Once a long ago in old times everywhere on earth there were magic circles, or rings in which supernatural creatures - kind and heroic, vagrant and domesticated, merry and lonely, tiny, falling asleep to rest in the cups of flowers, sang and danced night long. Their clothings were from moss or foliage - and even from agglutinate with dew spider webs. These creations were so light, that not a single leaf, not a single floweret, moved under their feet. And if it happened someone to enter into their circle, he could stand, listening wonderful music and forgetting about time, by years. Under this tune even stones and trees are dancing.
None of all dances which led somebody to see could compare on beauty and lightness with flittering of these creatures. It is talked that somewhere there is a magic island in an ocean, where they transmigrated. There nobody disturbs them, they feed on with fruits, always smile, sing songs and never get old.
Getting on a magic island, it is possible to grow into the same supernatural creatures. This possibility falls out one time per 365 days, but nobody knows the road there. On this island among the gardens always in bloom there are the same mystic circles for dances and merriment. We found a road there! Welcome on a fairy-tale island
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