by Cody W Urban
Though his uncle presented himself with love and wisdom, Nicholas rebuked him within, on the grounds that it would mean seeing less of Nysa, if at all. “I see their need, I do. And I thank God for the privilege to be able to give to them. And what if I feel called to give what counsel I can to a lady in distress, Uncle?”
Uncle Nicholas took a moment to ponder his next words, never speaking with condemnation or judgment. “Take my words with love,” he told his nephew, now grasping both of the teen’s shoulders and looking him square in the eyes. “You must meditate your motives. Do you wish to do what is right for the right reasons? Or other reasons?”
******
And what reasons did Nicholas have to argue with Alaric on behalf of mankind when Nicholas had hardly been the shining star example of mankind’s goodness? Nicholas wanted to prove himself right to Alaric, but why? The more he thought, the more he realized it was because deep down he truly believed it. Mankind had betrayed him, and he wanted to prove mankind wrong! What other reason to leave the world of peace and prosperity and enter the realm of cheaters, backstabbers, liars, thieves, adulterers, murderers, and oppressors? Maybe to exact revenge? Yes, also deep down Nicholas was very conflicted. He both wanted revenge against the evil done to him and he wanted to undo all the world’s wickedness. Both a similar end, but his motives were conflicted.
A blue light drifted through the fog-laden, barren city. Ashes and soot filled the streets. He watched what little was left blowing softly in the breeze through desolation. Nicholas sat in the blood-stained robe, his gear packed, staring at the ghost town that was his home. He rubbed his fingers on a piece of mistletoe that hung about his neck with a blank mind, though he tried to calculate his route back to Myra. After the revelation of the Krampus, he was bound to never remove the plant from his person lest he knew that Krampus had become extinct. Mistletoe wasn’t a perfect ward, but the only one around.
To his far left, the last train of departing Elves could be seen, walking sorrowfully slow. Not a single one of them wanted to leave, and many of them glanced a disconcerted sneer toward Nicholas, the outcast who was responsible for drawing nigh the devastation. He wanted to wave farewell, though he didn’t in fear of rebuke. They had become his people and now to them he was but an alien. It left him feeling all the more lost, for as he tried to contemplate his next move he was still afraid that if he was discovered alive, Flavius or Vasilis would surely dispatch him before the scandal could be reported abroad. He was a poor lost lonely fool watching his last few companions leave him to failure or fortune.
However, he wasn’t totally without friends for Nisse and Tomte approached him to bid him farewell when he suspected all had abandoned him. “Some victuals, we brought you, to aid in your long trek,” Tomte said. Nisse handed him, wrapped in cloth, round biscuits and a skin full of milk. With the way the Elves had cured all their foods, they had found a way to ensure one sip could quench a thirst and one bite could quell a hunger for a traveler.
“I thank you,” Nicholas said receiving the present. At first, he was unable to lift his eyes to them in sheer shame of how he had single-handedly brought the rampage upon their village, but after a brief thought he figured he would honor their kindness with a personal expression of gratitude. “It shall be a long road ahead and this will undoubtedly aid me.”
“And must you traverse it?” Nisse chimed in.
“What choice have I?” Nicholas asked.
“Nicholas. Reason with Lord Alaric and I am sure you both can have peace,” Tomte responded seeing Nisse was wrestling emotions and unable to find the right words.
“Nay,” Nicholas replied having allowed the audible word bring more clarity to his thoughts. “I have dwelt here long enough with each day pondering when I should return home. Five years have I hesitated and, alas, it took grave tragedy to spur me into my departure at last.”
“I wish you would not go,” Nisse was able to say.
“And I wish you would see that you have abandoned hope in men. There is a light in them, dimmed by shadows, yet an eclipse does not last—the light can shine again,” Nicholas explained finally reciting the words of his innermost voice. He actually enjoyed letting it come out of him and as it spoke, he was thoroughly, for this moment, convinced by his own words. “And it takes courage and fortitude to fight through the darkness, and all shadows flee in the light. And it is up to each of us, to be generous with our light, to ensure no candle be snuffed out.”
