The Flight of the Fireflies

They were eighty miles down the Grand Route D'Etoile, and the traffic was an absolute nightmare. Rathnait clicked her tongue. "Would you look at this mess!"
Hundreds of power-wagons were backed up on the main road between the Etoile Capital City and Patino, and nothing was moving, but that was to be expected. All indications were that the Flight was to happen tonight, and the farm here had just been profiled in Sauvage as one of the best places to watch the night's events. This, of course, meant crowds, which meant money-making opportunities, which meant problems, which demanded the watchful eye of an officer of Etoile. Though in this case, said officer would be walking.
"Let's go, Tarvo, Eila." The trader pulled her power-wagon off the road and parked it with two wheels in the gully along the road, careful not to drive into the waving wheat stalks. She stepped down from the coach seat lightly, and the two guards tugged their packs off the back of the wagon, before the group began to walk past the stopped traffic.
"No funny business, you two. We're on Principality time and Etoile would have its Florins spent wisely." Rathnait moved at a brisk pace. "If we can get this wrapped up before sunset, you may have time to enjoy the Flight, but until then it's all business."
"Yes, Master Trader." Eila drew out the last syllable with an exaggerated Askri drawl. "What, did you expect us to start rutting like the rest of these animals as soon as the lights started rising?"
Tarvo shook his head. "Can we not talk about this?"
A short bark of laughter. "What you do on your own time is most definitely not my concern." More than a few of the power-wagon drivers were looking at the three enviously as they walked past. No chance any of the drivers would make it to the farm entrance anytime soon, if the information Rathnait had was accurate. A few of them seemed to have realized this, and had simply parked off the road to picnic in place.
The guardsman kept his gaze locked forward, pointedly ignoring one couple who were already embracing in the evening light. "You would think that they would at least wait until the sun went down."
"Sometimes love just can't wait for anything. Anything at all." Eila was walking with a light step, nearly skipping. "It was such a romantic description in the journal. Rich enough to set any maiden's heart aflutter." She put a hand on her chest and made an exaggerated gesture. "A girl could faint and die happy in her true love's arms."
"I know for a fact you don't buy into any of that, but how does any woman who isn't a child fall for any of that blather?" Tarvo shifted the weight of his pack. "Who keeps these terrible rags in business?"
"Just because you dislike it doesn't mean it doesn't sell well in the Capital, Tarvo." Rathnait shook her head and adjusted her traveling cap. "I actually have a decent amount of Florin invested in Sauvage. Their numbers are quite good and growing rapidly."
"I'm not saying it's a fraud, Rathnait. I'd just like to see all the people buying it up and try to figure out what makes their hearts beat. Powdered sugar? Tulips? Whatever other fripperies." The guardsman gestured forward. "We're here."
Ahead, a large signpost announced the entrance turn-off to Claydd Farm, and two men were flanking the entrance gate as power-wagons slowly creeped past. They were stopping each wagon at the gate, and after a delay, each driver was handing over a fistful of Florin notes before proceeding past the gate and into a dusty lot surrounded by wheat. Rathnait strode up to the first.
"And what is the meaning of this?" The trader's voice was clipped and cold. "Why is the public thoroughfare blocked?"
One of the men spat on the ground. "Toll to watch the Flight tonight. Not our problem if the road's all cocked up."
Rathnait narrowed her eyes, before pulling her insignia out from her blouse. "I am Rathnait of Numio, Master Trader and Officer of Etoile. Would you care to repeat that last statement, and also explain why Senio Claydd is charging a toll for an entrance road built at Principality expense?"
The man on the far side made a motion towards his belt with his hand, and stopped as Eila drew a throwing knife. "You do not want to do that." She spun the knife between her fingers.
The trader sighed. "Unless you get your employer out here and speaking to me, I will remand the two of you into the custody of the Principality of Etoile for impeding the work of an Officer of the State." She put a hand on her hip and glowered. "Well? Get moving. Tarvo, make sure traffic into the lot flows smoothly, then block it off once it's full."

---

The last of the twilight was disappearing from the sky when the first light rose out of the wheatfield. All buzz and conversation among the audience came to a halt as a second, more hesitant light, rose up and out, and then came the torrent. Hundreds of fireflies began to float up and out of the wheat, thousands of tiny incandescent dots flitting about in the air, great clouds of yellow light illuminating the evening.
Eila nudged Tarvo. "Good we got front row seats?"
"Mmm." Tarvo was enraptured. The farm issue was settled and the traffic on the main road clear; Rathnait had given them an hour or so before they had to retrieve the power-wagon. The guardsman was wide-eyed, watching the Flight in full course. He had never seen anything like it. A river of light pouring out from the plains and up and onward into the sky, dancing against the darkened sky and the dim moonlight.
Then his attention came crashing down to earth. Most of the other tourists were busy staring at each other instead of the Flight, and a sudden gasp of breath made him sigh. "Did this really have to turn into something so...prurient?"
The guardswoman rolled her eyes. "Let people have their simple pleasures, Tarvo. There's nothing wrong or immoral about this. It's nature! They're just being natural."

History

The great plains between the Etoile Capital City and Patino, the Machine City have always hosted an unusual phenomenon. Fireflies from across Saibh would travel to the fields here in early summer, in a great migration. Once a critical mass arrived, the fireflies would reproduce in staggering numbers, and as soon as the overland tradewinds shifted course, thousands of newly spawned fireflies would take flight and scatter across the wind all over the continent.
The establishment of large farm plots in the area changed the pattern, as at first farmers hated their crops being destroyed by the massive swarms and would deploy reagents to attempt to control the fireflies. A tourist consortium in the Capital intervened, sensing an opportunity; instead, the farmers were given a specific crop to grow eight weeks prior to the estimated time of the Flight, in order to feed the Flight. The new abundance of food led to fireflies reproducing in the millions, which led to large numbers of tourists converging on the area in the early summer.

Execution

The local farms plant a fast-growing wheat strain roughly two thirds of a season prior to the predicted Flight date, which is always in the early summer at the time the winds shift. As that specific crop is not commercially viable, farmers are given subsidies and sponsorship by multiple tourist consortiums and enterprises to make their land available and hospitable for the tourist season.
The nature of the event has resulted in a large amount of marketing the Flight as an event for lovers, with the relevant manufactories producing associated products by the wagon-load in an attempt to cash in.

Components and tools

The area of the Flight, while not too far away from major cities, is remote enough that most people ride Power-Wagons to the event.

Observance

The day of the Flight is predicted in an almanac published every year by The Academy of Etoile, and flyers posted in the major cities keep everyone aware of the fact. The date is occasionally wrong, as the actual event depends on the shifting of the overland wind pattern.

Primary Related Location

Saibh