Here's the thing about magic: It's the only natural phenomenon that humans haven't been able to control. Mother Nature smirks with malice at their futile attempts to conjure up fire with spells they've heard from Brujeds, or get the power out of faliks trapped in jars. And it's almost innocent of them, trying to reach it with their clumsy paws. Because as big as they've grown, magic is not part of them, and will never be. No matter how much they try to swallow stars, only the Chimnelen are able to handle the heat. No matter how fast they go, only Regiae can jump through time.
Even if the enchanting Eleais were to breed with one of these spiteful creatures, the offspring would be too obtuse to comprehend its power, and would burn up before their first year went by. And thus, humans can't do magic. Can't be born from it. And that's a fact of life. Those who try to defy it, only end up disappointed in the best cases. In the worst, they get trapped inside a Dramti's belly. Of course, that doesn't stop them one bit from trying.
Perhaps one of the strangest cases of these lunatics, was the one of Hugo Ettinger, who deduced that if he were able to communicate with a magic creature, perhaps they'd be able to explain to him just what magic is. Of course, the only creatures who speak in human languages are the Tellae, who are elusive as they are dangerous. Any unlucky creature that dares to stand near their moonlight spots is considered as good as dead.
Excerpt from Ettinger's Journal:
I saw one of them last night. It was short, and appeared as if made of stone. As for its shape, it changed everytime I looked at it, even going as far as making a parody of a human. It did not seem scared, nor amused. The creature avoided dark patches of the forest, and the only feature that remained the same on its body were the pair of long horns that sprouted from its head.
"What is your name?" I asked, and it cocked its head.
"Won't you tell me yours first?"
"You'll eat me if I tell you!"
"How silly... Those are the Tintum you're referring to... I will eat you either way."
"I'm not scared of you, Tella. I came to talk." The creature stretched, now in the form of a cat. Each time it re-shaped, it sounded like insect legs scurrying around.
"And what will you talk about? No one will ever listen to what you have to say once I'm done with you."
Hugo Ettinger didn't survive the night. As for his journal, it was found untouched next to his remains. Even so, he's now known as one of the main contributors to the Magic Creature research, being his the most complete report on Tellae that a human has ever achieved (note that plenty of other creatures have had closer encounters and didn't have as many orthographic mistakes on their notes).
The reader should not be led to believe, however, that all magic creatures despise humans. Some of them maintain tight relationships with them, and even go as far as sharing an abode or a relationship with the like. And althought the author, an honorable Mubee, thinks of the idea as repugnant, it is essential for scientific knowledge to spread this information. To all delicate species, please read with precaution.
The Kikepi will offer humans their services as guardians in exchange for knowledge about sewing and mending. They tend to forget their gold, and would much rather wear a pouch around their necks than to carry it inside their scales. They often sleep in a corner of the laundry rooms, and will even go as far as breathing out butterflies for the children's enjoyement.
If we consider all this, we can come to the conclusion that even if humans are unable to comprehend magic, magic creatures are in the same position, if not worse, when it comes to human matters. Perhaps one day we'll come closer to understanding each other world's, as chill-inducing as the idea seems now. But until that day comes, the curse of nature will go unperturbed.