Charles Darwin sat on a warm rock, sketching the marine iguanas as the sun went down. They spat salt water from time to time, another of the adaptations he had noted in these unique animals of the Galapagos Islands. In his notebooks were dozens, hundreds of sketches. His time here had brought him to an understanding that new species did evolve from existing species. His theory that was just taking shape, survival of the fittest, could lead to an explanation of any form of life on earth.

The sun gave way to a soft indigo glow and a night full of stars; the marine iguanas had abandoned their rocks and returned to the water. The full moon sparked highlights on the waves, lit the rough land in a pallid glow. Still, Darwin lit a lamp, and continued to draw and to muse, making notes in the margins of his sketchbook. The marine iguanas were not so different from other lizards he had seen. The birds, insects, and other animals here were similar to their European counterparts, but different in many ways. New species.

Darwin smiled. His return home would be a triumphant one. He had gathered hundreds of new species, mainly insects, preserved in jars of alcohol. There would be enough evidence by far to prove his theory of evolution to the world.

A shimmer of pink caught his attention, not from his lamp and not from the direction of their camp. Darwin quickly blew out his lamp, to study the strange new light. Could there be some cousin to fireflies on these islands? Some new insect that glowed pale red rather than the yellow of true strain fireflies?

There it was again. A pale, pale red, darting about as a firefly would. A blue glow soon joined it, followed by two greens and another red. Darwin was excited by this variation within the species. Surely this would be more proof of his ideas! He made his way over to the mysterious lights, moving slowly in the sparse moonlight.

Darwin’s vision was excellent, yet what he saw made him doubt his eyes. As he approached the four lights, the tiny shapes resolved into a semblance of human form. They looked like slender dolls with transparent wings. To his surprise, the shapes darted nearer, just as eager to examine him. Close now, Darwin saw that these were people! Tiny people, complete with eyes and nose and mouth and shimmering, iridescent hair.

“My God.” Darwin said.

The four strange, little creatures started at his words, then began chittering excitedly and flew even nearer. Darwin could detect rich variety in the calls of the little creatures, far more than even the most dramatic songbird. This was language! Impossible! Thoughts of ancient stories spilled up from memory; Tales of Will-O-The-Wisps, stories of the little people. Of pixies and goblins. Of the Seelie Court and the faerie folk.

Darwin felt faint. He clutched his sketchpad to him, tried to think rationally. Could these little people have evolved on their own, from a common stock of man? As the giant turtle and the common tortoise shared a common ancestry, could these little people have the same ancestors as he himself?

Darwin studies the little people. They chatted excitedly, and glowing sparks that cast no heat shed from their wings. Various people, Darwin knew, shared common ancestry. Even apes, Darwin could accept as having common distant ancestors. But these were nothing like him, save in a miniature form. These were nothing like anything, they could not have evolved from anything. Nature did not create these little people through survival of the fittest. Nature had nothing to do with this!

Darwin gave one last, longing glance at his sketchpad. He sighed, and then hurled it into the ocean. It sank without a splash, just like his theory of evolution. Depressed, Darwin ignored the little people and turned to head back to camp. It was time to go home.