An then, trees spoke

Just before she lost her consciousness, the old woman told us to pick her old staff and take her into de woods. We thought it was almost suicidal, given the circunstances.

However, we followed her request and prepared an improvised stretcher to carry the hermit. But when we took a last glance out of the wndow before leaving, just to make sure it was safe outdoors, the impossible happened: The forest had come to us.

And then, trees spoke.

The attack

Last night the old woman warned us that something or someone was hanging around the house. Watching out so that we were unseen, we observed through a window two big creatures of monstruous appearance that were inspecting the place. One of them was carrying something on its hand.

After some minutes looking at them, we heard some voices that were somehow familiar to us and shivering we understood that the shape-shifters were back.

After walking around for a while they went towards the stables and before we could do something to stop her, the hermit run towards them, probably to protect the animals. The phooka and the puck quickly leapt on her and we, armed with iron fireplace pokers, went to her aid.

It all happened too fast. Soon the shape-shifters were running away, now in their small true appearance, leaving behind the bundle one of them was carrying: our notebook.

We picked it up still scared but also relieved and as we stepped into de house again, a noise attracted our attention. We turned back and saw the phooka, who was playing its flute very close to us, and in the twinkling of an eye it used the instrument as a blowpipe and shot a small spear...

...directly to our hostess' chest.

Saint Patrick's day

Last night, after midnight, this little fellow knocked the door of the small house. He came riding a big black-faced sheep towing a big barrel of beer. When our hostess saw him a radiant smile of happines was drawn on her face and she let him in.

Before putting the barrel in the kitchen and driving the sheep to the barn we joined them. It seems this little leprechaun was an old friend of the hermit and every year he visits her bringing with him a lot of beer, which also shared with us this year.

For some reason we fail to gasp the barrel seemed to never empty, and after several pints we decided to retreat, having lost the hope of initiating a lucid conversation with the leprechaun. Yet he gave us a bag of gold nto each before we left. Then he and the old woman continued drinking, laughing and remembering te past non-stop until the morrow.

When we got up this morning the only trace that remained of the leprechaun were to bags filled with leaves and a terrible hangover.

The Hermit

Before being attacked by the shape-shifters few weeks ago, we walked through the moors until an old hermit brought us to her cabin, where we’ve been staying since then.

 She is an eccentric woman with odd habits. For some unknown reason she refuses telling us her name, but from the first moment she offered us a shelter and welcomed us as guests. She has provided us with clothes and food and a roof to sleep under. In return, we help her in anything she needs and have fixed some damage in her ramshackle hut.

 Her hospitability is being helpful as we explore new areas of the moors and try to find out how to get our Notebook back.

Threats in the light of a fire

Every night turns colder than the last one here on the moors and more and more unknown creatures are coming by. We know they are there and, even if we can't see most of them, they do can see us.

Last night we were peacefully camping next to an improvised fire when the shapeshifters finally turned up. We believe they were a phooka and a puck. With some mixed feelings of excitement and growing fright we managed to talk to them for a while. That was our first "conversation" with supernatural creatures: an unfriendly conversation full of threats.

Fortunately we were wearing our iron amulets so they could not do us any harm. However they took everything else: our provisions, backpacks... and the Notebook.

Merry Christmas!!

Merry Christmas to everyone from Raul Guerra and Alvaro Herranz!!

Followed by shape-shifters?

As we learned last week, the moor is a place where one can easely get lost due to the presence of many stray sods during the day and will-o'-the-wisps at night. Also, we've seen animals with strange behaviour and a suspicios horse and a goat that have been appearing and desappearing during the last days.

We think that we are being folowed by some kind of shape-shipters...

Walking on circles

It's been a week sice we left the village to the moors and, after months of journey studying different kind of magical creatures, we don't understand how possibly we have been fooled by stray sods.

Remember watching where you step in and, if you feel disoriented, don't forget to turn your clothes inside out!

The Lord of the Hill

Thanks to the help of our new gnome friends, we were able to know in which hill the faeries were supposed to keep the kidnapped baby.

According to our sources, the burning of thorns on top of a faerie hill obligues the faeries to release captive children, so having studied the area during last week, and equiped with different means of protection against faeries, last night we went back to the hill.

At the very moment the smoke started to ascend to the sky, a group of creatures of different shape and size appeared right in front of us, leaded by who might be the Lord of the Hill, who after staring at us with a look of disdain, disappeared again followed by his crew, leaving after them a small nosy bale wrapped in fabrics. Hoping not to raise the wrath of the faeries towards the village, we left an offering of milk, honey and bread in its place.

