I had a feeling something was wrong when I received an invitation from Mrs. Claus to spend the twelve days before Christmas up at the Pole.
It was not my first time being invited to visit, of course. I usually go up once a year to help with a project or just enjoy a meal with some unique company, but those visits are always short. The magic holding the place together is complex and it tends to have an effect on people, so visitors are not encouraged to stay for long.
Being invited to stay for the full twelve days either meant they were going to make me an offer, of which I could not guess the nature, or something had gone awry, and they needed help only I could provide. Either option hinted at what would be a very interesting holiday.
I accepted, of course, and took care to pack all of my things so that whatever I had been called to do, I could do well.
Who am I, you ask, and what exactly is it that I do?
My name is Claudia, and I am a solver of all problems, magical and monstrous. You might call me a jack of all trades, considering the variety within my skill sets. I’m one of the people you call when something starts to go sideways in a way that would throw off the balance between the magical and mundane worlds. I've done a lot of work in the North Pole, so sometimes they just invite me up for old time’s sake. That wasn’t the case on this trip. No, this time, they called me in to make sure they didn’t have to cancel Christmas.
At least, that is what Mrs. Claus told me over tea when I remarked on how curious I was to learn the nature of my most recent invitation.
“I am afraid that things are happening that could disturb the carefully crafted balance we have worked so hard to create here,” she admitted.
“What sorts of things?” I asked.
“It started out simple. It started out small. I almost didn’t catch it at all. Things went missing, things were misplaced, the wrapping room was found in disgrace. At first, I believed it was nothing to fear, but then someone let loose the reindeer.”
“Have you checked with your staff to make sure this isn’t simply a case of elves cutting corners or rushing to get the job done faster?”
She nodded. “Our elves know how to play their part. In fact, they have it down to an art.”
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“So, whatever is going on likely has an external component that you haven’t encountered yet, otherwise the defenses would have rebuffed it,” I commented. “My best guess would be some kind of trickster entity. Nothing too powerful or malevolent, or an alarm would have been triggered once it crossed onto the property. That’s not to say they can’t cause a fair amount of trouble if left unattended. If you wish, I can begin my investigation with a tour of the places we know have been hit so far and some interviews of the elves who work in those areas. Someone must have picked up on something, even if they haven’t realized it yet.”
“Yes, of course, whatever you need,” she said, struggling against the compulsion to finish the rhyme.
“This has riled up the magics, hasn’t it?” I asked, eyeing her quizzically. She nodded. “I will see what I can do to calm that down as well. This may not be a quick fix, but I should be able to lighten up some of the pressure it’s putting on you. Santa is still secure, right?”
She nodded vehemently and I relaxed. The story magic holding Santa in his role had been in place since near the dawn of time, at least according to the stories. In reality, I knew it had to have been more recent, since the stories hadn’t begun at the dawn of time but instead started a few centuries ago. Anyone who knew what really lurked behind that facade refused to talk about it and honestly, I didn’t want to know. I just accepted the fact that the world was indeed a better place with him being jolly and old.
The story had likely started to assert itself with more vehemence in the light of the trickster activity to prevent any sort of breaches. That was why all the colors felt a little brighter and why his handler, Mrs. Claus, felt so compelled to speak in rhymes.
As I stepped out into the snow and surveyed the village around me, I took a deep breath. Even with the growing concern over whatever the heck was going on, I couldn’t help but relax a bit as I took in the scenery. Elves of all shapes and sizes bustled about their business, paying me little mind.
Now, whatever you just pictured when you read the word elves isn’t exactly accurate to the people of the North Pole. Sure, there are some who are shorter and chubbier, but they are descended from a more gnomish ancestry. Within the pole lived people whose ancestry traced all over the world, who had carried the spirit of Christmas in their hearts for generations. Some were newer arrivals while some had lineages that traced nearly back to the beginning. The title of elf came from the story itself, but from what I understood, many chose to bear it with pride. It didn’t matter where they came from, they were all a family.
As for the village, it is everything you think a Christmas Village should be and then some. The colors are rich and vibrant, everything smells amazing, and there is always something in the air that brings a smile to your face. Many of the people who have visited the Pole have tried to guess exactly what that is but so far, I’m the only one who has gotten close.
The magic of the North Pole is heavily based in story-magic, and a key part of most Christmas stories is hospitality. It's been that way for so long that the air itself is infused with hospitality, so it adjusts the appearance of the village to best fit what you think a Christmas village should look like, within the parameters of the existing story. It appeared to me as a cozy village whose paths I knew well and people I knew better.
The piano music dancing on the wind carried with it the smell of pine needles and fresh brewed mulled cider and chocolate chip cookies. Nothing beat Christmas at the North Pole, but something told me this year would be particularly memorable.