The Owl and the Silverwing

Celwyn the owl sat hunched on a branch. The light of the full moon illuminated the right side of his face so that all you could see of him, if you looked carefully, was half an owl amongst the shadows.

He blinked once only.

He was waiting for the moth.

The great silver moth had eluded Celwyn all his life. It was the only moth he couldn’t catch, big and silver with a knack for taunting him by flying always just out of reach. He wanted to EAT that moth. But he was getting to be an old owl, at last. His sight wasn’t as sharp as it used to be. Sometimes he couldn’t make out a rabbit from a rat in the long grass…

But he could see THAT! If you looked at the branch at that moment, there would be no owl at all: Celwyn was off in a silent swoop toward silver fluttering between forest trees.

The owl skimmed toward it through dappled moonlight… two owl-flaps away now… one owl fla – The moth disappeared behind a tree trunk. Celwyn did not.

FLUMP!

***

The owl awoke, dazed, at the roots of an ancient oak. Bright, glowing lights were floating around him… multicoloured lights…

“You can help us now!”

Celwyn opened his eyes fully. Five glowing little people stood along a root beside his head: a white fairy, a green fairy with gold wings, a purple-and-blue fairy, a rose pink fairy, and an orange fairy who was hopping up and down emitting sparks with each jump.

The purple-blue fairy fluttered forward a little. “We healed your feathery self, now will you help us cross the river and re-enter our kingdom?”

Celwyn clacked his beak. It seemed to be in working order. The rest of him felt wonderful, like he’d had a drink from the purest stream in the forest. Nevertheless, he was puzzled, which was rare for an owl. “Cross the river?” he said. “You have wings, don’t you?”

“We are banned from entering our kingdom beyond the water!” tinkled the white fairy. She turned and pointed a tiny arm (it was about as long as one of the owl’s claws) behind her, toward the sound of rushing water. “We used Speedy Quick spells on our grasshoppers for the Leaf-Fall Grasshopper Races. It is illegal – "

“ – But very effective!” piped up the orange fairy.

“ – and now we’re banished to this side of the river,” the white fairy went on, “banned from all the parties and dances, until we bring back the Fairy Queen’s silver moth, lost many seasons ago.”

“We have agreed,” said the purple fairy, whose voice was like a soprano cricket, “that we should do a Speedy Quick spell on you, which will help you catch the silver moth. But be sure not to squash him, because Her Sparkliness would be very upset! We would miss the parties for a long, long time!”

The owl wasn’t one to turn away from fairies who needed help. He stood up. He let his lids drop over his enormous eyes in a slow owl blink, and when he opened them again he said, “Fine. It has been my life-long endeavour to catch that fluttery moonwing, silver as your bubbling fairy river, elusive as a ghost – "

“Yes, yes, OK!” cried the fairies together.

“Enough!” said the white fairy.

“Please!” The emerald fairy emitted a shower of green sparks. “When you get the moth, bring him here and we’ll fly across the river together to meet the Fairy Queen.”

Then the fairies were streaks of multicoloured light, zooming around Celwyn. He felt a shiver from the top of his head to the tips of his claws, and his wings felt super strong. He wanted to fly! When the night grew still around him once again, only four fairies glowed along the root: orange, white, blue and pink.

“Let’s go!” came a tinkling call from his back.

***

The owl caught the moth. In a manner of speaking.

It was all a rush of night air and the hoots of the green fairy on his back. He was so close! He was gaining air on the magic silver moth, swooping round tree trunks and through branches like the first magic owlcrobat. And there it was, half a beak away.

He didn’t think.

He crunched it in his beak, landed on a tree branch and swallowed it silver wings and all.

He sat there. There was no sound but leaves in wind. His lifelong ambition…

What had he done?

A little voice on his back wailed, “What have you done!”

…

Back by the river, the five fairies were so distraught they were each just a dull glow on the leafy forest floor. The owl sat on a low branch without a hoot.

“Our spells have now killed the Queen’s moth!” cried the white fairy. “We’re stuck here!”

“I bet they’ll make us compost leaves!” said the pink fairy, who really preferred growing raspberries.

A white pinprick of light split the night and began to expand between the fairies and the owl's tree. It was like so much light compressed into a tiny space, and exploding into… A fairy Queen stood before Celwyn and the five fairies.

The Queen of the Forest stood with bare feet on leaves shining golden in her light. Rubies sparkled in her black hair. Her dress was gold – or did it shine like diamonds in sunlight? Celwyn couldn’t tell. In her presence he could hear bubbling streams, flute music, and the scents of spring forest flowers.

The fairies curtsied – little glowing figures shining at full brilliance in their Queen's circle of light. The owl didn’t know how to curtsy, so he dipped his beak.

“I ate your moth, your Majesty,” he said.

“Yes, I suppose you did.” The Queen's face was solemn. “Have you looked at yourself, Owl?”

He glanced at his chest feathers. He extended a wing and stared at it. His feathers were silver! They emitted a faint silver light, like… yes, just like the moth he’d been trying to eat all his life.

“You have become a Magic Owl,” the fairy Queen said. She grinned. “Will you join my Kingdom and tell magic stories as my moth used to do? I will ride upon you at events and parties. Of course, you’ll still fly free, and gather stories from the forest realm and even beyond. You’ll live a long time and be impossible to catch... unless with fairy magic.”

She looked at the five fairies.

“You five can come back home. You tried. It’s hardly your fault the owl ate the moth.”

And they all lived happily – believe me. They’re fairies.