Kris Kringle
Chapter Twenty-Six: The North Pole

Kris Kringle was up before the sun rose. In fact, he had not really slept at all that night. The elves had created an impressive amount of battle equipment for the villagers, and Kris began to feel more confident as he saw his followers armed with weapons and armor that morning. Even though Wenceslas’ red-and-white robe was not the most appropriate attire for a war, Rudy and Eva had insisted Kris wear it as a reminder to the people that Wenceslas was on their side. Some female villagers even took the outfit a step further, sewing Kris a pair of matching pants. Kris still wore the black boots he had borrowed from Jack before his death. How he wished his best friend was by his side on this fateful morning.

Kris stood at the head of his army, the chill of a winter’s dawn cutting through their faces and sword-wielding hands. A light snow and fog had formed, and so at first, the villagers could only hear the approaching enemy. Felix walked up beside Kris.

“You remember what to do?” Kris asked the young elf, continuing to keep his eye straight ahead for the first sign of the enemy. The clicking of horses’ hooves and clinging of armor grew louder, though the fog still prevented any visual of Renier and his men.

“Yes, I do,” Felix gave the affirmative reply. He reached into a small bag at his side and pulled out a hat that resembled the ones worn by the elves. It was shaped like a traditional triangular nightcap. It matched the rest of Kris’ outfit with its red body and white trim, and a fuzzy white ball that hung off the top. “We elves would be honored if you wore this,” Felix added, handing him the elfish hat.

Kris gently placed the hat on his head, the top flopping over beside his head. “Thank you, Felix,” he said slowly, touched by the gesture of the hat though not entirely thrilled by the look of it.

Felix looked at his friend and smiled. “Now you are one of us.”

Kris raised his eyebrows. “If only that meant I could turn invisible...”

The sounds of the approaching army grew even louder as the first faces of the enemy soldiers appeared through the fog, which had already begun to dissipate as the sun rose higher. Soon the entire army—which Kris estimated to be over 100 men—stood before them in impressive formation. King Renier stood at the front of the army and surveyed the villagers in makeshift armor standing before him. He looked out across the rooftops and furrowed his brow.

“No smoke,” he observed with great irritation, “You all have chosen death then?”

There was no response from the villagers. They all stood their ground firmly, staring back at the enemy leader.

Renier walked up closer to Kris, the villagers lowering their weapons slowly as he approached, prepared to attack when called upon to do so. Renier stopped a few feet in front of Kris and examined his outfit with a mocking grin on his face.

“Nice hat,” he told Kris sarcastically. He looked again at the robe and shook his head. “I’ll never understand why my father chose you,” he said with disappointment in his voice, “The glory belonged to me, and yet he refused to bestow it. His own son.”

“It could have been yours, Renier,” Kris explained, “But you sought you to control, to force, to destroy. A true leader sees the potential in those he serves and helps them to reach it. He fights for them. You fight only for yourself.”

Renier’s eyes focused more intensely on his enemy. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, “You will lose.”

Kris shrugged casually. “I like our odds,” he said, “We both have an army. It’s king versus king.”

Renier shook his head as he let his cloak fall the ground, now covered with a thin layer of snow.

“I’m afraid you’re wrong again, Kris Kringle,” he replied with a dark voice, “It’s king…against Krampus!”

Suddenly, Renier’s body began to transform. The skin of his face turned a dark shade of purple, his eyes and mouth becoming distorted and darkened, his teeth large and sharp. His hands turned into the kind of talons that would be seen on a giant bird of prey. The rest of his body was covered in reptilian-like scales, and out of his back grew giant wings that resembled that of a bat or dragon.

Many villagers cried out in horror as the beast before them now elevated himself above the ground.

“Now!” Kris ordered. An army of invisible elves, including Felix, rushed from the village and began attacking the unsuspecting enemy soldiers. The villagers cheered and advanced as they saw dozens of Renier’s men suddenly being knocked off their horses by the unseen elves.

The clashing of swords and shields now filled the air, as both armies rushed into each other. Kris retreated back in order to draw away Krampus, for he knew he was the beast’s key target. With a ferocious flap of his wings, Krampus chased Kris into the heart of the village, swooping down on his enemy and knocking him to the ground. Kris cried out as one of the talons ripped through his robe and tore some of the flesh off his back. Krampus landed in front of Kris, who stumbled as he tried to push himself off the ground.

“The last time I attacked a man in that robe, I didn’t finish the job,” the beast snarled in a voice that sounded very different from Renier’s, “I will this time!”

Krampus stretched forth his claws to kill his opponent, but was stopped by a large rock that had been thrown at his head. The beast’s eyes grew red with rage as he saw who was responsible.

