Of all the fae folk, pixies are the most infuriating. They are infuriating as neighbors, as visitors, and as objects of study. At the same time, they are endlessly fascinating and manage to appear in a great many stories. As someone once observed, pixies are rarely found among the councils of the great, but they might be found hiding in the linen.

Pranks

For pixies, crying “prank” is like calling time out or king’s X. In a prank, all must be forgiven. The fact that humans often refuse to do this is a major reason why pixies dislike humans. Dwarves at least don’t get violently angry. Elves get it, but elves so seldom laugh, it’s not much fun to prank them. Gnomes, on the other hand, are huge fun because they so readily laugh. Sprites because they get mad but they honor the prank and generally won’t kill the prankster.

A prank can be anything. Usually they take a physical form, but pixies have a broad and varying understanding of the term. They might, for example, regard signing that peace treaty as a prank. Humans rarely do business with pixies because they can never be assured of being paid or even of receiving goods purchased. On the other hand, if various stories and tales are to be believed, pixies are wonderful drinking partners.

Pixies are inquisitive. I don’t mean they are merely curious. I mean they are relentless as a four-year-old. Why, why, why. Most infuriating, they don’t do anything with the information. They delight in the question, and view a reply as the basis for asking another question.

Kinds of Pixies

There are many kinds of pixies, each identifying with a particular color. A blue pixie, however, is not necessarily blue (pixies, or at least some, appear to be able to change colors at will—eyes, hair, skin, even tongue). Likewise with red pixies or yellow pixies or what-have-you pixies. A visitor is welcome to ask a pixie their color, but only a fool will believe them. Even so, ethnographers speak of pixie clans by color, mainly because other designations are even less precise.

Despite the wide variations at the superficial level, some general statements can be made about their physical appearance. They are, for example, smaller than dwarves, about the size of sprites, but can range both taller and shorter. They are stockier than sprites (and don’t have wings, of course), with angular features and quick, furtive movements as if being constantly startled. They talk over one another, but often in soft tones so that their speech readily blends in with the sound of a breeze or running water. They can, at need, emit a shriek that can be heard for hundreds of yards.

Pixie Society

Pixies live in small groups that are somewhat family-based but also appear to include non-family members. Those within the unit call one another “my dear” – a term never applied to an outsider, not even to another pixie outside the camp.

Camp is their term for home or town or residence. It’s where the small group currently sleeps. In recent years, ethnographers have been able to track pixies in more detail than was previously possible. These studies show that pixies have at least three types of camps. During migration, they stay in one place only one night. Every so often, however, there is need to stop longer—illness, the need to repair weapons or clothing, and occasionally for no evident reason at all. On these occasions, pixies will stay in one place for several days. Finally, in northern climes in summer, or southern climes in winter, pixies will camp for weeks or even months. They do not necessarily come back to the same quarters; the speculation is that this is done to avoid being found.

Not all pixies are migratory, but no one has been able to discern any long-term patterns. All we really know is that they don’t build towns and that even large settlements can disappear over night.

Pixies are mercurial and sanguine. Wars, or at least some sort of conflict, seem to be eternal with them. These are always between pixie camps, rarely against outsiders. They will, however, go after anyone who does not honor a prank, and vengeance for that can range from uncomfortable to fatal.

“He lies like a pixie” is a common phrase among all peoples, but that misunderstands the people. Pixies simply have no clear line between truth and falsehood. What’s true is what a pixie says. The creature might say “it is night” when it is day, then in the next sentence assert that he stands in daylight. The key point is that the pixie completely and utterly believes each statement in that moment. Even when a prank involves some sort of deception—as they often do—the pixies do not see the deception as a lie. This makes them highly effective liars.

This also is what gives ethnographers and anthropologists an ulcer. Interviewing pixies is hopeless. Observing them is impossible, unless you can manage to sneak up on them, which few have been able to do. There was, with the invention of photography, some hope that modern technology could reveal pixie secrets, but for the most part this only gave us a vast array of obscene and disgusting pixie pics.

Pixie Magic?

No one knows if pixies can do magic or if they are just annoyingly clever. If a prank involves being seen, then they like to be seen in elaborate and memorable ways. If the prank does not involve being seen, pixies can be very nearly invisible. At the same time, though, some of their presentations are astonishingly, even childishly, clumsy. It’s very difficult to tell if the mistakes are intentional or accidental. Certainly there are many reports of pixies doing things that with anyone else would be called magic without hesitation. But when it involves pixies, caution must be the order of the day.

In olden times, pixies were regularly confused with imps. They are of roughly the same appearance, but the differences are significant (see: Imps). The confusion lasted for centuries, however, and became seated deeply in most languages. In popular speech, therefore, the terms are used interchangeably, despite the patient and persistent effort of scholars to point out the dissimilarities. The wise traveler will be wise to learn the difference, though. Call an imp a pixie, or a pixie an imp, and misfortune (at the very least) will dog your every step.