“Yeah, about that,” Jasper gestured to himself and Ihra. “I’m willing to help you fight Krampus, if need be, but we’re still in our underwear. And weaponless,” he added.

“Are you asking for a Christmas gift,” the old man’s eyes twinkled.

“No-”

“Say no more,” the man roared. With a click of his fingers, a large, plush bag suddenly manifested on the ground before them. “Ah, let us see what the spirits of Christmas shall grant us,” he continued cheerfully.

He reached into the bag, ducking down so far that his head entirely disappeared into its black void and reemerged a moment later, clutching something colorful. “Here you go,” he said, tossing it to them.

Jasper enrolled the bundle, cringing as he realized it resembled a ninja suit, if ninja suits were made with the gaudiest red and green colors imaginable, and topped with a generous amount of fur trim. “Uh, do you have anything a little less bright?”

“Have some Christmas spirit, lad,” the man replied, seemingly unperturbed as he ducked back into the bag. “And now for some weapons.”

With a sigh, Jasper speculated on what weapons to expect as he began putting on the gaudy garments. A rubber ducky mallet? Cinnamon-infused water gun? A candy cane club? He pulled the shirt over his head, noting distantly that it was a perfect fit, and froze as he looked up.

“I know it’s not your usual weapon,” Santa said, “but I hope this will suffice.” The old man held out a sword that looked like it had been straight from a lost scene of Lord of the Rings, complete with a faint blue glow emanating from the metal.

“That’s…a real weapon,” he stuttered out, and for the second time, the man’s cheer dampened.

“I told you, Krampus is an old and dangerous foe. Only a fool takes him lightly.”

Jasper muttered his thanks as he took the sword, and gave it a test swipe or two, noticing instantly its perfect balance. Wonder where he got this.

“And here’s a bow for you, young lady.”

“Ihra,” she corrected, and the man’s eyes twinkled.

“Ihra, then. If you stick around, perhaps you’ll find your way on my list.” The bow was even more beautiful than his sword, a shimmering masterpiece of a weapon that looked like it was forged from hammered starlight and mist. She took the bow reverently, testing the string with a satisfied look.

“There, we have weapons and armor. Now, shall we reclaim the ossuary?”

Although still distracted by the gaudy clothes and beautiful weapons, Jasper’s brain finally latched onto the word Santa had several times. “Ossuary? What is this ossuary you keep talking about? Isn’t that like a grave or something?”

A touch of discomfort flickered in the old man’s eyes, and Jasper thought he might refuse to answer. “I suppose there’s no harm in you knowing,” he finally replied. “The ossuary is the seat of my power. This,” he said, tapping his belly, “is just my physical form. My true consciousness, though, is in the ossuary. Without it, my powers are vastly weakened, and if Krampus should decide to destroy it,” a shudder shook his shoulders, “then I would cease to exist.”

His seat of power? Jasper’s eyes narrowed as he processed Santa’s words. “Wait a minute,” he blurted. “Are you saying you’re a damned lich?”

“It is not a phylactery!” the old man thundered back. “It is a relic, not that foul, cursed magic.”

Right. He’s a saint. Eh, po-tay-to, po-tah-to. Jasper kept his thoughts to himself, though. “Sorry, it’s been a long day,” he said apologetically, and the man’s good cheer promptly returned.

“No worries, lad, but we really must stop delaying. Christmas is almost here, and as long as Krampus holds the ossuary, there will be no presents for good boys and girls.”

“Well by all means, then, lead on,” he responded dryly.

The old man whistled merrily as he led them out of the dungeon and into his complex, whipping through every Christmas song Jasper had ever heard and quite a few unfamiliar ones as well. To no surprise, the hall was as vibrantly decorated as no dungeons, though it was more elegant than Jasper had expected it to be.

The great hall the dungeon exited out of was a giant atrium topped with frosty glass that nurtured a veritable spruce forest beneath it. Small herds of reindeer meandered through the trees, while all manner of small creatures, from adorable snow foxes to crafty pine martens made subtle appearances. There was no sign, however, of the elves Santa had mentioned, safe for the obvious marks of battle that marred the ground every few steps.

“So, uh, are your people okay,” he finally asked.

“The elves?” The old man paused his whistling. “Aye, they’ll be fine. Krampus is a greedy old bastard at heart, so I’m sure he’s sent them somewhere useful,” the last word slipped out with a slight growl. “‘No need to make toys when they could be mining gold,’ he told me the last time this happened.”

“But you needn’t worry your head about them,” Santa continued. “Once we’ve retrieved the ossuary, I’ll have no trouble rescuing them. Come,” he stopped as he reached the threshold of a massive pair of gates covered in hundreds of blinking lights. “I can feel him just beyond.”

“Any tips?” Jasper asked.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

The man eyed him shrewdly. “Like me, he’s resistant to fire, so no need to waste those spells on him. The other side of your heritage should do nicely, though, and you, lass,” he turned his attention to Ihra. “I do not know your bow’s maker, but I could feel the power in its sinew when I pulled it out of the bag. Unless I miss my guess, that bow will do the most damage of all.”

“Just keep him busy, and I’ll do the rest,” the old man continued. “Now, shall we proceed,” he added with a hearty chuckle.

Not waiting for their response, his hand touched the massive doors and pushed. It swung wide, smooth and silent as the night, and revealed what waited on the other side. With a wink, Santa’s form blurred and stretched as he shifted into the shadows, flickering down the hall ahead of them, leaving them to face the massive being in the center of the room alone.

