Santa Daddy, I’m Not the One

7

NILS

I n the stillness of the records room, a repository of towering shelves, each laden with ancient ledgers and scrolls, Landon’s words reverberated in my mind.

If you could see everything, why didn’t you help?

His question was like a dagger that had found its mark in the soft flesh of my heart. It hit at the guilt I had. Always the rewarder of good and bad but never allowed to make judgments about whether the action was justified. Landon was just one of the many children over the years who had been hurt by a system that didn’t consider their feelings, their hardships.

But everything needed to happen in its natural order without me interfering in their lives. I knew the rules all too well. As much as my heart ached to intervene, to cradle each hurting child in a protective embrace, my role was bound by the very magic that allowed me to spread joy to millions. I was not permitted to interfere with mortal lives directly. If I did and it backfired, that could be the end of Christmas. I was the last of my line, and there was no more Santa to come after me. The last time I’d broken the rule, I’d been forced to watch Frostheart wreak havoc in the world while unable to do anything about it.

The door creaked open, and the elf on duty stepped in. He widened his eyes slightly at finding me there, a rare occurrence in the quiet solitude of the records room.

“Santa?”

“Eirik, I need you to look up the records for Landon McClain. Find out what happened to his Christmas gifts, the entire history.”

Eirik nodded. “Do you need the information immediately?”

I considered Landon’s haunted eyes and the need for a delicate touch. “As soon as possible, but not tonight. I’m taking him to Twinkle Glen for the Caroling Caravan. He needs a bit of Christmas spirit, a reminder of the joy and community the season brings. But I want to know everything as soon as possible. Understanding his past might help us.”

“You’ve got it, Santa.” Eirik was already moving toward the massive ledgers. “I’ll have the information ready for you soon.”

I left, the weight of responsibility and a newfound determination settling over me. As I walked through the corridors of the workshop, the distant sounds of elves humming carols and the occasional jingle of bells did little to lift the heaviness in my heart.

Tonight I would take Landon to Twinkle Glen and show him the beauty of the community coming together in song and light. Perhaps, amid the melodies and the gentle glow of lanterns, he would find a moment of peace.

The door of my bedroom was open. Through the gap, I glimpsed Landon, unaware of my presence. He stood in front of the mirror, tugging at his shirt, smoothing out invisible creases. A profound sense of protectiveness welled up inside me. He seemed so vulnerable, so in need of someone to stand by him, to understand the depth of his pain and offer solace.

A moment of panic seized me. What if, when the Crossing opened again, Landon chose to return to his world? The thought sent a chill through me. The idea of him leaving me was unbearable. I needed to show him the magic and warmth of Twinkle Glen, to ignite a spark of belief and joy in his heart. I had to change his mind. I had to make him stay.

Silently, I stepped into the room. Landon turned, a shy smile on his lips.

“Do I look okay?” he asked, a hint of uncertainty coloring his tone. “I’m not sure what a Caroling Caravan is.”

I smiled back. “You look perfect. And as for the Caroling Caravan… it’s a tradition we have here at Twinkle Glen.” I took a deep breath, then dove into our rich history. “Everyone gathers to sing carols. The caravan is a procession of festive carriages that travel through the glen. Think of it as a parade.”

“I see.”

“Are you ready to go?”

He nodded. “I guess.”

I picked up the coat from the bed and wrapped it around his shoulders. “In case you feel a little cold.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I kissed the tip of his nose. “Let’s go.”

Together, we walked to the stable where the reindeer were kept. The cold air nipped at our cheeks, but the clear night sky was alight with stars, adding a touch of magic to the evening.

As we approached the sleigh, the reindeer greeted us with soft wheezes, their breaths visible in the chilly air. “Can I… Can I pet them?” he asked, his voice filled with a childlike wonder I hadn’t heard before.

“Of course.” I led him closer.

Landon reached out tentatively, his hand hovering over the soft fur of the nearest reindeer. When it nuzzled into his palm, he let out a surprised giggle. The reindeer snorted, and Landon’s laughter grew pure and unguarded. It was already happening. He was warming up to us and accepting this place.

Landon wrapped his arms around the reindeer’s neck in a gentle hug. “Thank you,” he whispered, almost as if speaking to the creature.

I cleared my throat, touched by the scene. “Ready to go?”

Landon released the reindeer and nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. We climbed into the sleigh, the reindeer champing at the bit, eager to take flight.

As we soared into the sky, Landon’s laughter mingled with the ringing of sleigh bells, filling the crisp night air with hope and joy. When we approached the town, he grew quiet.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. They don’t like me very much. Can’t say I blame them either.”

I took his hand and squeezed. “They’re good people, and they’ll love you. They just need to get to know you, which is why we’re doing this. If they see you up and about and notice I value you, they’ll be more at ease.”

Landon looked at me, a glint of uncertainty reflecting in his eyes. “You sure about that, Nils?”

“Positive,” I said with a smile. “But if you feel uncomfortable at any point, let me know, and I’ll take you home.”

We descended upon Twinkle Glen, the sleigh landing smoothly on the glistening snow. I’d timed our arrival to a few minutes before the procession began. It would give everyone a chance to meet Landon properly but not enough time for them to grill him.

We stepped out of the sleigh and, hand in hand, walked toward the town square. An elven trio singing harmonies greeted us. As we approached the crowd gathering around them, whispers rose, and heads turned our way.

