Nicholas- the Fantastic Origin of Santa Claus

by Cody W Urban

  “What was in it?”

  “Heaven forbid that I spoil it!” she replied with a chortle. “Destiny isn’t set in stone. One can receive a prophecy that they will be a great archer some day, but that day may delay should they never lift a bow. The prophecy is supposed to strengthen you and encourage you for when you do grab that bow.”

  “You still believe I am your foretold hero?” Nicholas asked, slumping down upon his cot.

  “Undoing evil wrought west to east, to vanquish poverty south to north,” Nisse said looking around the room in her merry dancing way. “As long as the warrior priest would ride, the night of nights shall never in memory fade. And children of men find hope to guide upon a golden path angels laid.”

  “I know, I know. I am a crimson-clad rider. I get it. It sort of happened that way,” he said in protest. “Yet how can I bring peace on earth? I let Nysa down. I let Pete down!”

  “Nicholas,” Nisse said as she sat beside him. “The foolish young boy who ran away from home to fight battles and be a hero is still talking inside of you. Sometimes I see the man you are going to become already in your eyes and sometimes I hear him talk. Other times I hear that scared boy, running from destiny. Shut him up!” Nicholas looked up at her, startled by her declaration. “Shut that runt up and take charge. Mistakes have been made and I know you are afraid. Your foes are strong and your doubts cloud your thinking. Stand up, take hold of that destiny and claim it as yours. Do not just float down the river of destiny. Fie! Swim with the current! Even better, get a boat and sail down it at an even quicker rate!”

  A chill ran along his arms and down his spine. But it was a different kind of chill than the icy kind you get when your mind takes hold of your body and you convince yourself you’re being followed by some ogrish beast. This kind of chill stole his breath. This kind of chill inspired all knowledge and truth to the forefront of the mind so that the clarity energized him for action. Truly he had finally conceded to not fight the current of destiny, but never had he heard it put to him to swim with it. He suddenly felt a great impetus to stand up and do just as she had said. “You are right, Nisse!” he declared as he stood up. He grabbed his sword and sheathed it, threw his bow over his shoulders, and said, “I will silence that little boy. I’m tired of being afraid. Though I have feared that the evil in this world is too great an enemy—that will not stop me.”

  “Good!” Tomte said, revealing his presence in the doorway. “Because we have finally made ourselves ready to work with the snow. Tonight we can ride to our appointed destinations with the toys and by nightfall tomorrow, we will be ready to fight evil with an act of goodness! Come quickly! I want to show you how we’ve fixed the problem.”

  2

  For hate is strong and mocks the song,

  Of peace on Earth, good will to men.

  On the night of December twenty-third, Nicholas stepped outside of his church and saw a large toboggan crafted by his Elven cohorts. Boyce stood in the driver’s seat with an enthusiastic smile on his face and hopped down. “Marry! What thinks ye?” Boyce asked with glee.

  “I am astonished,” Nicholas said, marveling at their craftsmanship. “What do you call it?”

  “It is a sleigh!” Hugin said directly. “Without wheels you shall not be trapped in morass or slush.”

  Nicholas stepped in and examined the design and then turned to Tomte and said, “This’ll do.” With that, all eight Elves walked their reindeer out and mounted them. Nicholas mounted Sleipnir and addressed the rank of his partners in his gift-giving enterprise. To his left, the sun was setting and the sky was still partially cloudy, glowing in dazzling pink and orange hues. The world around him was all washed out under the snow but the sunset tones glistened over the previously green rolling hills. Bedros and Matthias fixed the sleigh to a donkey behind them, not sure if they were to attend Nicholas’s parting speech.

  “Bedros, Matthias, please come here,” Nicholas beckoned. When they saw this they looked blissful in the inclusion as they walked over and stood beside the reindeer and Elves. “You two have been ever so loyal despite these strange times. I need one more favor. Bring this sleigh to the southern-most bank of the Baraji Mountain. There we will all converge before I ride the sleigh through Vasilis’ gates.”

