Children like yourselves are full of magic, but the men have turned, they've lost their magic to the fear and hatred they harbor for all that they can't explain, control, or understand.

Go and play. Run around. Build something. Break something. Climb a tree. Get dirty. Get in some trouble. Have some fun.

Both sides so blinded by their fear and hate of each other that they couldn't see they were all fighting for the same thing.

My tale doesn't end there, for the end has yet to be written.

Enough talk," Peter said, and his eyes flashed. "It's time to turn you three into killers.

The darkness is calling. A little danger, a little risk. Feel your heart race. Listen to it. That’s the sound of being alive. It’s your time, Nick. Your one chance to have fun before it’s all stolen by them, the adults, with their cruelty and endless rules, their can’t-do-this, and can’t-do-that’s, their have-tos, and better-dos, their little boxes and cages all designed to break your spirit, to kill your magic.

The boy planted his hands on his hips and a broad smile lit his face. "My name's Peter. Can I play too?