🎅 NOTIFICATION: Santa has been trapped.

❄ ❅ ❆ ❄ ❅

🎅 NOTIFICATION: The Quest [mysterious tower – part 2] Has failed!

❄ ❅ ❆ ❄ ❅

Santa lay trapped beneath hundreds of pounds of rubble, clutching his sack, shrouded in utter darkness. Lost in the disorienting abyss, time seemed to slip through his grasp, leaving him unsure of which way was up or down. After what seemed an eternity, exhaustion finally claimed him.

Santa somehow found himself plunged in a perfect dream. He was back at his cozy home, surrounded by his cheerful elves, who had gathered around the old dinner table adorned with a spread of holiday delights by the warm fire. At the heart of the scene stood Mrs. Claus, diligently serving generous slices of pudding to each and every one of them, while the sweet melodies of a carol filled the air. The dream radiated warmth and an irresistible sense of coziness, and amidst it all, he could distinctly hear his wife's tender voice, gently reassuring him that it was perfectly alright to rest, to let go.

Santa smiled; his heart warmed by the presence of those he cherished the most. These were the faces he had sworn to protect, the very reason he carried the weight of Christmas on his shoulders.

As Santa basked in the warm embrace of his family, a strange sensation tugged at the corner of his eye. It was like an annoying itch, and he couldn't help but reach out to flick away the mild annoyance. But as he scratched at the irritation, the dream's warmth began to wane, and an eerie sensation rippled through the scene.

The soft echoing sound of chains reverberated against the walls, casting a chilling shadow over the walls. In an instant, the perfect scene unravelled before his eyes. Mrs. Claus, the very heart of the dream, vanished into thin air, leaving behind an empty space at the centre of the table.

The once-merry elves lost the colour in their cheeks and toppled over, their faces plunging into their festive feast, their joyous laughter cut short. Simultaneously, the cheerful music that had once filled the air with joy came to a haunting halt, as the once-bright fire flickered and extinguished, the room was shrouded in impenetrable darkness.

The sudden change left Santa in a profound silence that cut deep.

A surge of anger coursed through him, refusing to let this nightmarish vision mark the end of his Christmas tale. He bellowed into the darkness, his defiance echoing through the abyss. As his voice reverberated, the rage within him tore him from the dream. He snapped his eyes open, reality crashing back upon him, revealing the harsh and confining surroundings. Once more, he found himself confined in darkness, a relentless force threatening not only to crush him but to claim him as its own. His only saving grace was that his bag remained securely cradled beneath his arms.

Santa cried out in pain as he made a desperate attempt to move the rubble that pinned him down. His newfound strength allowed him to shift the debris, but it was far heavier than he could have imagined, knowing that his enhanced level had saved him from being instantly crushed to death.

Was he to be stuck here forever?

The thought of leaving his mission unfinished filled him with anguish, and he refused to give up. With every ounce of determination, he strained against the immense weight above him, trying to free himself. He huffed and puffed, attempting again and again, but the rubble remained stubbornly in place.

As despair began to take hold, Santa summoned the last reserves of his strength and whispered the words, "Mistletoe Missile." In an instant, a blinding light and searing heat engulfed the stones around him, bathing the area in festive magic. The rubble around him ignited like a Christmas tree, but it still refused to budge.

Defeated and gasping for breath, Santa lay there, a tear forming in his eye. It felt like the end. The end of Christmas itself.

Just when he thought all hope was lost, the debris above him began to shift. The weight seemed to lessen, bit by bit. More and more rubble moved away until Santa could catch a glimmer of the auroras above. Someone was digging him out.

"I'm down here!" Santa called out, his voice echoing in the dark void. He yearned to know the identity of his rescuer, but at that moment, all he cared about was getting out.

A colossal finger gripped the stones above him, and as he glimpsed more of the sky, he noticed the familiar bones of the dragon shifting above him.

Had the fossilized remains pinned him down?

