#dreaming

Will O Wisps are myths, just ask the skeptic. Wisps are just flickers of light created by natural phenomenon, just ask the rationalist. Wisps are just what you call any random orb of light chimera, brainless, or at least no more cunning than a beast, ask almost any kithian. And yet, there are rumors of a type of not just chimera, but a kith in their own right.
That ever dwindling kith are the wysps. Born of dreams of guidance (both benevolent and malign) wysps once appeared to mortal eyes as lantern bearing strangers in the deepest woods and darkest roads. Like Eshu and Piskies, they traveled the roads, and yet like slaugh they shunned the brightness of day and often picked foreboding places that they did not stray far from. Some considered them the spirits of the dead, but that is not true, but they certain guided those spirits more than once. White witches on the road, the floating souls of nature itself that were curious at guests, there are many theories about their origins.
Some say the sin of the Wysps was vanity, reclused they were, but when interest was shown they could not help but peek out and bask in the wonder or fear they caused. Others say it was merely curiosity that made them behave thus, but if so, it is clear cats have survived their curiosity far better.
When the war of the trees began in mythic ages, the Wysps were needed as scouts and guides, yet where the Eshu stepped forward to do that task with pride, the wysps were reluctant to pick sides. They had walked the black paths with the Keremit, they had danced in the woods with the Fuath. They felt far more in common with many Adhene than some of the Kithain. Yet they did not wish to serve Fomorian masters. So they joined last, and , to their shame, served least.
It said that, after that war was done, that a Tuatha lord turned to the Wysp mother and declared "When the Breaking comes, you shall find yourselves broken in turn. Paths you favor you will elude you, and mortal man will think of you as the souls of their fallen sent to wander, yet no longer will you be able to gaze through to see them. Your very dreams will be divided as lots to fall to those who did fight, and you will be pale memories at best. As you sought to be of no consequence, you will find you and your children less and less of consequence with every passing century. Amends maybe made, but the means to that will not be known to you lightly, and never without cost. "
The Wysp mother shivered and begged for mercy,but the Tuatha gazed upon the field of dead sidhe lords who had truly been a shining host the woodwise trolls who had risked their selves for every bit of nature's ground, the sluagh who had spied and snuck and risked their lives, and yes, the Eshu who had tapped into their strange knack for roads and took on the part not of story tellers but guides. All these tasks the Wysps might have aided in, and due to their caution, others had paid the price.

And so when the shattering came , the wysps sought to flee to Arcadia…only to find themselves unable to not find the way! They pondered the black roads with the Keremit and boldest among the sluagh and wraiths they had once helped sort to their proper afterlives and yet now that shroud was a fog to them. Trapped in the Autumn world, they tried to undergo the Changeling way but when they asked how it was done, a strange fog clouded the minds of the other dreamt and they asked "Who are you?' Only the kindness of one whose name is lost to legend allowed them to learn, and by that time, many had been shattered and scattered like fog seized by winter and broken.
For every wysp that managed the changeling way, a dozen became as mere chimerical animals of light and lure. And even those that managed the changeling way did not always return. Some mistook them for fire inaminae, others for Keremit that had taken bodies permanently, and others simply ignored them. Others remembered the cowardice at the war of trees, and made welcome to the few holdings most cold.
By the time the Sidhe returned, True Wysps were almost extinct. Worse, where as the commoners had finally forgotten the rage at tales of Wysp Cowardice, to the sidhe the insult as but a year ago. Yet one lord invited the Wysp to send a representative to a meeting with other kith. That night would be known as the Night of Iron Knives…
And history took yet another twist for the dying kith

Appearance: Wysps glow. To mortal eyes, figuratively, to fae ones, quite literally so. They lean towards the lanky and athletic in mortal frame but their meins are a bit more ethereal, they lack the beauty of the sidhe (though many are quite alluring) nor the grotesque or off putting nature of redcaps or sluagh. The best term might be 'favorable side of odd'. They are very light on their feet, almost floating at times. Their vole varies, often harkening back to times of watchmen with lanterns, hobos with shining flasks, and well dressed funeral mourners with flowers of sedately bright hues.