“I expected to be attacked tonight. I always do. It’s why my security on the 24th is always especially tight.” His voice was low and calm, which was almost more unnerving than if he’d been shouting at them. “No doubt Krampus would be up to yet another of his usual schemes…maybe he’d come himself. Maybe he’d send those clumsy snow golems of his. Or maybe…” He paced the room, arms behind his back, before pausing right in front of SG2. “Maybe he’d hire some holiday hoodlums to do the dirty work for him.”

“Holiday…hoodlums…?” SG2 was surprised to hear those words, which she thought she’d just made up off the top of her head.

“Krampus knows I’m always one step ahead of him, so every year he tries to come up with a new plan that will put him several more ahead of me. It’s a very diabolical game of chess we play…as I become wise to his usual tactics, he’ll suddenly switch it up at the last second to catch me off guard. Then he’ll go back to the usual again, trying to make me complacent. Of course, I’ve long since grown wise to this tactic, as well. We’re always trying to outdo the other in this game…but I’ve always had one ace in the hole that he’s never been able to match.” Santa Claus leaned down, looking SG2 in the eye. His face was so close she could smell the peppermint eggnog on his breath. “You and your friends.”

Santa gestured, and two of the elf generals stepped forward. One held Karma’s helmet in his hand. The other, Reese’s necklace.

“I have to say, though, I never expected him to stoop this low…he hates you and your group more than anyone. Aside from myself, of course. And I’m even more surprised that you actually took his bait!! So, what did he do to buy you? I figure he can’t have much, considering the repair fees for that tower of his that comes down every year…”

“We’re not working for Krampus…agh!!” Karma coughed violently as one of the generals kicked her face. Of course, the rest of her body was armored…that was about the only place he could kick to cause her pain. “We’re…really not…!! Gah!!!”

Santa gestured to the general…’that’s enough for now’. That’s probably what he meant…the general stepped back from Karma, an annoyed look on his face for being made to stop.

“Well, whatever. It doesn’t matter why you chose to side with him – only that you did. Because you chose wrong. All these years, I’ve rewarded you well for your services, have I not? You always get what you’ve most wanted under the tree, no matter how expensive or difficult to acquire it may be. Was that not enough? Perhaps you wanted praise, or recognition, for your efforts? Oh, no no no no no…that simply wouldn’t do. Because you see, Santa gets the praise. Santa gets the recognition. All the love, all the songs, all the TV specials…they’re all about me. What do you think would happen if word got out that someone else was stealing that spotlight with their holiday heroics every year? That wouldn’t be good for Santa at all. I thought you could be made to understand that, as long as those presents found their way under your tree, but…”

“Believe what you want…but we’re not so easily bribed as those companies you’re dealing with!!”

The general from before – Sparkle, SG2 thought she’d heard – stepped forward with a positively sadistic look on his face…but Santa held an arm out to block his path, instructing him to hold back as well. It seemed that he brought these generals here primarily for backup, in case they’d attempted to escape. Thinking on it, SG2 realized that though they’d been tied (and caged), they hadn’t even been gagged and were able to speak freely before Santa had shown up. At the very least, it didn’t look like his goal was to torture them…for now.

“You read them, I see. And here I was hoping we could end this peacefully, and let you off with a warning…”

Santa clapped his hands, and within seconds the four generals had drawn their weapons. SG2, Reese, Karma and…well, the fourth general was sort of just awkwardly rotating between them…were suddenly facing down the barrels of candy cane rifles. Well, so much for him not planning to hurt them. But SG2 wasn’t deterred in the least – she just kept smiling.

“Looks like those files were pretty important, after all. It’s too bad I dropped them when I tried to escape. Must have been some pretty bad secrets in there, I bet you’d really have hated for those to get out…”

“Hah!! Oh, very clever. You’re trying to bait me into revealing my master plan to you, since I’m going to kill you anyway. The whole time you’ll be working on some kind of covert escape plan, and while I’m distracted, you’ll make a run for it. You certainly know your movie plots, HOOOO ho ho!!” Santa’s belly shook like a bowl full of jelly as he laughed in the face of SG2’s feeble attempt at prying information from him. “I’m not so foolish as to fall for such a trick. And even if I were, I have here four highly trained generals from the Elven Army’s Winter Warhouse. I’ve also enchanted your bonds so you can’t easily break free. That rope of yours, for example? Fireproof, woven from magical reindeer hair and the tough fibers of the incombustible plam tree. You won’t be burning through those.”

Reese growled at the mention of the plam tree…that’s right, didn’t Reese say something about that earlier? He and Karma were talking about a political trade of their nation’s rarest magical ingredients. If it were that big a deal, it couldn’t have been an easy thing to get one’s hands on…

“Heh…you’ve thought of everything, haven’t you. And here I thought no one had access to the plam tree groves without Reese’s direct permission…but I guess a businessman with your kind of connections must have his ways, huh?”

Santa grinned. It was obvious that SG2 was still trying to bait him into explaining what she had found in that warehouse, and just as obvious that Santa saw through this trick clear as day.

“This one’s getting a bit uppity for its own good…on your orders, sir.”

“That won’t be necessary, General Snowflake.” Santa waved the general off, then took a seat on a nearby stool and crossed his legs. “You’re very persistent, aren’t you, little tiger? You want that badly to know about my business deals? Fine. I’ll tell you. Cliche though it may be, you will die here today – the three of you breaking free on your own and escaping is certifiably impossible, I stake my very reputation on it. So I suppose there’s no harm in telling you. It wouldn’t be Christmas without Santa’s story time, after all.”

