Hey friend!

Welcome to the crazy funny fantasy blog, The Diary of a Wizard. This time out there’s a problem with the annual great moth faery migration. These moth faeries can get a little out of hand, let me tell you. So, I’ll need all the luck I can get.

***

The morning started normally enough but after a couple of hours the first moth faeries started to appear. It looked like the great moth faery migration had started a little early this year.

By seven minutes past high noon, there were thousands of the fluttering little things bashing against my windows. They’re called “moth faeries” not only due to their brown fluttery wings but also the way in which they fly with little control. This is because they spend the long summer feasting on fermented scrumpy apples from the orchard and getting all tiddly and squiffy.

They become very boystrous in vast numbers and this year seemed to be a bumper one. So naturally, fights were breaking out, pranks were being prunk and arguments were being argued. It seemed I would have to get out there and offer my guidance and aid to get them on their way and stop them from annoying every fae, witch, unicorn, troll, giant or dragon that should happen to be in their path and most importantly, the human village.

I donned my robes and pointy hat and went out into the woods. The air was thick with moth faeries, and they were bumping into every tree and building shouting and being quite the nuisance. They were clearly all highly intoxicated from the scrumpy apples.

That was when their exasperated leader came to find me. He was desperate for help. The mob was even getting out of his control and severely damaging the moth faeries already tarnished reputation.

“Help me, Mr Wizard,” he begged. “I am Leomoth, ruler of all the moth faeries and we need to get my fae-folk to the Misty Mountain without them destroying the human village. They’re sure to swarm there. That’s where all the lights are and more importantly the tavern.”

“Yes,” I replied. “The humans are sure to start swatting and bug spraying them. It doesn’t take much provocation for humans to kill stuff that they find a slight nuisance.”

“Yes, and we are in great numbers for this is a bumper year. All that fail to make it to the breeding grounds will not be able to make babies and we’ve only just been removed from the critically endangered list within the last 7 years.”

“We must waste no time,” I said. “I’ll call my trusty magical steed Horrace, and we’ll head for the human village….. Horace!”

Horrace arrived in seconds and I mounted up and with Leomoth in tow. We headed for the human village just like I said we would above.

We went through The Enchanted Woods while more and more moth faeries came. Soon they were thick in the air, and we could hardly see anything but fluttery brown wings. I even had to keep my mouth closed to stop them from becoming an accidental snack.

Speaking of snacks, soon the predators came. Not those big, scary aliens from the movies that go all invisible, but creatures that like to eat moth faeries. Such creatures as owls, and vampire bats, and big hairy spiders, and leaping lizards, and spitting tree pythons and moth faery faeries of course, which are faeries that eat moth faeries.

Many were lost to wicked beaks, spit, fangs and venom and many other demises besides. Some had passed out from tiddlyness and squiffyness for sleepy time and they made the easiest snacks of all.

Unfortunately, from the kafuffle in the distance it sounded like many of the moth faeries had already made it to the village. Horrace broke into a gallop and we made great haste.

We approached the village walls and from within we could hear the carnage. Raised voices, breaking glass, you know, the usual signs of total and utter rowdiness.

“Oh no, we have to stop them quickly,” Leomoth exclaimed. “Or they’ll start using insecticides and wiping us out in great numbers!”

“Shucks and good grief!” I cried. “Anything that ends in “cide” is always bad.”

We entered the village and Leomoth shouted at the top of his tiny lungs to call his fae to order but none of the moth faeries seemed interested. They were too busy drowning in flagons of ale or getting in the kitchen and feasting on the jam. The humans were frantic, swatting and splatting moth faeries in their dozens and who could blame them? This was a total invasion.

That was when I had a great idea. “Horrace, Leomoth, I’ve had a great idea as the narrative has already suggested. Go and switch off the generator so all the lights plink off. We need it deeply dark for this to work.”

Horrace and Leomoth ran or fluttered off to find the generator, and I put one of those Gandulf-style crystals on the end of my staff. The lights went out with a plink to everyone’s surprise and darkness was all around.

With the secret magic words, the crystal glowed brightly. The moth faeries started to swarm towards it. Horrace returned and I mounted up.

“Ingenious!” Leomoth cried. “Now they’ll follow the light to the Misty Mountains and leave these villagers in peace.”

There was a huge cheer from the humans as we went off. We were followed by so many moth faeries they looked like smoke rolling through The Enchanted Woods.

For hours we went, right through the night and somewhere near dawn’s crack we reached the edge of the woods and ahead we could see our quarry. The Misty Mountains. Above a million raucous faery voices coming from the mountains, I could hear the doof doof of base. There was music coming from ahead.

Soon I could see flags and bunting and stalls and tents and crowds. This was not just a mountainous home. This was an enormous moth faery festival. Then I saw the trees and the fruit the bore—perry pears.

“What’s happening here?” I asked Leomoth.

“It’s the winter festival. What happens, see, is every year, we go to the summer festival and get all tiddly and squiffy on scrumpy apples, then we up sticks and come and attend the winter festival where we get all tiddly and squiffy on fermented perry pears. Then we dance and make babies and stuff.”

“So, you just go from one festival to the next and party all year?”

“Yeah. That’s about the size of it.”

“I guess I better be off then.”

“Oh, no, you should stay a couple of days for the merriments. That’s the least we can do after all the help you’ve given us.”

“I’m not much of partier but I guess I can make this exception once. I know Horrace won’t say no.”

***

Now I’m back home with a pounding head I realise I can’t really relay what happened at the festival, mainly because I had too many fermented perry pears. Horrace is sleeping it off in the stable. He sounded much like a bear who’s head is sore this morning.

They have quite the life those moth faeries. They go from one party to the next. But pretty easy to see how they ended up on the critically endangered list to be honest. They’re as dumb as a box of rocks and always tiddly and squiffy which probably isn’t great for your species’ long-term survival. Though I must confess, it’s far better to burn out than fade away.

I’m gonna write some cool stories for you now so all remains is, I thank you for your time, and hope the month brings you magic laughter sunshine and love!

See ya next time friend! 
BB

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Dreamland Part 1 – The Fabric of Dreams
Dreamland Part 2 – The Masters of Light
Dreamland Part 3 – The Veil of Shadow