A thousand years ago...

Niriinya stood on the cliffs of DĂșn Aonghasa . Wisps of her silver hair had been pulled out of her bun and danced around her face. To the passerby she appeared to be a woman in her forties or fifties. Of average height, dressed in simple clothes. If one looked closer however, her face, despite it's aged lines was beautiful, and there was a sparkle in her deep blue eyes that could make one pause in wonder; eyes that were gently closed at the moment. She enjoyed being there and letting the wonder of the cliffs inundate her senses. The smell of the sea, the feel of the wind on her skin, the roar of the waves crashing, and the sight of it all allowed her to step out of time and away from her worries.

Drawing her shawl tighter around her shoulders she turned her wrinkle encrusted eyes to the sun setting over the ocean, the sky lit with bright orange and pink clouds. She wanted so badly to back up a hundred feet and run towards the edge at full gallop. Just before falling off the cliff she would sprout wings and soar gently down along the cliff face like the gulls. Unfortunately, even at the late hour, there were still a few humans hanging around to glimpse the sunset as well. She didn't begrudge their presence, however. While it saddened her not to be able to walk among them in her true form, it was moments like this, seeing them enjoy the natural beauty of the earth, that still gave her hope. If only all the others of her kind could understand them the way she did.

Her kind. She shook her head at that. Before the human population on the earth had grown and spread out over all the lands, her kind, had only referred to other unicorns. Now however it referred to all beings that were connected to the Source, and had what the humans call magic. Two thousand years ago, frolicking through the woods, in the heart of Europa, she never would had thought she had anything in common with the bloodthirsty Wyverns from the north, but a common enemy can unite the most unlikely of allies.

Over the ages as the number of humans grew and spread out across the land, it was impossible to avoid them. Despite being intelligent creatures, they had no way to communicate with the humans, as their language was far different. 'If we could've just communicated,' she thought, 'we could have learned so much from each other.' Instead, her kind were seen as dangerous and sometimes prized beasts and they were hunted relentlessly. A thousand years ago the oldest and most powerful of all the races had come together and conjured up the magic that allowed them to take on human form, thought and speech; essentially hiding from the humans, in plain sight.

Not all were keen on living the lie and chose to remain in their natural form and retreat high into the mountains, or far below the earth. As a result, humans soon forgot that they had ever existed and now only spoke of her kind in their legends and myths of old. This fact had given rise to a specific term, that had begun to be used by some of the younger generations. In it's way it united them all, no matter their race. So now her kind, was a much more inclusive group. Beings that called themselves, 'Mythics.'