It was weird being all on his own for once. Normally he and his brother were peas in a pod, cherries joined at the stem, inseparable. But with his brother practicing his magic and Lys running through combat practice, he didn't have anybody else to sit and talk with. Chrys was outside most of the time, and now Efrain was studying in Karith as an apprentice. He was feeling a bit lonely, or more like an empty pouch that once had marbles in it. His mother said it was alright for him to go out on his own, as long as he was careful. His father would be worried, but at that moment he was at work. 

With staff in hand and a mind full of curiosity, he left Uncle Walter and walked through the rolling hills and crags of the Highlands. Stopping by a small village, he gave a smile and nod as he stepped into their largest shop. It was more like a family-run store that sold anything from rope to animal traps, nothing fancy. After patiently listening to the clerk's sales spiel and repeating several times that he didn't really need a lamp, frying pan, or tinderbox–he settled on purchasing a braid of garlic so they wouldn't feel too bad. "Now see here young'un, this here's the best way to keep the boggarts and gremlins out of the larder." The aged lady with a shawl explained. "Second best thing to keep them sidhes away next to iron. Add a little rue and rosemary, and hang above the door–you'll keep them witches from enterin'."

"Witches?" He asked. The shopkeeper nodded slowly. "Yes, yes. Them dancin' lights out in the dead of night in the woods, them's a sure sign of witches. Babes here after being born sleep with a bundle of rosemary and rue so they don't get snatched. Stay away from the trees up past the Half-Moon Crag. Not even old Jed and his sons hunt there when food runs low." The silver haired boy nodded, repeating the location the kindly lady had told him. "Past Half-Moon Crag?" "Yes, yes. That's the place. Now take care." As he left the shop Cyril waved, the words echoing in his mind. Unfortunately for the lady, her warnings had set him on course to find said Half-Moon Crag at all costs as he wondered if there really were witches there.

Doing the exact opposite of what she had just told him to do, the half-fey began traipsing towards the old trees after asking several people on where Half-Moon Crag was. The process took him about an hour, since most of the villagers made funny faces and started coughing when he asked where it was. He finally got an answer out of an old farmer who was too slogged through his drink to speak without pausing, and he gave him surprisingly accurate directions through the slurred speech and hiccups. He then passed out shortly after. Poking his way through the deep woods, Cyril was searching for any signs of strange activity. It was daytime so there probably wasn't much to see, but that was just fine for him. Nighttime was more dangerous anyway.

Hefeydd sang a happy little tune to himself as a zipped through the tall grass, wrapped in shadows to conceal himself from mortal eyes. The song was a particular favorite of his. It told of a brave and heroic little fairy who made a deal with one of the big folk who then refused to uphold their own side of the bargain. The song told of the years of torment visited upon the mortal, each verse telling of the tricks played upon him, each becoming more gruesome. "…. and then he saw the eeeeyes!" he finished, his musical little voice ringing through the surrounding area. He would be close to the others by now, he was sure of it. Then he could report on his today's activities and have a well deserved snack!

The morning had begun very close by. It had been some time since Hefeydd had been to this area, but he still remembered where the good places were. Of course the people were gone, that happened very quickly with the mortals. But the buildings normally stayed in one place. He started with a healthy drink of milk from the wooden contraption they used to turn it into butter, taking his fill and souring the rest. It would not do to leave such delicious milk for others, it was his to enjoy and his alone. He flew up onto the roof and spent some time dangling his legs over the edge as he waited to for the human to wander by. She was plump and had nice red cheeks. He would leave her be, since she had such delicious milk. Perhaps he would come back for some more later.