The generals continued to hold steady with their rifles trained on SG2 and the others, while Santa took out a pipe and began leisurely puffing on it. Outwardly, he certainly looked just as conceited as the typical overconfident villain about to reveal their evil plans…but SG2 knew he was smarter than that. He’d already seen through so much, and been more than prepared for this attack, even if he wasn’t expecting them specifically. He had even prepared enchantments specifically tailored to preventing their escape on such short notice, which means he must have had a supply of goods ready for just such an occasion. She hated to think it, but he was right – there was no way they could escape from here. All they could do to pass the time right now was listen to Santa’s story…and hope that Bones would notice that more than an hour had passed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Santa Claus. This identity was created by my great great…you know what, it’s too much of a hassle to trace that far back. Let’s just call him my ancestor, Kristof Kringle. Maybe you’ve heard of him? He’s not known as well here in IGNOLand, but I hear he is still recognized and celebrated widely in his home country of the Nordlands. They even interred his body there, though he died right here in IGNOLand. Nowadays, though, few realize that there have been multiple Santa Clauses throughout history. Kristof actually cursed our family line, you see. In order to stop the Krampus from preying on people, he magically bound the beast to himself and dragged him here, to these lifeless wastes of IGNOLand. When he died, that curse passed down to his firstborn child, and to his child after that…onward and onward through the generations.

It was actually my older brother, Cross, who was meant to inherit the position of Santa Claus after my father passed. However, my relationship with Cross was…volatile, to say the least. We were both raised strictly for a future in Christmas. It was the family business, after all – in more ways than one. You see, it wasn’t just my father, the previous Santa Claus. My mother was actually one of the toymaking Christmas Elves. They fell in love when my father was still young, before he inherited the position from his father…though it was seen by many as a forbidden love, I hear his father supported it, and they were very happy together.

Of course, this means my brother and I were both half-elves…toymaking was in our blood. But while I wound up looking very nearly human, my mother’s blood ran more thickly in my brother Cross. Not quite short enough to be an elf, yet not tall enough for a human. His ears were pointed, but relatively round by elf standards. As a result, he never quite fit in with his other peers – the humans teased him, and the elves shunned him, both viewing him as one of the opposite race. And though he was the eldest child – the one who should have become Santa Claus after my father passed – he absolutely loved making toys, more than anything else.

I, however, could not stand the job. It didn’t help that I was also terrible at it. Meanwhile, Cross had a real knack for the work…but he was fated to become the deliverer of the toys, not the one who made them. That job was going to be shoved off on me, whether I liked it or not. Father was always telling me, ‘Chris, your brother will be Santa Claus one day. He needs you to stand by his side and support him.’ Support him? Why? I had never heard of previous Santas requiring that kind of ‘support’. I wanted to be acknowledged for myself, but Father always seemed to see me as an accessory to Cross. I wanted him to praise me for a change. I tried all kinds of things to impress him…did you know I’m actually quite skilled as a painter? I taught myself to play guitar, as well. I was quite proud of that. But Father had no interest in those things. All he wanted from me was to make toys…and even when I put my best effort into the job, they always turned out terrible. I was such a disappointment to Father…it’s a pretty classic story, isn’t it? Well, it may be cliche…but this was my life. And I’d had enough of it. I wanted to make Father proud of me, even if it was for something I hated doing.

So I stole one of Cross’ toy designs and presented it to Father as my own. How many centuries ago was it…? I can still remember the smile on his face that day. He was so proud of me. ‘You finally did it, Chris’, he said. ‘I knew you had that toymaker’s spirit deep down, you just needed to find it!!’ I spent the whole day beaming, if not longer. For the first time, I knew what it was to be praised…it was such a great feeling!! And yet…I hated myself. I had stolen the design from Cross. It wasn’t my own. Cross never said anything…he knew, of course. But in spite of his stature, he was always ‘the bigger man’ compared to me…a truly model older brother. He never said a word of it. Not to me, not to Father. Time went by as usual, and we carried on as normal. I continued to build the toy design I had stolen from Cross, and Father was happy. Before we knew it, Christmas time had come.

We had a party that year. Father always loved holding Christmas parties. He’d have all his gifts finished ahead of time, and his sleigh prepped and ready to go by early December. Believe it or not, Christmas time was the one time of the year Father actually relaxed…he was always saying that he wanted us to appreciate what all the year’s work was for, and to pass the season peacefully. You could think of December – aside from that one night – as my father’s vacation, the only one he would take all year. Anyway…I’ll never forget that party, no matter how long I’ve lived. Father was bragging about me to all of his friends that night. Talking about how innovative my toy design had been, and how many children were going to love it. I had long since gotten over my guilt towards Cross by then…he’d never said a word about my theft, and I’d pushed it down deep inside myself until I’d gone numb. Of course…I’d gone numb to the praise by then, too. Hearing Father talk about the toy design no longer made my feel anything.

Until I heard him say those words.

He had been chatting excitedly with a business associate…of course, while Santa Claus’ primary job was to deliver toys himself, those were not the only gifts children would open on Christmas. Parents and relatives needed to prepare presents, as well…and so our toys were often sold to small stores to add to their stock. Back then wasn’t like it is today – toy stores were generally small, family-owned businesses, and Father dealt with all of his partners on a personal level. There was nothing corporate, no going through middle men. And of course, Father never accepted any of the money as profit. He was…too good for that. In any case, they had been chatting happily for some time when I happened to walk over, and Father pulled me in and introduced me.

‘This is my son, who I told you about’, he said.

‘The one who made that toy?’

‘Yes, the very same!!’

‘Congratulations, boy, you’ll go far!!’

‘Yes, I’m confident that if he keeps going at this rate, he’ll even be as good as Cross one day!!’

I think my heart had died that day.

I had tried so hard to make Father proud, but nothing I ever did was good enough. Out of desperation, I’d stolen a design from Cross and claimed it as my own. Finally, I had been praised, and for a time, this was enough. But as time went by, it began eating away at me more and more, though I’d tried to convince myself to block it away. I could only be praised by emulating Cross. I would never be good enough on my own. As myself. And even when Father had finally acknowledged me for something he’d believed to be my own…even then, I was only compared to Cross. I would be as good as Cross one day…? Cross, that genius toy maker, who would become Santa Claus, while I labored away in a factory working at something I hated, and wasn’t even good at…

In that moment, I hated my Father, and I hated Cross. But more than anything else, I hated myself. If only Cross hadn’t been born…!! I couldn’t stand it. Why was I the younger child? if only I had been born before Cross…no, if only Cross was never born in the first place!! Why did Father love him so much, when he barely even noticed me?! I couldn’t stand it anymore – that night, I had made up my mind.

