by Pirateaba
Relc sighed. He cracked his knuckles and stared around at the other children, who were already fighting over the presents Klbkch was handing out.
“That was fun. Alright. I’m done. Let’s get a drink, shall we?”
“Indeed.”
They left the bag of presents and fake beard and Santa costumes to be claimed by the excited children and pedestrians. Kblkch and Relc marched the battered [Thieves] to the city jail, talking along the way.
“Do you think that was enough good deeds?”
“I believe so. As we both regularly perform acts in service to the city, we should have accumulated an excess of good deeds this year.”
“Awesome. I wonder what I’ll get from the real Santa-guy. He’ll deliver the presents to Erin’s inn, right?”
“I would like a Dwarf-crafted sword.”
“Ooh, do you think I could get an enchanted spear? I left my old one back with the army.”
“We should ask Erin if Santa has any [Blacksmith] levels.”
“He’s gotta. I mean…presents, right? You can’t just make do with [Craftsman] levels.”
Klbkch was silent. He paused as he thought more concretely about Santa, and the odds of receiving a specialty-made item manufactured across the continent. For the first time, Klbkch questioned Bird’s scattered account of a Human man who rode a sleigh pulled by reindeer that flew.
“…It occurs to me Relc, that this Santa Claus that Erin has spoken of does not exist. The presents may in fact come from other people and are simply attributed to his presence.”
Relc paused. His tail drooped as he suddenly put some obvious pieces together.
“No. You think so?”
“If Santa existed, why has he not given us presents before?”
“Aw…no! I thought maybe it was a Human thing and we were included on his list since Erin knows us!”
Klbkch brightened up.
“That may be true. I did not consider that. Let us ask Erin whether that is the case.”
Unfortunately, both Drake and Antinium found to their disappointment that Santa was a myth. Erin laughed herself off of her chair when she heard what they’d done. But she gave them a huge and hot food, and so the [Guardsmen] felt a bit better by the time the inn closed.
“I guess we’ll get our presents tomorrow. I mean, if anyone’s left any. Doesn’t look like it.”
Relc sighed as he double-checked all of the presents. There were none for him. He sagged, and then turned, pulling something out of the rucksack on his back.
“Hey Klb, I’m ready to go! Klb?”
The Antinium turned. He had something in his hands. A carefully wrapped present, tied with a string of twine. Relc stared at it, and then remembered Klbkch hadn’t brought his presents yet. He stared at the nametag, and saw his name on the tag.
Klbkch looked at Relc. The Drake had a clumsily-wrapped present in his claws, the wrapping already torn a bit. But Klbkch’s name was clearly scrawled on the nametag.
“Oh.”
“Ah.”
The two [Guardsmen] stared at each other. Then Relc laughed, and Klbkch opened his mandibles in a smile. They put their gifts together and walked out the door, side by side.
“Merry Christmas, Relc.”
“Yeah, Merry Christmas, Klb.”
The two sauntered down the hill towards Liscor, talking and chuckling over the events of the day. After a while, Relc frowned and stared back towards the inn.
“You didn’t get me anything creepy or wriggly, did you, Klb?”
“No. Did you get me coal, Relc?”
“No! You’ll like it. I think. Yeah. Probably.”
Klbkch nodded.
“Well then. I shall see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah. I’ll open your crappy gift during the party. At least I know I’ll have one, even if it is icky.”
“Indeed. One is better than none. I shall contain my disappointment.”
“You do that. Later.”
The two parted ways without a second word. They didn’t look back, but both walked with heads held high.
They were smiling.
—-
Late at night, the night before Christmas, hundreds of miles away, the villagers of Riverfarm were about to go to sleep on another miserable, ordinary day that was their life now. But the people who’d been posted sentry raised the alarm, shouting, as they saw something approaching their village in the dark flurrying snow
“Who—who are you? I warn you, we’ve nothing to take! We’re under the protection of [Emperor] Laken! Begone if you mean trouble!”