He came upon a cluster of building after that. There was a large man outside, making all kinds of noise and fuss, shouting at some of the smaller mortals. His tiny brow furrowed in an angry frown. Getting closer, wrapped up in his shadows and moving quickly, he caught the big one's scent and followed it back to his home. Once inside, Hefeydd checked for any pests but found no hateful cats to bother him. It was with some glee that he set about knocking over plates, throwing cups across the room and in a fit of spite one large boot went into the fire. That done, he went to check once more outside. The mortals didn't seem to have noticed the noise from the house, which was good. Hed zipped up behind the man and pinched his butt before zipping off with a tiny cackle.

In the third house he visited there was another female, bent over a big iron pot. She was busy preparing food, but he couldn't see a single crumb left out for him! The nerve of mortals! Flitting around the home, he gathered up handfuls of spices, dropping them in the pot each time the woman's attention left the pot. He waited for her to taste it, leading to her spitting the food out and coughing at the flavor. He kicked his legs in the air, laughing gleefully, not caring if the woman heard him. From the way she spun around, she did. But he was safe from her eyes. On the way out the door he knocked over a bowl, exiting with the sound of it shattering on the floor.

So the day went on, until he had had his fill of mischief. At least, there in particular. That's how he ended up where he was now, tiny tummy rumbling away reminding him he should have taken food if none of the mortals had been considerate enough to leave any out for him. They would need to be revisited, taught the correct manners. He was passing through trees now, singing a new song, the words just nonsense. A sound from nearby made him pause. There was someone close, a big person from the sounds of the heavy footfalls. Perhaps there was still time for one more. Silent now, he flew up higher, moving carefully just below the branches. There, up ahead, was a mortal. His hair sure was pretty. Hefeydd's chest puffed out as he noticed how similar it was to his own. It would be a shame to do anything to him, but on the other hand, he had a duty to do!

He began searching the branches, travelling in circles around the mortal as he looked closely. It took longer than he thought it would, but eventually he found his treasure. Giggling to himself, he picked them up and carefully trailed his target once more. He overtook him, and hiding in the branches, he launched his goodies one after the other. Three eggs went sailing down, the first two missing completely but the third finding the mortal's head. Wings blurring, Hed flew up further into the leaves, cackling to himself.

Crack! Something fell right onto his head, and a few others hit the ground. With a hand Cyril felt something matting into his hair and pulled some off. It was viscous, a bit sticky, and with some white speckled fragments. He smelled it. Eggs? He looked about somewhat confused, not seeing where it came from. Squinting his eyes he searched the canopy above and all the nooks and crannies of the trees visually. There weren't any nests as far as he could tell. Where did these fall from? Now while most people would be hopping mad to have a raw egg cracked over their noggin, Cyril was simply puzzled. "…Hmm." How strange. He should take care to wear a hat or a hood from now on.

"Oh! Right…" Finding himself a nice rock to sit on, he pulled out his canteen and began washing out as much of the egg as he could from his hair. Better now than later, where it would dry and be even more difficult to remove. Rinsing his head with as little water as possible, he checked if there was still any yolk or eggshell left. Satisfied, he returned to his search. There weren't any signs of huts on legs or chanting, or even animal skulls propped up like scarecrows. But surely witches wouldn't allow themselves to be found so easily, so he believed he just needed to keep looking until then.

Cyril ventured deeper into the old forest growth where the canopy gradually blocked out more sunlight. Along the way he was on the lookout for little tracks, poking his staff into burrows and holes in trees. Maybe he should've brought a lantern? His other option was to set the entire area under illumination, but that would probably scare away any elusive creatures of folklore he might stumble upon. However walking in the dark would cause him to trip over himself, so he carefully weaved a coil of light to wrap about his walking staff. It was somewhat comical, like a clothes pole which was emitting a ridiculous amount of light–but it worked. It certainly was no ornate sorcerer's staff.

