“Hey, Ray-Ray. Tell me more about your family. What do you like to do with them during the Christmas Holidays?”
“…Sleipnir. We’re stuck in the middle of Belgium, hiding in whatever is left of Black Maria as shelter. I highly doubt this is a good time to talk about home.”
“Why not? It’s already near the ending of Christmas Eve. It will be Christmas Day soon. Surely, this is a perfect time to talk about family while we wait for rescue, no?”
Raymond Collishaw sighed, then sneezed.
He rubbed his cold face with his leather glove, which was also cold from both the air and having dug deep into wet snow melting from his body heat. Seeing how the front of his plane’s console was covered in white fluff, he took a moment to sweep it off and threw it aside.
The pilot could be found in a large black Sopwith Triplane, half-buried in the snow somewhere in a clearing of a Belgium Forest. The walls of white powder piled up about meters and meters high, like tiny white zombies dog-piling each other to scale a large wall.
The triple decker wings caved in to make a violent looking crooked V. The propellers were either mangled at a weird angle, or were snapped off from landing. The tail was missing its left rudder while it pointed at an awkward 45 degree angle up to the air like a bent fish tail. A block of snow fell away to reveal its name written in scratched gold: Black Maria.
Raymond Collishaw patted his beloved plane with a desolate sigh. And a slender hand in a black bridal gauntlet reach out to patt him on his shoulder.
“It’s alright, Ray-Ray. You can ask for Santa to get you a new wife~♪.”
“No need. If we get out of here and return back to headquarters, they’ll roll out another Sopwith Triplane for me…although, it pains me to leave behind Black Maria again and repaint the new copy of her.”
“Come now, she won’t mind you falling for another plane girl. Think of it as a blessing she won’t chain you even when she’s gone.”
“…Sleipnir.”
“Yes, yes, yes. That was a bad joke. I almost forgot it was Christmas Day. We should be more positive. We’ll ask your Royal Naval Air Service officers to give you 10 more wives~☆.”
“…………………………………………..”
Raymond Collishaw flinched. A ball of snow fell from the top of his wing deck and landed on his forehead. He brushed the snow out of his face, before he turned to frown at the person sitting in the back seat.
A certain Canadian Witch wearing an elaborate dress made of 1000 feathers, was waving at him.
“BICHUUU!”
“Are you sure you don’t want my jacket. I’m Canadian, so I’m used to the cold. I can withstand the Belgium chill.’
“Nein, nein, nein. I still have my spells and charms to keep my body warm. So long as I don’t move from this spot or make any sudden actions, the passive focus I’ve dedicated in holding a minor Fire Cloak Spell will not dissolve. I’m perfectly warm right—PIKAACHHUUUYYY!”
“…Here.”
“Gichuu…Th-thank you…Sniff.”
The Raven Witch sheepishly took the Pilot’s leather jacket and covered her bare arms and shoulder like a blanket. She tucked her long legs under it as well, like how a hamster would curl up under a warm tissue. Even with her feathery dress, it was completely useless to keep out the cold.
Specks of mystical embers fluttered around her long black silky hair and her neck, a thin fire-like coat protecting her from the sharpness of the cold temperature around her.
“…….Are you sure someone saw your flare gun? It didn’t go up that high.”
“I’m confident someone saw it. We did crash land out of a battle somewhere nearby, no? It’s really comes down as to who will pick us up. People who speak the Queen’s English...or German.”
“…Wh-what do you think will happen to th-this weak looking Witch i-if it was a the latter?”
“I hope you’re not allergic to their dogs.”
“Oh god. The German Shephards have been fighting a lonely war. Th-they’ll definitely destroy my body to sate their primal needs!”
“………………… I was talking about them sniffing you for any weapons or questionable goods in your dress pockets.”
“I-I know, but even your Bloodhounds back at base always have a bad habit of sniffing my @ss! I-I’m not that kind of girl! Nyaaaaah!”
“………………..”
Raymond Collishaw ignored how his partner squealed like a cat from a dangerous thought in her mind. All he did was brush his two gloved hand together, and then rub them onto his 1 mm thin airmen uniform bearing his name, his unit number, and his insignia as a member of the Canadian Expeditionary Forces.
“… You still haven’t answered my question, Ray-Ray.”