  “Aye, Nicholas,” Matthias said with a gleam of pride. “It shall be as you said. There you will find it tomorrow night.”

  “Thank you,” Nicholas said.

  “No,” Bedros replied. “Thank you, Father Nicholas. Tomorrow we celebrate Christ’s Mass, the commemoration of the Nativity. On the same night, you will give the gift of hope to the children of the world.”

  “Well, not the world, rather Lycia,” Nicholas interjected.

  “For now,” said Matthias. “But one day this shall touch the entire world. I must add, to send you off, my prayer over you.” Nicholas nodded and allowed Matthias to proceed. “Lord, we ask your favor upon them to humble the proud and mighty, to crumble the wicked. As it is written: ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men whom his favor rests. His soldiers are red, the warriors are clad in scarlet. The chariots storm through the streets, rushing back and forth. They look like flaming torches; they dart about like lightning.’ Let these warriors of yours do your bidding in this quest. Amen.”

  “Where is that written?” Nicholas asked, amazed of the prophetic words.

  “The Scriptures,” Bedros replied with a chuckle, knowing that he recited the Prophet Nahum from the Tanakh. “You are a bishop and do you not know this?” Bedros teased.

  Nicholas smiled, soaking in the words, then replied, “I will have to read it more diligently whence I return.”

  “Aye, Nicholas,” said Nisse. “This was foretold to happen. You were predicted to champion this cause. Now, you will choose to make it happen. The choice is yours.”

  Nicholas trotted forward and turned to face his friends as the sun dropped further below the horizon. “Truly I do choose it with all my being. I feel a legend shall spread of this night, of Nicholas and his Elven friends who risked all to preserve a spark of goodness in this dim world. Let this legend end with success. That hope, peace, and joy was brought to sons and daughters of men. The hate in this world is strong, but not strong enough. No darkness can ever quell the light of hope!”

  The Elves chanted a triumphant cheer in reply, declaring victory over their mission, proclaiming peace on earth. “Scarlet Riders! Let us fly!” With that, Nicholas turned his steed and gave a “Yah!” that kicked Sleipnir into full speed. The Riders took off galloping just behind him and they drove out over the snow-covered plains. One broke away, then another, and another, until all went their separate ways, to nine different towns on the outskirts of the Lycian borders.

  They would ride through the night; veiled in darkness as the stars and moon were blotted by the clouds. Once they reached their appointed destinations, they slept through the day and waited for the night of December twenty-fourth.

  3

  And the bells are ringing,

  Like a choir they’re singing.

  At the setting of the sun on December twenty-fourth, nine Scarlet Riders drove out from their designated places and began the task of giving out gifts. It was similar to every other ride Nicholas had done to donate to the people, but this time as he bounced upon Sleipnir’s back and the wind nearly blew his hood from his face, he rode in prayer. Finally he had come to the yielding point to seek higher power; in fact he felt he was doing the will of that higher power and by continuous prayer was maintaining an element of alignment with His will. It kept his eyes sharp, his wits focused, and his heart clear of the doubts that had blocked his inner voice beneath a layer of frost for several years.

  As Nicholas rode into the town of Sidymae in the far west, he found the welcoming sight of the citizens lined up in the streets holding out their stockings in one hand and the lump of coal in the other. “Scarlet Rider! Scarlet Rider!” the children called out to him gleefully as he approached.
He finally stopped and began depositing a single toy into each stocking and then dropped another sack. “If you will, please place your coal in this bag!” Nicholas requested and the citizens were far eager to do so. It wasn’t a very large town and it wasn’t long until he was able to swap each piece of coal with a brand new toy. “Peace unto you all! And to all a good night!” Nicholas declared as he rode off.

  The throng of townsfolk rushed to the end of their outskirts cheering and waving him off. Then a young boy ran to the town center shouting to the elder stationed by a bell, “Ring the bell! Ring the bell! He has come and we all have a new toy!”

  The elder smiled warmly, grabbed the rope, and pulled hard on it. The hollow metal tolled at the clashing between the bronze weight and exterior. The ringing pealed out in the night to be heard near and far that the Scarlet Rider had come.

