The Longest Night

The heroines of the Starforged Sagas gather at a home in Chicago to celebrate the coming of Christmas. Little do they know, there's a special guest in their midst with a little secret.

T’was more than a week before Christmas and all through the house everybody was stirring because a gathering was about… to happen.

Laura and Kristen had been hard at work most of the day making sure refreshments were appropriately festive. They’d been baking cookies and popcorn balls. They had prepared a sheet of fudge. They had chilled the sparkling apple cider. They had made a mess that their daughters Hannah and Madison complained about being asked to clean up. Olivia had grabbed a broom and begun to haphazardly sweep without being asked.

Marian and Týr lounged in the family room, discussing old traditions. Koda, having run around the backyard with Olivia much of the day, was content to curl up on the carpeted floor of the family room near the two adults and sleep.

Lights blinked in random patterns on the exterior of the house, having been meticulously strung up three days after Thanksgiving. A festive wreath hung on the front doors. The formal living room / parlor had been decorated with care. The six-and-a-half-foot tall fake plastic tree had been set up and dressed in a central place in front of the window toward the street. A small assortment of wrapped presents were carefully placed beneath its branches. A garland had been strung along the faux mantle with the inlaid electric “fireplace”. The family’s stockings were hung along its length. A single sprig of mistletoe hung in the archway separating the formal room from the foyer.

Just when all seemed settled, the doorbell chimed throughout the house. There was chaos for a half second before Týr volunteered to be the welcoming committee. He’d elected to wear large black boots and red wool pants with suspenders, so he certainly was trying to convey a certain vibe. He gingerly grasped the doorknob with his metal hand and swung the wooden door open to reveal a brunette with hazel eyes.

A familiar smile formed on her face. “Hey, there, big guy! Been a while!” She nearly leapt the small distance between she and Týr to wrap her arms around him in a hug. “Where’s the Girl Scout?”

Týr smiled and reciprocated the hug. “Is good seeing you, Jenna. Kristen is baking.”

Jenna stopped and looked at the large nordic man with an unsure expression. “She bakes, too? What can’t that girl do?” She spun about and grabbed the handle of her rather large suitcase and wheeled it across the threshold. Her eyes scanned the home’s interior. “Wow… gorgeous house and spared no expense on the garlands.”

Kristen’s head peeked at the two from the kitchen. There seemed to be a light sheen of flour in her hair. “Oh, hey, Jenna! Thanks for coming! Make yourself at home. Týr can give you a little tour, if you like.”

“Since when do you bake, Blue?” Jenna stuck her tongue out at Kristen. “Feliz Navidad, by the way.”

“I don’t bake. I’m Laura’s assistant. She’s teaching me.” Kristen rolled her eyes. “Always with the Spanish lessons.” Her head disappeared back into the kitchen. “Merry Christmas to you, too, Señora Mills!”

Jenna wheeled her suitcase into the parlor and leaned it against one of the couches. Before she could deposit her coat in the same place, Týr gently took it from her to hang it in the foyer. For the next few minutes, he escorted her to the family room and introduced her to Kristen’s mother and dog. Before he got a chance to introduce the daughters, the doorbell chimed once more.

Týr nearly pranced toward the door, swinging it open. He was greeted by a young blonde woman and a strawberry blonde girl half her height standing next to her. They both smiled at him and crossed the threshold.

“Hey, Týr. Good to see you.” The woman greeted him cordially. She motioned to the child. “This is Chloe, my little girl.” She turned her attention. “Chloe, this is one of my friends, Týr. He’s from Iceland.”

Chloe’s eyes lit up. “That’s pretty close to the North Pole, isn’t it? Do you know Santa?”

The adults in the vicinity chuckled.

Týr lowered himself to the girl’s level and lowered his volume. “Perhaps. Perhaps no.” He winked at her. He stood full once again and returned his gaze to the woman. “She is lovely, Lauren.”

“She definitely gets that from her mother.” Lauren chuckled, taking Chloe’s cold weather outerwear. “Sweetie, why don’t you go find Olivia and ask Aunt Laura if there’s anything you can help with?”

“Okay, Dad!” Chloe confirmed, then proceeded to dart down the corridor screaming her friend’s name. “Livvy!”

Týr raised an eyebrow at Lauren. “She does not think of you as a mother?”

“It’s only been a little more than six months. Give the kid time. Besides, I’m still working out the whole thing, myself.” Lauren sighed.

“Sorry. Did not mean to intrude.” Týr hung his head.

“I know, buddy. It’s fine. Happy Yule, or however you say it.”

Týr smiled once more. “Glaðligr Jól to you as well, friend.”

