Overcoat,” said Alexander, again using his superhero moniker on reflex. He chided himself. He was getting too wrapped up in the weirdness.
“You have been spoken of amongst my people. The Amaryllis Clan sought you and your Mistress as a Champion, did they not?” asked Black Peter.
“If you mean a young lady called Holly, then yes. We hit a few snags and were separated. I’m trying to make my way to the North to find her,” said Alexander.
“Then you need travel no further. You are in the lands of Kringle, within his factory. Come with me, and I shall take you to her and her clansmen,” said Black Peter as he helped Alexander to his feet.
The two followed the tunnel a short distance. Alexander had to duck. He wasn’t too tall by any means, but his near six foot frame was giant compared to the elves. At the end of the tunnel he was able to stand. They stepped out onto a wooded walkway into a massive factory.
It was hard to perceive the size of the factory itself. Massive boilers belched steam. Oversized gears turned complex assembly lines. Elves flitted about, managing machines and working the lines. The factory was a temple to efficiency melded with craftsmanship. Magic interwove with machinery with seamless ease. It made Alexander, with all of his mechanical skills, look like a kid with a box of tinker toys.
“Wow,” said Alexander, dumbfounded.
“Indeed,” said Black Peter. “Follow me.”
Black Peter led Alexander through the factory. Every bit of space was used for something. Alexander ducked and weaved in and out of the laboring elves, all of whom were engrossed in their respective jobs. They went deeper into the factory to a mechanical elevator. They stepped in, Alexander having to crouch to avoid the ceiling.
“The one you called Holly arrived with disparaging news of your capture yesterday. It is unfortunate that you had a run in with the dwarven mercenaries. Inefficient foreign barbarians. I was nearly eaten by trolls because of their drunken stupidity. I have long petitioned Kringle to use my mechanical soldiers in their stead,” said Black Peter.
“I don’t disagree with you there,” said Alexander, remembering the stench of the sleeping dwarves.
“My rescue will earn you favor with the court,” said Black Peter, “My clan serve as chief weaponers and engineers to Kringle, and I am among the elders,” he said.
“That won’t really matter,” said Alexander. “I’m here to serve as a Champion in a trial by combat.”
“Favor with Kringle comes in many forms,” said Black Peter as the elevator stopped.
The two stepped out. They were on the surface now. The well-maintained warehouse was filled with industrious elves, wrapping presents and packing crates. Black Peter led Alexander to a foreman’s desk where an elf with graying hair poured over a ledger. He looked up at Black Peter, and then to Alexander.
“Thank Kringle you have arrived,” shouted the elf. “When Holly arrived without you, I had feared you lost to the depravities of the North,” said the excited elder elf. “Forgive me. I am called Elder Amaryllis. I am the one who sent for you.”
“Crimson Overcoat,” said Alexander, offering his hand.
“We will speak further after the shift is done. It was good of you to bring him here, Black Peter,” said Elder Amaryllis.
“He saved me and several of my kin from trolls. You have found a worthy champion, Amaryllis,” said Black Peter.
“Come with me,” said Black Peter to Alexander. “You shall enjoy the hospitality and gratitude of my Clan while you wait.
Black Peter led Alexander outside the warehouse. They were in a mountain valley surrounded by snow covered peaks. Stars twinkled and the northern lights cascaded far brighter than they ever had in the mundane world. Neat rows of houses and workshops lined a single winding street. At the edge of the valley set in the edge of the mountain was a great hall, what had to be the castle of Santa. It was more Viking longhouse than fantasy castle.
Black Peter led Alexander far up the streets. The houses grew larger and more ornate. Coats of arms became more impressive as they grew closer to the Great Hall. Black Peter led Alexander to a hall within spitting distance of Kringle’s palace grounds. The hall was impressive in and of itself. Elves with similar dress and appearance to Black Peter rushed to the pair as they arrived. Emotion ran thick and the lilting tongue of the elves intertwined with tears of joy.
Alexander found himself swarmed with elves as well, shaking his hand and hugging him. They switched to English, thanking him for saving their kin from the trolls. They led the two into the hall, and before long a great celebration was at hand. The elves were excellent hosts. His wounds were dressed. He was given a chance to bathe in a wonderful hot shower (the elves were big on indoor plumbing). He found his clothes mended and cleaned, his boots polished to a shine better than new, and his crimson coat cleaned and oiled. The brass buttons shone like new.
The feast was remarkable. The wealth and status of Black Peter’s clan was everything that Alexander was told. Music, dancing, drinking and feasting were the rule of the day. The gratitude and hospitality of the Christmas elves was beginning to change his opinions of the Fae.
Later in the day a loud whistle blast blew, signaling the change of shifts in the great factory. Black Peter and one of his kin came over to Alexander. He was sitting and healing, mending his wounds with the force of will.
“Crimson Overcoat, this is Ronald. He will take you to the Amaryllis Clan Hall. Thank you again, and if there is anything else you may need while you are among our people, please let me know.” said Black Peter.
“I appreciate your kindness,” said Alexander and he stood and shook hands.
Alexander left the hall to thankful cheers. It would have bolstered his ego, but he knew that the hard part was still to come.