Now the baby is in the village, safe with his mother . The only problem is how to make him eat human food again.

Help from below

The child is still missing. Everyone in the village have been searching for more than a week already, but no trace of the baby at all, and the bad weather doesn't help.

Today we've been searching in the moors again and, while the mother prays for help from above, we might have found it from below...

The Changeling

We have spent more than two weeks stuck in the village hadrly able to leave the inn due to the bad weather. With the exception of the household brownie who lives in the tavern and steals cookies every night, we've not been able to study other cases of paranormal activity... until today's afternoon.

A weeping woman has entered the inn desesperately asking for us. She was carrying what seemed to be a baby wrapped in a blanket. But it was not.

Faeries have stolen her child.

All Hallows Eve

During this week we have observed the relationship the inhabitants of the village have with the “supernatural”. In spite of not interacting directly with the “magical” creatures very often, they are totally aware of their existence and presence and superstitions are part of their traditions and daily life.

Yesterday night we were invited to celebrate all-hallows-eve with them and we observed a scene we had never imagined to see as we arrived. Every year around these days hundreds of will-o’-the-wisps gather in the moor close to the village and they offer an eerie show for the human observer.

Happy All Hallows Eve!

The Twilight Notebook's team wishes you a spooky All-Hallows-Eve!!

24th October

Yesterday night we came to a small village at the edges of the forest.

We are staying at the only inn of the village. It is also the only tavern and shop in the place, so our presence didn’t pass unnoticed. There was some kind of general expectation because very few outsiders come to this place.

Anyway the villagers seem to be quite kind and after some weeks walking through trees and undergrowth some sleeping under shelter and some human company will be appreciated… Although it seems that they are not the only inhabitants in this little village.

Tyrannofata sp.

This morning we heard some kind of screams, as if something or someone was shouting for help.

When we came to the place they came from it was already too late. The macabre scene left us petrified. An almost unrecognizable creature was lying on the floor, its blood was shedding over the forest. Two winged beings were leaving in silence the place while their victim was lying dead.

It seems that a colony of these fairies are living in an area near from here, where datura bushes are grown.

We decided to name them Tyrannofatas.

It is probably a good idea not to get too close to them.

Glances in the darkness

We are in the middle of Autumn and we keep on with our journey through a thick forest that changes every day. From night to day some mushrooms rise where nothing was to be found the day before. The risk of becoming trapped by a ring of fairies is higher and higher.

As some animals, plants and other creatures vanish, some others take their place when the season falls. We have been observing them from the undergrowth.

Little spots and refulgent stains in the darkness.

Yesterday night we took this picture:

Photographing Faeries

There is a huge variety of opinions about why someone is born with the innate ability of seeing fairies. Anyone who knows where to find it, he will also find hundreds of methods to get this ability of seeing artificially. Some people speak about stone glasses, rituals, four-leaf clovers, mushrooms, primrose petals and altered states of mind.

The art of taking pictures of fairies is on the other hand far much easier. What we have learnt for sure from Miss Moore is that everything comes down to a matter of optics and chemistry.

19th September

As we keep on with our journey, the brief encounters with many little and strange beings tend to occur more often. As the days go by the faeries appear to be more and more curious and confident. They show themselves easily. Maybe they are getting used to us.

Find here some quick sketches we have drawn until today.

Speciofata europsis

We have been trying for a week to find the creature we had pictured recently. For some reason and in spite of the impression (or the certainty) of being constantly surrounded by these beings it seems to be impossible to observe them directly. These are really slick fairies.

The funny thing is that in spite of it all they are quite interested in slipping in our pictures in which they can be seen. Maybe the “problem” is not them, but our eyes.

From the pictures I took, Raúl has drawn some sketches of these strange creatures.

Eyes in the depth of the forest...

We keep on with our journey through a thick forest situated in an indeterminate place in the European geography. We haven’t passed anything with flesh and blood for quite a few days. Just bark and wood.


Since we accidentally bumped into the amphibian maida week ago we haven’t found any clear traces of magical beings, but the strange feeling of being observed overcomes us constantly and for the last two days we know that we are not alone. Someone or something has been rummaging through our bags while we were sleeping. Through all of them but the bag with the iron buckle. It can only mean one single thing: fairies.

While we checked if everything was allright, Raúl accidentally took a picture.

Everything points out that we are indeed not alone.