David Russell Mosley

Advent
Christmas Day 2016
The Edge of Elfland
Hudson, New Hampshire

Dear Readers,

It was dark. The snow covered the ground and was still falling. The wind caused the snowflakes to flit about. If Arthur Elwood hadn’t been so tired and the air so cold, he might have thought it beautiful. Instead, he trudged onward, head down, hat pulled down tightly. Somewhere nearby a bird cawed. Arthur looked for the source. A large, black bird made a stark contrast on the snow covered trees. “Is that a crow?” said Arthur to himself. Before he could decide the bird opened its beak again. Instead of a caw, the bird spoke. “Sidhe” it shrieked. “Sidhe, Sidhe! Ban Sidhe.” The voice was unearthly, Arthur thought. He began to shake as the raven continued to shriek, “Sidhe! Ban Sidhe!” Now quite frightened, Arthur continued to walk toward the forest. Suddenly, an otherworldly wail rang above the winds.

The dreams began just over two weeks prior, on the feast of St. Nicholas. Arthur had come home from his parish, St. Christopher’s, after their Mass for St. Nicholas. He had no children of his own, but he enjoyed seeing the child bishop and the children receiving their chocolate coins. After a rather heavy lunch, Arthur had lain down on his couch––the logs in his fireplace crackling––to read, but the soporific effects of feast carried him off to sleep. In his sleep, Arthur began to dream. He was in a wood, the ground and trees covered in snow. Every tree seemed to have a dozen or more black birds, much larger than any birds Arthur normally encountered. The birds made no noise, and yet Arthur was certain he heard something. He walked further into the trees and could just discern the sound of a woman screaming. He began to run after the sound. As he did so, the woman’s scream increased in volume and otherworldliness. It was clearly a human voice, or something close enough to human, but he could not make out what it was saying. He simply heard the wail and tried to find the woman making it. The wail had an unusual effect on him. It made him feel, almost brave. But no, not brave, rather as though he must find and rescue the screamer, no matter the cost time. As he ran in the woods and the wail grew louder, the trees grew denser, and the night colder, Arthur thought he could a light, as if from a lantern burning in the distance. Its light seemed to be coming from the same direction as the scream so he ran after it.

He shouted, “You there! Are you all right? What’s wrong? Can I help you?” He heard the woman scream, “Help me! Arthur Elwood, please, help me!” and so he ran on. In an instant, just as the light appeared closes, he was surrounded by the birds. They began to peck at his flesh, tearing into him. Then, as one, the dug their talons into him and began to carry him off. The clouds in the sky cleared and the moon was full. The carried him high into the sky, and with a loud shriek, they dropped him. At this point he awoke in a cold sweat, panting. The fire had burnt low. It was morning.

He continued to have the same dream night after night. When the first week was over, he began to obsess. Who was the woman wailing? Why was she wailing? One night he thought he actually caught sight of the woman. She was beautiful. He longed to know what caused her to wail. Even the wail itself began to change him. It incited his pity. At first it might have been his gallantry that made him long to aid the wailing woman. Now it was an obsession. He must know why. Why did she wail? And what could he do about it? What did these dreams mean?

As the days passed Arthur became more and more withdrawn. He called off work, told his friends he was busy, and his neighbors never saw him leave the house. The shades to his windows were always drawn, and no one saw any light come from his house. He spent those hours either attempting to sleep, and so re-enter that dream, or going over books and maps looking for the forest he continued to enter in his dreams. “I’m sure I’ve been there,” he muttered to himself. It was not until late on December 23, in truth it was early in the morning on Christmas Eve, that Arthur finally found what he was looking for. The forest was only a few miles out of town. “She’s close.”