After what could have been a few hours of walking, he was feeling tired and peckish. Taking out a bit of bread and cheese he had bought from someone he had tried to ask directions from in the village, he first downed a gulp of water before biting in. Cyril ate slowly, contemplating the dry crust of the bread in comparison to the softer inside against the saltiness of the cheese. It was somewhat…tangy? Sharp, yes that was the term. So this was what they meant by 'sharp cheese'. There wasn't meat since the people farmed most of their food, but that was alright with him. Breaking off a small corner of the cheese, he smelled it to remember what sharpness was. And so he sat, half-daydreaming while having lunch.

Hefeydd fumed as he watched the mortal's reaction. He had done that before, many times! Reactions ranged from explosive anger to bitter sadness, but never before had a mortal just… Accepted it. He circled around above the mortal angrily, tugging at his hair as he sat down and calmly washed the egg from his hair. Shooting up through the branches, he hovered above the trees kicking and throwing around his arms in a tantrum. As quickly as it begun, he had moved past it. He drifted down lazily, like a feather falling through the sky as he thought about what to do next. His first strike had failed, so his next one would need to be more impressive.

The mortal moved on, and Hefeydd moved on with him, circling high above his head. The mortal seemed to be searching for something, but it was hard to tell what. He kept poking at holes, so perhaps he wanted to find a bunny? What a curious way to go about searching for a thing, just poke poke poke. As the darkness grew, Hed's own eyes adjusted to it, but the mortal needed to create a pretty light along the length of his poking stick. He found his eyes getting drawn to it more and more, instead of searching through the trees for something else to throw at the man. Perhaps that wasn't the right approach. If he could find some friends around here, however, maybe they would be willing to help him. A number of ideas whizzed through his head, and he began spinning around quickly as he thought about them. Yes, yes and yes! He would do them all! With the light from his stick serving as a beacon, Hed could afford to go further away from him, trusting he would be able to find him again with ease.

Hefeydd worked quickly. Unlike the mortal, he had no troubles finding some bunnies. Following their scent, he found a burrow and shrunk himself down so he could fly down there to meet them. His presence irritated them, they looked to be sleepy. But speaking with them he explained what he needed and offered them a reward. His little foot began to tap with irritation as the head bunny attempted to negotiate. A small ball of fire served as a warning, which they accepted. Good bunnies! That sorted, he flew off, leading them in the correct direction before turning to sort out the next step.

It took a little time to find what he was looking for, and this time he was much more careful about how he dealt with them. Their angry buzzing told him they weren't happy about this, but they were willing to help for a price. Hefeydd didn't want to cross the angry little bees. They were much more likely to follow through on a threat, and he didn't want their painful little stingers coming after him. Agreeing with them on a price, he again led them in the right direction before taking off to check in on his target.

The mortal was sat down when he arrived, eating a drinking. Hefeydd's own stomach growled at him angrily, and he became light headed for a moment, floating down to the ground. He indulged himself, laying there for a while before wrapping the shadows around himself once more. He had an idea! But he needed to act before the mortal finished. Sneaking over carefully, Hefeydd flew up and around, approaching the mortal from behind. As he landed behind him, eyeing the mortal's canteen, he smelled the mortal properly for the first time. He smelled human… But not entirely human. There was something familiar about the smell, but focused as he was on the canteen, Hed couldn't afford the brainpower to think about anything else.

The bunnies finally appeared in front of the mortal, seven of them, which proceeded to hop and dance about, hopefully fully occupying his attention fully enough. Reaching out slowly and carefully, Hefeydd griped the top of the canteen, planning to open it and spill it over the ground.

Lost in thought for a moment, he came to and saw a group of rabbits! He loved rabbits, very much so. However every time he tried to pet or hold animals–save for Millie but she had the patience of a convent sister–they would squirm or try to run away. Cyril never understood why they didn't like him. He always thought animals liked being cuddled and petted. Whenever he had an animal in his grasp, his brother or Lys would take them out of his hands. And so, when the mildly coerced rabbits were hopping about so close by he was more than delighted. "Oh! Rabbits!" With a smile on his face, Cyril suddenly stood up with a half-eaten sandwich in his hand. Not wanting to miss this rare opportunity, he crammed the rest of the food into his mouth and finished. Wiping the crumbs, he was about ready to scoop them up in a big hug when he paused.