“I’ll probably never be able to say that. Instead, let’s lubricate our tongues with a little egg nog. You in?”

Týr nodded and the two moved toward the kitchen as the soundtrack of excited preteen girl screaming played in the background. Before he could indulge in the rich seasonal beverage, the doorbell chimed again. He offered an apology before turning from the kitchen to answer the door once more. Once again, he gingerly took hold of the knob and opened the door. Two young women were revealed. One was quite short with dark ginger hair. The other was only marginally taller, had a darker complexion, and hair as dark as the night. She also seemed to be shivering much more than might be considered normal.

“Saoirse and Mariana! I am glad to be seeing you!” He exclaimed.

Mariana, the darker complexioned one, slid past Týr and let herself into the house. “Good to see you, buddy, but I was freezing out there! How do you people live this far north?!”

Saoirse giggled, sharing a hug with Týr. “Good to see you, Sasquatch.” She turned her attention to the shivering one. “We’re used to it and actually bring clothes that keep us warm.” Taking off her coat, she turned back to the large Scandinavian man. “You should have seen it! She landed at LaGuardia in a tank top, shorts, and flip-flops! I had to make a quick trip over to Ditmars Steinway to the TJ Maxx to bring her here safely.”

“At least you got the right sizes,” Mariana mumbled.

“How could we have spent almost two months on a boat together washing each other’s laundry and not know everybody’s clothing sizes?” Saoirse shook her head. “One question, though: if you can survive the temperatures deep below the ocean’s surface, which are on average much colder than this weather, how do you even feel this?”

“I have to be wet for it to kick in, remember? I’m not about to go rolling in the snow, soaking my body and clothes, just to not feel the cold. I think Kristen and her wife would be a little mad if I sat on a couch.”

“Yea, I guess that checks out.”

Týr, rolling his eyes, escorted the two into the family room with Marian as it seemed the least populated room at that moment. He introduced Marian and the young women. Kristen made a momentary appearance before disappearing somewhere to shower. Koda lifted himself off the carpet and approached with a wary wag of his tail, using his nose to ascertain the threat levels of these new people. Olivia and Chloe screeched as they left the kitchen, ran through the corridor, zipped up the stairs, and excused themselves to Olivia’s room.

From deeper in the house came the muffled clatter of baking trays and overlapping voices, punctuated by laughter and the unmistakable sound of something being dropped and immediately blamed on someone else. A girl’s voice rose in protest, followed by another declaring it “character-building.” It was immediately followed by a mother’s scolding tone instructing them to stop fighting and help clean up the mess.

“Nothin’ like da holidays,” Marian chuckled. “Sure beats everythin’ else dat happened dis year. It’s a nice ‘normal’.”

“Hey, don’t jinx it,” Saoirse protested.

Týr filled his lungs with a long breath through his nose and released it through his smiling mouth. “Jól is this. Is time of peace. Is time of remembering that warm light returns. Is only matter of time.”

Marian nodded. “And a time for rememberin’ that so long as you got family, no one faces the dark alone.”

With wide eyes, Saoirse blinked rapidly. “Wow. Now I see where Kristen gets it.”

As if the doorbell was summoned, it chimed once more. Týr excused himself from the others and turned toward the foyer. His boots softly thudded against the hardwood flooring and his eyes were fixed on the entrance, wondering who else the cold had beckoned in.

The door swung open to reveal a woman that appeared to be in her early forties, roughly the same age as Laura. Her hair was white as fallen snow. Her complexion was clear and similar in color to the innards of an olive. Her eyes and eyebrows were the color of bog mud. To Týr’s mind, she was no taller than Saoirse – though she had an inch on the girl. On her feet were comfortable snow boots. Leggings lined with some manner of fleece or wool encased her legs and tucked into the boots. Her upper body was covered with an oversized red cable-knit turtleneck, green wool scarf, gray wool overcoat, and red leather mittens. Atop her head was a classic red leather and wool cap that reminded him of the jarls of a long gone era. She carried a large red sack slung over her shoulder. Her face was smiling and her eyes seemed to sparkle like freshly fallen snow in the moonlight.

Týr spoke to her in a language older than written word and the Norse people. “~It is good to see you once more, friend. It has been too many winters.~”

She smiled as she entered and set the sack down on the hardwood. She spoke the same language to him. “~It truly has, friend. When last we met you did not have family. I am glad to see that has changed.~”

Týr smiled, helping her with her coat. “~As am I. They have been good to me and I them.~”

She chuckled, rolling her eyes and removing her scarf. “~I knew that before you said it.~” Her eyes wandered about the area, admiring the decorations.

