Advent Letters: Year Eight, Letter Two

Jer and Matt’s eyes locked on Brian as he slowly removed Santa’s present from his satchel. The package glowed like a lantern from beneath its crimson wrapping paper.

The time must be right to open it.

Brian’s older brothers crowded around as he ripped open the paper and removed the lid. Brian lifted the gift out of the box.

All three brothers frowned.

Brian wasn’t sure what he’d expected—a pair of wings? A jet pack? But either way, this wasn’t it.

The present was a brass cube about the size of a Nintendo console. In the center was a single diamond.

Face scrunched, Brian held out the cube to his brothers. They only squinted and shrugged.

“Wait a second,” Matt said. “Is that writing on the bottom?”

Brian turned the cube over. He was still learning to read, and the letters were engraved in cursive. But slowly, he sounded out two words:

“Stand. Fast.”

The instant Brian said this, the cube started to shake. Steam poured from the center, and the cube itself rose into the air in a loud whirling. Hidden seams unfolded and expanded. Soon, a circular brass platform the size of a dining room table lowered back to the ground. Beneath the platform were propellers that looked like they were from drones. But because this was before drones, Brian thought they looked like miniature helicopter propellers.

“Amazing,” Jer said. He ran his hand along the platform’s smooth surface.

“Is it—I mean are we really supposed to…” Matt’s eyes darted between the slender platform and the vast canyon.

Brian climbed up onto the platform. His brothers shrugged and followed. The circular surface had no railing and no edges. At the center was a post which was shaped like a ship’s anchor. The diamond sat on top.

The brothers slowly raised themselves to their feet. On the platform’s surface, three circles formed the points of a triangle. Once circle was blue, one green, and the other red. Instinctively, each boy stepped onto the circle that matched their tunic: Matt on blue, Jer on green, and Brian on red. The instant they did, all three circles glowed. The diamond turned a brilliant shining white, rose in the air, then shot across the canyon. It settled like a beacon on the other side. 

“I guess that’s where we’re going?” Matt said.

At that same moment, the anchor spun in place. It shot something long and glowing toward each boy. Looking down, Brian saw it attached to his tunic. It was somewhere between a rope and a wire, and was glowing a vibrant red. When Brian tried tugging the line, it stayed attached.

The propellers whorled, and the platform rose into the air. Before any of the boys could object or even think, it started across the bottomless canyon.

As the canyon’s edge gave way to the fathomless mist below, Brian’s first instinct was to freeze. His legs locked and his back stiffened and he fought the urge to close his eyes.

“Wish this thing had a railing,” Matt grumbled.

“At least we have these glowing tether things,” Jer said.

“But are we sure they’ll hold us?” Matt replied. He lifted up his thin line, stuck mysteriously to his tunic.

Seconds slunk by. The mist grew thicker as the platform sailed further over the canyon. Brian was just about to comment how, all things considered, this wasn’t too bad. They just had to stand firm in the protective fog and wait to reach the other side.

That’s when the noises started.

At first, Brian thought it was the rumbling of a river far below. But as it grew louder, it grew into an angrier sound. Angrier and more distinct. Like a sharp hissing, a loud squawking. A lot of angry creatures.

Worse than the sound itself was its source—all around in every direction.

“Some flock of…birds?” Matt ventured. His eyes had grown huge.

“Whatever it is, I don’t like it,” Jer said. 

Jer grabbed his enchanted bow and notched an enchanted arrow. Matt raised his enchanted shield and drew his enchanted sword. 

Only Brian hesitated to draw his enchanted weapon. His warhammer could magically grow to whatever size he wanted. But he was on a delicately-balanced platform and anchored by a thin line. He didn’t want a giant hammer to throw off the balance. So he kept the hammer its standard size. To be safe.

The brothers scanned the mist as the sounds grew louder and louder. Soon, it was so loud the brothers had to shout to hear each other. Long shadows darted along the edges of the clouds.

“I really hope it’s not birds,” Matt muttered. He raised his shield nearly to his eyes.