As more and more rubble shifted, revealing Santa's trapped head and torso, a glimmer of hope ignited within him. His heart raced as he held on to the hope that the massive nutcracker would remember its origins as a protector of Christmas.

"Why are you helping me?" Santa asked, his voice croaking but filled with anticipation. He longed for the nutcracker to recognize him and come to his aid. However, just as his hope grew, it was swiftly dashed away by the echo of chains.

Suddenly, a familiar face appeared over the edge of the hole, a wicked sneer on Malgrim's face, revealing his sharp teeth. He relished in the suffering of the man below.

He turned away from the trapped man and shifted his focus to something else. "Good, you found it." Malgrim's voice dripped with malevolence as he spoke to the giant nutcracker above.

Santa's heart sank, leaving him to wonder what they were after.

As his mind, tried to make sense of their actions a peculiar scent wafted down from above, sending a shiver down Santa's spine. He knew that smell, and the sound of chains, but he couldn't place them. It left him with an overwhelming sense of unease.

Santa had lived a long life, extending far beyond the realm of mortals, and his memory wasn't as good as it used to be. However, as his level increased, so did his mental clarity. Gradually, a thought began to form in his mind.

Malgrim's voice cut through the tense air breaking Santa’s concentration, as he commanded the giant, "Take it so they can get out of this dump." Santa watched in confusion as a massive wooden arm descended into the hole, its colossal fingers clamping around the sack in Santa's arms. Horrified, Santa's eyes widened in panic as the giant effortlessly snatched the sack away.

[Santa’s Enhanced Sack (Legendary): has been stolen]

“No!” Santa yelled out.

Malgrim laughed, savouring the anguish visible on Santa's face. “Have fun down there, we are off to visit a nice little town not far from here.”

"Wait! No!" Santa shouted in desperation. But it was too late. Just as the shadow of the giant disappeared from the lip of the hole, Santa heard Malgrim say, "Okay, good, let's get out of here."

At that moment, another voice cut through the air, grating like nails against a chalkboard, filling Santa with a sense of horror. "Not yet.” The sharp voice came close to the edge of the hole as it commanded, “bury him,"

Malgrim sneered, "Yes, boss." Then turned to the giant nutcracker. “Do it!”

As the giant's shadow once more loomed over him, Santa caught a fleeting glimpse of a dark shape, its sharp horn tips barely visible for an instant. He was sure he had seen them before, long ago. But his thoughts were abruptly interrupted as stones tumbled once again into the pit, engulfing Santa in darkness.

"No!" Santa yelled, but his voice was muffled as dirt covered his mouth.

🌟Ally - Mya (Level 6, ghoul - Christmas Sorceress) ‘Fangirl of Fantasy’:

Stolen novel; please report.

Has been forcefully removed from the party!

❄ ❅ ❆ ❄ ❅

🛡️Ally - Walterfink (Level 5 ghoul) ‘The Dullard’:

Has been forcefully removed from the party!

❄ ❅ ❆ ❄ ❅

Alone in the suffocating darkness, Santa counted the minutes as they dragged on, each one a heavy reminder of his helplessness. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, desperately seeking a plan to escape his predicament. But the solitude weighed on him, and he knew he had lost everything. There was no one left to aid him, not a single living soul in sight.

As he was left alone with his thoughts, the word "living" struck a strange chord within him, seeming oddly amusing as if the concept of life had become alien. Santa couldn't help but wonder as time dragged on, that if he was a reanimated corpse, was he truly alive? Or was he merely a walking, talking zombie destined to be trapped forever, just like the bundle of bones he had glimpsed when he was buried?

Then, a strange idea sparked in his mind. Was it even possible? But, what other choice did he have? He almost chuckled at the absurdity of it all as he began to recite the words:

"By the frosty winds of the North, and the starlit skies so vast,

I call upon the Yuletide spirits, echoes of Winter's past.

Rise from your silent slumber, in the snow where you lay,

Awaken now, as I beckon, on this magical sleigh.

With the jingle of bells and a cheer so bright,

Return to the realm of the living, under the aurora light."

