There was a crisp wind in the air, something whistling through Trix’s ears as he breathed in the joy of Christmastime. He had been nervous about this holiday season, seeing as the last had been such an adventure to save. Of course, he was forever grateful for that adventure, he’d made some amazing friends and had learned a lot, but he didn’t think his nerves could take anything more.

Therefore, he was looking forward to a smoother Christmas, now that Santa was back to lighthearted and they had restored order. Not calm, but easier. He’d been head deep into the stacks of paperwork, checking lists and making sure that they were all correctly filed, but eventually one of his fellow elves had dragged him out of his workspace to take a break, join the celebration.

He’d been working on doing that, taking breaks more often. It didn’t stop him from getting lost in his head, nor from stressing himself out far too much, but it was improvement that he was determined to keep. So he’d asked his fellow elves to assist him, to drag him out sometimes and make him have some fun. He’d been surprised by how many were willing to oblige. He’d even made some friends from it.

“They’re making health bunches,” the elf who had dragged him out said, her smile brightened by the glittery blue on her lips. “You should join them, hm? Figured you wouldn’t be one for the dancing.”

He hesitated a moment, before nodding. “Yeah, I can do that. Thanks, Jelly,” and he offered a smile in return, already feeling encouraged. Jellybaby always seemed to be the embodiment of Christmas cheer.

She led him away and he followed, into the sprawling expanse of Kringle Forest, waving goodbye to her as he made his way towards the trees that had some particularly promising branches. He hummed a tune as he picked delicately from a rosewood tree, pruning small twigs from a branch of a cherry tree. He rather liked the detail oriented work, the peaceful silence.

“There we go,” he hummed, smiling at his handiwork. It was evidence of his good mood, carefully arranged, beautiful, even with the slight nervousness held within the sharper leaves and branches. He watched in bright surprise as it flourished, blooming before his eyes. “Oh, Merry Christmas,” he whispered, eyes wide. This was sure to be a wonderful season.

A fresh sheet of snow had covered the ground this morning, and a sharp, crisp breeze greeted Randolph’s very cold, red nose. Finally, after all the waiting, Christmas was on the horizon. Of course, that meant more work for everyone, but at least it was here.
Randolph usually spent what was left of his free time before the Christmas craze holed up in his own stable lounging on his hay bed, but he figured he had to stretch his legs a bit before his job started.
He considered what cultural activities were available. The Ceilidh Dance was a definite no, it was a lovely tradition, but he wouldn’t participate, not with all the people watching. How could he even attempt to, when the dance was purely for bipedal folk?
“Why is it spelled that way anyway? The “d” isn’t even pronounced, “Kayleigh” would’ve done just fine…”
As he muttered to himself while trotting alongside the streets of Kringle City, he stopped abruptly to stare at the lack of windows all the way down the street.
Was this one of the cultural activities? Stealing windows from freezing citizens? Certainly didn’t sound like a nice one, but Randolph could help with bringing them back.
It is a cruel joke, but it must have an interesting backstory to go with it…
Randolph trotted into the crisp countryside, now whistling to a Christmas tune. The day had more of a reason to it, now that he had something to do.

Santa’s baby sipped the last of her warm apple cider. Breathing in the thin, cool air, she made a leap then playfully frolicked down the snowy hill towards Kringle City. Confidence as her strong suit, she was exhilarated to finally dance in the long awaited Ceilidh Dance.
As she entered the square, jolly elves were hopping and tapping their green curly shoes to the rhythm of the festive music. Santa’s Baby’s heart seemed to synchronize with the beat and within seconds, she was twirling to the center. The massive crowd of elves formed a circle as she excitedly danced, cheering her on and bouncing to her contagious movements. She kept her moves entertaining, but was certainly sure to reserve her fully energy for when Kanakaloka would arrive.

“Bait…Check…Fishing rod…Check…and…ah-hah!“

Amidst a cloud of wintery chill and snow, in a secluded and frozen pond surrounded by pine trees, there sat an elf. One holding a fishing pole and dressed in a bundle of scarves and knitted hats. One that was currently shivering as she dropped a gingerbread-man-shaped bait and hook into a hole she drilled into the ice atop the pond’s surface. Nutella Candypop watched as the bait floated for a second alongside the ice, then sank slightly into the water. She stood up, feeling ice and slush crunch underneath her bell-tipped boots.

Now, time to play the long game…

She sank into the folded chair she brought the fishing pole in one hand and a thermos full of hot chocolate in the other. Waiting was probably the worst part about ice fishing, but it would be worth it if she caught a rainbow trout this time. If not, well, a salmon would do.