I had to kill Cross.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute…pause.”

Santa looked up from his pipe, noticeably unamused that SG2 had interrupted his story at such an intense part.

“…is there a problem?”

“Well yeah, kinda…a few years back, that time Cross kidnapped you and tried to take over as Santa…we’d found a book explaining part of this story. Except, in the book, it said that you were a genius toymaker, and Cross was the jealous one who tried to kill you. And that’s when you awakened your Christmas magic and sealed him away in that weird library dimension. Isn’t this story, well…kinda the opposite?”

“Oh yes…that book. Truth be told, I was the one who wrote that.”

“You…wrote it?”

“I did indeed, and planted it as evidence for Krampus to find. I knew he’d probably go to you seeking help, but you’d never side with him under normal circumstances…or, well, I thought so at the time–”

“We’re not working for…nngh. So you knew he’d bring us that book…and we’d join forces with him to fight a greater evil…?”

“Precisely. It was the perfect plan to get both Cross and Krampus out of my hair…and you took the bait perfectly!!”

SG2 struggled to bite down her rage, knowing they’d been used…but they still had rifles pointed at them. She couldn’t afford to lose herself to anger now…fortunately, Karma sensed this, and skillfully took over the conversation.

“I wasn’t actually present for that particular adventure, but I’ve heard the stories. Wasn’t Cross deranged and Hell-bent on stealing your position as Santa Claus? That doesn’t sound at all like the Cross you’ve described in your story so far…”

“Cross had been trapped in that isolated pocket of spacetime for…oh, even I’ve lost count of how many years it’s been. His mind deteriorated beyond recognition. Listening to the world go by around him, writing enough to fill that space with an entire library…is it any wonder he’d gone mad? One of the only glimmers of his old self that remained was his strong desire to take over the job of Santa Claus and reclaim the position I’d stolen from him all those years ago.”

“But I thought he actually wanted to make toy–”

“BACK TO THE STORY.”

What happened next is exactly as you’ve no doubt surmised. I stole into Cross’ bedroom in the night and attempted to take his life. However, he woke up before I could, and tried to fend me off with his latent Christmas Magic. Unfortunately for him, I had already prepared a backup plan – my father’s bag. If I couldn’t kill Cross, I could at least get rid of him by sealing him inside another dimension. And I succeeded.

Father never knew the truth of what happened to Cross that night. When we woke the next morning, he was simply gone. Mother was devastated. She passed away a few years later…I don’t believe she even made it to the succession ceremony where I was officially granted the position of Santa Claus. Once Cross was gone, she was never herself again. Father took it hard, as well – he became much quieter in his later years. His eyes had lost the sparkle they’d once had, and though he still cared deeply about delivering toys to the children, it never again showed on his face. We stopped holding parties. Father began working through December without taking any time off. It only got worse once Mother died…and then, of course, I was subject to the harsh training to become a true and proper Santa Claus. I would never know if it was always this harsh, and Cross simply never let it get him down…or if Father had just become disillusioned with the holiday in the years since losing Cross and Mother. Perhaps the best word for it would be…rigid. He had become…a very rigid man. And then eventually he, too, was gone from this world.

That covers the story of how I became the Santa Claus…I won’t go into the whole history I have with the Krampus personally. He’s simply not worth my time. No…the part you wanted to know was how I came to become entwined in these various shady business dealings, yes? Well, I’ve got news for you – this is nothing new. If you really think about it, the signs have been there for a very long time. Yes…compared to Christmas in my father’s time, the way we celebrate a modern IGNOLand Christmas is quite different. I no longer see any reason to hide it – I’m entirely responsible for the holiday’s shift in tone. And I’m damn proud of it.

Christmas had long been a tradition in my family, stretching all the way back to Kristof Kringle’s time. And for thousands of years, it had been steeped in tradition, culture, and family values, most of which had been brought over to IGNOLand by the Nords. What we called Christmas – after Kristof – was heavily based on the ‘Wintertide’ celebrations of the Nordlands. That’s where you get a lot of the traditional trappings from – the family togetherness, the exchanging of gifts, things of that nature. Some other elements, like Christmas trees and candy canes, came after the stories of Kristof and the Krampus spread – but at its core, Christmas was about gathering with loved ones, exchanging gifts, and having a feast. While Kristof was known for giving gifts to the less fortunate to made the pilgrimage to see him, it wasn’t until my great grandfather that making toys and delivering them personally became practiced – apparently he saw potential in spreading joy further by circumventing the need for people to make the long and treacherous journey to the Ice Plains. Don’t ask me where the elves came in – this was all established well before I was born, and even I don’t have all the answers. All I know is that it was my grandfather, and my father after him, who had really refined the toymaking business.

…now, while I say ‘business’, there was of course no profit involved. Being Santa Claus was a lifelong commitment. Though the curse only bound us in our duty to keep the Krampus under control, it was heritage and tradition that forced the need to deliver toys to children all over IGNOLand. It had become a social obligation…a practice that was not easily abolished by that point. And after what I had done to Cross in order to find myself in this position, there was only so much I could do. My life’s work would now revolve around that one important night of the year, and I would have to spend the rest of the year, every year for the rest of my life, preparing for it. And all I would gain from this unbridled generosity was the adoration and love of millions.

That’s when it hit me. If I couldn’t avoid my fate of becoming Santa Claus…perhaps I could change what it meant to be Santa Claus. Father and mother were both gone. Cross would never return. Any and all authority on what it meant to be ‘Christmas’ had now fallen onto my shoulders. I had grown up in an environment where I was never acknowledged as myself, but this was my chance – to spin Christmas, Christmas itself, into something all my own. To shape the tired old traditions into something I could be proud to call mine. No longer would I have to steal ideas from someone else to be recognized – this brave new Christmas would be something I could proudly claim to truly be my own.