"That's strange. Why aren't you running away? Normally they run away when I try to pet them." This was quite a conundrum, and he crossed his arms to think about it for a while. Wild rabbits normally run away from everybody, and pet rabbits always ran away from him. So if these were wild rabbits, why weren't they doing the same? Unless…they weren't actually rabbits. An epiphany dawned on him as he came to a logical, yet completely erroneous conclusion. At least he was right about something being off, but for the wrong reasons. Not that he'd ever know. 

"I see…I must be on the right track after all." This strange phenomenon further bolstering his belief that he was on the trail of finding some sort of mythical existence, Cyril felt that now was the time to pick up the pace. Those rabbits must be illusory, or probably were familiars of some being capable of arcane craft. Didn't witches typically have cats to serve as their scouts and messengers? Who could say that they couldn't use rabbits as well? Nobody would suspect a rabbit, after all they had no distinct connotations with magic and sorcery in folk tales. Therefore, this was a confirmation of his theory.

"I'm sorry Mister and Mrs. Rabbit, but I can't stop to play with you today. I can't allow you to distract me from finding what I came here for, even though you are very fluffy." Waving to the animals, he took his glowing walking stick to go on past them. He was so excited! He must be close to whatever was the cause of those rumors surrounding the forest of Half-Moon Crag! Like usual, he was completely oblivious to the fact that he was being followed and pranked.

Hefeydd's tiny heart dropped as the mortal took the food with him and went to look a the bunnies. No! This was all wrong! The mortal was meant to leave the food! Not stuff it into his big face! He collapsed, then, falling onto the floor and rolling around in frustration. He didn't even notice the mortal leaving until he had sat back up and saw that he was gone. The just would not do! Not at all! The bunnies had failed him, and as Hefeydd took to the air again he flung a little ice at them in frustration. Their act had been far too good, enticing the mortal far too much. Yes, that was it. He would not be rewarding them for their failures, not that he had been planning on rewarding them anyway. Now the mortal was getting away. Not for long.

As luck would have it, there in the distance, he could make out the glowing of the mortal's stick. It struck him then that he hadn't even been able to open the water vessel. The hunger was getting to him, that was all. A quick snack to settle his stomach and he would be ready once more. Glaring at the light ahead of him, Hefeydd began a quick search of the area and quickly found some berry bushed. He plopped down on the floor and began to gorge on them, juice squirting all over him as he happily ate. He began singing to himself then as his spirits lifted once more. His meal finished, and completely heedless of the state he was in, he took to the air once more. What had he been doing before his meal?

He danced lazily through the air, humming to himself as he weaved through trees. Up ahead he spotted a strangely glowing light. It reminded him a lot of ruses he used himself to draw mortals into the forest, using floating lights to entice and ensnare them. Something nagged at the back of his mind, then, causing his little brow to furrow. If this kept up he was going to develop frown lines. Deciding to investigate the light to ensure there weren't any cursed pixies encroaching upon his territory, he increased his speed.

There, ahead of him, was a mortal. With pretty silver hair, much like Hed's own. Something about him looked familiar… From before! The one who had been bothering him! It all came rushing back to him now. What had he been planning to do next to punish the mortal? He was sure there was something. Flying on ahead of the mortal, his ears pricked up as he heard a buzzing up ahead. Ah. The bees. Now he remembered. Was it a little too cruel, he wondered for a moment, to have them swarm the mortal? Many bees would die if they stung him, but the queen would receive the nectar in return and the mortal would be chastened. Everybody would win!

Circling back around, Hefeydd landed behind the mortal, quietly. With a little concentration he grew the weeds in the path of the mortal, making them thicker, hoping he could trip the mortal over. Thus distracted, the bees would then strike!