It was then that Olivia and Chloe appeared and their feet clomped while they rushed down the stairs. They both stopped the moment they laid eyes on the woman. Both of their faces filled with awe and wonder at the sight before them. The woman’s gaze fell on them and she smiled brightly.

“Hello, girls. What are your names?” She asked, bending down to their level. “I’m Klasa, an old friend of Týr.”

Olivia spoke first. “I’m Olivia. Olivia Kent. Do my parents know you’re here?”

“Not yet, Olivia, but I was hoping my friend would introduce me.”

“I’m Chloe.” The second girl finally stated. “Why do I feel like I know you?”

Klasa shrugged. “I’ve been told I have one of those faces.”

Chloe pointed at the sack. “Is that yours?”

“It is indeed, Miss Lang. I brought something for everybody.” Klasa nodded firmly.

Chloe’s eyebrows furrowed. “I didn’t tell you my—”

Kristen had emerged from the shower in a gray sweater and blue jeans with cozy, fuzzy slippers on her feet. “Uh, Týr? Who is this? Friend of yours?”

The redheaded man nodded quickly and kept eye contact as Kristen descended the stairs. “Indeed. A friend for many more winters than can be counted. Kristín, meet Klasa.”

Kristen smiled. “Actually, it’s Kristen or just Kris. Týr slips into Icelandic from time to time.” She extended a hand to the guest. “Any friend of his is welcome in this house. Well met, friend.”

Klasa smiled and accepted the handshake. “Well met indeed.”

“We’re going to be settling in and having a get-together with a gift exchange sort of thing before everybody gets super busy over the holidays. You’re more than welcome to join us.” Kristen explained.

“I had planned on it, actually. I brought a present for each person.” Klasa stated plainly.

“That… was not necessary but very kind of you. Thank you. Do you need any help getting it into the parlor?”

Klasa shook her head and chuckled. “No, thank you. I’ve carried much heavier loads than this much further than three meters.”

“All right, then. I’ll check with my wife. We should be getting snacks and things into the parlor before too long.” Kristen turned and headed to the kitchen.

Klasa nodded, hefted the bag over her shoulder once more, and searched for a spot in the parlor to settle into. Meanwhile, the doorbell chimed and echoed through the house. Týr returned to his duties and turned to open the door once more to welcome what he expected to be the final guest for the festivities. A small gust of wind accompanied the opening of the door and new flurries of snow were falling beyond the porch. On said porch stood a young woman with chin-length auburn hair similar in shade to Kristen’s wife, Laura, but without any gray hairs.

She smiled broadly. “Týr! Good to see you, big guy! They’ve got you on hatch detail?”

Týr shrugged and chuckled at the young woman. “No. I volunteer. Is good seeing you, Captain.”

She crossed the threshold and gave him a side hug as the door closed to the cold outside one final time before the festivities. “It’s good to be seen.” She removed the fleece-lined bomber jacket with the light dusting of snow she’d been wearing. “I’ve told you that it’s okay to call me Kara in non-professional situations, Týr. We’re not on a boat in the Mediterranean anymore. It’s my sister and brother-in-law’s place on dry land.”

Týr reciprocated the side hug. “Of course, Kara.”

“So, who’s all here? Did everybody make it?”

“You are the last. Jenna here. Saoirse and Mariana come together. Lauren bring Chloe.”

“Sounds like the gang’s all here.” Her head turned toward the white-haired woman settling into a seat with her sack next to her in the parlor. Their eyes met briefly and a certain, deep understanding was achieved between the two of them. Kara pointed to the woman. “Friend of yours, Týr?”

With gentle pressure, Týr encouraged Kara to step into the parlor. The two of them stopped near the white-haired woman. “Kara, meet Klasa. She is good friend of many winters. Klasa, meet Kara. She is warrior of land, sea, and air.”

Klasa smiled up at Kara and winked. “It’s a pleasure.”

Kara gave the woman a very subtle nod. “It is indeed. I wasn’t sure the big guy had friends besides us. It’s nice to know I was wrong.”

The constant background of chatter and random noise approached the parlor as Laura and Kristen entered carrying the confections they’d labored most of the day preparing. Laura carried a platter of cookies. Kristen carried the popcorn balls. Hannah and Madison brought up the rear with the platter of fudge and a couple cartons of egg nog in hand. Marian soon followed from the hallway to the family room with Koda in tow. The canine left her side and darted toward Klasa with his tail wagging excitedly. He started licking her face as if they were old friends. Kristen observed her dog with a quizzical expression.

“He’s way more cautious than that with new people. You must be someone special. Did you know Koda before I got him?” She questioned the guest.

“In a manner of speaking,” Klasa cryptically answered while jovially stroking the happy canine. “He was someone’s Buddy before you had him.”

