Fable.

Disclaimer: I actually help both JK and the WB get richer and richer with my wish to escape reality by being absorved in Potter's world. I however do not make Scholastic richer for I'm a non-english speaking barbarian. I promise to learn English if they don't sue.

It started soon after magic renaissance. Plague has come by, and people were starting to forget, like they always do. Perhaps it started silly, like going 'Oooh the world is round', because for us, the children of magic, shape has nothing to do with it. It was humorous, almost like their fires and their churches.

It was a distortion of the meaning beyond. They made facts and laws, and things to justify their lack of magic. In fact, If I remember correctly their Hell (That' which they fear above everything) is the absence of God. I guess that means for us, hell must be the absence of magic.

We laughed and danced and sang in those times. Muggles were nothing but things to pity, for they would never grasp magic but only imagine it.

And then… things started to go too far. An apple hit someone, and the next day they would be babbling about gravity or some nonsense like that. They would predict eclipses, and perhaps that stung worse, for they have reached into something that was unmistakenly ours.

We didn't want to share ourselves. Help them, yes of course, but not share. It would be dangerous if we let them into our world with only a little knowledge, dangerous indeed for both.

And so the Diaspora began. And so did the plights of 'We don't have to go into hiding. This is our world; they are the ones who should cower!' Those plights were quiet and far between, another mistake to let it grow deep and vast in the darkness of our minds. It was because of the muggles vulnerability that we left. We would survive; their world never fully touched ours, but rather the other way.

And so we went, with our magics, and our dragons and our medicine.

So they stayed. Afraid, and in darkness. Church the only place for peace.

Perhaps for that was the only thing left of us, this 'almighty power' unseen and ever knowing. This almighty power that could be summoned with pleads and chants.

In the unseen we built, and discovered. In the unseen we florished without prying eyes.

In the beyond muggles invented. They no longer had dragons nor fairy. Merlin became legend, and they seeked to plague their world with marvels like the ones they lose.

Soon, there were greek fires. Soon alchemy became chemistry. Soon there were trains, and planes.

Soon, there were rockets, and planet and a sun.

Soon there was science.

And too late we knew what was happening. For their facts, and laws and rules started to apply. They could create light and fire, and things beyond our reach.

And we understood then. They no longer needed magic.

The church saw this too, and fought it did. Blasphemy, and heresy.. Practices we understood. Wine and blood were the only thing needed. Things didn't need a reason to happen they just did.

Brave, loyal church.

In the end this science ate God. God was no longer acceptable. There was no explanation for it, but rather explanations for the lack of it.

Science could explain, name and make everything work.

And soon it will eat magic too.

It was in those times, that my voice took the long forgotten plight.

Called this because in a way it was a renaissance of the old ways, fire, herbs and dance became what it once was, pure, incompressible power. The rite of the goddess came back to our lives, and fable and tale were as strong as they would ever be. People knew the danger of songs and darkness in that time.