Mayor Rella was right: it did indeed rain, great big blobs of water splattering the revellers and inundating the City of Tombstones, until it seemed as if it might flood.
This promptly froze, creating no small amount of consternation until the goblins were able to find their ice skates, whereupon the party resumed in even grander form than before.
There was no school the next day, of course, nor even the day after that. Not that the children minded, for it gave them time to play and, what was better, to enjoy the gift that the thermonuclear hampster stuffers had wrought.
You see, the building had exploded not with fire and flame - which would have created an unholy mess, to say nothing of wreaking a great deal of harm - but with delicious candy, great multitudes of treats flying out the sides of the building and then floating slowly to earth. (The Author has tried to figure out why, exactly, a thermonuclear hampster stuffer ought to exude masses of candy when activated, but upon asking Tiddlywhiskers - the elf who created it - received only a “because it ought to. Duh.” Some mysteries, alas, are better eaten than investigated.)
One may easily imagine the excitement of the city’s children, most of whom were already out and about attending the parade and thus had ready access to the wave of delicious treats.
The day's festivities continued past the witching hour into the wee hours of the morning, but we’ll leave them here. Not ours are the roaring bonfires of the night, the food served piping hot as in times of old, the laughter raucous and the music yet more boisterous.
No, ours is a small bridge on Poppycock Street, where a small crowd had gathered for a more intimate evening. Cindy - triumphant over her foes, both people and paperwork - came with a basket of buttered veggies, to accompany the inevitable wave of croquettes and cookies baked by her cousin’s husband. Miriam came along with the hot chocolate, and Mayor Rella brought the candy (which may or may not have been the candy hurled out by the thermonuclear hampster stuffers, but hey, even an adult is permitted to laze around every now and then).
They were joined by Lug and Miranda, Caedes, and Yaaroghkh. Claireholm brought the alcohol, a mix of the usual Christmas brews and some ‘special’ flavours given to him by the goblin king, who wouldn’t be coming. The Doll was also there. A hater of crowds, he had vanished shortly after performing his magic (I have it on good authority he was enjoying tea with the Man on the Moon), but had showed up at the party with a poofy, goofy hat, and a bundle of goodies.
The party went late into the night. Not, perhaps, as late as the party taking place on the streets - Mayor Rella didn’t approve of his daughter staying up that late, and Cindy was a filial child - but late enough. The feasting and frolicking was a story all on its own; but as I have already shown many festivities of a similar, if less intimate sort, I’ll leave them to their fun in the light of the fire and the firefly.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The next few weeks were consumed in a stressful, if joyous, period of rebuilding. A number of the Families and the Sects had vanished mysteriously during the course of the revels, and many of the survivors found themselves restructuring, wilfully or not. These were peaceful, if awkward, weeks.
“Hello. Before we get started, I just wanted to say— thank you, thank you so much.” Laetitia said, grabbing Caedes’ hand and shaking it sincerely.
Caedes stared blankly at the woman he’d elf-ssaulted. “Uhh, no problem.”
Yaaroghkh hung around until Christmas. His official excuse, sent by e-mail to Arius (the ‘e’ is short for ‘elf’), was that he wasn’t sure how many of the demonic cultivators survived. He needed time to hunt them down, and ensure they wouldn’t be coming after Santa for revenge or engaging in further wicked plots.
“Weren’t they ennaughtified by Krampus and dispersed by an army of goblins, with the survivors being trampled by a surprise parade?” Arius asked aloud, reading the letter, scepticism at its meandering contents clear on his face.
Santa just chortled. “Let him have his fun. Tell him I’ll see him on Christmas Eve.”
Arius might have argued, if only to be a contrarian, but then he had to dash off to remind the elfs that seeing ‘tractor’ in a children’s letter meant a toy tractor, thank you kindly, and by the time he had dealt with this unexpected problem no longer had the enthusiasm to tackle Yaaroghkh’s truancy.
Thus it was that Yaaroghkh was able to scrape by under the radar.
He enjoyed a pleasant few weeks ambling about the city ‘looking for demonic cultivators,’ sometimes with Caedes, sometimes alone. The Doll had gone back to his abode, far from the ways of man (though not until after instructing Caedes in secret and whimsical Ways, by which he might transcend the limits of that), and the goblins had returned to their haunts in the autumnal otherworld, plus one, with the goblin king promising to invite Caedes and Yaaroghkh to the wedding.
Claireholm had regathered his orchestra, very tired after a day and a night’s excursion. They met at the small squat building on Miracle Street, where he rubbed his hands and, with childlike glee, proceeded to instruct them in the Ways shown to him by the Little Snow Girl. Their Christmas concert - delivered a week before Christmas to great applause - surprised Caedes with how beautiful it was; their Christmas concert of the year after left him absolutely astounded, the enlightenment gained from its performance sufficient for him to rise a small realm.
And so time passed, and at last Christmas Eve arrived. Once more there was a party, the Rella estate bedecked with soft red velvet, the table tastefully bedecked with food, and the Christmas Tree bedecked with lights and, at its tippy top, a carving of an elf. They ate, and laughed, and drank, and watched as the shadows grew longer and the longest night of the year drew them deeper and deeper into its coils.
And then came true midnight - the apogee of the darkness, when all the world is asleep and the slumber threatens to extend into eternity - and they heard the distant sound of bells and the swish of flying reindeer, and coming down the chimney a ‘ho, ho, ho, ho.’
THE END