Chloe and Olivia settled onto a couch near Klasa. Saoirse and Mariana settled onto the couch opposite them. Jenna settled onto that same couch. Lauren settled in next to the kids. Laura and Kristen settled into two armchairs at the “head” of the room. Kara opted to sit on the back of the couch. Marian settled into an armchair near the window and tree. Týr stood next to Klasa and cleared his throat.

“Glaðligr Jól, everyone. I invite special guest tonight. Guest of honor, you say.” He announced. “Each of you is honorable. Some warriors. Some clan leaders. All friends. You meet Klasa but not know Klasa. I let her speak.”

The white-haired woman almost seemed to blush while she chuckled. “Rousing speech, old friend.” She gently tapped his arm before turning to the gathered crowd before her. Koda, almost sensing important things, sat directly in front of her. “I wouldn’t say I’m any guest of honor, honestly. I simply do my thing. Though none of you expected it, I’ve brought a gift for each of you. After all, it’s the season of giving, isn’t it?”

Klasa reached into the large sack with her right arm and focused on Koda. “You have certainly been a very good boy, this year, Koda. You protected Dontae and stood by him when he was afraid. You’ve given your heart to Kristen when she needed someone the most. You’ve taken care of Marian after the loss of Jonas.” She pulled out a large chewing bone from the bag. Koda was instantly excited. “Merry Christmas, boy.” She handed the bone to Koda who gladly took it in his mouth, then rushed off to a safe spot to start gnawing on it.

Kristen straightened up in her seat and her face bore an expression of curiosity. Kara simply smirked.

Klasa once again reached into her sack. She pulled out four packages, then turned her attention to the preteens in attendance. “Chloe, you have been a very good girl this year. I know it’s probably been tough not having both parents home as they were before. It’s a lot to take in. You’ve been very brave, though, and kept your spirits up.” She handed the girl the first box that was roughly the size of a garment box. “Open this one, first.”

With only slight trepidation, Chloe tore open the red wrapping paper with little cartoon reindeer depicted on its surface in various poses. It appeared to be a garment box, but then she opened that as well. Inside, nestled in loose fleece, was a leather-bound book with hundreds of pages. On the cover, a compass rose was depicted. When she opened it, all pages but the first were completely blank. On the first page, a small pouch had been constructed that held a hand-stitched golden star. Questions played across the girl’s face as she tried to discern the significance.

Klasa smiled warmly. “That is a place to put your thoughts and dreams. The compass can help you find the way. Use the star to help guide you. I hear you’re a bit of an artist, so the pages can hold writing or drawing, whichever you choose.” She grabbed a second box with the same wrapping paper on it. It seemed to be about the size of a half-gallon milk carton. “And, this one. Merry Christmas, Chloe.”

Chloe, still very much intrigued and fully invested, began tearing at the wrapping paper. The unwrapping process loosened the cardboard within to reveal a rather impressive snow globe. The details of the base were ornate and hand-carved. There was some kind of mechanism that needed winding at the bottom. Inside the bowl was a nice winter scene that looked familiar enough to Chicago to work in her mind. When Chloe turned the crank, a sweet lullaby chimed like a music box. Inside the globe, figures stirred. There was a little girl in the middle. From the sides, two non-descript adults slowly joined her. Overtaken, tears formed in Chloe’s eyes and she mouthed the words “thank you”.

Still wearing the warm smile, Klasa nodded to Chloe then turned her attention to Olivia. “You’ve been a good girl this year, Olivia. With all the upheaval in the house, you’ve stayed strong and have continued to help your mom, even without being asked. I know it’s been tough.” Again, she presented a package the size of a garment box. The wrapping paper was blue with little stylized snowflakes on it. “Here’s the first one.”

Olivia gingerly took the package, set it in her lap, and started tearing into it. As with Chloe, there was a garment box lined with loose fleece and a leather-bound book inside. There was no decor on this book, however. It was a photo album that was mostly empty except for the first page. That first page held two photos. The top photo was clearly Christopher Kent in all his glory roughly ten years ago. In his arms was an infant swaddled in a pink blanket with a little pink beanie on her head. The infant appeared to be asleep but Chris looked at the camera with the biggest smile on his face and his eyes twinkling with happy tears threatening to break free. The second photo was of Kristen and Olivia earlier in the fall dressed in matching jeans and sweaters. Olivia’s smile was bright and wide. Kristen was bent down and hugging Olivia from over her shoulders. The smile was the same as the first photo. Olivia looked up at Klasa with questions in her eyes and tears threatening to release.

