Who Runs Adobe Firefly?

The Origin Story No One Expected

Nobody wanted to get rich in Faeria. They were the embodiment of wealth by definition. Their hair was made of gold, and their garments were woven from diamond light. They had no use for the dollar’s emerald.

Lampyrida did not agree.

She had once traveled to Earth and met the immigrants who dreamt of manifesting what was known there as the Grand American Dream.

Faeries did not dream, but Lampyrida longed to have a dream fulfilled, something to keep in the little chest where she stored her rarities. She already had a stone from Mars, a bracelet from Atlantis, and boots that made you look like a human. She’d bought them from a traveling circus for merely two pots of gold. A bargain, even if they were fakes. She didn’t know that and wouldn’t have cared.

Lampyrida slipped on the boots, stuffed them with silver wool (they were twice the size of her pink feet), and hid her wings beneath a Harvard sweater she’d found at a thrift market. Then, she paid the oracle for teleportation services straight to the middle of New York.

Convinced she’d make it on her own, she declined the mystic travel agency’s offer of lodgings in the city.

So many rats! They stared at her and followed her, sensing the magic in her being. She fled toward the Pond because rats hated water.

But she didn’t get a second of peace.