“Sister!” he addressed Eva, who stood on the rooftop of one of the houses. He flew toward her and snatched her by the shoulders with his lower claws. She screamed desperately as Krampus flew up higher and higher. Kris rushed to the reindeer sleigh where Grinkers had been waiting for him. Kris immediately called on the reindeer, sending the sleigh into flight. He pursued Krampus and Eva over the village houses, positioning the sleigh under the beast. Taking out a bow and arrow, Grinkers aimed at the beast carefully from his position on the sleigh, and let an arrow fly. It hit Krampus directly in the neck, and the beast let out a hideous cry, releasing Eva from his grasp. Kris had directed the sleigh right beneath her, and caught her in his arms, which nearly caused both of them to fall over the side of the sleigh. The wounded Krampus continued to fly northward over the Polar Mountains.

“He’s headed for the North Pole,” Eva warned breathlessly, her eyelids began to close involuntarily.

“Hang on, Eva!” Kris pleaded. Both of them had significant wounds inflicted by Krampus, and Kris himself was beginning to feel the effects of the loss of so much blood.

As they pursued Krampus past the mountains, Kris now saw a vast and desolate frozen tundra below them. Krampus suddenly and surprisingly dove deep into the blinding snow of this polar wasteland, and Kris followed close behind, unsure of why they were there. The sleigh hit the ground hard as the reindeer landed, forcing Kris, Eva, and Grinkers out into the snow. Kris had landed face-first and when he lifted his head, he saw Krampus standing over a strange-looking staff that rose out of the snow-covered ground. Red and white colors swirled down the staff’s body, and on the top sat a glass globe filled with swirling colors of all kinds. Krampus had found the North Pole.

Eva, in her wounded state, could not push herself out of the snow, and Grinkers stayed with her to help her survive with his magic for as long as he could. Kris fought his way through the fog, the snow-filled wind piercing him to the bone and again sending him to ground face-first. As he emerged again, his beard was covered in snow, making the hair look white instead of brown. As Grinkers looked out at his friend approaching the North Pole, he suddenly realized the meaning of the dream he had had many nights ago. The white-bearded man in a red-and-white robe that he had seen in vision had not been King Wenceslas. It was Kris Kringle.

Kris approached Krampus, his sword drawn but his arms too weak to use it. Krampus looked at Kris with almost a kind of disinterest on his face. Krampus removed the arrow from his neck with a growl and looked again at the magical staff before him.

“The North Pole was said to grant eternal life to he who finds it,” the beast explained. His voice was harsh and hideous, but Kris now detected a hint of sadness in it. And as he looked upon the inscription written upon the pole, he understood Krampus’ remorse:

“Eternal life shall belong to those

Who pay the cost and take the blows

A life forever you may know

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You may leave but once a year

And then back again, you must appear

Because every moment spent past that day

Will cause your youth to fade away

To live forever is indeed a gift

But one that cannot be taken swift

So if you desire it, give yourself pause

And then utter the words ___________”

Kris saw that the final words had never actually been written, but purposely left blank.

“The spell is left empty. But what does it matter?” Krampus murmured angrily. “What good is eternal life when it comes at so great a price? Living forever in this frozen wasteland with only one chance a year to leave it?” He had thought eternal life was within his grasp, and now that he could not lay hold of it, Krampus was filled with rage. His clenched his front talons together and gnashed his teeth in uncontrollable anger. He knocked Kris to the ground and ripped his claws across Kris’ body. The pain was incredible, but with his lung punctured, Kris could not even let out a scream.

Eva, who had watched the interaction from a distance, cried out to Kris. The beast turned and began to walk slowly toward the princess, like a wolf stalking its prey. Grinkers looked at the North Pole and his friend who lay beside it, so close to death. To the old elf’s mind suddenly came the words that he had written down after his dream—the name he had seen appear in the snow. The words perfectly completed the inscription on the pole.

He turned himself invisible and ran past the beast that still approached the princess. Grinkers appeared next to his friend, who lay there lifeless in the snow.

“Santa Claus,” Grinkers said aloud softly, and as he did, the magical colors of the globe atop the pole began to swirl around with even more energy. A single ray of light shot out from the crystal sphere, shining directly upon Grinkers, who breathed in deeply as the light hit him. The scene drew the attention of Krampus, who gazed at the magic with both wonder and alarm.

“Kris Kringle, you must say the phrase, ‘Santa Claus’,” the elf begged him.

Kris’ lips moved slowly but no sound was produced.

“Please,” Grinkers pleaded, “Say it.”

A soft, almost inaudible sound emerged from Kris mouth: “…Santa… Claus.”

Again, the top of the staff glowed with color and cast a beam of light upon the badly wounded king lying helplessly in the snow.

Suddenly, his wounds were no more. His pain had disappeared. Kris pushed himself off the ground and examined his body in absolute amazement. Krampus looked upon the immortal Kris with great fear. Positioning himself next to Eva, he placed his talons lightly upon her.

“Don’t move, Kris Kringle,” the beast warned, “You may indeed be immortal, but your precious love is not.”

Kris and Grinkers stood there horrified. Eva herself was already close to death. One quick stroke from the beast, and she would be no more. As Kris looked upon Eva, he remembered again the sad answer Percy’s Parchment had given him. He then realized the reason for that answer. He would never be able to marry Eva because he would be forced to see her die before he could.

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