“It’s a photo album. Fill it with all your favorites, old and new. Memories are there to remind us where we’ve been and show where we could potentially go.” The white-haired woman explained. “Remember where you’ve been and use it to find where you’ll go.” She handed over the second package with the same wrapping paper. It was roughly the size of a shoe box. “And the second one.”

Olivia took the second with a high amount of anticipation. She tore into it. The cardboard collapsed when the paper was removed revealing what appeared to be a handmade plush white fox. While Olivia seemed to like the gift, she couldn’t quite figure out what was going on. She hadn’t asked for such a thing.

“That,” Klasa began, sensing Olivia’s questions, “is a snow fox. Caress its fur. You’ll see it changes from bright white to dark brown depending on the direction you pet it. Interesting creatures, snow foxes. They undergo quite the transformation in the spring and almost become different creatures in order to hide from predators, then change back when the snow falls. It’s a reminder that though some things may change, they always stay the same.”

Laura and Kristen exchanged a glance at that statement.

Olivia ran her hand up and down the back of the plush animal, revealing the dual nature of the coat. She was fascinated. “I’ve never seen a plushy like this! Thank you!”

Klasa smiled brightly. “You’re very welcome. Merry Christmas, Olivia.” She reached into her sack once again and pulled out a large leather bracer with tufts of fur at each end. There was a wolf stylized like what might be seen in Norse artwork embossed on the leather. “I need not explain the significance, friend. You have found your pack. No wolf truly survives alone.”

Týr gingerly accepted the bracer. For perhaps the first time ever in public, those gathered witnessed him shed a tear. “Þakka þér, hollvinkona,” he almost whispered in a language only he and Klasa seemed to understand.

Nodding to Týr, Klasa returned her gaze to the room as a whole. Her eyes fell on the teenagers that were sitting on the floor between the couches and coffee table with all the snacks on top with a smile. With a finger, she beckoned them to approach. Again, she reached into her sack with her right hand. She pulled out a thin, rectangular package with simple green and red striping and a white bow. “Hannah,” She began then took a breath, “I know it’s been a pretty rough year. Being the eldest daughter, sometimes you can feel forgotten or that a lot is laid upon your shoulders. Perhaps, at times, you might even feel like you’re in another’s shadow.” She glanced toward Kristen for a moment before returning her eyes to Hannah and handing over the package. “Through it all, you’ve remained a very good girl. This is for you.”

With questioning and stunned eyes, Hannah took the package and gingerly began tearing it open. The wrapping and bow fell away to reveal a long jewelry box. Slowly opening it, she found a silver necklace with a medium size pendant in the shape of a feather. Once again, her gaze turned to Klasa with questions on her mind.

The white-haired woman smiled. “That, my dear, is a necklace and raven feather cast in sterling silver. It’s hypoallergenic and won’t corrode if you shower with it. In some cultures, the raven is a symbol of memory, observation, knowledge, and wisdom. As you go out into the world, what you have seen, what you have lived, and what you have loved goes with you — not as a burden, but as wisdom that informs the future.”

Slowly beginning to understand, Hannah nodded and smiled. “Thanks.”

Klasa smiled right back. “Merry Christmas, Hannah.” She reached into her sack once more and pulled from it yet another package that looked to be the size of a garment box. The wrapping paper featured red, green, blue, and white stripes with little symbols all over the surface — a rather angular “S” inside a stylized octagon; an angular green “V”; a purple, blue, black, and white stylized spider; a stylized exploding bomb of yellow and bordered in red; an aquamarine coqui frog; a bright blue “Tiwaz” rune; and a soundwave emoji in purple. This caused something of a stir among the people gathered in the room that the symbols applied to, but they were quickly hushed by Klasa as she handed the package to Madison. “You’ve been a good girl this year, Madison. You’ve been something of a guide to those that needed direction. This may help going forward.”

Madison’s eyebrows rose at the sight of the package. She knew the significance of the symbols like the back of her hand. She excitedly took the package and carefully took off the wrapping paper, wanting to preserve it as well as the gift. She pulled out a box from the paper and opened it. Inside sat a leatherbound book labeled “The Book of Heroes” on the front, some loose fleece, and a leather envelope. Opening the envelope that seemed more like something someone might store eyeglasses inside, she found an ornate mechanical pencil with an eraser and plenty of spare lead to write with. Opening the book, she noted a couple hundred pages of dossier-style pages organized somewhat like a character sheet from a tabletop roleplaying game — featuring pseudonyms, lists of powers, areas of operation, and space to fill in other facts. The first few entries were already somewhat filled in with photos, a rudimentary list of powers, and where each heroine primarily operated. They featured Kristen, Jenna, Lauren, Týr, Saoirse, Mariana, and Kara in their heroic personas — uniform and all.

