Unusual Heroes
Author's notes – it's nearly Christmas/ Hogswatch, so it seems only right that I produce a story celebrating this Winter Solstice time of year. This is my first Discworld attempt, set during the Hogfather. Enjoy!
Snow had fallen, blanketing Ankh-Morpork in white, like an enthusiastic baker spilling icing sugar over the top of a particularly dirty cake. As the snow continued to fall, Sarah, the Little Match girl, lay huddled in the doorway of a shop, slowly freezing to death. She could no longer feel the cold, the snow, anything, since her whole body was now numb with the cold. She was sure that there was ice in the air, in her lungs, her throat, her very bones, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe. She knew that she was dying, and was surprised to find that she was not afraid. Indeed, she could no longer feel anything at all, no pain, since she had lost all sensation in her body, but there was a mild sense of regret at the realisation that she would not live long enough to see Hogswatch, or indeed, anything much, ever again, as Death was sure to come for her, to pick her up in his bony hands, to take her away and into the unknown, on this cold and frosty night1.
She was vaguely aware that she was drifting in and out of consciousness, and thought she saw, just for the briefest moment, Death approaching her. This was a distinct possibility; Death was an anthropomorphic personification who sometimes came to collect those that had recently died himself, and he took a certain amount of pride in his work, despite how thankless his task usually was. But Sarah could have sworn, just for a moment, that he was dressed as the Hogfather, a jolly fat man in a red and white costume. Of course, that was ridiculous; Death was a full time job, and this was his busy period2, it was not as if he went around subbing for any other anthropomorphic personifications to earn a bit of extra money3. I must be seeing things, thought Sarah, perhaps that is what happens when you die4. She got the strange sensation of being lifted up, and then being placed into the hands of someone else. She thought she heard, in the voice of tombstones5, someone saying that she was to be taken somewhere warm, was to be given food and looked after. Then she heard beautiful music, accompanied by a blinding white light, the sound of trumpets and all that jazz. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw sparkly angels with harps and halos, wings and white dressed, looking very affronted as they were pelted with snowballs by a very ugly pixie, until they vanished, as quickly as they had arrived.
She looked up to see two people dressed in armour. One was a small individual of indeterminate age and species, who kept looking from her back to a very large weapon in his hands, which could probably do a great deal of damage, judging by the slightly deranged look in his eyes. The other person seemed to be a perfectly normal human, who had the habit of quoting religious verses, and complaining about the crash commercialisation of Hogswatch. They did not seem like normal Hogswatch heroes, and they were arguing with each other, saying that they had clearly been chosen to do some Hogswatch charity, despite it not being particularly charitable to thrust charity quite literally into their arms. But they seemed to be good natured enough in their own way, and they took Sarah back to a place that was surprisingly warm and cosy.
Sarah was wrapped in a blanket, and placed in a chair by the small fire. Slowly, feeling returned to her body, as she rubbed her hands together to get rid of the bitter cold. The small one gave her a plate consisting of half eaten turnips, carrots and mushrooms, but she was so hungry that the meagre feast might have been a ten course meal of fancy foods with lots of strange Quirmian names6, and she felt a strange feeling of content. She smiled silently to herself; if this was some form of heaven, it was nothing like she remembered hearing about, despite one of her saviour's slightly annoying habit of quoting religious verses, but in a way it was almost better, more homely and comforting, with people that she could relate to, despite, or perhaps because of, their annoying ways. She snuggled deeper into the slightly torn blanket that she had been given. This was a Hogswatch miracle, she realised, and she had been saved, given a life, a future, by some very unlikely heroes. And she felt determined to make the most, in the coming year, of this great gift that she had been given for Hogswatch.
1 She had no idea of exactly how right she was in this respect.
2 Not that there were any periods when he was not busy.
3 Because, apart from anything else, he did not need to buy very much. He made everything he needed and wanted in his own domain, and rarely ate anything (since, after all, he was a skeleton) with the exception of the occasional curry.
4 Sometimes people do see things when they die. Sometimes they see things that are not, actually, there. But sometimes, they see things which are there, which those that are not dying or magic cannot normally see. This was what was actually happening here. Death had indeed been subbing for the Hogfather, since the Hogfather had been…er…unavoidably indisposed due to the activity of criminals, assassins and the Auditors of reality. This had led to a bunch of really weird things happening (even by Discworld standards) due to all of the extra belief which had been sloshing around the place, leading to, among other things, the Verruca Gnome, the oh god of Hangovers, and the Cheerful Fairy, suddenly popping into existence due to the aforesaid extra belief sloshing around. That is what happens when you try to interfere with the activities of Anthropomorphic Personifications, rather than just leaving them alone to get on with their jobs.
5 Tombstones do not usually talk, unless one has recently consumed large quantities of alcohol and/or strange mushrooms. Then they can be surprisingly chatty.
6 The sort of meal that the wizards of Unseen University (UU) typically consume at this time of year.