When Junction calls and selects the worlds to be her companions, she picks the ones that complement each other, the ones that form a unity together. But among all these worlds of magic and enchantment, she also notices small sparks, seeds of worlds: ideas, concepts, dreams. Worldlings. She pulls some of them into her embrace, gently harboring them for the Fairelanders to see, so the Worldlings can grow from the flow of inspiration around them, from the heartbeat of the Fairelands.
This year you can find eight worldlings in the Fairelands Junction, cradled safely in her arms. The worldlings have been created by Ameshin Yossarian, Bee Dumpling, Beryl Strifeclaw, Bonny Greenwood, ColeMarie Soleil, DatCajun, Faust Steamer and Kerryth Tarantal.
The Æther Mines by Walton F. Wainwright (Faust Steamer)
Powers of the terrestrial planes could not provide the ever expanding technology that hungers for the æther; only the infinite worlds beyond the clouds could sate its needs.
Song of Memory by Kerryth Tarantal
Once there was a being of crystal
Who delighted in creatures and growing things
Flashing wing and glowing flower
He made a garden
Once there was a woman of flesh
Her delight was sparkling gems
Shining minerals from the earth
She crafted jewels
They met in the garden and fell in love
And sang joyfully together
Wind and water, chime and flute
But her life passed as a brief season
In his long count of days
She grew old and died before his eyes
The song he composed in her memory
Took five thousand years to play
Fantasia Fairea Willow-o-the-Wisp by Ameshin Yossarian
A unified consciousness of the Fantasy Faire grounds.
Taka-Hugr, the Realm of Forgotten Stories by Beryl Strifeclaw
Legends claim that somewhere in the frozen wastes beyond the Mortal realm there is a land of a brilliant but cruel Alfr King. His realm is beautiful and terrible, a place where the light is pulled out of our world to never return. It can be reached from the mortal realm past glaciers that turn into mountains of crystals, and into a sky where it seems the light of the stars are swallowed into a void…It is said that those who venture too close to the entrance are pulled within and their stories, their lives, are slowly forgotten if they cannot escape. Because of this, some call it the Realm of Forgotten Stories, the Taka-Hugr. What you see here is merely the entrance to this realm. Within the mirror in the center you can see but a few of the forgotten stories inside. (Ambient Occlusion and midnight setting to appreciate the full effect)
Nightblooms by ColeMarie Soleil
When the blue moon shines true, the spirits of the forest commune, and the faerie flowers, in the night, bloom.
Brandybuck Shire by Bonny Greenwood
Once upon a time, there lived a mad little rabbit who danced in front of his home every day, hoping to chase the fairies away. He was so mad that they always came and ate all of his food and pillaged his home and garden… or so he thought. What he didn’t realise, is that they were actually there to protect him from the evil that wanted to come and take him far away, never to see his peaceful little shire again. Then, one sad, fateful day, he disappeared, never to return. Nobody quite knows what became of him but the fairies stay by his home, guarding it every day, missing their mad little rabbit friend. Some say he’s gone off to live in the land of Hop where he delivers chocolates and eggs to good little children on Easter mornings but some say that’s just a myth. Who knows. Did he come to visit you this Easter holiday?
WanderLust by Coffe (DatCajun)
It is a journey through the mind of my childhood self of Imagination and free roaming. I grew up with Comic books and Saturday morning cartoons. I just wanted to capture some of the feelings of day dreaming of going to a magical place that is far far away from the reality of being an adult. And just roam around it a bit.
Journey to the Mountain Vale by Bee Dumpling
Brigitte loved her books. Some might say too much. But Brigitte didn’t give a flip about what anyone else thought. They were her sanctuary. Places of magic, and mystery that would envelope her and take her away from the corporal. Her life was a never-ending procession of new places and new schools. Her parents never settled down. Every few months, they would get bored and move again. As a result, Brigitte felt disconnected. Why bother making friends when you have to say goodbye after a few months? No, it was easier to just immerse herself in her books. Her books were her true friends. Friends she could always count on and were always there for her.
On this evening, she was surrounded by unpacked boxes. The room was cold, dreary, and unfamiliar. There were strange noises coming from the dark corners of the room. Her parents had just moved yet again. Brigitte felt utterly alone. She pulled the blankets closer to her, forming a protective cocoon. The only thing she had unpacked was her beloved books. She needed them now, more than ever. She picked up one of her favorites. Journey to the Mountain Vale. “I wish I could go to the mountain vale.” She said with a sigh. Drawing the covers over her head, she turned on a small flashlight and opened the book.
The mid-summer sun is setting behind the craggy, snowcapped peaks of the Blackmoor Mountains. Long shadowed silhouettes reach across the lands, drawing the day to a close. Ceasing their foraging songs, the birds fly to the safety of their roosts. Then, as a grand finale, the sky bursts into an explosion of purples, pinks, and bright yellows. In that moment, the mountains become a canvas of color. The first stars begin to twinkle, and the soft breezes of summer are silenced.
Something moves. Barely perceptible. There it is again! Tiny winged fairies take to the air in an energetic dance. They weave in and out of the tall fragrant summer grass, and dart past the night creatures that are only just rubbing the sleep from their eyes. This is the time of the fairies. The moment between the dark and the light….
Brigitte stopped reading. What was that persistent sound? Closing the book, she pushed aside her blankets and shined the flashlight in the direction of the noise. Something moved quickly away, just avoiding the offensive beam of light. Brigitte was suddenly frightened, but also curious. She decided to investigate. “It’s probably a mouse.” She told herself. Mostly to make her feel much braver than she was. Swinging her legs off the bed, she stood up.
Suddenly, the world began to spin. There was laughter that sounded like tiny bells coming from every direction. Swirling, and spinning, tumbling, and turning over and over, Brigitte finally lost all awareness of where she was or what was happening. The world went black. Then, laughter. Like tinkling bells. The sweet smell of earth, summer grass, and bracken fern. Brigitte slowly opened her eyes…
This introduction gives a small back-story of our heroine. When she opens her eyes, the Worldling is what she sees.