I would turn Christmas into a proper business.

I skillfully made use of Father’s old connections, starting with the very man to whom Father spoke those hurtful words all those years ago. By now, he was an old man himself, having passed the family business to his own child. I made my connections with her, a girl about my age…you may know her as Mrs. Claus. That’s right – we hit it off and later married. Of course, it wasn’t a marriage based on love, like Father’s had been…but purely from a practical business standpoint. The marriage benefited her family, and it benefit me. That was all that mattered back then, nothing like today with all these ‘equal rights’ flying all over the place…this marriage set me up in an ideal position from which I was able to expand my contacts and form new connections, building my own network of mutually-beneficial relationships.

Like my father had done, I would provide toys to various stores – except in my case, I would keep a cut of the profits for myself. I could then use those profits to finance bigger businesses, and watch my network grow and grow!! And as my fortune increased, I could expand my network further still – even the most stubborn contacts will bend with a little good ol’ fashioned bribery.

As the times changed, so did business. Small locally-owned stores became multi-national corporations. No longer did we deal strictly in toys, either – there’s only so much business in children!! By expanding to include all manner of goods, from appliances to electronics, to books and music and furniture and just about everything under the sun, we could reach the largest potential audience. Christmas wasn’t just for children anymore – everyone wanted in on the action. And who wouldn’t? With just a simple letter to the North Pole, they were practically guaranteed the item they desired more than anything underneath their tree come morning, wrapped up in a neat little bow.

But not everyone was content with just receiving…people wanted to give, too. But Santa didn’t let that opportunity slip by him, either, ho ho ho no. Buying goods throughout the year, then selling them back for a higher price when the holiday season rolled around…but slapping a ‘discount’ sticker on it to make it seem cheaper than usual!! People would flock to the stores to buy up whatever they could to stuff their stockings, just to make themselves feel good about giving to their loved ones. It was so easy!!

“And just like that…in no time at all, Christmas had been completely transformed by my vision. And now look around you – commercials encouraging people to buy buy buy fill the airwaves. Wouldn’t want to leave your loved ones disappointed, would you? Fortunately for you, there’s plenty of time to secure the best gifts for your family, because Christmas shopping season comes earlier and earlier each year!! A little at a time, my empire is ever-expanding!! And all it takes is the occasional under-the-table tie-in deal…kok really makes the world go round, as they say!! Hoooo ho ho ho ho!!”

Santa kept laughing…SG2 felt sick to her stomach. All this time…all this time, they’d busted their asses and risked their lives for the sanctity of the Christmas spirit – the true Christmas spirit – while this guy just sat back in his comfortable mansion, profiting off their hard work…while all the while no one knew the truth. Santa was still seen by the public as a benevolent figure…someone who gave from the kindness of his heart, and got nothing in return. And this…this…!!

“There’s just…one thing I don’t understand…” Karma said, finally breaking through the sound of his ho-ho-hoing.

“And that is?”

“This shift in Christmas has taken place over the course of hundreds of years. Even Cross was, supposedly, trapped for centuries, and you’re the one who trapped him…and yet earlier in your story, you repeatedly called yourself human. And it sounds as though your father died a natural death as well.” Karma glared at Santa, who only grinned in response. “Just…how have you managed to live for so long…?”

“Ho ho ho…I was wondering when you’d ask.” Santa took another long puff on his pipe and blew the smoke straight into Karma’s face. “Try to remember what happened when that imbecile Cross managed to get the drop on me and steal Christmas. …oh, that’s right…you were absent that year. Very well, perhaps a recap is in order…”

SG2 wanted to groan – more long-winded flashbacks, and this time to stuff she already knew about?! But she couldn’t complain – the longer Claus wanted to talk, the longer they ought to let him. All of this was buying precious time for Bones to notice they hadn’t called back, after all…!!

My brother, Cross…after I sealed him away in the Christmas Dimension, he spent hundreds of years just rotting away in there, unable to escape. …well, no. Perhaps that’s not entirely accurate. First of all, what we call ‘The Christmas Dimension’ is nothing so specific…it’s just an ordinary hole on space-time. You could think of it as another dimensional plane, or perhaps just a void of nothingness that exists just outside of this one. Like a one-way mirror, residents of that void can see into our world, though they can’t interact with it directly…however, those of us on this side cannot see into it. As far as the average person is concerned, it doesn’t even exist. That is, unless you know how to open up a portal between the two…however, by all rights, this shouldn’t be possible. Even the greatest mages of all time have wasted their long lives away studying the secrets of dimensional travel, and none have ever supposedly figured it out. And yet, I have explicit proof that it is, in fact possible.

Of course, I’m no mage…I’m able to make use of the Christmas Magic, sure, but that’s not really the same thing as the actual arcane arts. I wouldn’t be able to make something like that in my wildest dreams, but fortunately I’d never have to. As you all know, this magic sack of mine isn’t the ‘bottomless bag of holding’ it’s usually portrayed as. It’s actually a sort of handheld portal into that void. I don’t know who created it, or how, but this was one of the magic artifacts my ancestor Kristof Kringle discovered in his travels during his many years as an adventurer. It’s been passed down in my family for generations, originally little more than a curiosity, an heirloom…until my great grandfather saw its potential in the delivery of toys. Incidentally, he’s also the one who learned how to make reindeer fly with piski dust, though like the elf thing I don’t really know the specifics behind that story, so don’t ask. Either way, he realized that we could stuff all the presents inside this strange space and never have to worry about unnecessary load on the sleigh, and we’ve been using it that way ever since – hence the term, ‘Christmas Dimension’.

But in reality, it’s just…a blank, white world. A void. Nothingness. To tell the truth, even I feel unnerved whenever I’m there. You remember Krampus’ plan from last year, yes? To trap me inside this dimension and seal the bag for all eternity, preventing my escape. I will give him credit, because this was the one plan he very nearly could have gotten away with. If he had simply tied the bag tight and thrown it into storage, I may never have found my way back. Once you’re in there, you begin to feel this inexplicable sense of disorientation. You can be looking right at the portal from which you entered, but fear that even taking a step away could leave you lost forever. If you knew how unsettling it could be, you’d understand why even someone like Cross would go mad after spending centuries in there.

