For a species so concerned about whether or not they were alone in the universe, they left little to no thought about whether they were even alone on the Earth. At least not for many years, not since cream was left on porches and windowsills, and pieces of bread were kept in pockets as a precaution when walking at night, particularly under a bright moon. Now the fair folk only remained in the minds of humans as children’s tales—and even then it was a cheery, frankly insulting view, something to lull young one’s to sleep or to wonder over in the light of day. No one believed anymore, and if they did they were considered crazy. As it was, the fair folk did not much mind—they may miss the respect of the old days, but it was safer this way. Each race could go about their business without worrying about any of the messy business of being caught. Glamoring could only do so much, and tended to have a negative affect on the human mind after a while. Now though, humans did not even see the fair folk. Humans were stubborn creatures, and if they did not wish to see they wouldn’t.
The fair folk had long past settled into two courts, one to reign over the northern hemisphere, and the other the south. They were much more in tune with nature than humans, and understood there was a balance to all things. The turning of the seasons, one hemisphere balancing out the other. The turn from day to night, cycling around the sun as the moon cycles the earth. And so to keep this balance the two courts were formed. One was the Court of the Sun, located in the southern hemisphere. Those of the Court of the Sun had skin kissed by the light of the day, and hair that shone like golden hallows about their crowns, and wings the color of leaves in full autumn. They reveled in the day, frolicking in the sun and played in the sunbeams themselves. The Court of the Moon was held far away, in the northern hemisphere, located neatly on opposite sides of the Earth. The fae of the Court of the Moon were beautiful like the night itself: skin shone pale like the moon, hair the color of the darkened skies, and wings like the star jeweled evening.
Each Court was lead by a royal family, whose members traced back to the Beginning, when humans believed. The Court of the Moon was ruled by the family of the Hales, a large family amassed of the King and Queen, their siblings, their own children and their siblings children. Sisters, brother, aunts, uncles, cousins; the Court of the Moon was always busy, always filled with laughter, singing and music filling their glen under the moon’s gentle light.
The two courts were responsible for the changing of the seasons, each ushering in the new season in tandem, one in the northern hemisphere, the other in the south. This was not the fairies only power—they could cast glamors over humans, improve the bounty of a harvest, or affect the weather. They were filled with the energy of life, a dangerous tool if not properly controlled, but rarely did a fairy perform any of their acts maliciously—perhaps mischievously, but not with ill intent. A fairy who has lost their control, however, could be a very dangerous thing indeed.