The Terre Fantasier #1

 As your awesome tour guide, I took you to places you have never been. For example, Terra Ciberia (Fruit Ville) and Kidtopia after the Rema Revolution. You couldn't pay for anyone else to take you to these places. Imagine going to a travel agency and having a conversation with the receptionist.

"Excuse me, are there any tickets to Terra Ciberia?" 

"What? Terra-what-now?"

"Terra Ciberia, if you please."

"Ma'am/Sir, I apologize, but there is no such place called Terra Ciberia."

You scoff and reply, "Of course there is! My friend N gave me a tour there herself! We had ice cream that never melts and a pet dragon named Fluffy!"

"Sir/Madam, I sincerely apologise, but we have no idea who N is. And if she took you to these nonexistent places, why not ask her for the tickets?"

"I would if I knew where she is! Last time I checked, she was battling Mrs Cranberry in Fruitville Court!"

"Well, we don't have tickets to wherever you want to go!"

You throw your hands up in disbelief. "What bad service! I could get better customer support from a talking cactus!"

And with a huff, you storm out, muttering about how even Bexley would have done a better job!

Yeah, that won't be pretty. And you'll get a reputation for being a bit cuckoo around town. But believe me, these places are defo realsies. If you don't believe me, there is a direct phone line to Kidtopia. Call Amanda and then tell me how you feel! Well, putting existential crises aside. I have another exciting, awesome, out-of-this-world place to take you. Drumroll please~

TERRE FANTASIER

THE LAND OF MYTH AND MAGIC!

If that doesn't sound exciting I dunno what does. This is an adventure that I'd like to share with you all. It started one day when I was riding my bicycle, my head filled with questions such as 'What is the meaning of life' when my obliviousness led me crashing straight into a very prickly bush.

To anyone who thought that landing was smooth, I recommend a mental hospital. As I got up groaning, my eyes caught something very sparkly in the shrub. Out of sheer curiosity, I squeezed through the thorny branches and my fingers closed on the tiny object. No sooner had I touched the mystery item did I find myself in a pink vortex. I felt my lunch come up to my mouth as swirled through this very uncomfortable, magical elevator. I hit a rough landing and I groaned once again. I made no effort to get up and kept my eyes as shut as humanly possible. Only when it dawned on me that I could not stay limp like a dead bear forever did I get up. I was in a forest, the perfect place for an unsuspecting thirteen-year-old to be! After ten minutes of wandering and jumping at every sound an innocent forest creature made, I was ready to curl up in a ball and declare my life as a forest-tribe person. 

That was when I came upon an argument. An argument that I did not understand a word of, 

"Listen, Mister, I can't have you wandering off after every Monarch Pixie you come across!" a little girl yelled. If you could call her that. She was about a hundred and five centimetres tall and had long pale blue hair. Her pupils were in slits, like a cat's and she had skin so pale she looked like a sheet of paper. 

The boy she was talking to was noticeably younger than her, maybe four or five. His hair was paler than hers and his face was pale except for the masses of red building up on his cheeks. His eyes were not in slits but the glare he was giving at the girl was just as venomous. "The pixie was very pretty!" he yelled, stomping his foot. "That is no excuse to run around like that," the girl yelled, flipping her hair back. I just stared at the two. It took them a few minutes to notice me. "Who are you?" the girl asked, standing before the little boy I was safe to assume was her brother, defensively.

"Oh! Me?" I asked, a little confused with the change of topic, "I'm NM Sirius, but call me N."

The girl looked at me as if I was an alien on another planet. Well, I probably did look like an alien to her, but calling somebody an alien is rude.

"Are you an alien?" asked the little boy from behind the girl, pointing an accusative finger at me.

So much for other-worldly etiquette. The girl gave her brother an eye roll, "Flumen! That's rude!"

"But Stellae! She looks at one! She doesn't even have fangs!" cried Flumen.

My eyes widened as I noticed their two sharp canines. A shiver went down my spine. Whoever these people were, they were NOT to be messed with. "I-I am not an alien," I stutter, "At least I don't think I am. My species is called humans or Homo Sapiens or whatever. We live on planet Earth."

"I have heard of humans! No, I read of humans! They said they were really ugly monsters who destroyed everything about them. And they call Gaia- Iyarth or something."

"It's pronounced 'urth'" I say, slightly offended.

"You're not an ugly monster though," pipes up Flumen, behind her sister's skirt.

"Yeah, you're not," said Stellae, easing up. I blush a little, "Well thanks. Anyway, I have a home to get to, and I have no idea how to get there. Could you help a bit?"

Stellae and Flumen look at each other with a spark of adventure in their eyes, "Ready your griffons, human metropolis-here we come!"