“But I thought Bradios and the others went to that realm…isn’t that where Cross trapped you? I thought I heard that they jumped into a strange glowing book and found themselves in another dimension, and had to fight some guardians, or something…” SG2 asked, her knowledge of the specifics a bit hazy since she was on the other team during the incident.

“Oh no, the place where Cross trapped me was the Realm of the Ancients. Another place entirely, unrelated to Christmas.”

“So…we’re not gonna get a whole lengthy backstory on this Realm of the Ancients…?” Karma asked tentatively.

“Nope.”

“Alright, but what about the library under IGNO City? Supposedly that’s where Cross was trapped, and there were hints that he may have even written all the books contained there. But ever since he was freed, we’ve been able to travel freely between that library and the city…”

“I don’t know the specifics myself, but realistically that place should have been nothing but endless stretches of void. I have heard of this library, though I’ve not seen it for myself. I can only assume that my brother built it entirely on his own, expanding it around himself as far as he could, for all that time. That place almost has a will of its own. If he wanted for paper or ink, or even the shelves themselves, I’m sure they were readily supplied to him.”

“…look, we’re getting pretty off-topic here, so I’m just going to leave well enough alone on how weird that is.” SG2 said. “But if I understand what you’re saying and think back on what happened that time, basically Cross managed to find a portal to escape through after centuries of being trapped there, and tracked down that weird Christmas artifact thing…which he absorbed into himself and grew huge, just like Krampus always seems to do.”

“That’s it.” Santa raised his index finger. “That artifact is the key. Yet another one of the many magical items Kristof Kringle had once possessed…although this one had been sealed away. Took me quite a bit of effort to find, too…and I hear there are even more of these magic items, some of them taken back to the Nordlands where they interred his body. Only a few still exist in IGNOLand…and some have been lost even to me.”

“But…what is it exactly…?” Karma had gotten the hang of this game by now, spurring Santa on to tell them more for the sake of buying time. For someone who insisted he was too genre-savvy to divulge his master plan, he seemed to be enjoying himself.

“I know even less about that object than I do about the magic bag. What I do know is that it ‘collects’ energy from an outside source and stores it. That collected energy builds up and can be absorbed by…well, probably anyone, really. Anyone who knows how to tap into its energy flow. It just happens that I’m the only one who knows where it’s hidden now, so only I can do that. And before you ask how that Krampus is able to benefit from it too, think about it on your own for a minute. Krampus and I are bound by my family’s curse. As long as that curse links our lifelines, he cannot die, nor can he kill me. I don’t know the specifics – obviously he’s never killed me, nor I him, so it’s not like I have a lot of hands-on experience. But if the reason for the curse is related to our life force, it would stand to reason that he’d absorb a fraction of the power that flows into me. Aggravatingly enough, it seems to be split between us evenly down the middle – 50/50. As long as he’s around, even I can’t take full advantage of the artifact’s power – but that’s okay, as I’ve found my own ways to exploit it.”

“Exploit it?”

“As I said…it collects energy from an outside source, and stores it. I won’t go into the specifics, as it’s rather complicated and not something you need to know before I kill you, but let’s just say that source can be…reprogrammed. And the source I chose to absorb energy from is–”

“Belief.”

For the first time, Santa actually looked shocked. It seemed this was one fact he hadn’t expected the IGNOites to pick up on.

“…very good. Yes…what we’ve dubbed the ‘Christmas Artifact’, and ‘Christmas Magic’, is once again not inherently related to Christmas or my family at all. It’s just another fancy magic item ol’ Kristof once found, and one that has proven quite useful indeed. As you surely know, my father and his father before him refined the image of ‘Santa Claus’ to where it stuck in the public consciousness. Though fame was never their intention, the concept of ‘Santa Claus’ became iconic of the holiday…before that, Christmas was little more than IGNOLand’s cultural twist on Wintertide.

Now, this image of Santa Claus is synonymous with Christmas itself. There are even people out there who refer to Santa as ‘Father Christmas’ and other such things. Over time, that image developed into an icon – the jolly fat man with the white beard and red suit who slides down chimneys and delivers toys to children while flying in a sleigh pulled by magic reindeer. As a very symbol of the holiday itself, Santa is beloved by everyone, children and adults alike. They hang ornaments from their trees with my image. They sing songs about me. Cartoons. Movies. Calendars. You can’t go anywhere in December without seeing my face plastered all over everything!!”

“And when you realized that the image your father and grandfather unknowingly cultivated had become so widely-known…you saw the potential to market yourself and earn money just by virtue of being Santa Claus. All the while using the power of people’s belief in you to fuel your empire…”

“Hooo ho ho ho!! You’re not as dumb as you look, little tiger. You’ve hit the nail on the head.” Santa spread his arms wide. “All of this you see before you is my empire, and I am its king. You see, I realized something. No one ever appreciated me for me. Only when I stole my brother’s toy design did I gain appreciation and recognition. I spent so many years lamenting my own lack of originality and innovation…

But then it hit me. Who needs originality? I used the connections my father established to expand my business contacts. I used the image he had cultivated as a holiday icon to spread belief in me. I used the magic artifacts left behind by Kristof to increase my power. I dope up the reindeer with piski dust and they pull my sleigh at record speed – I barely even need to steer!! I’ve built an elaborate system of corporate deals and underground exchanges to further push the Santa Claus image into the minds of the people, while the elves work year-round buying surplus goods, ‘enhancing’ them with cheap parts, and selling them back during the Christmas shopping season for twice the cost!! And when they inevitably break down, and people have to run out and buy another one, I see a profit from that too!! Everything I’ve built is the result of skillful manipulation of someone else’s work – Hell, I’ve even made use of you to keep that idiot Krampus off my back during the one night of the whole year I have to do any actual work!! Originality is meaningless – I barely lift a finger, and the kok rolls in like a Christmas miracle!! HOOOO HO HO HO HO HO!!!”

