Once upon a time, back when the world was new, there was a massive tree, old as time itself. This tree stood over all its fellows, its branches spreading far and wide, providing a sheltering canopy to those below. Its bark was rough, weathered, and cracked, but tough as the stone it emerged from. Its leaves were wide and heart-shaped, the better to scoop up the sunlight. It was a sturdy tree, and all who looked upon it knew that it would be there until the end of time.

Many beasts, in fact, called that tree home, reassured by its towering presence that their lives would not be uprooted. This story is about two of those beasts in particular: two beasts that perhaps were something more than beasts. They did not rely solely on habit or instinct; their existence was enhanced with something... more.

These two not-beasts were in fact fay, although the world was so new that such a label had yet to exist. They were brothers, hatching side by side under the bestial gaze of their parents. But though their form matched that of the ones who had given them life, they were nothing like their parents, and they learned it swiftly, for the owls that had brooded over them and brought them food were nothing more than beasts, acting on instinct. Friendly and affectionate, at least until the two had grown enough to fly... but beasts they were, and beasts they remained.

And so did our two fay come into the world.