastardo egoista sei, sai che siamo nati lo stesso giorno! The furious pace made his rabbit cling tightly with its paws to the edge of the basket. This speed continued until they reached the park. Parking his bike by an old oak tree, Bloom sat on the grass to catch his breath. He took out his notebook and pen, gnawing on an apple he had brought from the kitchen, waiting for inspiration. KiKo, meanwhile, jumped out of the basket, glanced at his owner, and hopped toward the park area where benches stood among tall grass. Lowering his nose and grasping a blade of grass between his teeth, the rabbit lifted his head—and froze. The entire park zone was wrecked: tables broken, charred, and grass ablaze in places. On the debris of one table stood a tall silhouette with wings and a staff in hand. Wait… what?! KiKo’s eyes widened, the grass dropped from his teeth, and he darted back to Bloom, who was still seated on the grass, awaiting his muse. The blue rabbit (though many said gray) grabbed the boy’s wide pant leg and tugged him toward the park exit. Bloom was astonished at his pet’s swiftness, scooped KiKo into his arms, and tried to calm him while glancing at the park. He exhaled quietly and asked: — What’s got you so scared? Cani, did you see them? — chuckled Bloom, scratching the rabbit’s head as he rose to his feet. — Let’s go see these scary Cani. Maybe you’ll make friends. Grabbing his half-eaten apple, Bloom approached the park zone, trying to soothe his squealing, nibbling rabbit. He crouched near the grass and bushes, staring at the clearing. At first, nothing seemed extraordinary—just the ruined park. The injustice made him want to cry out loud. But then, a dazzling flash streaked across his vision, revealing a battlefield. Bloom’s face paled, his jaw dropped. Before him stood a tall boy with long golden hair tied in a high ponytail, wearing an iridescent orange outfit adorned with intricate patterns. In his hands was a silver staff topped with a circular frame holding a gem, rays of metal radiating like the sun. But the most astonishing feature was the pair of beautifully-shaped wings sprouting from his back. A Fata! — Bloom marveled, unable to focus on anything but the silhouette — A real Fata! I knew they existed! — You really think I’m scared of these creatures?! Ha, wrong target, Ogre! — rang a melodious voice. The fairy was fending off strange creatures, kicking one away before continuing: — You’re way too full of yourself, you know! — Not more than you, fairy… — came a low, gravelly male voice. — I suggest an exchange again. Your staff, in return for stopping the fight… — Are you out of your mind? Give up a family relic for a fight to stop? Never! — the boy smirked sharply. — I’d rather die than agree to that. — You chose your fate, boy… — rasped the voice from dark bushes. A moment later, it roared: — Attack!!! Bloom covered his ears, watching with a mixture of fear and fascination. From the bushes, the strange red, impish creatures advanced in waves, limbs broken, tiny white teeth bared, yellow eyes glowing maliciously. Their joints creaked with movement, giving them a horrifying appearance. Bloom covered his mouth. If he weren’t seated, he would have screamed. He’d seen cartoons and movies of fairies battling—thrilling stuff. But this was real. He didn’t want the fairy to die. Or himself. KiKo rubbed against his hand, trying to calm him. The rabbit wouldn’t run away—he had drawn his melancholic owner into this battle. The creatures approached at furious speed, but as they got within two meters, the fairy blasted them with pulses of light or struck them with limbs and her relic. Gradually recovering from the initial shock, Bloom even began to watch, curious about which attack the blonde would use next. The one who sent the creatures clearly didn’t like the fairy’s superiority. A furious roar sounded, and from the bushes, a three-meter-long, dirty yellow, bald monster in a maroon jumpsuit appeared, four clawed fingers on each hand. — Finally! — the fairy snorted, kicking another imp aside. — I thought you’d chicken out and run! Call off “these” and fight properly! — You think it’s that simple? — the monster growled, closing in. — I won’t give in, no mercy for you… It leapt. The blast knocked the blonde off his feet. The little imps grabbed his limbs, immobilizing him. His hair gagged him, the staff flew into the bushes. — This is what overconfidence gets you, fairy. — the monster laughed, eyeing the staff. — You could’ve handed it over and walked away. Now, you die a disgraceful death. Terrible ending, huh? The monster looked around—the staff was gone. How could he have lost it? If its owners found out… the yellow-skinned brute hissed and went toward the bushes, maybe it had landed there. Bloom turned pale, gripping a stick he found nearby. He crawled back into the bushes to help the fairy. The creature wasn’t friendly, and the threats didn’t make it charming. While the monster laughed, Bloom tossed the staff behind the bushes and retrieved it, returning to his hiding spot. He waited, unsure if the ogre would eat him first. KiKo darted past him. Bloom silently prayed for his pet. The rabbit had gone but returned. Bloom tried to push him back, wanting at least him to survive while the ogre approached. The blue-furred rabbit leapt onto its hind legs, huffing aggressively. The ogre rolled its eyes, stood, and pointed at KiKo, muttering in an incomprehensible language. Bloom had no idea. Tiny imps tried to attack KiKo, but the monster turned to the fairy. Bloom shivered. He watched as his pet was threatened. A squeal rang out. The yellow-skinned brute rolled its eyes. The imps dissolved into grey smoke, and standing above them was Bloom with a stick in one hand and the rabbit in the other. The blonde fairy noticed him and let out a joyful hum. The ogre turned green with rage—his mission thwarted by a mere human with a rabbit! Absurd. Roaring, he lunged at Bloom, grabbing his legs, intending to crush and eat him. Bloom’s mind raced—why here? Why now? Why him? Rage, fear, indignation. He would not die. The creature would not win. Bloom kicked the ogre in the face, fell, grabbed his stick, struck the monster’s jaw, then slammed him on the head and foot. Six years of self-defense paid off. The ogre sat pale with fear. One fairy alone was tough enough. Two, with Bloom newly empowered? Luck would be needed to survive. Grass burned under Bloom’s feet, unnoticed. He approached the immobilized fairy and struck the first imp. Some tried to fight back; one even tore his pants. He ignored them. Within minutes, the fairy was freed. Bloom extended a hand; the blonde rose, smiling. A young man, with tanned skin, light-brown almost golden eyes, straight nose, neat lips, golden eyebrows. Bloom raised an eyebrow, confused. — I don’t understand, — Bloom admitted, biting his nail. — Can you show me with gestures? — Why? — the blonde asked in perfect English. — I asked about my staff. Where is it? — In the bushes, I tossed it there… — Perfect, thanks! The fairy beamed, spun, and a silver bracelet transformed into a long silver sword with moon-shaped patterns. The ogre growled and vanished in black smoke. The imps dissipated into gray haze. The blonde tossed the sword, which reverted into a bracelet, smiling contagiously: — My name is Saran Moon. — he offered his hand. — And yours, Earthling? — B… Bloom J… Jackson, — stammered the boy, blushing but returning the handshake. — Nice to meet you… — Likewise, — smiled Saran, shaking hands. — Thank you for the help, I… Before he could finish, a glow surrounded him and he fell onto Bloom. When he landed, he looked entirely different. Golden hair loose, front strands clipped with a red moon, sunglasses, white shirt, blue jeans. The wings were gone. A beautiful, ordinary boy. Bloom would not have believed it if he hadn’t just seen the wings. Sighing, Bloom hauled the new acquaintance to the bike under the oak. They’d figure out the rest at home with his parents.***