After building their clamor to a crescendo, the mystery creatures went silent. Dead silent. For a charged moment, the only sounds were the gentle whir of the platform and the boys’ own ragged breathing.

A dark flash of claws and feathers, a flap of air, and Matt’s cry of alarm.

“What happened?” Jer hissed.

“Hit my shield. Some kind of bird,” Matt said, his voice tightening.

“Look!” Brian pointed to the anchor. Slamming into Matt’s shield had stunned the creature, which was sprawled out at the base. It was a bird, but a monstrous one. It was about the size of a crane, with the body shape of an ibis. Its beak, however, was sturdy and sharp, and looked made of bronze. Its feathers had a metallic gleam. When the brothers later learned world mythology in school, they recognized these creatures as the Stymphalian birds which terrorized ancient Greece.

With the handle of his hammer, Brian shoved the bird over the platform.

“Why did it have to be birds?” Matt groaned. 

Another flash of wings. Then another. And another. Soon, all three brothers were desperately fighting a charge of dark-streaking birds. Jer fired arrow after arrow as fast as he could. Brian swung his hammer in front of him in furious figure-eights.

And Matt, well…here’s the thing. If your Uncle Matt were writing this, he’d want me to remind you kids of something. He has a fear of birds. Like, a clinical phobia. It’s a disease, really. Birds cause Matt’s heart rate to quicken, his breathing to grow shallow, and for blinding, unrelenting panic to overtake his better judgment.

I say this to explain what Matt did as soon as the Stymphalian birds started attacking. He ducked beneath his shield and fell to the ground.

“Get up, Matt!” Jer shouted. “Fight them off!”

Matt only curled into a ball and rolled toward the center of the platform. In fact, he rolled clear off his blue circle. A few moments later, his circle stopped glowing. And the instant it did, the entire platform started slowing to a stop.

The boys were hanging motionless in the air.

“What happened?” Jer cried. His arms were already numb from shooting so many arrows.

“We all need to be standing on our circles!” Brian replied. He shoved his hammer directly into a charging bird as he spoke.

“Matt, you have to stand on your circle—otherwise we’re stuck here forever!” Jer shouted.

Matt was still curled up beneath his shield. But even as the panic gripped his brain, his brother’s words seeped through. The only way to make this nightmare end was to stand up. With a monumental effort, Matt ignored his brain stem and rose to his feet. He stepped onto the blue circle, which again glowed blue. With a whir of propellers, the platform charged forward.

“Much better,” Jer said. He shot a couple more birds out of the air. Matt started slashing through birds with a newly-crazed ferocity. Brian, meanwhile, kept swinging his hammer in larger and larger figure eights.

 “Careful, Brian!” Jer shouted. “If the hammer gets too big it’ll throw off the platform’s balance!”

“There are way more birds on my side,” Brian shot back. “Can’t you help me?”

“Not without shooting across both of us,” Matt said.

Jer stood for a moment as Brian tilted the platform swinging at the swarm of birds.  

“Fine, I’ll do it,” Jer said at last. With the exasperated sigh of the older brother, he stepped off his green circle toward Brian. For a few moments, it looked like Jer’s plan was working—he and Brian together mowed through the swarm.

For a while, this worked. In fact, for a brief moment, all the birds on Brian’s side were cleared.

“That’s enough,” Matt called. “Get back to the—”

Jer’s circle stopped glowing, and the platform again slowed to a stop. The birds took advantage, attacking the brothers from all directions all at once. Matt hoped his shield hid the abject terror in his eyes.

Swinging his bow wildly, Jer fought his way back to his spot. The circle lit up green, and the platform lurched forward away from the birds.

The boys, bleeding and sweating and (in Matt’s case) traumatized for years, watched the Stymphalian birds gather into one great swarm.

“What are we going to do?” Jer asked.

Brian chose his response carefully. “There’s only one thing we can do,” he said. “Stand fast.”

Jer and Matt both opened their mouths. But instead of asking questions, they both nodded. They set their feet firmly in their circles. 

And waited.