Ronald led Alexander to a smaller, more modest hall further from the Great Hall. Elder Amaryllis was waiting with Holly to greet him.
“I see that your stay with Black Peter was kind to you,” said Elder Amaryllis.
“Quite. Holly, I’m glad you made it home safe,” said Alexander. Holly ran forward and hugged Alexander tight.
“Please, come inside. We should discuss the matter that has brought you to us,” said Elder Amaryllis.
Amaryllis Hall was neat and tidy, like everything else amongst the elves. It was home to the majority of the clan. Some were resting, while others chatted and ate. Children ran about, playing with remarkable handmade toys. The Elder signaled for drinks to be brought to the head table where they sat.
“I understand that I am to be Champion representing your clan in a trial by combat. Your labor negotiations get right to the point,” said Alexander.
“You must understand that our entire clan is at stake. We will be enslaved if you fail, with the young misfit, who brought this upon us, executed. We love our work. We are one with our magic. The two are inseparable. It is rare that we have a bad egg amongst us, but the mischief of our outcast may cost us dearly,” said the Elder.
“If you say he wants to be a dentist, I’m leaving,” said Alexander.
“No such nonsense as that,” said the Elder. “His heart is set on mischief. Antisocial behavior is very rare among our people. When one such as our misfit misbehaves, it disrupts the harmony of the whole,” said the Elder.
“Whatever he did, it’s done. No take-backsies. So you went to the boss and invoked whatever labor contract you have, and now it’s pistols at dawn,” said Alexander.
“The trial will be held on Christmas Eve, before the Hunt during the grand Celebration at the Great Hall. It will be before all the clans and dignitaries, overseen by Kringle himself,” said the Elder.
“Any formalities prior to the event?” asked Alexander.
“No. You merely need to present yourself at the time of the trial. Kringle will call forth the Clan Elder or the Champion they have chosen. You step out, declare yourself, and win.” said the Elder.
“Who or what am I fighting?,” asked Alexander.
; “That is decided by Kringle, who will declare a Champion of his own. He often sends his mercenary dwarves to fight,” said the Elder.
“I can take them. No problem,” said Alexander.
“I have spoken to him of our payment, and he has accepted,” interjected Holly.
“You have knowledge of what you call technomancy, if I correctly understand?” asked the Elder.
“Yes. But I have seen the works of your people. I thought I was good until I saw some of your work. I’m like a monkey with a ball peen hammer compared to your elves.” said Alexander.
“I have prepared a Codex Mechanica for you,” said the Elder as he presented Alexander with a cube of meshed gears and mechanical parts. The parts within the cube shifted and changed of their own accord, and interlocking web of gears and machinery.
“How does it work?” asked Alexander as he inspected the cube.
“Figure that out,” said the Elder with a smile, “and you will learn all that you need.”
Most people would be angry about a payment made with a riddle, but Alexander loved puzzles. He understood learning by doing was one of the only ways to learn magic. He placed the codex in one of his inner pockets.
“I know this is probably a silly question, but what day is it? Night and day are different here than in my home, and I’ve been teleported at least twice since I have been here. That tends to throw off my inner clock,” said Alexander.
“It is December the 24th. We approach Christmas Eve. The Celebration begins in four hours. You should prepare yourself. I have prepared a room to sequester yourself until the celebration to meditate. You will then be guests of our clan at the Celebration. If it is to be your last meal, it will be the best you have ever had. Kringle is as generous as he is cruel,” said the Elder.
“I hate the spirit world,” Alexander mumbled to himself as he was led to the room prepared for him.
The next few hours were spent checking his gear and weapons, and focusing on healing. Alexander dropped into a deep meditative trance, letting his body heal the myriad of fractures, bruises, and punctures he suffered at the hands of the dwarves. The preparation time was more than he usually afforded before a huge fight.
Alexander was pulled from his trance by the blowing of great basso horns. He stood and removed his bandages and bindings, which he no longer needed. He stretched and found that he was once again in fighting form. No matter what came next he would be on the top of his game.
Holly entered the room wearing her Christmas finery. She was attractive and alien at the same time.
“The feast begins. You are to accompany our clan. Follow me,” she said.
Alexander followed Holly to the street. It was packed with elves dressed in their finest clothing. The class system was apparent, with the lowest elves in peasant clothing and the highest dressed like princes. Amaryllis clan came somewhere in between, more than modest but less than kingly.
The dwarves were here as well. They marched in a long column, flag bearers carrying the crests of the various mercenary units. They were impressive massed together. Uncouth as Alexander found them they could still put on a hell of a show.
The Great Hall was lit and decorated with gold and silver. Garlands sparkling with fairy fire lined the buildings surrounding the Hall. The snow sparkled and the icicles were artfully placed. Topiaries danced and frolicked among the trees, all of which were lit with red and green candles.
The Hall was larger on the inside than it was on the outside. This sort of thing didn’t bother Alexander. It was a common enough trick that he had seen it several times before. The scents and sounds and sights were best described as elemental Christmas. The Great Hall was the spiritual locus of worldwide winter festivals and celebrations predating history.
At the far end of the hall was a throne of ornate