Sucking in a good bit of air quickly, Madison immediately squealed. “This is so cool! Thank you so much!”

Klasa let out a full belly laugh. “Merry Christmas, Madison.”

Lauren spoke up. “Not to spoil the really neat gift, Madison, but remember to keep that analog. In today’s digital world, that information could be data-mined and dangerous. Don’t put it up on your Instagram or any other digital platform, okay?”

Madison rolled her eyes. “I was raised in a digital world, Aunt Lauren. I know how important it is to keep a lot of this information offline.” Her eyes wandered the room, falling on each hero in turn. “I’ll keep it safe, just like I keep all your secrets safe every day.”

Klasa nodded. “She means it, too.” She reached into her sack once more and pulled out a smaller sack of white linen held closed by a blue ribbon. For the first time, she stood and moved through the room before placing the sack in Marian’s lap. “You have been a very good girl this year, Marian. You’ve experienced a loss that cannot be quantified, but you’ve also gained so much. You’ve gained knowledge of your heritage and a new perspective on your child.” She smiled as Marian turned adoring eyes toward Kristen.

As Klasa moved back to her seat, Marian began pulling open the ribbon. As the linen loosened, she discovered a wooden circle with a clasp at one end, a small leather pouch with sewing needles carefully stored inside, a pair of scissors, a small tub of beeswax, a needle minder, a threader, a stabilizer, various pieces of paper, and various bits of thread in a large assortment of colors. There seemed to be a bolt of long, rectangular cloth. Beneath it all, a simple metal object like a candelabra with nine slots for candles, the one in the middle taller than the others. Marian’s eyes turned to Klasa as if to ask many questions.

“You may recognize the embroidery kit — something you actually asked for when you were a teenager.” Klasa began to answer those questions. “The bolt is a table runner. Decorate it as you wish with the kit. The last bit is something called a hanukkiah. It’s traditionally used in Jewish homes to mark the passing of Hanukkah. You’ll learn more about it as you look into your family heritage.” Her smile broadened and Marian’s eyes seemed to tear up. “The first night is the fourteenth, this year. Chag Sameach Hanukkah and Merry Christmas.”

Tears fell down Marian’s cheeks as she examined the contents of the linen sack. Meanwhile, Klasa once again reached into her sack with her right hand. She pulled out something rather fluffy and pink, tied closed with a white ribbon. There seemed to be quite a bit inside. Again, she stood and walked the room, delivering the package to Laura. “You, my dear, have been a very good girl, this year. You’ve juggled your household, your children, your staff at the hospital, and your patients with meticulous care. Your heart is almost too large for your chest.” She set the bundle in Laura’s lap. “Remember to take care of yourself as well. Merry Christmas, Laura.”

Pulling the ribbon, the bow released and the package unfurled. Inside was an assortment of scented soaps, bubble bath, candles, some implements for cleaning oneself, and even some essential oils. The fluffy pink package itself appeared to be a robe. Sifting through the contents, Laura found an onion-shaped, red Christmas ornament that featured a photo of herself, Kristen, Hannah, Madison, and Olivia in the absolute goofiest ugly sweaters together in front of the tree. At first sight of it, she started to tear up and giggle simultaneously. Near crying, she immediately looked at Klasa and mouthed the words “thank you”.

Klasa returned to her seat with a soft nod to Laura. She once again reached into her sack, pulling out a medium-sized package. It was wrapped in paper of black, lavender, and light blue stripes with a white ribbon bow. “And now we’re on to our gathered heroines.” With her left hand, she held out the package. “Saoirse, you’ve been quite the good girl, this year. You’ve gained power and used it responsibly. This one is for you.”

Saoirse stood with some trepidation before taking the package, smoothing her sweater dress underneath her, and sat back down. “Wow… didn’t really think we were getting anything. Thanks.” Without ceremony, she tore into the paper to reveal the box beneath. She opened the box to find a picture frame. It was simple and made of metal. The perimeter was a border featuring dolphins jumping and returning to the water. In the frame was a single photograph featuring herself, the kids of Tír na nÓg Community House, and the proprietress, Eliza Maven. She knew snippets of the significance; thus tears built up in her eyes. Her gaze went to Klasa for answers.

The white-haired woman smiled warmly and nodded. “Dolphins were your mother’s favorite animal, as you well know. One of her last wishes was for you, her child, to know what a loving family was. You have found that and fulfilled that wish. Merry Christmas, Saoirse.”

The dark ginger haired girl held the frame to her chest and cried.

“Wow.” Kara exclaimed. “It’s not easy to shut her up or get her to emote so openly. That’s really special.”