Nutella flinched as the fishing pole jerked violently in her hand, as though something tugged it beneath the water. An excited, almost crazy grin met her lips, and Nutella lunged forward as the line loosened into the water. She caught sight of the winter sunlight kissing the rainbow scales of a trout as more of the fishing line zoomed out from the rod. No, no time to think, time to act…but then, she stopped thinking when a powerful tug from the rod unbalanced her, and Nutella fell to the ground, wincing as the slush met her already rosy cheeks.

Ouch.

As though to add insult to injury, she watched haplessly as the line broke against the ice and the shadow of a rainbow trout fled, presumably to safety. Nutella groaned, kicking aside an ice chunk into the water as she sank back into the camping chair. “I’ll get you next time, trout.” She mumbled angrily to the gaping hole in the ice. She smiled slightly despite herself as the smell of freshly baked cookies and hot cocoa met her nose. Even if she didn’t get any annoyingly persistent trout this time, it would still not disprove the fact that this would be a very special holiday.

A bright expanse stretched before Randolph as the white snow reflected the sun’s rays. Randolph wasn’t that affected to the cold, but out in the pole countryside and away from the cozy glow of Kringle City, it was definitely a lot chillier.

Randolph sighed at himself.
Really, Randolph. Did you really think that looking for a frame of see-through glass was easy, let alone in a snow-covered field?

He turned on his red nose. Well, he didn’t literally turn it on, as in a switch, he just made the natural red glow emanating from his nose a lot more brighter, like a spotlight.
Maybe this could help.

Suddenly, a red glint caught Randolph’s eye. He saw his own red-tinged, snow-covered, and half-buried reflection staring back at him with disgruntled eyes. Great, he found it! Now the problem was to get it back to the street without breaking it.

Randolph had no hands, so he carefully got it caught in his antlers and very slowly started back to Kringle City.

The Pole was a place of magic and imagination, where fairy dust and magical moonshine is found in abundance. That’s what Fig loved about it. They took every opportunity to make the most of all the wonder of the place.

And no wonder was more astonishing that the great man himself. Fig would not often miss an opportunity to listen to him speak.

This day, he did not only allude back to the past - adventures and tradition. He spoke of the present, with concern for the future.

For Santa, the present was the presents. And kids these days did not want real things that would feed their imaginations. They wanted in-game credit, or the latest device, or more likes than anyone else. The traditional toys would not cut it, just as they were. They needed a new spin.

So much to do, so little time. So far behind as it is! Fig wondered what they could do to help.

The Fig-brain went into overdrive. At last, they had it!

A Sock Transformer!

At first, it would look like a Christmas stocking - a long sock, ideal for the winter.

A big, thick sock.

But that thickness concealed hidden marvels - little pockets which could be unfurled to turn the sock into different things. Eyes here, wings there - it could be made into all manner of creatures.

Surely such a garment would be a popular gift at Christmas!

Fig set about looking for people who could make their dream a reality!

As Fig looked around for someone who could help out, he wasn’t quite paying attention to where he was going. He bumped into a taller figure who looked rather out of place at Santa’s workshop.

A human in blue, black, and silver. He reached down a gloved hand and helped Fig back to his feet.

“You alright?” Matt asked.

As Fig explained more about the Sock-Transformer, Matt listened intently, producing a notebook and taking notes. He’d seen transformative clothing items before- even some that didn’t use magic. As he listened, he kept writing notes…

“That does sound quite interesting! I actually had a different idea, myself, but that could definitely work. And it would still be functional even if there wasn’t snow, unlike my idea.”

“How does this look?”

Matt showed Fig the notebook sketch he’d drawn out- it may not have been exactly the way Fig envisioned it, but it was practical and still wonderful and fantastic. This sketch would also serve as the basis for the blueprint for the toy.

Trix bundled his carefully wound bunch together, making sure not to break any of the flowers or leaves of the newly bloomed arrangement, and made his way back into town. He hummed cheerfully, mood boosted by his success.

“Hey, Canelé,” he waved at one of his fellow elves, brandishing his artwork. “What do I do with this?”

“Keep it with you!” she called, grinning at him. He could see her own arrangement, smaller and a perfect hairpiece of flowers and silver leaves for her thick curls. “Hey, Jangle needed some help, could you go assist? It’s all digital, I’m nonsense at that sort of thing!”

He nodded, happy to help, and dashed away. While he wasn’t the most tech-savvy either, he was determined to help where he could, and if that meant figuring out digital files then he could probably find some instruction manual or something.