Farmer Prost shouted as the dark shape ran towards him. He held a sword at the ready with two shaking hands. He’d never had to actually use it to fight; it was a memento from his father. He was about to swing when he saw the red light illuminating the distinct Runner’s Seal held in a gloved hand over Ryoka’s head.
She slowed as she approached the ruined village, taking in the destroyed buildings, the men and women holding weapons, and the frightened children. The villagers of Riverfarm stared as the strange figure pulled away a scarf and hood to reveal a young woman’s face. They hadn’t seen a Runner come all the way to their village in years. Most messages made the final journey via cart or wagon when they went to town.
“I’m a Runner. I’ve got a delivery from Laken.”
Ryoka had to speak several times to make her voice work. She had to say it again for Prost, who was staring at her uncomprehendingly.
“From—you mean from [Emperor] Laken?”
“That’s right.”
Ryoka groaned as she took the bag of holding from her belt. She felt like she was dead. Even with the stamina potions and healing potion, her feet ached, her body felt like it was falling apart, and she was numb. But she was here.
The villagers ushered her into their main living space, the renovated barn, and Ryoka sighed as she saw a fire had been carefully built in the center. She trudged over to it, and tried to set herself on fire to warm up.
“We haven’t had word since he left. We were sure he’d be kept by the storm—but he sent you to tell us he’s alright? Has he bought provisions?”
Prost hovered anxiously by Ryoka. She shook her head.
“No. He sent me to bring you them. Here.”
She handed the bag of holding to Prost. His face fell as he saw it, but then it changed the instant he reached inside. Ryoka, staring at the fire, heard the exclamations but didn’t bother to turn around. She wanted to eat the coals and let them warm her from the inside.
“Food! Dead Gods, there’s so much of it!”
“We’re saved! Praise [Emperor] Laken!”
Ryoka heard the commotion and the weeping. It was a while before she could tear herself away from the fire. But when she did, she saw…people. That was all.
She saw people. Just people, ragged, afraid. There was nothing special about htem; they were just a frightened mass, suddenly relieved because good fortune had come their way. That was what Ryoka told herself.
They believed in an [Emperor], a false leader. Laken wasn’t—they’d put their faith in him blindly, and he’d delivered. But even so—
The man who’s talked to her, Prost, was in tears. He was hugging his wife and what looked like his daughter, tears streaming down his cheeks. Ryoka couldn’t face the raw emotion, the pure relief in his eyes. She looked away and clutched at her heart.
It wasn’t growing three sizes. It just hurt. She’d run hard, that was all. That was all.
They came to her after that, full of gratitude and heartfelt thanks. Ryoka backed away from it all. She didn’t want praise. She’d just—was just a Runner—
There was something in the air. That was it. Ryoka certainly wasn’t moved by a hug from a tearful mother, or a man taking her hand and bowing to her over and over, praising her for braving the storm. It was just a temporary bit of insanity that made her take the bag of holding she owned, the one with the presents Laken had bought, and walk over to the children.
> “Hello there. Have you all been good boys and girls?”
They stared up at her, wide-eyed. Ryoka crouched down as she tried to explain why she was here.
“I’ve got presents, you see. As well as food. Laken—your [Emperor] wanted to make sure you had something nice for the holidays.”
“What holidays, Miss?”
“Christmas. You see, it’s a special day where Laken comes from. On that day, everyone who’s been good gets presents. Who’s been good? I have a present for all of you! For you and you and you…they’re from Santa Claus!”
“Who’s that?”
One of the children asked the question, staring warily at the wrapped gift Ryoka handed him. She smiled.
“Haven’t you heard of the story of Saint Nicholas? Father Christmas? Kris Kringle? Really? Well, he has many names, but I always knew of him as Santa Claus. You see, where I come from, each year Santa Claus gets on his magical sled pulled by flying reindeer and flies around. He flies to every village, every home, every family in every city. And he gives presents to the good kids and coal to the bad ones. He hired me to deliver these presents this year.”
She winked at the adults. They caught on quickly, and smiled and shed some more tears. The children gathered around Ryoka, asking questions.