Landon tensed beside me, but I held his hand and introduced him to everyone. His smile was just as forced as those of the townspeople. They were worried, and they had a right to be. The tree hadn’t regained its luster.

When it was time to lead the procession, I stood in front of everyone. “Fellow elves and friends,” I said in a booming voice that silenced the chatter instantly. “Let’s embrace this season’s joy by lending our hearts to song and welcoming new friends into our fold.” I glanced at Landon, who was standing slightly behind me. “Now, more than ever, it is important to show unity and support each other. We are the light that needs to keep Twinkle Glen shining.”

The procession began, a line of carriages adorned with garlands, ribbons, and twinkling lights slowly winding through the cobblestone streets. I led the way, Landon beside me, and we joined in the chorus of the first carol. Our voices, along with those of the elves and humans, rose, creating a tapestry of sound that brought warmth to even the coldest corners of Twinkle Glen.

The Caroling Caravan moved slowly, stopping at intervals for different groups to join in or to perform a special song. The glow of lanterns and the gentle shimmer of snowflakes drifting from the night sky added to the enchantment of the night. Landon’s initial hesitation faded, and his eyes lit up with each new verse, each smile from a passing child, each wave from the townsfolk.

We moved past the Yuletide Inn, past the Enchanted Market, where the smells of cider and gingerbread enticed everyone to drink and eat. Everywhere we went, the community joined in, their voices uniting in a celebration of the season, of hope.

Finally, the procession led us to the center of the square, where the Eternal Tree stood. Its once vibrant branches were dimmer now, the lights not as brilliant as they should be. A hush fell over the crowd, all eyes turning to the tree and then to Landon, the stranger in our midst. Landon shrank back, his posture becoming defensive once more.

I stepped forward, releasing Landon’s hand, and addressed the crowd. “This tree is a symbol of our spirit, our unity, and our joy. Tonight, let us sing not just for the season but also for renewal, for hope, and for the future of Twinkle Glen.”

“Wait.” Landon moved to stand next to me, his body shaking.

“Landon—”

“No, I have to do the right thing.” He turned to the crowd. “Coming here to Twinkle Glen wasn’t my choice, and I didn’t like that. While I walked through the town today, I admired all the decorations. Everything looked so beautiful, like out of a fairytale, but I shouldn’t have touched your tree, let alone try to break off a branch. I wanted to see what made it glow and never expected that the light would dim. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I am sorry for affecting your tree.”

Silence reigned, as if the weight of Landon’s words sank into the hearts of those around us. The next move belonged to the people of Twinkle Glen. A soft murmur rippled through them, their gazes flitting between Landon and me. An older elf stepped forward. His name was Aengus, one who had lived as long as the Eternal Tree itself.

“You didn’t mean to harm the tree,” Aengus said, his voice steady and smoothing. “In fact, it was silly of us to think that you, a mere human, could be responsible for what happened. It’s all a coincidence, but thank you for apologizing. This isn’t the first time Twinkle Glen has faced a crisis, and we’ll get through this the way we always have—by uplifting our spirits.”

His words seemed to break a spell, and the people murmured in agreement.

“Let’s sing!”

A hearty cheer replaced the heavy silence. The musicians struck up a lively tune, and everyone joined in. In an orderly fashion, each person walked up to the tree and touched it.

“What are they doing?”

“They’re paying respect to the tree that has served us well for so long. Come on.”

But Landon didn’t move. “I don’t think I should touch it again.”

“It will be fine.”

“How do you know?”

“Sometimes all we have to do is believe. You heard the elder. It’s inconceivable that you could be responsible for what happened to the tree.”

“Maybe…after.”

“Okay, I’ll wait.”

It was a long wait while everyone got their touch of the tree. When no one else was left, Landon approached the tree with me.

“I’m afraid,” he said. “They’ll blame me if…”

I took his hand and placed it on the tree bark with mine over his. He gasped, and I felt it. The jolt, a rush of warmth flowing through him.

“You feel that?” Landon asked.

“Yes.”

I stared at him in wonder. The tree had never done this with anyone else.

The tree’s lights flickered, glowing a little brighter. A cheer went up, then turned into a gasp.

“Landon.” I sucked in a deep breath and grabbed his hand away from the tree. The bright light had returned dull—even more so than before.

I sensed Landon’s distress. “It’s really me,” he said. “I did that to the tree.”

“He’s a curse!” someone cried. “He’s cursed the tree.”

“Stop!” I shouted over the cacophony of voices. “Every one of you quiet.”

“He touched the tree, and now the lights are even dimmer. You can’t defend him anymore. We all saw it.”

“But you all saw the tree get brighter than it ever has as well, right?”

“What does it matter if it doesn’t stay bright?”

“Why are you defending him, Santa? Have you forgotten that if the tree dies, you die as well?”

“Exactly. It’s my life at stake, yet I trust Landon—” I turned my head, but Landon didn’t stand beside me anymore. “Landon!”

The small figure was darting toward the sleigh. “Landon!”

He didn’t look back. I ran after him, the mob at my heels. Why was he running away? Were they right? Was he working with Frostheart?

I watched in horror as Landon climbed into the sleigh. He grabbed the reins and snapped them. The reindeer took off, their hooves pawing the air as they climbed higher and higher. Taking Landon away from me.