At this point…SG2 and the others no longer had anything left to say. Even for the sake of buying more time…they were just too disgusted. The IGNOites were long used to spending their Christmases in a less than ideal way, tangling with the literal darker side to the holiday so often, but this was something else entirely. The things Santa Claus himself was owning up to…and proud of, to boot. He was actually…worse than the Krampus. Then it occurred to SG2 that the reason Bones had sent them here in the first place was because Linda had tipped him off. Linda was very close to the Krampus…perhaps this wasn’t a trap after all, but a warning. A warning that there are always greater monsters lurking where you’d least expect them…

“Well…I suppose that about wraps up our little story time, don’t you think?” Santa finally rose to his feet, kicking the stool he’d been sitting on aside with disinterest. “I’ve answered all your questions, even cleared up the things you didn’t ask. I hope this at least can grant you peace in death. …aw, who am I kidding? I couldn’t care less!! Ho ho ho!! Time to die!!”

The generals pointing their rifles all this time must have been for show, to up the tension, because at that moment Santa pulled a gun of his own from a holster at his hip. Compared to the festive arms of his footsoldiers, however…it really was just an ordinary handgun. It further served to highlight the sense of disconnect between the ideal Santa Claus represented…and the man he really was once the facade of magic and holiday cheer was stripped away. Standing over them right now was just an evil man pointing a gun, fully ready to take their lives. And then…he aimed that gun at SG2…and smiled.

“Don’t feel bad. I’ll give my regards to the rest of your friends later. You’ll see them very soon, when their bodies are lying cold beneath your tree.”

“OH HELL NAW. FUCK THE TREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!!!”

At that moment, the wooden door was kicked down…no, that wasn’t quite accurate. The wooden door was shattered to pieces by a Flying Centaur Kick. Santa, who had stood with the door to his back, was quickly knocked over as one of the heavy wooden shards slammed into the back of his head. The once-confident elf generals ducked into the corners of the room to avoid the flying debris, their weapons falling to the ground as they frantically covered their heads. Snow and cold air blew into the room, creating a suitably dramatic effect…and when the mist cleared, standing in the path of their doorway to freedom was Atlas.

“Hurry up, we don’t have much time!!” Atlas pointed towards Santa’s twitching body – he was down, but not out.

“We can’t!! He’s got us bound by these stupid enchanted ropes…not to mention Reese!!” Karma nodded her head in the direction of the cage. “Believe me, if we could get out of here on our own, we would have done it by now!!”

“Not a problem!!” Another familiar voice rang out and a tall man quickly dismounted his centaur companion. It was Bradios!! “My laser attachment can burn through any kind of rope, enchanted or not!!”

As Brad raced over to where Karma and SG2 sat bound, Atlas drew two guns from the holsters at his front hips. With a practiced flair, he fired off two shots, cleanly breaking the lock to Reese’s cage. Within seconds the kitsune was free to race across the room and begin tearing at the clothing of one of the elf generals with his sharp teeth.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! I-I DON’T CARE ABOUT GETTING OVERTIME ANYMORE, I’M OUT OF HERE!!!”

The elf crawled frantically across the floor and kicked his way to the exit, making a mad dash half-naked into the snow. The other three quickly followed. But Reese’s goal hadn’t simply been revenge for being locked up – as he grasped the familiar silver necklace in his teeth, there was a flash of light…and there stood the humanoid Reese, in his familiar male form.

“Phew!! You don’t know how many times I wanted to be the one to interrupt Santa’s story – you guys got way too many lines!!”

“Uh, speaking of Santa…” SG2 pointed nervously to the pile of rubble just beside them as the man in red slowly struggled to his feet. “We should probably get moving!!”

“Just one…more…second…!! There!!”

Brad’s laser had just finished cutting through Karma’s ropes, and the two were back on their feet within seconds. Karma made sure to grab her helmet that lay abandoned in the corner first, but the trio and their saviors wasted no time at all leaving the broken barracks behind.

But it wasn’t over yet – the guards were already on high alert, and this time they wouldn’t bother with live capture – they’d be shooting to kill!! SG2 clambered up Atlas’ body and held tight to his back as the centaur ran faster than the wind. Karma had already whistled for Fluffyfang, and with any luck he’d be there in a matter of moments…but even a single moment was a moment too long, as alarms began blaring throughout the complex.

“ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL!! REPORT TO THE FRONT GATE IMMEDIATELY!! DO NOT LET THE INTRUDERS ESCAPE!!“

Santa’s voice boomed over the loudspeaker…and then, the floodgates were opened. Elf workers began pouring out of every entrance by the dozen. Though not all of them were armed, it would nonetheless be difficult to break through them all without slowing down – and pausing for even a second could have meant the difference between life and death!!

“You know, there’s something about this place that really bugs me…” Atlas mused as he continued to run through the buildings in a zig-zag pattern, desperately trying to avoid the teeming sea of elves. “There is just way too much…WOOD!!”

Bang!! Bang!! Atlas’ arms moved as fluidly as his legs, his guns spitting fire at the buildings as they ran past. SG2 had noticed it earlier, when they first broke into the warehouse – despite the various high-tech elements of Santa’s well-oiled holiday machine, it had seemed that nearly every building in the complex was made of wood. Perhaps it was because it was an easy to gather material up here in the Ice plains, or perhaps it was simply a holdover from the days when his father was in charge…it almost certainly wasn’t just for the sake of old-world charm. The broken board at the warehouse even showed that Santa didn’t spend much of his heaping bags of money on maintenance, either – if the rest of these old buildings were as worn down as that, they’d burn easily!!

“FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRE!!!”