“Why didn’t he come last year?”
“How come he came this year?”
“Well…he normally doesn’t come out this far. But Laken knows him. He’s a friend of your [Emperor], so Laken got him to give him some presents for you all. Don’t ask more questions. Merry Christmas.”
She had a present for every child, but not all of them came forwards at once. One girl stood back. Ryoka turned to her, trying to give the girl her most sincere, not-scary smile.
“What about you, kid?”
The girl shook her head. She stared at the present in Ryoka’s hands, but then stepped back from it. She looked up at Ryoka with hollow eyes. And when she spoke, she broke Ryoka’s heart.
“I don’t think I’ve been good, Miss. My brother’s dead. He died in the snow and I couldn’t find him.”
“You—what?”
Ryoka paused. The smiles on the faces of the children around her died like dead lightbulbs. The adults fell still.
“It was the avalanche, Miss Runner. I woke up on top of the snow, but my brother—he was right with me when it hit. I dug down and around, but I couldn’t find him. He was right next to me. Right there. Just a few feet to the left. But I didn’t find him until the Emperor dug him up.”
The girl stared up at Ryoka, her eyes staring back through time. There were no tears in her eyes. They’d all fallen long ago.
Ryoka couldn’t get her throat to work at first. She hesitated, and then knelt next to the girl. When she spoke, it was very slowly, very carefully, looking the grief-stricken girl right in the eyes.
“I’m so sorry. It wasn’t your fault. I know you tried—you couldn’t have known. I’m so sorry. But you know what? I—don’t think that means you’re naughty.”
“You don’t?”
“I’m sure. Hey listen—what’s your name?”
“Anabelle, Miss.”
“Well, Anabelle, I think Laken agrees with me. You know why?”
“Why?”
“Because he told me to make sure Anabelle got a present. He told me to make you sure and every kid here got a present, understand? So he doesn’t think you’re naughty. In fact…he told me you might like this one especially.”
Ryoka pulled a present out of the bag and handed it to Anabelle. She took it, and stared down at the neat bow on it, looking lost.
“Why don’t you open it?”
“Are you sure? Did Emperor Laken really say that?”
Anabelle stared up at Ryoka, wanting to believe. And Ryoka lied. She lied straight to the girl’s face, and smiled because it was no lie but the truth.
“I’m sure. Here. Why don’t you open it? Just pull there.”
The girl pulled, and the wrapping fell away and she stared at the little doll, dressed up like an adventurer. Perhaps it was just coincidence that it was male, and it had blonde hair like hers. Or maybe it was magic. Faerie magic? Or just the magic of Christmas.
She began to cry. Ryoka reached out and gingerly hugged her. She whispered to the girl.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. That’s why Santa sent me. That’s why your [Emperor] brought all these presents. Now—why don’t we give you something good to eat?”
Anabelle sobbed into her coat and nodded. Ryoka looked back at the other children. They were teary-eyed as well, but that was fine. There was something important in those tears.
“Who wants to see what else I’ve brought with me?”
Hands rose hesitantly. Ryoka turned, and saw the adults standing, watching her. There was something in their eyes because they kept brushing at them. Hers too. Ryoka let Anabelle cling to her as she handed presents out. And then she had another thought.
“While we’re at it—why don’t I tell you a story? Would you like to hear a story? About Santa Claus?”
Ryoka sat on the straw floor of the barn and saw faeries land on the roof of the barn. She stared at them, but they made the interior of the building shimmer and glow. In every color. The villagers and children gasped, and Ryoka smiled.
“What are you staring at? Didn’t I say Santa was magic? Well, maybe he’s watching you. Now that I think of it…I’ll tell you stories about Santa, too! Did you know one of his reindeer has a red nose? Let me tell you about that. Once upon a time, on a night even snowier than this…”
—-
Later then. So late that it was minutes away from becoming Christmas day, or the day Erin had decided was Christmas. She sat in her inn, her guests long gone, a pile of presents in one corner, and slowly cleared the last table.