“………………………….”
“………R-Ray-Ray? D-did you freeze over!?”
“Yes.”
“Ha-ha. Very funny. Now talk, or I’ll decide to save you from the winter by dumping a fireball spell on you! And be warned, I can make the heat harmless, medium, or super hot as easy as tuning a f**king radio!”
“………..Medium sounds good.”
“Ray-Raaaaaaaaay (TxT).”
“Alright. Alright… After all the hard work you’ve done so far, I guess it’s only right to tell you something.”
Feeling like she had won this battle, the Raven Witch smiled and curled up under the Pilot’s jacket. She looked like a young girl in bed, egging her father to tell her a bed time story by pulling on his ego.
Mom tells a better story than you, that kind of hook-line-and-sinker (#FathersBeware)
“… Well…Every year, I would take my brothers and sisters: Stanley, Cicely, Howard, little Inez, Clyde, and Herb with me to a park near the harbour front. We enjoy throwing around this lid from a round cookie can and toss it around to each other, sometimes trying to slip it under and in between each other's legs as a goal post or try tag someone with it like a game of cops and robbers.”
“………In the snow? At -10 Degrees!?”
“We got bored in throwing it around during summer, so we wanted to challenge ourselves a bit.”
“You seven children are frightening. E-ever heard of building a snowman like a normal boy or girl?”
"Yes, but I had to stop them three years ago as Stanley and Cicely were making rather... crude life-sculptures. Th-they kind of based it on our parents when they uh... walked in on how they made Inez...Yeah, ma and pa would flip out if they saw the finished product so I had no choice but to throw hot water on it to destroy the evidence."
".......................................A....anything else?"
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
“Uh yeah...Um...Right, sometimes we would go down to the Millstone River, and try to fish for some Salmon that are getting ready to spawn their eggs in the winter.”
“Phew. Finally, you’re all normal! Thank you Thor!”
“However, Clyde and Herb would always shove firecrackers up the @sses of sockeye salmon and watch them... well pop."
“RAYMOND COLLISHAW! WHAT THE F**K IS WRONG WITH YOUR CHILDREN!?”
“...Siblings...Mind you, Inez and Cicely were never happy about it. I would always yell at my little brothers for pulling off that stunt. Unfortunately, they would promise this year and break it the next… I ended up not taking anyone to Millstone River...Except Inez, she really liked playing with the salmons in the river, especially the mother fishes...Don't know why she keeps touching them the same way a midwife does when checking a mother's belly...”
“A-at least you’re the sensible one!…Hold up – HOW IS THIS BLOWING OFF THE @SS OF A SALMON RELATED TO CHRISTMAS!?”
“………………………………………………It happens every December.”
“CLARIFY YOUR RESPONSE, MR. CANADIAN ACE!”
The Canadian Pilot smiled as he looked up at his plane’s wings, watching the snow slip and fall off the edge when too much white powder filled the top surface. All the while ignoring the ranting of a shocked and petrified Raven Witch behind him.
“I-I seriously hope you didn’t have a habit of kidnapping ravens and shoving up a giant dragon-boat firework up their arses as a holiday tradition too!”
“No. Of course not.”
“Thank you!”
“I would always catch one with Inez, so we can strap a message onto its leg and send it into the sky. We believed it would make our dreams come true. Like a blowing out all the candles on a birthday cake.”
“……………………………………….I feel violated.”
“What?”
“Ahem. Wh... what did you wish for?”
“World Peace.”
“Sorry to break your bubble, but look at where you’re sitting right now? The Western Front!”
“…Yeah. Maybe using a raven to send a wish message would have the opposite effect… don’t know.”
“Then, what did your little sister wish for?”
“……………………I think she wanted to become the first lady doctor from in our hometown. She even had an eye for the Obstetrician Program at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver.”
“See. Even if your baby sister has higher aspirations than you……What’s Obstetrician?”
“Hmm. I think it was translated as a doctor who specializes in pregnancy and labour.”
“O-oh my god!! May I have her number!?”
“She’s 12 and a half right now.”
“I don’t care. Making a wish with a Raven only applies to us ladies. Now, give me her number!”
“………………….Sh*t. What was our home phone number again?”