Reaching into her sack once more, Klasa pulled out yet another package the size of a garment box. The wrapping paper was adorned with wide Caribbean green and ocean blue stripes with a mahogany brown ribbon bow. “Mariana, you’ve also been a good girl this year. It’s been a rollercoaster going from discovering your heritage to helping to ferry everyone to a place of absolute devastation. Through it all, you’ve found your people. This is for you.”

With a raised eyebrow, Mariana stood and grasped the package held out for her then returned to her seat on the couch. Overtaken by anticipation, she tore into the paper to find a cardboard box. Opening it, she found actual garments in the garment box. The first was a sleeveless huipil-style tunic with a coqui embroidered on the chest. Along the hems of the arm openings and bottom, the glyph of Yúcahu in a repeating pattern. The coqui was in an indigo blue thread and Yúcahu in an earthy red. Below the tunic, she found a nagua skirt and teared up. The hem was lined with a style of spiral embroidered spirals in the same indigo blue of the coqui on the tunic. She knew these symbols and their significance well.

“They are both made of natural cotton found on many Caribbean islands.” Klasa explained. “The blue embroidery thread was made by Kiskeyan peoples. The red thread was done in achiote dye by some of your people of Borikén. You know the significance of the garments. Feliz Navidad, Mariana.”

Through tears, Mariana’s eyes fell on Klasa. “Gracias por todo. Feliz Navidad.”

Klasa turned once again to her sack. This time, she had to stand as she pulled a rather large package from the sack wrapped in paper with black and denim blue stripes and a deep purple bow. The whole thing stood about two-thirds her height and nearly as wide as her body was. Without much effort, she hefted it up and walked it over to the far end of the couch where Jenna sat. “Though your methods sometimes leave a bit to be desired, your heart is in the right place. This is yours, Jenna. Merry Christmas.”

Glancing at the rest of those gathered as if to search for validation, Jenna turned to the package and looked it over for a moment. In a rush, she tore the wrapping paper and the cardboard holding the shape fell away revealing a self-standing guitar case. Jenna’s eyes lit up as she excitedly opened the case. Inside was an electric guitar she instantly recognized with sparkling purple paint on the body. “No fucking way! A Gretsch G-5135 CVT?! This axe is iconic! Patrick Stump uses one of these!”

“Language, Jenna,” Kristen scolded. “There’s young ones around.”

Spinning to her, Jenna shrugged. “Sorry, Blue. Just got excited. It’s a really cool guitar!” She snapped finger guns in Klasa’s direction. “You’re awesome! Thanks!” She took her spot on the couch back, but couldn’t stop admiring the guitar.

With a nod to Jenna, Klasa reached into her nearly deflated sack once more. She pulled out a rectangular box about the size of the one Hannah had received. It was wrapped in silver and green stripes with a white bow. “Lauren, you’ve been through much. In spite of it, you have done some very good things this year.” She stood and brought the package to Lauren. “This one is yours.”

Lauren took the package gingerly. Chloe looked over her shoulder with curiosity. The wrapping paper came off easily enough to reveal a long, rectangular jewelry box. Opening it, Lauren found a gold necklace with a medium-sized ovular pendant. After being encouraged to open the pendant, she did and found that on one side of the locket was a picture of her wife, Alana, and a photo of Chloe on the other.

“That’s really pretty, Dad. A locket with pictures of me and Mom in it is really something you need.” Chloe stated plainly. “We’re your family.”

Tearing up, Lauren began to understand the significance. She glanced at Klasa. “Thank you.”

Klasa simply smiled warmly. “Merry Christmas, Lauren.” She then turned once again to her sack and pulled out a large, rectangular box. It was smaller than the guitar, but still substantial in size. The paper was striped with very dark blue, gold, and scarlet. There was no bow. She effortlessly carried the package and handed it to Kara. “You’ve been quite good this year, dear. You’ve lost more than many in this room will understand, but your honor, courage, and commitment still stand. This is yours.” She stepped back a few steps.

With a raised eyebrow, Kara set the box on the ground behind the couch, prompting some to peer over the back to observe. Kara tore open the paper and the cardboard fell away to reveal a remote-controlled V-22 Osprey with a custom paint job and remote configuration. At first, her eyes recognized the thrust control lever and control stick of the remote, then the paint on the Osprey. It was the same coloration the Marine Corps used on their aircraft. Her eyes darted to cockpit windows, then to the tail. “This is Delilah.”

A knot formed in Kara’s throat while she took a pause before continuing her description. “I know her tail number like my own social security number. That’s her tail number. The emblem on the tail is the one for VMM-164, the Knightriders. You’ve even got the names of me, my co-pilot, and my crew chief in the right spots.” She turned to look Klasa in the eyes, which was difficult given that Klasa was just slightly shorter than Kara. Kara’s eyes were watery. “I thought I’d never fly her again. The controls are styled like the actual cockpit controls. How did you know?”

