This Wandering Gleam

QLFC 2020

Practice Round: So Beautiful

Seeker Prompt: Evanescent (prompt word not required to be used in story)

Word Count: 885 (I guess it's a good thing this is the practice round!)

With some additional inspiration from Ralph Waldo Emerson:

"We cannot approach beauty. Its nature is like opaline doves'-neck lustres, hovering and evanescent."


Luna was standing over a giant pot of stewing Plimpies and trying to decide if it needed more cumin or paprika (probably both), when Rolf bounded into the kitchen and held out an old boot to her.

"I've got a surprise for you," he said, looking like he might burst with excitement. Luna immediately set a stasis charm on her stew and grabbed the tongue of the boot, which she assumed was a portkey.

"Where are we going?" she asked, eager for an answer, but also hoping he wouldn't tell her, so she could savor the thrill of blind anticipation a little longer. She couldn't wait – Rolf liked to surprise her all the time, and she'd never been disappointed.

"You'll see," he said, eyes sparkling and smile widening.

Their portkey activated a moment later, whisking them away in a familiar rush. It was a long enough ride that Luna knew they must be going somewhere very far away. Of course, she had already assumed that was the case, since Rolf had brought a portkey instead of offering to Side-along her, but she thought now that their destination was probably on another continent.

When the spinning slowed, and she could finally see where they were landing, she gasped in delight. The sky was awash with pale oranges and pinks, and the sun, dipping low, let a few last beams escape to light up a shimmering kaleidoscope of colorful leaves in the forest below.

"Oh, Rolf," Luna said, as they touched down in a hillside meadow between the trees.

"Yeah," he said, obviously feeling just as overwhelmed at the sight as she was.

They stood together watching the sun drop below the horizon, the colors shifting to darker hues as it went, but no less magnificent.

"How beautiful," she finally said, when only a hint of deep orange remained.

"Well," Rolf scratched his head, "um, that was just a bonus, I suppose. What I really brought you here for should be emerging any minute, if I'm right."

Luna didn't doubt that he would be, and turned back to the dimming meadow, eagerly scanning it for any indication of her surprise. There was nothing yet, however, and the stars began to slowly emerge as they waited quietly in the deep navy and purple of true night.

Then, a small flash of light came, and vanished as quickly as it appeared. Luna saw it with the corner of her eye, and spun toward it, only to turn back as another played the same trick in the opposite direction. She heard Rolf laughing softly at her twirling about, but after those first two there was no need to search, as dozens more lights emerged, flickering unpredictably across the entire meadow.

"Glow-worms!" Luna exclaimed happily.

"You're very, very close," Rolf said. "They're in the same family."

Before Luna could guess again, the tiny creatures, as if their previous flickerings had merely been a warm-up, suddenly began to (almost literally) explode with all colors of the rainbow.

"Firework-flies," Luna realized, awestruck. She reached back to twine her fingers with Rolf's and give them an appreciative squeeze. It was an impressive find, as firework-flies were rarely seen, and usually travelled in very small groups, hiding within larger families of ordinary fireflies in the northern Americas.

Rolf had somehow located a truly monumental gathering, and they didn't seem shy at all. There were thousands of them gathering in the meadow, giving off tiny little crackling sparks that quickly faded and then were renewed again, forming a shimmering tapestry, a blizzard of colors.

"Oh, they're wonderful," she whispered, not daring to speak louder and interrupt their work.

But it almost seemed like the little creatures had heard her, because suddenly their activity became quite frantic, and their colorful flashes began to display more and more complex patterns and pictures. The entire sky was their medium, and they covered every space in fleeting sparkles of shifting color.

Luna nearly forgot to breathe for the beauty of it, completely enraptured by their movements. If asked, she wouldn't have been able to describe or explain what the firework-flies were creating in front of them – it was a transcendent, incomprehensible feeling.

Eventually, however, the firework-flies must have grown tired, because the show slowly grew less chaotic and vibrant, until only perhaps a few dozen remained sparking their lights. They were doing a truly admirable job, but they were obviously tired.

"Oh, thank you, thank you!" Luan began to clap, hoping that the ones who had stopped lighting up were still within earshot, although she was sure that the ones still lingering would pass it on.

"Thank you so much," she told the few who were still faintly glowing. "That was lovely; I've never seen anything like it."

One of them, emanating a soft purple light, flew towards her slowly. Luna held very still as it came closer, and it landed gently on her nose. She had met many creatures, magical and ordinary, rare and common, and yet these kinds of moments, when nature extended a hand to her, still filled her with a kind of reverential feeling.

The firework-fly rested on the tip of her nose for a few solemn seconds, and then flitted away, light fading until it was lost in the deep violet dark of the meadow.