Her wasp-like wings buzzing behind her, Tillianianita sailed up into the dark evening sky. Far above, the stars were faintly visible, just barely shining through the haze produced by the city lights all around her. Were she any closer to the buildings, the sky would be impossible to see through that daunting glow. Lacking a sun to see by during the night, Man had created his own.
Soaring, Tillianianita began to sing happily, her voice lifting up to the nearly invisible sky. It felt wonderful to fly again! The faerie were not meant to live on the ground. Their domain was the air, fluttering around flowers, dodging through the tree-branches as they played on the air currents. It had been far too long since she had known the joys of flight.
All around her, birds soared and climbed in the cool evening breeze, calling to themselves and to her as they ate their fill of insects. Joyfully, she replied in song, reveling in the sensation of belonging, of kinship. There was no need to worry about danger to herself--she knew they would never attempt to harm her. Only one creature in this park was to be feared, and it was on the ground far below, unaware of her presence. Even if a human had looked up and seen her in the sky, she would have been too far away to recognize as anything unusual.
From here she could observe Man without risk. Below, on the paths, humans of all shapes and sizes meandered through the park. Most of the time they walked in groups, typically in pairs, male and female. Sometimes they ran or jogged, or rode passed on strange, wheeled contraptions. Their clothes were gaily colored and frequently very attractive.
A scattered few wore outfits of blue, and carried strange rods and other tools at their belt. Tillianianita had learned that these marked them as authority figures, for when they spoke others obeyed, and when they withdrew their talismans, those nearby became submissive.
Once, she had actually considered revealing herself to one of these leaders, for who else could she hope to trust in the world of Man? But then a strange incident had altered her perceptions. For some time she had observed that some humans chose to hide among the bushes of the park rather than walk among the light. One night, she watched one of these attack a woman and attempt to drag her away. One of the blue-clad humans had rushed to her rescue. He and the attacker had each drawn their strange rods, pointing them at each other, and loud thunderclaps had issued forth. Dangerous magic this was, for both men had fallen dead on the spot, leaving the woman distraught and panicked. Tillianianita had risked her magic then, calming her with a spell, then departing before being discovered.
This had taught Tillianianita that some men wielded destructive magic, and she now carefully avoided those who carried the strange metallic talismans.
Her song ended as the breeze carried her towards the edge of the park. The sound of chirping birds and creaking trees began to be replaced by honking horns and grinding engines. She began to sink lower as the heavy, smoke-filled air drained her energy. Flying was more difficult as she reached the edge of the land, for her flight was powered by magic as well as her fluttering wings. Without both, she could not stay in the air.
At the last tree branch, just above the Central Park wall, she came to rest and gazed out at the street beyond. The view from here always awed and terrified her. Ahead, a vast carpet of asphalt led to the base of a city block dominated by several massive buildings. Along the street crawled a menagerie of monstrous golems, constructs of metal, glass and plastic in all shapes and colors. Within each sat one or more men, guiding the vehicles on their unfathomable missions.
Tillianianita had originally believed these golems to be actual creatures, tamed and harnessed by men for their own purposes. One day, however, she had seen one with its hide removed and innards clearly visible. It was clear these were constructs of Man, built by him in the same way the city had been, powered with their own strange magic.
Indeed, it was plain Man had magic. She knew this simply by looking at the things they had at their command. The rods of death and the huge transport-golems were but two examples. She had also seen humans talking to each other through tiny boxes, projecting their images onto glass, carrying the colors of the rainbow in buckets, and making music from strange, solid objects smaller than herself--these and many other things as well.
Despite all this, however, Tillianianita never felt the slightest twinge of enchantment when they used their devices. The magical essence of the world was bound to the land, transmitted and amplified by it, but Man’s power drew from some other source. She could not fathom it. She felt, however, that it was part of the mystery of Man. If she could only understand the source of this magic, perhaps she could begin to unravel Man’s secrets.
Rising from her perch, she began to fly briskly down the line of fence that marked the border of Central Park. She knew attempting to cross the street here would be too dangerous, so she moved swiftly along towards an intersection. Her study of humans had taught her that they crossed the fields of asphalt, safely amongst the metal golems, only at street corners. There, signal lights controlled their access. A red light warned the constructs to stop while humans passed. It was an ingenious and practical arrangement, but often the men on the street took too long to cross, producing honks of displeasure from the golems. For some reason, she always found that mildly amusing.
Tillianianita waited until one of the lights changed to red, then climbed high into the sky and raced across the intersection. With the golems still, she passed above them easily, alighting on a window sill on the opposite side of the street. Her tiny body already felt noticeably heavier, and she glanced back at the distant park with longing. She promised herself she would return to it soon.
Once rested, she set off down the side street, flitting from window to window. She wanted to get inside the building, where she could watch the actions of humans from hiding. The portals were sealed, however, and she knew from experience that her magic would be of no use in opening them. She could always break the glass with a spell, weak though her magic was, but did not want to attract attention to herself.
At length she reached the end of the block, still unable to find a way inside. Below her, men passed each other on the street, their voices rising in an unintelligible cacophony. Mixed in were the sounds of vehicles passing by at all speeds, and of course the air was filled with the everpresent stink of automobile exhaust.
Tillianianita realized she was becoming light-headed from the exertion and the smells of the city. She needed to climb higher, perhaps even to the roof of the nearer building, where her head could clear. Floating out, away from the walls, she sought a helpful updraft, but found none. She began to cough from the smoke and carbon monoxide in the still air, and without realizing it, drifted lower and lower towards the street.
She became aware of her peril only because a car raced by below, dangerously close by. She glanced around and saw the immense form of a truck approaching rapidly. With a cry of panic she struggled to gain altitude, and only barely succeeded.
However, as the truck raced by just inches underneath her, its draft sucked her along, spinning her frail body out of control. She screamed as she bounced once off the back of the vehicle, then began to fall, her wings beating ineffectually as the black asphalt reached up to claim her.
Then something red crossed her path. She struck it, bounced, rolled, and came to a stop. For an instant she saw her own face reflected in glass, then she blacked out.