Secret Santa: A Tzen Chronicles Fanfiction
By Martin Spire Jr.
Disclaimer: I don't own – Philip Troy does. It's an awesome book, by the way. Pick it up if you get the chance. It's a bit pricy, but worth it. There's a sequel coming out soon, I hear.
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Martin drummed his fingers on the counter of the jewelry store. His eyes stared calmly into those of the man behind the register. The two of them seemed to be engaged in a staring contest. Martin won. Even for a man barely twenty years old, his gaze was virtually renowned for its ferocity.
"S-sir, are you sure? I mean… it's the most expensive item in the store…" the clerk caved, looking at the register's price screen.
"Absolutely," Martin placed the exact change on the counter and picked up the package, carefully wrapped in gold foil and left the store without another word. The package was scarcely larger than four inches on all six sides – a perfect cube. Atop the package was a thin red ribbon.
Behind him, the clerk shook in his shoes. The man who had just left the shop had been exuding the most intimidating aura he had ever seen.
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It was Christmas. The snow fell softly, catching on Martin's Loden Coat as he walked through Steilacoom. He had put the gift in his inner pocket to keep it dry. He cast his orange eyes around, looking for trouble. Scratch that. Looking for avoidable trouble. He didn't want any right now.
The coffee shop was open, despite it being Christmas Eve. The sign on the door advertised that they were closing early – at five instead of six. Big difference. Martin pushed the door open and stepped inside. Big Band music filled the air from a few speakers, and the barista was leaning on the counter, tapping her flip flop against her heel in time with the music. Martin got all the way up to the counter before realizing that the blonde was in a half-doze; her eyes closed and her mind shut down to the world.
"Two hot chocolate and two brownies," he said, startling her awake. She looked around sheepishly before scurrying off to get the brownies and make the cocoa. Martin dropped the fare on the counter and waited.
She came out and handed him the cups and brownies, the latter in a small paper bag. Martin nodded toward the change and left without another word, leaving the barista staring at his back. He traversed the remainder of his journey in silence, enjoying the snowfall as he walked.
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It was seven when he arrived at his destination. Alena Steward's house was dark, the lights having been turned off in early anticipation of the morning's celebration. He grasped one of the Air Threads and murmured the proper Incantation before floating up and through an open window.
By sheer luck, it was Alena's room. She was curled on top of her covers wearing nothing but a white nightgown. Martin felt his face heat up. He gingerly placed a cup of hot cocoa on her nightstand and cast a minor Flame Incantation to keep it warm until morning and then put the small box on her nightstand.
He paused on the way out and placed two fingers against her ankle. Her skin was freezing. As quietly and softly as he could, he pulled the blanket up over her shoulders, feeling her relax. To his surprise, she began to stir. With a flying leap, he was out the window. He hovered there for a moment, looking back through the window at Alena. "Merry Christmas."