One bright, ninety-degree summer morning, two brothers played basketball in an apartment division basketball court. Their names were Atlas and Apollo. Their similarities only stretched to appearances; their brown curls tangled together with the antics of boyhood, their dark skin becoming darker with the heat of the sun. On a day such as this, Apollo felt light as a feather, while Atlas felt that he had the world on his shoulders.
6:00 am, Lookout Mountain, Golden, Colorado.
Once upon a time, there was a man named Stewart. He was your average Joe, everyday driving out to work, packing his own paper bag sack lunch, and occasionally watching the sports when he could get them in on his dumb antenna. His apartment was nice, clean, with a couple of houseplants here and there, and a small yet convenient kitchen. If you really wanted to know what his favorite room was and you asked him, he would have answered his bedroom, because it was not only his sleeping area, but his workspace. His workspace, though, is what made it all worthwhile.
It was late when he answered the door to a pretty girl with a concerned expression.
Marissa couldn't remember what happened. One minute she was in the middle of a cheerleading pyramid, and then…
The realm of faeries had disbanded long ago, scattered by the arrival of man and their inventions. They fled to the few hidden places still standing, some traveling to what forest was left, while others took to abandoned man-made structures, hiding in crevices and rock formations. While most faeries fled, one stubbornly remained where his colony had once lived, residing in a discarded milk jug, left to float aimlessly in a stream until he converted into his home. The faery called himself Bic, and though he had chosen this life of sailing around and protecting his home, he was very lonely.