As Santa uttered the incantation, the strange power surged from his body and moved into the soil around him, searching for the object of his thoughts.

For a moment Santa thought the spell had failed, but then the ground rumbled and shook, as the rubble above him began to tremble. His eyes darted around, desperately searching for any sign of what was happening but found nothing but darkness. Then, in an instant, the ground around him churned and shifted violently. The stones around him burst up and out, upheaving all the rubble skywards in an explosive shower of chaos.

Santa's heart pounded in his chest as he desperately clawed his way free from the stones that had imprisoned him. The debris flew in all directions, but his temporary relief emboldened him to push onward. With determination, he raced up the shifting slope, desperate for the taste of freedom, narrowly avoiding the storm of debris.

Santa’s heart leaped as he burst forth into the open air, gasping for breath just as the stones came crashing back down. As the dust settled, he found himself surrounded by snowy hills atop a mound of rubble. Above him, soaring high among the northern lights, was an unmistakable shape in the sky.

He gasped in awe, realizing that the spell had indeed worked, and the dragon had been resurrected.

For a fleeting moment, he wondered if he had unwittingly unleashed a monstrous force upon the unsuspecting world. But before he could fully contemplate his fears, the colossal creature banked its wings and veered back toward him. Large, empty eye sockets fixated on the red-suited man atop the rubble, and the dragon descended to the ground. It appeared that the beast was curious to know who had awakened it so abruptly.

Santa took a cautious step back, gazing up at the dragon as its name and description appeared above its massive form.

[Aurora, the ‘awakened’ Dragon. Level 75]

“Wow,” he gawked, slack jawed.

As the dragon drew nearer, Santa could see the creature more clearly. It was a truly awe-inspiring sight, and yet unnerving. The dragon's body was composed entirely of bones and sinew, lacking the flesh or scales that typically covered a dragon's robust form. Its skeletal structure was exposed, giving it a rather emaciated appearance. Despite its skeletal nature, the dragon was massive, stretching at least sixty feet in length.

Santa marvelled at how the magic school had managed to fit the entire beast within the confines of the tower's roof. He remembered that the skeleton had been curled around the roof multiple times to accommodate its size.

The dragon had two enormous, leathery wings that seemed to defy gravity, enabling the gargantuan creature to stay aloft. Santa instinctively took a step back as the dragon dove gracefully and landed on all fours with a resounding thud. It raised its bony wings toward the sky in a gesture of dominance and let out a deafening roar that echoed through the snowy landscape.

"What are you?" demanded the dragon.

Santa's eyebrows shot up in surprise as he took another cautious step back. The dragon had spoken with a pure and unmistakably feminine voice that echoed through the snowy landscape.

"Um, what?" Santa stammered, feeling dwarfed by the massive creature that could easily swallow him whole.

"I have awoken to this terrible place; the tower has been destroyed. What’s going on? What are you?" the Dragon demanded, her confusion and irritation evident.

Santa wasted no time and spoke rapidly, giving the dragon a comprehensive account of the entire situation. He began with his own tragic quest and the unique power he possessed. Then, he vividly described the tower, his mission, and its eventual destruction. He recounted the harrowing attack by the evil elf and the Nutcrackers, all the while the dragon watched him with both patience and suspicion.

"So, these nutcrackers have stolen my scales to empower themselves?" she inquired, her voice tinged with anger. "And what of you? I can feel the essence of my magic coursing through you as well."

Santa hesitated, considering his response carefully. "One particular power I possess is the ability to gain strength from those I eat."

The Dragon's eyes widened in astonishment. "You what?!" she roared, her sharp teeth bared. “How dare you!”

Santa quickly raised his hand in defence and took yet another cautious step back. "I meant to say that I consumed plants and poison that were imbued with the essence of your scales."

The dragon, still eyeing Santa suspiciously, sniffed the air around him to confirm that no scales had entered his stomach. "You're telling the truth," she said, her tone receptive but not entirely convinced. "Did you know, dragons can sense lies?"