With that, no more could be said. Tomte gave Nicholas a strong hug and Nisse followed in turn adding a warm kiss on the cheek before they broke their fellowship. As Nisse and Tomte trudged away Nicholas caught sight of several other Elves—Boyce, Hugin, Munin, Verean, Ty’Avel, and Azanu—who weren’t fully invested in Alaric’s decree and could find forgiveness of some level for Nicholas. They gave Nicholas a wave farewell and Nicholas returned it. He watched the last of the Elves depart from their realm as snow fell from the sky and for the first time the white blanket of winter had invaded the domain of Mid Alfheim.
2
He sings a love song,
As we go along,
Walking in a winter wonderland.
Alone, cold, lacking temerity, Nicholas traveled the white-blanketed, woodsy landscape, pressing on through a flurry. His red and white robe proved the integrity of its enchantment as it kept Nicholas warm—well, warm enough. He pulled the hood as tightly over his face as possible, but his nose felt as though it could fall like a brittle shard of ice from his face. His cheeks turned red and sore, and he worried his watering eyes would soon freeze over. Having lived in a community of fellowship and camaraderie it was a novelty to find prolonged solitude. He trudged through the snow with only the crunch of each footstep and the howl of the wind to keep him company.
Now this was the second day of his journey. During the two-day period when the Elves packed to evacuate Mid Alfheim and while Nicholas had attended the funeral pyres of the fallen, Tomte had given him some instruction. “I had a dream, Nicholas, to tell you to head due east until you reach the Rhine River. If you keep your direction you will find a stock of Elven rafts for which you can ride along the river up north.”
“North?” Nicholas questioned.
“Trust me,” he said assuringly. “Your destiny lay in Frisia, a land to our northwest.”
Nicholas was wont to cringe at any mention of destiny; however, he was without options. He didn’t know what to expect by Tomte’s prophetic directions, but he trusted him. How he longed to head down south. For the warmth, yes, the Mediterranean was void of such frigid weather, but he was homesick. The Elven realm was his home, and now it was gone. It is a peculiar feeling to leave home, Nicholas had done this a few times now, but the feeling can often be similar to the funeral emotion one gets when one ponders never seeing something or someone cherished ever again. When he left Nysa, it was to return as soon as he could. Leaving Mid Alfheim left him with an empty hole inside, not to mention the death of his friend and mentor. And so he considered forgetting Tomte’s words and turning south, but then he couldn’t help consider what waited for him there. Nysa was surely married happily to a man who could offer her more wealth than Nicholas could if he saved everything for his lifetime. She was sure to be happy with the lying criminal of a Governor as her husband as long has he could maintain his guile as the benevolent lover.
He wanted to be mad at her for giving up on him so easily, but he couldn’t. He was growing to accept that some people could go and fight wars and take lives and deal with calamity and loss and maintain strength and fortitude, and he couldn’t. There were men out there immune to nostalgia and sentimentality, and as long as Nicholas could pretend to be such a stoic person of might—unshakably unemotional—he never could change the fact that he truly cared. And it was because of that, he grieved so heavily for Kenalfon, the annihilation of Mid Alfheim, for the betrayal that brought him to this icy road, and he lamented his loneliness.
“Oh, God. If you are
there, see my plight. I feel as though I were the only person under that cloudy sky, as though I am in a deep dungeon where none could hear my voice,” he prayed. It was a prayer of youthful habits, the kind people can rarely shake for the entirety of their lives. A lifelong tendency that seems to take stronger hold during solitude, for it is easier to feign a desired façade of independence when eyes are present. Among nobody, he was not compelled to pretend to be a strong individual autonomously without need of divine guidance, even if he was mad at that Divine Power.
But what was this? Eyes were present. Seeing two dark black eyes peering at him from the drifts of snow, Nicholas stopped with a shock. Then the eyes moved and into his view came Juno; the gray and white wolf had been following him like a guardian angel. He had only recently traipsed past a row of shrubs that were the furthest reaches of Mid Alfheim’s borders, which marked the furthest Nicholas had traveled in several years. Coming across this wolf was a joy to his sorrowful heart.