If Jasper had still been in Corsythia, he would have said their enemy was some sort of a troll. True, it was larger, lankier, and considerably more hairy than the trolls he’d encountered, but the greyish skin, the spiraling horns, and the oversized body bore a marked resemblance to the monsters. The biggest physical difference was the long, prehensile tail draped across his shoulder and, unfortunately, the fact that he didn’t share the trolls’ weakness to fire.

“Ready,” he murmured to Ihra, and she nodded.

“After you.”

As the two stepped across the threshold, Jasper felt the faintest touch of magic brush against him, and its source became immediately obvious as the being spun around. Some sort of magical tripwire. Old Nick could have warned me about that.

“Who dares trespass the Sanctum of Winter’s Soul,” a gruff voice thundered.

“You’re Krampus, right?”

“Lord Krampus,” he growled, and the earth shuddered as the being turned and stalked toward them, allowing them to see the massive claws that adorned his feet and hands. “And mortals like you should not be here.” He raised his hands, and a pair of long birch rods materialized in his palms. “Do not resist your punishment.”

He surged forward with unexpected speed, his long tail whipping back and forth behind him as he headed straight for Jasper.

“Punishing Hand.” The spell slipped out while the being was still a hundred feet away, but it did nothing to stop his momentum. His foot crunched down on the wriggling hand, banishing it, and Krampus raised the birch rods above his head.

“And you were on the good list,” he roared. “Just more proof of my brother’s senility.”

Brother? Jasper twisted to the side as Krampus reached him, wincing as the birch rods hammered the ground hard enough to crack the paving stone, and he slashed the sword against the being’s side.

A sliver of blood oozed through the thick skin and fur, but that was all the damage he did. With an angry growl, Krampus rounded him, and he wasn’t fast enough to dodge this time. The birch rods came at him from both sides, cracking his ribs as they caught him in the torso, and then, in an unexpected move, the being lifted him with the rods and flicked him across the room. “Oh, ho, ho,” Krampus chuckled darkly. “Was that all you have? I shall relish-”

He stumbled, grunting in pain as a small object punched through his chest. “I-” He stared down blankly at the shimmering arrow, before growling in irritation. “Selene?!”

He blurred forward as another arrow raced toward him, parrying the arrow with a flick of his tail, but the third arrow passed under his guard, catching him in the stomach. “No, not Selene. Just another pesky mortal,” he raved as he charged toward Ihra.

Rolling to his feet, Jasper ignored the stabbing pains in his chest and cast a spell. Seraph Burst. He collided with Krampus just before he reached his friend, and the two smashed into the wall. He narrowly dodged the hasty backhand the being threw in his direction and, ducking beneath the blow, raked his sword across the creature’s face.

Another thin stripe of blood appeared and he reached for his essence. Krampus’ fist hurtled toward him, and Jasper braced for the blow, knowing he wouldn’t get the spell off in time. Scourge of Despair.

As he was flung backward, he managed to flick the spectral whip across Krampus’ body, and he smiled as the screams of the specters filled the hall - a smile that was quickly wiped off his face as he hit the ground, breaking more bones as he bounced along the cold stone.

Circle of Forgiveness. He staggered to his feet as the spell began to heal his damage, and his spirits sank further as he watched the being banish his specter with every swipe of his claws. Damn it. Can we even hurt this guy? His question was answered as another arrow caught Krampus in the back, sending him to the knees. At least one of us can.

Retrieving his sword, he started circulating his essence again, when a booming voice entered the fray.

“Ho, ho, ho - Merry Christmas!” The withered old man they’d met in the cells below positively radiated light as he apparated before Krampus, and cracked a whip. “Cease this madness, brother.”

The creature responded with an inchoate roar, lowering its head and surging forward as it tried to ram Santa with its horns, but the old man disappeared in a shower of light and glitter, appearing directly behind him. “I had hoped you’d see reason, but, alas!” The whip cracked again, growing to unnatural lengths as it wrapped around Krampus until he was bound up as tight as a mummy. “One day, brother, you shall see the purpose of joy - one day,” the old man muttered as he raised his hand and, with a click of his fingers, the brute disappeared.

Is that it? Jasper cast Circle of Forgiveness on himself again as he approached Ihra, grunting in pain as his ribs clicked back into place. “You’ll alright,” he asked her.

“Fine. He didn’t even touch me.”

“Good,” he said, offering her a smile, and turned to Santa. “I take it you got your ossuary?”

“Back and as good as ever,” the man replied cheerily. “All thanks to your help.”

“I’m not sure we did much,” Jasper said hesitantly, but Old Nick shook his head.

“I’d still be stuck in a cell if it wasn’t for you, and even with my skill in stealth, I doubt I could have snuck past Krampus without him noticing. I am most grateful for Lord Tsiāhu’s aid.”

“Err, right,” Jasper replied, still uncertain if the god had actually had any hand in the events.

“Unfortunately,” the man continued briskly. “I have no time to spare - Christmas is mere hours away and I must save my elves. But I have time for one last gift.” A twinkle appeared in his eyes as he turned to Ihra. “I suggest, young lady, that you don’t try a portal spell while you’re drunk again. You never know where you’ll end up. Fortunately for you, I know how to send you home.”

“Wait-” Jasper started to say, but the old man clicked his fingers before he could finish.

“Ho, ho, ho - Merry Christmas!”

The world blurred for a fraction of a second before coming back into focus. He blinked rapidly as a high-pitched peal of laughter greeted him. “Tsia?”

“What are you wearing? You look like a jester,” she roared.

A smile fought its way to his lips, and his spirits lifted. Okay, maybe it wasn’t earth, but maybe the old man hadn’t lied. Maybe, he really was home for Christmas.