Fortunately for the fairy, Cyril wasn't necessarily the most observant person. The fact that it was both relatively dark and unexpected helped a great deal. He stumbled, glowing stick swishing as his footing was disturbed. The leaf-littered ground obscured its uneven state forcing him to brace his fall. "Ah!" That was a close one, he nearly fell flat on his face. As he checked for sprains or scrapes, he heard a faint humming. No, not humming. It sounded like…insects! Hefeydd's plan had come through at last, leaving Cyril unprepared. With so little time, there was no way to run or hide. It was all happening too fast for the half-fey to come up with a plan. If it had been his older brother in this situation, he might have thrown up a barrier of protection or used fire to scare the swarming bugs off. 

The light evaporated from his staff as he quickly tucked his arms and head in the best he could. Closing his eyes tight, the shadows of the forest darkened as he seemed to disappear into them. Vanishing into the pools of shadows cast by the dim canopy, all that was left was his walking staff abandoned on the ground. Cyril was more of a person to act on instinct than meticulous planning. So far he hadn't been sure if there was a magical presence in the woods. But after seeing the odd rabbits and an insect swarm coming after him just after he fell, even he could piece together that something didn't want him here. What ever it was, it didn't want him to continue any further. 

Druidic magic. This supported his theory of a possible witch living in the forest. Perhaps 'witch' was too general a term, and it was a disgruntled shaman warning intruders to stay away. Using an animal familiar, living in seclusion, and commanding insects were things that matched the powers of druids and some folktales of sorceresses. Village folk tended to label anyone who seemed suspicious as so, and often blamed disasters on people whom they considered outsiders to their community. But in some rare cases, their fears did lead to the death of sorcerers and enchanters–typically the harmless kind. If they truly tried burning an actual witch, that hunt would be over in an instant. Someone that powerful would never let a mob of farmers and peasants come close enough to be a threat.

All of these thoughts were percolating through his mind as he stayed hidden in the shadows, waiting for the insects to scatter and pass on. He was even holding his breath too; he had heard some insects could find people as long as they were breathing. Crossing his fingers, he hoped they would leave soon. 

Hefeydd held his breath as the mortal toppled, stifling a cry of triumph. He danced a little jig, waiting for the bees to show up and swarm him. It would be any second now, he could almost hear the panic and the shouting that would be coming! He stared at the human intently, hopping from foot to foot as he waited. When suddenly the light went out from the mortal's staff and the mortal just… Disappeared. Hed froze where he was, eyes narrowing in suspicion. Where had he gone? Where? There was nowhere to hide… Not unless the mortal could use magic for more than just pretty lights on his stick. Which was still over there on the ground. Did that mean the mortal was still around there, somewhere? Hiding from little Hefeydd? Scared of little Hefeydd? The thought that a mortal, one with the power to create prettily glowing sticks and make themselves vanish filled him with a surge of confidence. Yes, he was quite fearsome, wasn't he? Taking off into the air, he did a little loop, the froze. Where had the spot been where the mortal, a magic one of some kind, had fallen?

Hefeydd landed beside the stick and began carefully walking outwards from it, poking around the ground but completely unaware he had gotten himself turned around and landed on the wrong side. If the mortal were there, but invisible or hidden some other way, he would find him! After thirty seconds of prodding at the ground with his toes, he gave up. The mortal was gone, his magic must have spirited him away somewhere else. He had left his stick, though. How careless! The droning of the bees reminded him he had an obligation to fulfill. He had promised the bees nectar as a reward for their help. They hadn't really helped him, though, had they? Not really. Smirking to himself, he dropped the shadows from around himself and flew off to meet the bees, shrinking himself as he did.