However, as he made his way into the IT department, with all the strangely shaped computers and the clicking of buttons and keys. “Jangle? I heard you needed help?” he called, looking around, before locating the red-hatted elf.

Jangle waved, but didn’t look up from his desk, still clicking away at his keyboard. His hot cocoa sat untouched on his desk. As Trix peered over his shoulder, he had a sinking feeling that he was not going to be very helpful for this, especially as the email chain of hundreds was scrolled through. Thousands, maybe. Was that a spam chain over there? Goodness. He felt utterly lost. Already his head was spinning again, a panic that he’d been trying to shove away clogging up his throat, like he’d accidentally swallowed a candy cane.

“Oh. Uh. That’s a lot,” he mumbled, staring with wide eyes. “That’s really a lot.”

After fitting the window into its frame(with much difficulty; his antlers were harder to use than Randolph thought), he continued his stroll into a forest in the pole countryside. As Randolph trotted through the crunchy snow (he was thankful to have hooves; he couldn’t imagine how cold it would be without his natural shoes), he began to spot several folk snapping branches off trees and making a bouquet of sorts.

Randolph couldn’t tell if this was a Christmas tradition, people gathering firewood, or hired hand pruning branches. However, as he ran past several people, some their branch bouquets burst and sprouted flowers in their arms.

Interesting. Instantaneous flowers.

Maybe this was a Christmas tradition. Well, if he participated in one, he may as well participate in another.

Pruning branches was pretty easy for him, since all he had to do was shake his head in front of a tree. Branches showered down in front of him as they were cut by his antlers. After going from one tree to the next, he managed to make a bunch of branches ranging from apple to basil.

After gathering the health bunch up in his antlers, he was taken by surprise when it sprouted instantaneously. Randolph did think it odd for red apples to have pink flowers. He looked around to see what the others were doing with theirs, and saw that most people were walking out of the forest with their bouquets.
I guess I’ll take mine home. Wouldn’t hurt to have some decoration.

Matt had followed Fig to the IT area. He was well versed with computers, himself, and understood that computers were tools; they could be great assets to have, or unparalleled distractions.

As he watched one of the other elves flipping through e-mails, something caught his attention. He knew it really was none of his business to check out the naughty and nice lists, in addition to any gift requests, but this particular email seemed rather strange. It was lots and lots of repeating characters…

“…Wait. Do you mind if I take a look at that email you’ve pulled up?”

When he just got a blank look in response, Matt elaborated.

“I can see a pattern; the different characters form lines and shapes, while similar characters form textures. I’ve seen this used in interfaces in cyberspace before. Try zooming out, maybe we’ll see something if we go back far enough.”

Once the picture became clear, Matt recoiled slightly. “…That’s horrifying. And impressive, at the same time. Whoever did this knows how to make ASCII art.”

“What’s this?”

Nutella poked her head into Jangle Ciderhug’s office, snow still covering her head like a snug white hat, though now she carried a bucket-sized flask of hot chocolate between her gloved hands. She stopped in her tracks immediately (her thermos too, and some hot chocolate sloshed over the side), wincing as she saw the brick of characters and texts in an email.

“Oh. Jeez. That’s interesting. Hm. Are you sure some kid just wanted a puppy and sent one of those artistic text-dogs things that are a bit too weird?” She pointed at another email.

dear santa- i want a doggies plez (^❍ᴥ❍ʋ^)

“Something a bit more like this, maybe? Something that…y’know, remotely even looks like a dog?” Nutella’s eyes flickered back to the brick. “Wait a second.” She leaned closer toward the computer and brushed a snowflake off the screen. “That looks familiar. Does anyone know what it is?”

“Ah,” Fig said, taking the mouse with a few gentle taps and a quick hand flutter. The image, still wavering on Jangle’s screen, was distorted by Jangle’s anti-glare screen at first, but soon Fig could see it clear.

“I know exactly what that is! It is Krampus! I had thought maybe we would have a break from him for a bit! Something is not right - why would anyone put a picture of Krampus on an email to Santa?”

Fig looked at the image again. It was pure evil.

“Whatever you do, don’t click on that puppy. We have to be careful we don’t get a computer virus,“ (Fig said this last as if they knew what it meant, but was clearly not really familiar with the term) “and be super vigilant. Someone is up to something…”

What Fig really wanted to do was pull the wire out of the router and block this whole thing. But they knew that was not really an option - and would not really resolve things even if it was…