Screams of terror filled the skies as the elves now panicked, surrounded in every direction by the steadily spreading flames. And with so many of them, there was nowhere to run – with every step, they’d crash into someone else, and the panic would only increase!! The elves may have been efficient workers, but they clearly didn’t know how to handle themselves in a crisis like this…and it was doubtful that Santa ever cared enough about workplace safety to have so much as a single fire drill. The workers literally had no idea how to handle this situation…meanwhile, the blaze continued to leap from building to building, consuming the entire workshop in burning fury. It was the Faeland Incident all over again.

“Whoa, good job, Atlas…how did you know a little fire would spread this much chaos?”

“I didn’t…I just fucking hate the trees and anything made from them.”

“…”

Well, regardless of his reasons, this fire may have just saved their skins…at least, as long as those skins didn’t stick around to burn down with the rest of the place. Fluffyfang had already come and swooped down for Karma and Reese, while Bradios had managed to hop back onto Atlas amidst the confusion. Santa must have been furious…his entire precious ’empire’ was in flames, and he had no contingency plan for dealing with a situation of this scale. With no way to properly fight it, the fire would consume his entire workshop, and all his ill-gotten kok and sensitive business documents would no doubt go down with it. Well, all of them, except for…

“There it is – the gate!! Hold on tight, because I’m gunnin’ for it – hope you guys like riding bareback!!”

SG2 and Brad groaned as Atlas could never resist the innuendo when people rode on his back. Still, there was no harness or saddle or any safety equipment at all – and a centaur even just approaching top speed was much faster than an ordinary horse. The fire had already spread to the fence surrounding their only exit…while Karma and Reese were safe high up in the sky, this was their last shot to come out of the blaze alive!!

Atlas began to gradually pick up speed…fortunately, the elves had long since cleared the area, so there was nothing standing in his way as he ran down the straight paved path to freedom. All the while, the flames drew closer and closer to the wooden arch that read ‘North Pole’ mounted just over the exit…and then, it fell. It cracked and splintered under the intense heat and fell to the ground below, only to combust completely!! A huge wall of flame now stood blocking their only way out – but Atlas was undeterred!! He continued to pick up speed, his hooves practically on fire themselves as he tore through the snow-dusted road…and then…he leapt…!!

At that moment, SG2 almost regretted choosing Atlas over Fluffyfang…because at least Fluffyfang knew how to fly. Atlas had picked up so much speed that his jump propelled him high in the air…they had managed to clear the fire and escape the workshop, but they still had to worry about gravity!!

“Whoops…sorry guys, that’s never happened before…”

It seemed that even Atlas wasn’t quite sure what to do next as they plummeted closer and closer to their imminent doom…however, Bradios didn’t seem to be worried at all. He pulled out some sort of strange device from his pocket and began scanning it all over Atlas’ body…and then…they seemed to be…slowing down…? They were still falling, but instead of picking up more and more speed as they accelerated towards splattery death, they seemed to be slightly drifting as softly as the snowflakes…until finally, they crashed into a pile of snow, completely unharmed.

Karma and Reese, riding atop Fluffyfang, landed nearby as the trio recovered from their unexpected bit of turbulence.

“Ptoo!! Unbelievable…I show myself in human form for the first time, and I still end up with a face full of the white stuff!!”

“Heh, just like xL on a Saturday…no, on any night!!” Bradios quipped. SG2 shot him a glare.

“That’s my joke…”

“Wait, did you say human form?”

“Uh, I mean, good joke, Brad!!”

Atlas had also managed to get back on his feet relatively unharmed, dusting the snow off his body with his hands and tail.

“Whoa…how did you do that, Brad?”

“Oh, this? Quantum Decelerator. I just scanned your body and decreased your speed so you could land safely.”

“That doesn’t sound all that realistic…” said SG2, skeptical.

“This is IGNOLand. What does?”

“Fair point.”

“At any rate…” Karma stuffed her helmet back into Fluffyfang’s saddlebag and resetting her armor’s coloration – there was no need for disguises anymore. “How did you guys even find us? Your rescue timing was awfully convenient for you to just have happened to be in the area…”

Atlas and Bradios looked at each other and chuckled.

“Uh, well,” Brad said with a shrug, “we kinda did just happen to be in the area. Of course, there’s more to it than just that.”

“I was actually heading out on my annual Christmas tree burning crusade. It’s one of the many duties of a Priest of Flamehoof the Burner, patron deity of the centaurs, may He burn all trees in your path.” Atlas put his hands together and bowed his head briefly in prayer. “I had just left Centaur City via the Sacred Grove Without Trees, which is part of our monastery, and started going about and burning evergreens. It’s actually one of our tenets – ‘And Lo, did Flamehoof burn the shining pine, and the sun did smile upon his efforts that frosty December morn, and it was Good.’ The last two weeks of December are the only times we’re allowed to burn pines, and I was chosen for that honor today.”

“I had actually just come down from the Banks to gather some trees myself. The people of the Neutral Nation celebrate Christmas, too, so we usually have a big party where we decorate Christmas trees and stock the fireplace for a nice traditional feel. It’s a great way to break up the usually tech-heavy way of life we have up there. We don’t usually do it until the 25th, but since we didn’t expect to be doing the usual party with you guys and Bones this year I thought it would be a good time to come pick out some good trees and firewood to bring back. That’s when I bumped into Atlas…and when I realized he was trying to burn down all the trees I needed to collect, I chased after him…”

“And you just happened to find us trapped in Santa’s workshop…?” Reese, now in his male form, wore a skeptical look on his face.

“No way, that’d be way too convenient!!” Brad laughed. “We just happened to be together and in the area when we got Bones’ text.”

“Bones’…text?”

“We were surprised, too, since you guys said he wasn’t really in the mood for a Christmas party. But what we thought was a notice of the change in plans was actually an emergency alert…”

“He was brief and to the point. Said that you guys went to the North Pole and hadn’t reported back to him at the arranged time. Said that everyone who got the message should reply-all back immediately with their location, and that whoever was closest needed to find them ASAP. We figured it probably had something to do with Krampus…but Santa…?”

“When did you realize it was Santa who’d captured us?”