“RAYMOND COLLISHAW! YOU’VE BEEN IN OVER 60 MISSIONS AND SHOT DOWN OVER 60 PLANES! ARE YOU TELL ME THAT YOU’VE BEEN IN THIS WAR FOR SO LONG, THAT YOU COMPLETELY FORGOT THE PHONE NUMBER OF YOUR OWN HOUSE!?”
The Canadian Pilot busied himself with clearing the fallen snow from his planes console.
In doing so, the response p*ssed off the Witch. So she lunged at him like a burrow spider to coil her slender arms around his shoulder. From one angle, it looked like an endearing embrace. From another angle.
“GUWOOOOH! C-CAN’T BREAAAATHE! S-SLEIPNIR! Y-YOU’RE STRANGLING MEEEEEE!”
“TELL ME, YOU FLYING BEAGLE HOUND! WHAT IS THE PHONE NUMBER TO YOUR LITTLE SISTER ASPIRING TO BECOME A PREGNANCY DOCTOR!? YOU HAVE ZERO UNDERSTANDING HOW DELICATE A WITCH’S BODY CAN BE WHEN IT COMES TO CHILD BEARING, ESPECIALLY WHEN 90% OF THEIR BLOOD CIRCULATION IS TIED TO THEIR MANA! WHY DO YOU THINK I HAVE TWO MOTHERS!?”
“I-I SERIOUSLY DON’T KNOW HOW TO ANSWER THAT LAST QUESTIOOOOOOOON!”
The Raven Witch didn’t give up on the interrogation and kept throttling her partner around. The Pilot could be found kicking and screaming in his cockpit as he struggled to free himself. 30 minutes later, he could see his vision going dark.
“………..Bichuuu!”
“Gaaaaaag! Y-you almost killed me!?”
“Oh pish-posh. I can’t even snap a twig with my two hands let alone break a man’s neck. You’re lying on all fronts.”
“B-breaking a man’s neck, gasp, isn’t exactly what I was talking about.”
“……………………I’m cold…….So cold……”
“Hmm? You mentioned th-that you couldn’t move too suddenly or else whatever, cough, magic you had to warm you will break. D-did it fail because you grabbed me? Y-you could cast it again, right?”
“Yeah………..You’re right…That…… or I already used up the last of my mana…Any more, and I’ll suffer from internal bleeding.”
“…If you’re already cold with just my jacket…Sleipnir, you--”
“It’s okay…I’ll stay still like this…This time if I don’t move, I’ll really conserve body heat.”
Raymond Collishaw watched the same Raven Witch who interrogated him for the phone number of his young sister who planned on becoming an Obstetrician, going into a slow slump. Somehow whatever fire, vigor, or energy the Witch had left just dissolved.
As if the Belgium cold became a spiritual beast and ate it up in a crazed hunger. Even her eyes, look dulled.
“……S…Sleipnir…”
“I’m fine…I…I feel exhausted… this is what happens when a Witch pushes her limits to the very bottom of her mana tank….I’ll be fine…”
“………………………………….What do you like to do for Christmas?”
“Wh-what?”
“I said, what do you like to do for Christmas… with your two… mothers.”
“……………………………Um…It’s emberassing…….”
“How is it more emberassing than trying to strangle your only hope of escape, just so you could get the business card of his 12.5 year old sister striving to become a doctor?”
“…………………..”
“…Wow. You must be really tired. D-don’t fall asleep or you’ll catch more than a cold. Especially when we're in the middle of Belgium.”
“…………………….I……I like to sing…….. to my mothers… every year.”
“What…do you like to sing to them, Sleipnir?”
Raymond Collishaw had this worried look. The more Sleipnir tried to speak, the less energy she had in her voice. She was trying to get her words out, but both the cold and the lack of her spiritual energy were conflicting each other to the point where her brain was about to shut off.
No good, he thought. If she passed out now, it will be harder to keep her warm long enough until help arrived.
To be on the safe side, Raymond Collishaw rummaged into his emergency bag again and pulled out three canisters with different colored bands. With a pistol like item, he load one canister to it and he would pull the trigger. A vivid red smoke would shoot out from the canister and into the sky.
No sooner did it leave a long trail of red clouds, he fired the other two canisters. Green. And Black. He didn’t care if it send a mixed signal, being stuck out here wasn’t going to help them in surviving.