  As Nicholas rode from the town he dashed back and forth to farms and homes on the outskirts finding people who never received the message to be ready for his coming. Nicholas wouldn’t take the time this night to sneak into the homes, but would make a quick entrance. As the local ringing bell roused the parents, Nicholas walked through the front door, found the coal and left a toy in its place.

  This process was repeated for homes all in the region until he came to Patara. He had chosen this route mostly for sentimental reasons and found this time not a soul outside their homes. It was an interesting spectacle to see a place he was very familiar with appear nearly unrecognizable under the layer of snow. At the first homestead he came to he walked through the front door and found the home vacant and dark. As he looked around he heard a slight scuffle within a closet and wisely chose to announce himself before opening it.

  “Hello! This is the Scarlet Rider!” he declared and then the door opened slightly and out poked the head of a teenage boy with eyes of fear and wonder.

  “I am glad it is you, sir. I feared you were some imp coming for us,” he said. Then he stepped out holding a large knife; his little sister and frightened mother came out right behind him.

  “Imps? Have they been sighted recently?” Nicholas asked.

  “Aye, good sir,” said the mother. “A handful of them. They’ve set the whole town to hide inside.”

  “That is why you weren’t ready for me,” Nicholas thought aloud. “Where is the coal?”

  “Here,” said the little girl as she held up two pieces. Nicholas shuddered in the dreadful notion that he failed to inform anyone about how this black rock attracted the Krampus and now everyone was hiding while clutching their bait. Before he could think long on it, through the window smashed a large, angry-looking Krampus jumped through. It looked at Nicholas, then the coal, then the children and charged for them.

  Nicholas flipped over a table and rammed it into the fiend pushing it back out the window. He grabbed the coal and dropped two toys for the youngsters, drew his sword, and dashed outside. There he saw another Krampus perched upon a rooftop. He had to shoot an arrow through it before he could attend to the one he previously struck. He fought it off with his sword while extending the Krampus-bane, mistletoe, until it ran away in the hours of darkness. Nicholas sighed and then took off in a sprint, with Sleipnir riding shortly behind. He knew he would have an even harder time doing this job with the foul beasts in his way, but he hoped they wouldn’t cross paths for most of the night. The more coal he carried, the thicker the vile storm.

  4

  Then rang the bells more loud and deep,

  God is not dead nor does He sleep.

  For the most part, every Rider had an unproblematic easygoing first run through a town. But as their sacks were filling with coal, the more the Krampus were able to trace them. They rode hard over hill and dale, crossed rivers and rounded the mountains going from town to town. Everywhere they went after their first destinations the Krampus stood all the more in their way, regardless of the mistletoe repellent. Nothing could fully ward them off that night, for Vasilis and Ru’Kas had given them the strict command to kill the Scarlet Rider and return to them with as many children as they could carry.

  From his high balcony in his castle near Kale, at the southern coast of Lycia, Vasilis and his shrouded colleague stared out at the cities of their nation. As one bell tolled in the distance, Vasilis frowned but did not dismay. He had legions of his minions spread about the country and the more the Rider traveled, he knew he was driving further and further into peril. He and his partner had conjured up the flurry and had launched a full-scale assault upon their enemy. He discerned unwaveringly that this night he would finally be rid of the ruby nuisance.

  But just then another bell chimed in the dark distance. Though it was faint, it was discernable enough to know it came from another town of a different direction. He recognized his foe was crafty and swift, but this made him doubt just how mortal and unmagical he was. For there was no way his threatening opponent could accomplish this feat without some supernatural involvement. To his aversion he was forced to rely on the Krampus—as much as he loathed them, they were the means to his end.

  Below he caught sight of the magistrate galloping up on the bridge toward his castle. He rode accompanied by armed soldiers and Orestes Pancras. They halted their approach before the gate and the magistrate looked up and saw Vasilis. “Many a bell I have heard peal! ‘Tis clear for whom they toll.”