"No, I didn't," he admitted, thinking he heard a hint of jest in her voice. He refrained from mentioning the fact that he had never believed in the existence of dragons, but then again, he was Santa—a figure of myth himself.

"So, you're not going to eat me?" Santa asked, voicing his very real concern.

Aurora laughed with a deep, echoing sound and then twisted her skull to peer at the empty chasm that was her stomach. "How?"

Santa chuckled nervously.

"Why did you have to wake me like this? If only I had my… where is my heart?" the dragon asked, her tone biting.

Santa blinked, caught off guard by the question. "I'm sorry, your what?"

The dragon continued to scrutinize the tiny red-clad man, her features unyielding as she assessed his character and intentions. "My magic is bound to my heart," she explained, her bony form shifting as she spoke, "although it seems you have granted me limited control in this form."

Santa shrugged in response; he had no idea what she was talking about.

"You don't know what my heart looks like?" she asked, her tone adopting a somewhat educational air, as though she were addressing a student. "Like any other Dragon heart, it is protected by the same scales that once adorned my body—back when I was alive, that is," she added, her voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia.

Santa nodded. "How big would you say this heart is?"

Aurora sat back on her hind legs and used her front claws to create a rough egg like shape in the air, approximately six feet wide by ten feet tall. The gesture appeared surprisingly human-like, and Santa almost chuckled, but he refrained, not wanting to risk offending a dragon.

"This dragon heart, as you've described it, must be very powerful," he mused as he stroked his beard.

The dragon nodded. "It was enchanted long ago by a wizard with a spell of eternity.”

Santa watched the sincerity within the dragon’s empty eye sockets as his mind tried to piece everything together. “That blasted elf must have wanted the heart and scales all along, but he was working for someone," Santa said, his thoughts racing. "And that little guy was nowhere near strong enough to take over an entire school of magic by himself. He would need..."

His thoughts then recalled the pointed shadow, the chains, and the smell that had unnerved him. A sudden realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. "Birch wood," he muttered. “That smell…”

"What is it?" the Dragon asked.

"Long ago, when I was but a man," Santa began, his voice carrying the weight of centuries of memories, "I made it my life's goal to help and feed the children of the world. But with all good intentions, there are always those who oppose the good we strive for." He sighed, his eyes locking with the empty sockets of the skeletal dragon. "This entire situation—the school, your heart—it was all orchestrated for one purpose."

The Dragon leaned in, her skull twisting in a way that made her look oddly similar to a curious cat. "And what is that?"

Santa's voice trembled as he revealed the horrifying truth. "Whoever is orchestrating this plan, taking the students, delivering poison, building an army from the shadows, it's not to destroy Christmas, but to take children. ALL children."

A deep rumble of disquiet echoed from within the Dragon's core filling the desolate landscape with her anger. Her fury mirroring Santa's own abhorrence towards those who would harm the young. “They took students?”

Santa nodded.

Aurora let out a growl.

Seeing that mutual understanding, Santa posed the question, his eyes filled with a glimmer of hope. "Would you like to help me save the children?"

The dragon stared at him in silence for a long while, her skeletal form unmoving, before finally responding, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "Long ago, I had a human friend. He looked very similar to you, and he lived for a very long time. He too was a caretaker of children and was loved by magic, if not as, ahem, round as you."

Santa chuckled.

Her skeletal skull seemed to smirk as she continued, her voice filled with melancholy. "It was his dream to create a place where those loved by magic, could learn in safety away from the world that hated them. It was a place where they could explore the same passion he had, as I had." She paused, caught up in a memory. "It seems that after my death, he had achieved his goals and kept my body around to protect the students in the future long after his own death."

Santa looked around, taking in the rubble that surrounded them.

Aurora’s voice cut through the cold air as sharply as a blade. "I will not let my friend down.”

🪽 Ally has come online.

Aurora (Level 75 ‘awakened’ Dragon) ‘Mother of Magic’ has joined Santa’s party!

❄ ❅ ❆ ❄ ❅