At first they were amused by humanity, these gods of the Third Path, and they decided to mostly step out of the mortal world to see what humanity might become, and so amused themselves watching humanity grow, spread across the mortal globe, and forget.

They watched as we, foolish creatures, forgot and profaned the tales of our ancestors, turning the awe of their presence into capricious creatures of limited power; things with insect wings the size of gnats; things that needed our belief to survive. We piled upon them all the disrespect of the human race, and at long last they grew tired of it.

It started with the children. They spared the children the wrath brought upon us for our sacrilege; stole them through every blasphemous image. Through picture books, books, films, television, art - all these things would shift and change into their terrible forms, seizing our children and leaving mad all who saw it happen. Since then, the vaguest scribble of the belittled form of them means madness to all who see it.

James Barrie is absent from the libraries, Disney a nuclear wasteland. There is not a day the bright shadow of one of them does not pass over us, leaving us in dread and longing. That longing, the terrible beauty, that is perhaps the most devastating thing to those of us that are left (even though a careless thought from one of them can level a city); once seen, they are never forgotten and every inch of a person holds a longing greater than their terror. The prisons, hospitals, and asylums are filled to overflowing with those who would seek them out, who sit in worship and terror; perhaps they think it is better to die in their terrible beauty than live in the madness of forever longing in a grey world. Perhaps it is.

No one can tell you what they look like, the horror and beauty is too great. To describe one we should have to finds words too terrible and alluring to be uttered or written, made of the core of burning suns singing to each other in their everlasting dance in the unlimited vastness of space, of nameless terrors in the crevasses of the never-ending void, of things with crystal wheels and wings and eyes and fire.