  Vasilis looked behind him and found that Ru’Kas had slunk away into the shadows, and Vasilis feigned optimism toward his guests. “Verily, I have only heard two chimes! Lest by some deceptive hoax there could not possibly ring more.”

  “I wouldn’t be too sanguine, Governor. Your rule is at stake here, and the posterity of Roman officials. I have heard report of yonder cities, beyond reach of our ears, striking their bells also,” the magistrate informed him. “Now, will ye not let us enter your keep anon to discuss how too much wine leads to rash decisions?”

  Vasilis perked up to hearing the magistrate demonstrate remorse for implementing the wager. “Forsooth you will not enforce this charade should, in the unlikely case, that burgundy ingrate actually succeed,” Vasilis laughed.

  “Nary a juncture when so lofty a gamble has been presented before me. Should we not realize the fruition of our end of the bargain, we dare paint an ill light over the glory of the empire we represent,” the magistrate explained, growing annoyed at straining his neck to look upward upon the one whom he had authority over. “Verily, we will uphold the wager. Now, will ye let me enter?”

  Against all intuition and reason, a sound broke forth through the darkness. They all gazed out toward the distant firelights glowing where the nearest cities could be seen and they heard yet another bell chime brightly in the night.

  5

  The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,

  For peace on Earth, good will to men.

  Every rider had their hands full of obstacles for the entirety of their mission. It seemed that hordes of Krampus lurked in waiting around every corner that were barely outrun by the speed of the nimble reindeer. When Nicholas finally came to Kyneae, on the northern side of the Xanthos River, he found another town outside eagerly expecting his arrival. He jumped from Sleipnir and went to fill their ready hands as quickly as possible. “Have you not seen the Krampus tonight?”

  “What are Krampus?” asked an aged grandfather at the side of his little granddaughter as she dropped her coal into Nicholas’s bag.

  Before Nicholas could respond, a loud shriek filled terror in the sky behind them and they turned to see a mother tripping to drag her children away from the last building on the boulevard of the town square where a horde of Krampus marched, swinging barbed chains and wielding spiked clubs. “Those—those are Krampus,” the Rider replied. Nicholas jumped back onto Sleipnir and he reared up on his hind legs to intimidate the foes before him. “Be off, ye foul demons! Let these people alone! Depart here and never return.”

  As Nicholas moved to charge at them a large rock flew past his head, coming from behind, and
struck the front Krampus square between the eyes. It buckled back, growling and holding its throbbing skull. Nicholas turned and saw the entire outraged town holding pitchforks, axes, wooden clubs, and stones ready to make war.

  “Get ye away from here!” shouted an indignant fellow. “Leave the Scarlet Rider alone! He has come to bring decency to our children! Any who stand in his way must reckon with us!” Then the mob of townsfolk charged at the Krampus and engaged them in a brawl.

  “Rider, take the coal! Move on with your mission! We will hold them!” shouted the aged grandfather. Nicholas nodded at the man and then filled their hands with toys and filled his sack with their coal. While the mob fought against the Krampus, Nicholas rode out of the town. As he expected, the Krampus lost all interest in the townspeople and pushed past them to charge after Nicholas, drawn toward the coal.

  Nicholas rode eastbound along the ravine of the Xanthos River where he saw on a hill to his left the silhouette under the moonlight of another rider trailed by another host of Krampus. Nicholas veered to intercept the rider and came galloping right alongside Verean. “Nicholas!” she said panting for breath. “I have done well with my route, yet they press upon me ever harder with each city I reach!” she said with trembling in her voice.

  “Mistletoe wasn’t enough of a ward this night. A greater command they obey,” Nicholas reasoned as he formed a plan. “Hand me your coal. I will bank south and draw them hither.”

  “Ye put yourself at their mercy, which they have not!”

  “Trust me, Verean,” he said and held out his hand. She pushed her sack over her lap into his hand and Nicholas slung it over his shoulder. Already it was a burden, but now holding two bags made it very tiresome. “Head toward your next town, I will meet you at the rendezvous!”