With the end of the Victorian Age came the end of magic in the world, it seemed. With the death of the queen came the death of the fairies; the little people faded away into the hills, legends became myths. The British Empire was doomed to follow - empires, after all, are the stuff of legends and mythologies. But before prosaic reality swept the known world with bitter disillusionment, there lived in Ireland a little boy named Peter Clark, and away to the west on the edge of the ocean and phantasy sat the dark island of Brasil.
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