Klasa simply grinned. “Merry Christmas, Kara.” She spun on her heel and returned to fish one last thing from her deflated sack. She pulled out a small, rectangular blue-, yellow-, and red-striped package. “And last, but surely not the least…” Her eyes fell on Kristen, the only one that had not been given a gift, yet. “I had to contact an old friend for this. If your mentor has done his job and you know about Grýla, you are aware she does nothing lightly. She agreed to help me because of who you are. Your stories have indeed reached her in her mountain home.” She crossed the room and handed the package to Kristen.

At the mention of Grýla’s name, Týr straightened his stance and balled his metal hand into a fist. “The witch plays not. Be wary, Kristín.”

As Kristen accepted the package, Klasa spun to face Týr. “Fear not, old friend. I am giving the gift, not her. She merely helped in its crafting.”

Watching the exchange between the two, Kristen was wary while slowly opening the gift. After the paper was peeled off, a small case that she knew to usually carry eyeglasses was revealed. Gingerly, she opened the case to find a pair of black, plastic-framed glasses in a contemporary feminine fashion. Her glance returned to Klasa. “Mind explaining this? Why was Týr on edge? Who is this ‘Gr-oo-la’?”

“In modern Iceland, her name is ‘GREE-la’ but I said it in Old Norse because she and Týr are contemporaries. Some of the stories about ‘The Christmas Witch’ are exaggerated, some are not. I needed her abilities to craft those for you. They are not only glasses that will ‘poison’ digital facial recognition AI but will also present your face differently to whomever’s eyes fall on that face. Your face will look different to each person with those on. They will grant you the true anonymity you seek: protecting you from being recognized out of ‘the suit’ and keeping your family safe. With all that you do for everyone else, it is the least I could do for you in particular.”

“You gave my dad real ‘hypno-glasses’?” Madison pointedly asked.

“That’s not how they work, Madison.” Klasa clarified. “They don’t hypnotize. They react with the visual cortex in the brain and alter the image interpretation by slightly altering the electrical impulse frequency.”

“I can’t be the only one that understood that.” Lauren pleaded with the others.

“Don’t worry. You’re not.” Saoirse admitted, eyes wide in awe.

Kristen considered everything said. Her eyes fell on Madison first. “Sweetie, hypno-glasses are a comic book thing that really doesn’t exist in the real world. I’ll defer to our resident tech geniuses — Lauren and Saoirse — to explain the science.” Her eyes shot to her mentor. “Týr, given the references explained in the last few minutes and the events of the evening so far, did you invite the actual being we know as Santa Claus to this house?”

Klasa rolled her eyes. “A couple hundred years of name mispronunciations, one Anatolian bishop, and a mountain of nineteenth century art suddenly make me a chubby man with a full beard?” She laughed. “The irony is enough to give a Valkyrie vertigo.”

Olivia and Chloe exchanged a glance as if they knew a secret that just got revealed. They started rapid-firing questions.

“So, you’re really Santa?” Chloe started. “I thought I knew who you were.”

“Not the one you’ve been told about through modern myth, young one. My name is Klasa. It has been for about five millennia with very little vowel shift.”

“Do you really have a sleigh and flying reindeer?” Olivia continued.

“I do, but only six. Eight seems a little excessive. They’re all female, too. Females have more endurance. The fun part is they keep their antlers in winter; the males lose theirs in the late fall. Their names are not the ones from the 19th Century poem, either. They’re all in my native language which hasn’t been spoken in about twenty-five hundred years, so I don’t think you’d be able to pronounce them in modern English.”

“Do you have elves?” Chloe wondered.

“No. I have helpers, but they’re human and choose to live in the village with me.”

“Do you live at the North Pole for real?” Olivia added on.

“No, but close enough.” Klasa sighed. “How about I sit down and tell you my story? That might answer all your questions and maybe shed a little light on things. How does that sound?”

“Yes, please!” Chloe and Olivia excitedly requested.

The adults in the room exchanged glances with each other and muttered things like “Okay, sure.”, “Why not?”, and “The kids might enjoy it.” Klasa casually strode back over to the chair she’d been sitting in all night and let out a long sigh. Her eyes met the curious glances of everyone in attendance. She answered those with a mischievous grin and a glint in her eye that conveyed they were all in for a treat.

“None of the stories you’ve heard are accurate. They got some things right over the years, but most things in the past two centuries have been marketing fluff to sell things.” She resituated herself in the chair to be as comfortable as possible. “Let me start at the beginning…”

– [ End of Part One ] –