“Well, things started to seem a little fishy as soon as we passed through the North Pole’s gate.” Brad sat down on a stone as he continued. “Wouldn’t there normally be guards posted all over the place, especially at the gate? But they were nowhere to be found. Only later did we realize they were actually gathered in one place…”

“The barracks.”

“Right. Not just the ones inside, but there were others waiting outside, too, probably as backup in case anything happened. We snuck around and took care of that, though!!” Atlas grinned. “But that wasn’t the only reason we were suspicious. As we walked around searching for where you might be, we saw a lot of weird things.”

“Weird things? But we didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary when we first searched the complex…” Karma mused.

“Really? What about the reindeer? They were clearly in pain…looked like he was drugging them with something, probably so they could pull the sleigh faster. Their breathing was unnatural, and you could see the fear in their eyes. The dirt in their pen was also all turn up, and bits of the fence were broken off all around, like they’d be stomping around, irritated. You didn’t notice?”

“Not at all.”

“Huh. Maybe that’s a human thing.”

“I’m a vampire.”

“Eh, same thing. You guys aren’t in tune with nature, or whatever.”

Karma thought that was an interesting remark from the guy who had been gleefully running around lighting trees on fire, but decided it was better not to get into it.

“I also used my Z-Ray Scanner to look through the walls of the buildings, to see if we could spot you.” Brad pulled another odd device out of his pocket. “When I looked inside the factory, even just a glance was enough to tell me the conditions were horrible…those larger elves were bossing the smaller ones around, kicking them and demanding they work faster.”

“Actually, with all the chaos I forgot to mention it earlier, but I saw similar things myself.” Karma reminded the others that she had used her Shadowstep to infiltrate the factory. “They weren’t just making toys, either. Some were sewing clothes until their fingers bled, others were building machines that in no way looked safe, and there was no moderation at all. They were just told to work as fast as possible and make more and more if they didn’t want to disappoint Santa. There was even a laboratory wing where…well, I didn’t even want to go inside there. The screams I heard were enough. Probably some kind of cosmetic testing being done on live patients.” Karma shuddered – if it was bad enough to get under even her skin, it must have been disturbing. “I actually figured that was plenty of evidence and was on my way back…when SG2 tripped that alarm, and I lost my focus.”

“I get it, already, you don’t need to keep reminding me…” The tiger rubbed the back of her head with a sullen look on her face. “Oh, and before you blame me for setting off the alarm, maybe you should take a look at what I grabbed from the vault before I did.”

SG2 reached into the pocket of the SG2Tiger Suit she was apparently still wearing and pulled out some crumpled paper, handing them off to Karma and Reese, who then shows them to Atlas and Bradios.

“It’s mostly just the stuff he already told us about, but…”

“Piski Dust trafficking…says here that stuff is actually highly illegal even in the Wayward Woods because of the detrimental side-effects, ranging from destructive irritability and insomnia to outright brain damage from prolonged usage…”

“And down here there’s an warranty request for replacement reindeer. Cites ‘inability to handle job requirements’ as a reason behind the ‘defective goods’. So, what…the original reindeer died from Piski Dust overdose, and Santa’s trying to save a few bucks on replacements by cashing in on the warranty? This is disgusting. It’s just like Atlas said.”

“The list of his crimes just goes on and on. Three pages on various black market dealings alone!!”

“Mhm. And that’s just what I managed to grab. That vault of his had shelves filled to the brim with papers just like these.”

“Actually, SG2…how did you manage to smuggle out those papers? Didn’t they search you when they tied you up?”

“Maybe they just assumed she was naked?” Reese chimed in, pointing at the SG2Tiger suit.

“Wait, you mean…IT REALLY DOES WORK?! I KNEW IT!!” SG2 jumped up and down excitedly. “Maybe Bones just got lucky!!”

The others exchanged awkward glances. Sure, they could all see clear as day that she was just wearing a cheap striped hoodie with her face on it, but they decided to let her have her moment.

“At any rate, we should keep moving. Those fires will only stall them for so long – after all this, there’s no way Santa’s gonna just let us get away easily.” Karma hopped up on Fluffyfang’s back, followed by Reese. “You coming, SG2?”

“No thanks…I’m not getting on that giant flying deathtrap again. I feel a lot safer down here on the ground, thanks.” …or so she said, before climbing atop Bradios’ shoulders. Funny how the tiger who supposedly hated heights always chose the tallest IGNOite in the vicinity to ride on piggyback-style.

“Well, I was actually going to get on the bat and give Atlas a break, but I guess I’m stuck down here as well.” Brad smiled sheepishly. “Do you mind if I ride you again, Atlas?”

“Nah, it’s no problem. Long as you’re cool with–”

“”“Riding bareback.””” Everyone groaned.

“Geez, way to steal my thunder, guys…where are we headed, anyway?”

“Good question…we can’t exactly go back to the castle, or anywhere obvious Santa might think to look for us…” Karma pondered it over. “The Ice Plains are huge. He can’t possibly search the whole of it, least of all in this weather – not even a magic sleigh and some doped-up reindeer would be enough for that. Maybe we should just keep moving and try to gain as much distance from the North Pole as possible. Oh, and you guys will need to hide your tracks…not much good if he can just follow the hoof-prints in the snow.”

“Not a problem!! I’ll spray my portable snow machine behind us to cover over them.” Brad excitedly pulled yet another strange machine from his pocket.

“Where do you keep getting this stuff…?” SG2 asked, dumbfounded.

“¯\_(ツ)_/¯”

“Alright, everybody ready? Try not to lose sight of each other!!”

Karma shouted down from Fluffyfang’s back as he began to ascend, and Atlas responded with a thumbs up. There were still a few hours left before dawn – by then, with the increased visibility, they would be easier to find. They needed to get as far away as possible before that time. They just had to keep moving for now…SG2 managed to fire off a quick ‘Santa went crazy, we’re safe, will talk later’ text to Bones before Atlas started galloping at a steady clip…and then, she held onto Brad’s shoulders as the fivesome rode together into night.