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“They say that history is defined by the winners,” the wraith, whom we shall call ‘Mist’ for the purpose of anonymity, said to me as he nursed a cup of borovan. His façade was flickering between deep midnight and a rich purple. “The veterans of the Wraith Conflict know this very well.” I had to apologize, Wraith Conflict? I asked him. “Oh right, the Neopian side calls it the Faerie’s Ruin… but on the Aipoen side, it was our last stand against Faerieland’s enslavement of our children.”