I was born into an artistic household, where creativity seemed to flow as naturally as the river beyond our fields. My father was a musician, poet, writer, and composer; my mother, a woman whose voice carried the sweetness of song, filled our days with melody. I spent my childhood on a secluded farm in the heart of the Amazon rainforest, cradled by the vast and marvellous green expanse.
Each evening, as the light faded and the cicadas began their chorus, my three brothers and I would gather close. My father’s fingers would dance across the guitar strings, while my mother’s voice wove through the air like a silver thread. Then, with a spark of mischief or wonder in their eyes, they would spin tales—some drawn from well-loved fairy stories, others conjured in the moment from the boundless depths of their imaginations.
Through their words, we voyaged far beyond our wooden walls: to enchanted forests where moonlight glimmered on dewdrops; to kingdoms where kings and queens held court alongside fairies and orcs; to realms where battles raged one night and peace reigned the next. Those journeys shaped the landscape of my dreams, leaving me with the unshakable belief that magic is never far from reach.
The following short stories form part of a series of tales and legends originally told to my children during their childhood. Their publication seeks to preserve and share these stories, in the hope that readers may find in them the same charm and delight that they once inspired in their first listeners.
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