“We’re done. Thank you so much for helping, Lyonette.”
“It was—nothing—Erin.”
Lyonette managed to get the words out between jaw-cracking yawns. She and Mrsha were dozing in a chair by the fire.
A single candle lit the room along with the fireplace. Mrsha stared at the flickering flame as it slowly wore down the wax candle. It was hypnotic, soothing. Before she knew it, Lyonette’s eyes were closing.
“You look tired. You should head upstairs.”
“I think Mrsha’s done. But she’s sort of restless. She had too much honey.”
Mrsha was indeed still awake, despite the late hour. She squirmed just a tiny bit, too hyped to sleep, but too tired to move. Erin smiled.
“Well, how shall we put her to bed. Hot milk? That always worked for me, or so my mom said.”
“I think she’s full to bursting. How about a song? I’d sing, but…I’m no [Singer]. Do you have the class?”
“I do, but you don’t have to have a class to sing, Lyonette. Why don’t I teach you some Christmas songs?”
“Oh. Can you? I’ve always liked music. They only sing the same songs in court back home…”
Lyonette sat up slightly, eyes shining. Mrsha perked her ears up too. Erin laughed and settled down in a chair across from them next to the fire.
“Why not. I’ll sing you…a classic song about Christmas. Okay?”
Silence was her only answer. Erin took a deep breath, and thought of the songs she’d heard growing up, when she had to go to the Christmas service at church, and sung by carolers and played on speakers and online as the world changed.
“Silent night, holy night. All is calm, all is bright…”
Her voice was the last thing anyone heard. The snow fell deeper, as across the world the night ended and a new day began. Nothing changed, but it was Christmas. And Erin sang.
“Sleep in heavenly peace. Sleep in heavenly peace…”
Her voice trailed off. Erin looked around and saw Lyonette and Mrsha had already fallen asleep. Erin sighed, glancing upstairs where their beds were waiting.
And she smiled. Just a bit. Erin stood up and found a blan
ket for the slumbering Mrsha and Lyonette. She took down the mistletoe and burned it in the fire. She took out the presents she’d wrapped for Klbkch and Relc and put them with the others. Then she stared out the window.
“Merry Christmas, everyone. To all good sleep. And too all…um. Wait. Oh well. Good night.”
Then she blew out the candle and went to sleep.
3.42
And then…it was Christmas.
Erin was up before dawn again, rubbing at her eyes. She hauled water, helped Lyonette finish cleaning the room—and got food ready.
That was what it was. Food. Erin mechanically created and seasoned a fatty soup with sausage, mushroom, vegetable extract, flour, garlic, a hard-boiled egg…all added to a rye flour and water base that had been mixed several days ago.
Sour soup. It tasted better than described. That was course one. But Erin had far more to do. She fried little dumplings with meat in the center – a Drake favorite food – toasted kebabs in the Gnollish fashion, and finished with some good old Human decadency.
Hamburgers, pizza, popcorn…anything Erin could think of she made. Because she knew she was going to need it all.
Her adventurer guests came and went, eating breakfast, and then lunch. Erin kept cooking, getting ready for the real meal. From time to time she pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and stared at it.
On a delivery. Emergency—a village needs supplies and food. Will try to be back in time for Christmas. Ryoka.
She’d received it from the Mage’s Guild. Erin stared at the paper each time, and then carefully folded it away. Each time the door opened she looked up hopefully. But it was never Ryoka. And eventually, Erin stopped looking for her. She had a job to do.
They began coming in at noon. First Relc, rubbing his hands and exclaiming with delight as he saw two presents with his name on it. Then Selys and Krshia and to Erin’s delight, a tired Brunkr. His arm was bandaged and cleaned and he managed to smile at her.
At some point, the door to Celum opened and Octavia fell through. She slept on the floor. After a while Jasi, Wesle, and the [Actors] came through, along with Maran and Safry. Miss Agnes was not there, but Grev darted in as well and stepped on Octavia’s head, waking her up.