The humans called them the Seraphim, for they were as those angelic beings written in ancient texts; godlike, winged, and beautiful. The creatures had fallen from the stars in wondrous white ships shimmering with gold and light. Whrn they first stepped on the earth, they stretched the four feathery wings protruding from their backs and took to the skies, dark eyes glimmering with wisdom. And not every Seraphim was like the last. They had a human like from, despite their wings and unnaturally tall size. Some had gray wings, others brown; their leader’s wings were as white as fresh winter snow. Aliens, the human governments called them. Gods, the rest of the world said. For the Seraphim meant no harm. Or so they said. They moved throughout the world, their wings taking them where ever they wanted to go. But there was also a sort of magic to them; the way they looked as though they were floating without moving their wings, or the way their eyes would change colour depending on their mood. Despite the strangeness of the Seraphim, they soon fit on Earth and lived in places unoccupied by human life; places touched by the magic of the Seraphim would be forever changed, though no human knows how. It has been years since the Seraphim inhabited Earth, and the mystery of these angelic aliens has yet to be uncovered.