He knelt in the snow and opened his arms wide. Juno watched him and tilted her head, pondering what the motion signified. Then he called to her and she leapt up, dashed across the snow, and jumped onto him. Nicholas plopped back on the billowy snow and let his animal friend lick him and sniff him all over as she in turn allowed him to remove his gloves and rub her soft, fuzzy coat. Her fur brought tingles to his fingertips and her warmth inspired refreshed vitality in his bones. Without much reasoning, it was clear this creature wouldn’t scamper away as before. Maybe it was the years of acquaintanceship the two had, the alluring and transforming Elven remedies fed to her, or that she sensed her friend needed her. Either way, now the two of them together were a pack. Nicholas was no longer alone.
3
Later on, we’ll conspire,
As we dream by the fire.
He had just finished the third day of his journey through the frozen wilderness when he finally came upon the Rhine River, flowing like a forlorn snake winding its way through the mountains. The water had too much of a steady flow for the temperatures to freeze it, though the banks were quite frosted and there were plenty of ice chunks traveling up the stream. He felt rather accomplished for having survived the elements for three days, though a shelter was sounding so appealing as of now. Fortunately, Juno had grown accustomed to sleeping curled up next to him, which provided each other with warmth and insulation.
Now he stood gazing upon the river and had a dilemma: where were the boats? Citizens of Mid Alfheim typically traversed this land to visit and trade among the other Elven realms from time to time and kept boats along this river, and surely they were in an inconspicuous spot, either upstream or down. He had tried his best to continue due east, but with overcast skies most of the time and curving hilled terrain, it was impossible to land perfectly in the spot along this river that Tomte had told him about.
If he was bound to travel north, then north he was going to go and hope along the way that the boat was not just a little stroll southward, for his feet were aching and the thought of bundling up on a raft and letting the flow do the work was an exceedingly alluring concept. After a few hours of searching for the boat—he had to keep telling himself it might just be a bit further upstream—there was no sign of any watercraft to be found. Worse, now the sun was setting and he would have to find the raft the next day.
He gathered sticks and carried them to a spot under some low hanging evergreens topped with a pack of snow, like icing on a cake, which provided an adequate roof. He broke off a piece of biscuit and gave it to Juno to enjoy and then dripped some Elvish oil over the moist sticks and just as he was about to strike two pieces of flint together, he heard a dreadful cry. It was a nasally honking bellow that came from some unimaginable animal nearby—and it gave him chills worse than the frigid air.
Nicholas scrambled and ran about to search through the twilight dimness and followed the creature’s cries. He went past trees and rounded boulders where the natural acoustics carried the painful lowing to sound as though it came from multiple directions, and the animal’s noise only intensified with time. Finally, Nicholas came to a place where the Rhine had channeled off some water through a brook and into a frozen pond where he found a large reindeer trapped in the ice.
Its hind legs and half of its torso were completely submerged in what was sure to be painfully freezing water. The pitiable animal was not only feeling the sting of the ice water, but was direly afraid as well and showed it by squirming and bellowing incessantly. Nicholas ran to it set on rescuing the creature, but not sure how. “Hold on!” he told it.
His next step could’ve been his last, but he forced himself to step with caution. After planting his feet firmly on the thick ice on the shore, he reached for the antlers, gripped them and tugged with all he could. Slowly he pulled the beast and was nearly able to draw it out, but he slid forward on the ice and stepped right through it. When it broke more, Nicholas was nearly sucked in, and if that happened, he wasn’t sure what he’d do next.
Juno appeared and hopped around the edge of the pond barking and making noise, clearly upset at the sight before her. As Nicholas struggled with all his might, cracks grew around his boots. He was sure to break through, but he was surely not going to release the reindeer. Suddenly, Juno leapt in and bit the bottom of Nicholas's long robe and tugged hard at it, steadying Nicholas, and the work of all three broke the reindeer free. Knocking Nicholas back, almost onto Juno, the reindeer trotted out from the ice and limped quickly to the shore and fell down—the ice had gashed its hind leg and it bled profusely.