He perched on the branch of a tree, half the size he had been when he made the deal with the bees. He was now all of five inches tall, sticky from berry juice, and a little bit dirty from all the dancing and playing around in the mud and leaves. He didn't care though. The bees began to buzz around him as he used magic to summon a jar of nectar for them. Having completed his end of their deal, he left the small jar unopened on the branch and then took off quickly. He didn't want to get into a fight, not with bees. Buzzing, stinging, hating things that they were. Always so many of them too. Oh no, he would leave them to their jar and find himself something else to do. Forgetting his shadows now, the forest being free of disturbances now the mortal had fled, he began weaving lazily through the trees.

He waited in silence, not moving an inch. After a while, the buzzing faded and disappeared. Were they gone? Slowly, carefully, a figure reemerged from the shadows. Cyril held still for a moment longer, letting his ears search for anything nearby. Finally he stopped holding his breath and sighed in relief. "That was careless of me. I should walk more slowly from now on." Tread lightly, walk slowly. Taking his staff, he decided that he would have to forgo his lights and continue on by sight. Perhaps whoever was sending these animals after him was growing angry. If he could meet them and talk, maybe they could reach an understanding. 

Several hours had passed. What time was it? It was difficult to tell if he was seeing sunlight choked by the trees or moonlight coming through the clouds. Clearly lost, he took out a strange contraption resembling a small slab. Pressing here and there, he waved his hand before its surface as it lit up and projected a visual map of where he had been. The projection was like a map inked in parchment and drawn by quill–but constructed of light and imagery. There were portions blank signifying unexplored areas, though that only applied to a small area from where he now stood. From the images, he had meandered quite a ways. Tucking it away into his belongings, he rummaged around until he pulled out a small pendulum. He had never used it before, but he might as well give it a try.

Holding it in his hands, he closed his eyes as he thought of what he wanted to find. "Show me where the one who sent the rabbits lives." He whispered to the piece of pink crystal on a chain. The pendulum swayed, though he was perfectly still. So it was that way? Whispering a thanks to the inanimate object, Cyril picked his way through the forest checking the pendulum ever few paces. The woods were dense as he approached the old forest growth. Trees thicker than a man was wide, leaf litter carpets, and the smell of moss were plentiful. Closing his eyes, he could feel a faint trail of magic somewhere. It was beginning to match up with the pendulum, and he was sure he was on the right path. 

Where would it lead him? Who or what would it be? This and many more questions filled his mind as he gradually closed the distance between him and it.

Hefeydd took some time on his way back, enjoying the cool night air. He flew along, swaying from side to side as he looked around idly. It had been a very busy day, and tomorrow would be another. There was no rest for poor Hed, no there wasn't. He circled a couple of trees, making figure eights while he enjoyed the sensation of the faintest breeze over his wings. It was a beautiful night.

Some time passed, Hefeydd was unaware of how long actually passed, time had little meaning for him. But it was about an hour before he reached the trees that he recognised as being close to the center of the fairy land in this forest. He liked the majority of these trees, they were nice trees. One stood out, lurking over there in the darkness. Hefeydd didn't like that tree. There was something about it that just wasn't right and he avoided it as much as he could. A little bit further and he would come across the ring of stones that would show him he was back. Then he could get something delicious to eat, something sweet to drink and somewhere soft to sleep. Then he could be up again and back at it! There should have been other fairies around by now, familiar faces that would be waiting to welcome him back. The forest was strangely quiet though. There should have been little folk flying around, shouting and laughing, playing with each other and with the animals. There weren't even any animals around that he could see or hear. It normally only got like this if there was danger around…

This thought sent him speeding up suddenly, flitting around in dizzying patterns as he tried to lose an imaginary predator. If there was someone following him, then he had led them to his friends! He froze as another thought struck him like a tiny mallet. Or what if the danger was here already? What if he hadn't been leading anything here, but he was going to be walking into some kind of trap? Ever so quickly he grabbed at the shadows surrounding him and wrapped them around his body, taking off into the branches and leaves above. He would need to scout the area! He was the First Night. If there was danger, it was his duty to protect the others.