"...A-as a Gentlemen, I... I'm not comfortable with this, but it can't be helped. Steady now, Sleipnir."
Carefully, he would pull onto the limp body of the Raven Witch and move her over to let her sit on his lap. He held her close, like a cherished doll, and rested her head onto his head.
Somehow, just hearing his beating heart brought some light into her eyes, and she had this weary smile.
“…Thank you…. Darling…. You’re…so warm….....”
“Would you like to sing for me? The song you would sing to your mothers? It… it should be Christmas dawn by now,,, right?”
“…Ha…ha.. Yeah…….. Where should I start.”
“Anywhere you wish…I’m right here. Just say awake, I know help will come.”
“………D……Dashing… through the snow~♪…In a…one horse open sleigh~♪……..Ah, my brain is slowing down.”
“On the fields we go. Laughing all the way~♪.”
“…Ha…ha….ha…B…Bells on Bobcats ring~♪--”
“Bobtails, Sleipnir. It's bobtails.”
“B-bobtails…ring…making spirits b…bright~♪…”
“... O-oh what fun it is to ride and sing, a sleighing song tonight~♪”
“Ha-ha-ha…I-I never knew Ray-Ray…was a singer… sl…sly womanizer…...you...”
“……..Sleipnir. Wake up. Don’t sleep. Just hold on.”
“R...right.……..Jingle Bells~♪………Jingle Bells……jingle…all…….th…..the way~♪… Oh what fun it is… to ride~♪… on a one… h…horse open………………… ………………… …………………… ……………….”
“…Sleipnir?...Sleipnir!!!”
Raymond Collishaw felt this eerie silence around hm and he looked down. The Raven Witch was at her limit, the cold was starting to disorientate her already drained mind. Seeing her eyes flicker open and close, she slowly, slowly slumped into his arms. Her breathing haggard and faint.
The Canadian Pilot could only bite his lip, drawing blood……. Soon, he felt his head swooning from the loss of body heat.
“D*mn it…I-I can’t.. black out yet…I…Sleipnir…”
The Pilot fought off the chill from affecting his mind. Still no matter what he tried, his blood pressure was already dropping. Both bodies will enter a state of hibernation to protect themselves… however as they weren’t bears, such self-defense mechanism will only leave them to freeze over in the open.
“…Th-this…kind of reminds me of…that book I read after c-coming to Belgium……What was it…A…A Dog in Flanders?”
“………………………”
“…I-it’s strange…How the book ended with giving that boy and dog hope when they saw… the open back door to the warm church. They could have escaped the cold and… save themselves… Geeh…but in the end…”
“………………………..”
“Th-they were found frozen on the steps th-the next morning... only shy by two feet from the doors.....A... bitter ending d-don't you think, Sl-Sleipnir?"
Raymond Collishaw tried to keep talking, forcing his brain to continue running to stay away. No good, it was like the days he spent sitting in class and nodding off to the teacher’s droning. For a second, he swore he heard his old school instructor talking to him the complications of physics and gravity. It was the most boring part in his life.
“………….Sleipnir…..if… this is our...ending……If you believe… in something like reincarnation………..l…let’s… be partners again….”
“R…..Ray…………..Ray…………..”
“N…no good…I’m losing...m....an......…….Ah?”
*VRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!*
The Canadian Pilot nodded off – but a loud roaring of an engine snapped him awake for only 10 seconds worth.
With his wavering consciousness, he could see one, no, two, no, five different armored vans rushing into the clearing of the forest he crashed into.
Due to how blurry his eyes were, with all the snow weighing on his eyebrow and lashes, he can’t see who it was. The British? The Germans? French? Austrians? He couldn't tell.
It was until the first van veered to the left, to show the deep red Maple Leaf painted on the side of the armored truck, sporting a series of mounted Colt Model 1914 Machine gun.
“…Ha…ha…Sleipinr…Can you believe it? Our…Christmas Miracle… is the B…Brutinel’s Brigade.”
The Canadian Automobile Machine Gun Brigade, First Division.
The moment Raymond Collishaw saw Canadian Soldiers and several women in both field nurse and nun dresses, he could only smile… and let go of the last thread of his consciousness to sleep at ease.
After saying these small words from his frost covered lips.
“Merry…Christmas…Sleipnir......”