Advent Letter: Year Three, Letter Two

The boys followed Ansa through a meandering woodland path. Bri tapped Matt on the shoulder to show they were heading in the opposite direction of the map’s arrow. Matt ignored him. 

Shielding their eyes, the boys stepped out of the forest and into a meadow. It teemed with poppies and lotus flowers. On the far edge was a castle. It seemed impossible: towers and turrets and bridges jutted out in extravagant excess, at angles that defied physics. Earth physics, at least.

On the banks of the castle’s moat, Ansa stopped and nodded up at the guard house. The drawbridge lowered. Unseen trumpeters blared an entry song so loudly it made Matt nauseous. Inside the entryway was a statue of a lady. The statue drank deeply from a jar of wine. A jar of water laid discarded at her feet. But before Matt could properly look around, a cloud of fragrance hit him in the chest. It was unlike anything Matt had ever smelled: earthy and decadent and sweet. It was so mesmerizing that Matt hardly cared about the lightness in his head, or the fact that he had lost his way in the castle’s winding labyrinth.

The halls led into a grand feasting room. The walls soared up so high Matt could barely see the ceiling. Windows and tapestries and torches lined the edges. The room was already full of people who, like Ansa, were tall and slender and beautiful. Though some had grey hair, none looked old—there wasn’t a wrinkle or bent back among them. All wore bright colors and were singing and dancing and laughing. At the head of the group, in a chair the size of a dinner table, was a Faerie man. He wore an enormous jewelled crown, and was guzzling from a stein the size of a barrel. At Ansa’s entrance, he rose with a belch and strode across the room.

“Daughter!” the man cried, giving her a loud hug. Unlike the other residents, Ansa’s father carried an ample belly. A turkey leg and pint never left his hands.

“I found these out in the woods,” Ansa gestured toward the boys. “They are travellers from the Outerlands.”

The singing and joking stopped. Every Faerie eye turned to the Mellema brothers.

“The Outerlands?” Ansa’s father gaped openly. “There hasn’t been a human visitor to Faerie since...”

“I thought they should stay,” Ansa said. “They could be as great a success as our last visitor.”

Ansa’s father gazed at the Mellema boys, an inscrutable look on his face. Matt was just about to step back when Ansa’s father cried out, “Then what are we waiting for? Everyone, let us welcome the Mellema brothers to our celebration!”

A cheer bellowed from the crowd. Faerie servants led the boys to a large banquet table.

“So what are we celebrating?” Jer asked.

The Faerie servants laughed the question off as irrelevant. They sat the brothers down at the table. Platters of food stretched as far as the boys could see—everything from pork to pheasant to veal, from fruits to cheeses to breads. And every kind of desserts: pies and puddings and chocolates and truffles and candies and tarts. There was so much food that it was tumbling off the platters onto the floor.

“I don’t know about this,” Brian said. The servants piled heaping portion upon heaping portion on his plate. “It’s breakfast time, and these aren’t really breakfast foods, and I—”

“Just eat it.”

Matt said this without looking at Brian. He was staring at Ansa as she conversed with her father.

Music started from the Faerie minstrels. Music that seeped into the deepest parts of Matt’s brain. Matt rested his chin on his palm and gazed at Ansa.

While Matt stared, Brian took a bite of cake. His eyes bulged and he practically shouted, “This is the best cake I’ve ever had! Jer, you have to try this!”

“In a minute,” Jer said. He was eyeing some Faerie men arranging pins for a game. A ball, two mallets, and a catcher’s mitt we’re also involved. Jer had to try it.

While Jer learned the rules from the Faerie players, Bri finished the food on his plate and started piling on more. Matt kept staring at Ansa. This continued for...an hour? Maybe a day...a week? Time didn’t matter. All that mattered were the games and the food and the Faerie girl, and keeping these things going for as long as possible.

When the sun was set and the windows were dark, Matt snapped back to rational thought. Ansa had slipped behind Faerie dancers and out of sight. This was the worst thing that could have happened to Matt. What was the point of anything if Ansa’s face wasn’t in his eyes? Getting up from his seat, Matt bumped into Brian.

“Where did Ansa go?” Matt asked.

“Who? Oh, the girl. I don’t know. Hey, I’m worried I’m running out of stomach space for—uh-oh...” Brian lurched behind his chair. A sliming splash hit the floor, and Matt turned away.

“Nevermind—problem solved.” Brian went back to eating.

“Jer! Have you seen Ansa any...what’s wrong with your feet?”

Jer, who held a ball in one hand and a mallet in the other, ignored Matt completely while he prepared his serve. He took a couple steps forward, tossed the ball in the air, and sliced it toward the pins with his swinging mallet. The pins exploded. Jer danced and cheered with his Faerie teammates. He would have kept doing this if Matt hadn’t pulled him away.

“What? I didn’t see her. My turn again!” Jer raced back to the game, blood trailing from the unnoticed blisters on his feet.

Matt sighed, and reached for a Faerie cake to soothe his nerves. Walking back to his table, he noticed a silver door opened a crack. Matt threw it open. It led to an outside courtyard. At its center was a lake surrounded by silver trees. Spotting a long-haired figure along the far shore, Matt started towards it.

He had barely taken ten steps when something white and feathery leapt in front of him. A swan. And it was attacking him.

Matt rolled and flailed and gasped in a blind panic. He was about to run away when a voice called.

“Stop! For your own sake, stop!”

It was the swan.

“What do you...huh?” Matt stammered.

“You’re from the human world?”

“Yes,” Matt said. “But we’re allowed to be at the castle. Ansa brought us here to—”

“Listen carefully,” the swan said, its neck straining forward. “You and your brothers must leave at once. You are all in grave danger.”