In olden times they walked the lands, and swam the seas, and graced our skies, and lent such beauty to the world that all things human paled next to their eldritch wonder. For they were things of magic, not iron or flesh and bone, but rather beings of gossamer light, of songs sung on golden hillsides and of tales murmured in the dark. For each and every thing upon the earth there was a bit of magic at its roots, some Mystery to explain from whence it came, how it came to be among the lands of men, and the world was a wonderous place for all of it.

They held our hearts.

And then it all began to change.One by one, in ways too countless to imagine, reason replaced magic. The Mysteries fell along the path of progress, the tales and stories regarded now as quaint or out of step with new realities, and magic faded from the world, lurked unheeded in the shadows by most.

We closed our hearts to wonder.
And yet...
Sometimes, someone ventures into those mists where legends shelter, and drags one out to shine it in the light of day. Or perhaps they weave one anew from raveled strands.

Passersby along the busy highways will catch a glimpse of the magic, or hear a faint echo of it, and begin to search for more...

And one by one, in solitary souls, the Mysteries are reborn...