The poor reindeer, exhausted and maimed, a short moment after it fell to the ground, kicked Juno’s natural instincts into action. She flashed her fangs and crouched low to the ground ready to land the kill on the defenseless creature when suddenly Nicholas grappled her and pinned her down. “No, Juno!” he demanded. She looked him in the eye and while the two regarded each other as friends, to her Nicholas was the alpha and his command was law. Time among angelic people had the effect on individuals to grant a greater communion with nature, and Nicholas with a strong look communicated that they did not rescue this reindeer for a feast, but to show kindness. Juno crawled to her feet, took a few steps away, plopped her rear end on the snow, and watched Nicholas. The reindeer shook in fright of the wolf though it was without the stamina to defend itself.
After taking a moment to catch his breath and register the deer’s situation, Nicholas approached with his pouch of herbs in his hand. The reindeer flinched, but allowed him to work on rubbing a green paste over the wound. Then, from another satchel, he fed a palm-full of botanical medication to its mouth. Juno had to sniff it and having overcome her grief about the denied meal, she playfully came over and sniffed about the entire event.
“There now,” Nicholas said kindly petting the reindeer’s neck. “You shall feel aright in no time, fair deer.” He marveled at the wound sealing up and the magnificent brute of an animal made a whiney noise before it rose to its feet and posed majestically. Instantly, a great deal of vigor rose in the restored creature.
“You are free and healed. Be off now,” Nicholas commanded the creature and waved his arms with a gentle motion. Then the reindeer locked eyes with him almost telling Nicholas something. Could this be the same reindeer he had met many years ago by the Danube? The reindeer nestled its nose to Nicholas's chest and he knew he had won over another companion.
Later that night, after Nicholas got the fire going, he sat close to it to dry his hands. Juno proved herself the faithful and indispensable friend as she had not only earlier that day helped him from not succumbing to the same fate as the reindeer, but while he kindled the fire, she had scampered off only to return moments later with two rabbits in her mouth. It was the first meat he had eaten in ages.
His robe was practically waterproof, yet another feature of Elvish charms made to his garment, so it wasn’t long before he felt warm, dry, and cozy among his companions. He looked down and wondered how blood could stain a waterproof ma
terial and figured maybe Elvish blood was a different substance. Or maybe it was there to remind him of things he had learned from Kenalfon. He recalled how alike Kenalfon was to his uncle, both fatherly figures steeped in sagely wisdom, and both saw something in Nicholas he had never seen: a destiny. The more he thought of the destiny each of them saw, the common trait was that he would help people.
It felt like an intangible dream; for most of his life he felt he could barely help himself. He always wanted to help others, and it often backfired. Even helping Nysa led to where she was now married to a vile liar. What if he hadn’t…? No, he cancelled the thought the moment it crept into his mind. Helping Nysa had saved her life.
******
He recalled the orange twilight shining over the tan colored city based against the dell of a great mountain. White birds flew over the head of Young Nysa, perched at the ledge, her toes inching over the brink. Tears poured down her face. She was drained of hope and devoid of perseverance. Her father was to thank for that. Life had little to offer that even hinted at being good, so what meaning had she in remaining among the living. She had given little thought to religious or spiritual affairs, only seldom would she even gaze upon statues of Apollo, the patron deity over Lycia, though she had an inkling that there was something after death. To dwell on Earth meant dying from day one, to spend a lifetime under oppression of all shapes, sizes, colors, or creeds; to eat for energy to work, to work for money to eat, to sleep to work, to work until you fell asleep, was pointless to her. It was mundane meaninglessness and it may be tolerable to some, but the pain inflicted by her father made it unbearable. With every lashing upon her, he struck ignorance from her mind that this world had good in it.
A white feather drifted down the air, falling from a flying bird that just soared over her head and continued on its blissful flight over Patara. She reached up and caught it in a moment of epiphany, when she lost footing and slipped off the ledge. Her heart sank faster than her body and if not for natural instinct to scramble for something to hold onto, she would’ve broken every bone in her body.
