A/N: I'm so sorry this has taken so long to update! There have been quite a few things happening for me this year, but I hope to continue this story at my own pace in the future! There won't be any kind of upload schedule, but Im not abandoning the story! Enjoy chapter 11!

"JACK! Open up!"

A couple of very polite knocks were not doing it, so after those, Lucy tried slamming her fist on the door a few times, to the same silence. Standing on Jack's front porch the forest that surrounds the place has now been very properly snow capped into the definition of a winter wonderland one would come to expect.

But it was still cold as all get out and she couldn't stand out here all day, especially not on Christmas Eve, as her very on-theme holiday sweater dress under her puffer coat was enough of a give away.

After another hard knock she frowns with a huff at the door. She tosses around the idea of maybe going through some kind of back door when she spares a glance to the doorknob, narrowing her eyes at it slightly in thought.

Surely it can't be that easy right?

She gives the doorknob a suspicious look before quickly finding out that yes, the front doors were unlocked. Disappointed but ultimately not surprised. This guy hasn't exactly had access to a locked door in seven years. She keeps her guard up when entering, slowly pushing open one of the doors and quietly stepping inside. The air inside was just as cold as it was outside, still a bit stale.

A small pit forms in her stomach as Lucy takes another couple steps into the entryway, not feeling the greatest about entering this guy's place without permission first. She cranes her neck in one direction and then the other and sees and hears no signs of him. The stretch of the interior in comparison to the outside still makes her head spin, but given the supposed size of the house, it makes sense he hasn't heard her yet.

"Jack? You here?"

When there's yet again no response, he's given her little choice other than to go looking for him.

The white molded walls and wooden floors of the hallways seemingly invite her presence in its desolate silence, like the house itself has been aching for company. She hadn't gotten the chance to see any of the inside in any detail yesterday, but since Jack has still not appeared this was, she supposes, as good of an excuse as any.

Darker blue accent walls, chandeliers, columns and paneling and choice pieces of stained glass in the shapes of frost patterns made a few appearances as she wandered, periodically calling out for Jack all the while. She takes great care not to open any doors that weren't so already, and only taking a cursory peek into the ones that were before moving on when they yielded no results.

After seemingly scanning the entirety of the first floor, a morbid thought told her that maybe he wasn't inside at all. The idea of him somehow escaping yet again crosses her mind in a way that was less humorous than she thought it would be.

But low and behold the open french doors at the very end of this particular hallway did finally reveal to her the great, illusive and apparently hard of hearing, Jack Frost. Both of the doors in their frosted glass panes opened to give her the view of his back turned as she quietly approached, trying not to disturb him as he seemed lost in thought.

An eclectic board of papers in front of him, keeping him distracted. His gaze lingering on one torn page, fairly hidden underneath the rest in the very back. A sepia piece of parchment displaying an inked illustration of a goat-like entity, the only text visible at the top reading: KRAMPUS…

"I cannot believe you went behind my back and did this!" Jack snapped, trying to walk away from the red-haired man and the conversation he's trying to continue.

"What other choice did you leave me with? To politely ask you to quit because, surprise! I DID! Get off your mountain top for one second to see that this whole thing is idiodic!" The man argues back, following him into the stone covered room that is his home, trying to get his partner's attention, watching helplessly as Jack gathers his cloak to leave.

"It isn't! It's important to me which means it's important to you!"

"You're important to me!"

"Oh, is that what this is?! This is me being important to you? If I was so important you wouldn't be running around running my plans and mocking me in the process!"

"This is because you need a wake-up call, and I love you too much for you to strangle yourself in some petty rivalry!"

Those three particular words made Jack stop for just a moment. Stealing his breath for only a second but unable to turn around, knowing if he does, he loses. And with the silence that it created the man deflated just a bit, getting a second of reprieve, walking up behind him with his footsteps completely silent.

"This isn't going to get you anywhere," he carefully explains, tentatively putting a hand on Jack's shoulder. "You're never here, you're never anywhere I can find you, and I know you've been avoiding me for this."

Jack pinches the bridge of his nose and allows him, by a hanging thread, to come up so close to him, "Well is it any wonder?"

"This isn't about me."

"Oh, isn't it? I think it is; I think you're following me around like a lost dog for the attention I already give you," he briefly pauses, "What else do you want from me?"

The man behind him tries keeping his composure, "I'm not asking for anything unreasonable. I want to actually be able to see you sometime. I want just one reason why hating him seems to be more important…than us."

There was a lull and Jack didn't respond. Because there was no reason.

This had been going on for centuries, ever since St. Nick was granted magic and hopped onto the council. It seemed, to Jack, that nothing was more important than taking him down a peg. He's gotten too comfortable in his season to not do something about it. Mother Nature looks down on the first Santa with pride, everyone adores this guy for making winter "tolerable".

But right now, this man standing behind him, the one he promised over a thousand years ago, still doesn't get that. His partner's plight completely goes over his head, still wrapped up in the scheme he tried to pull. He sabotaged his chance of knocking Santa down a peg. It was perfect, it would've been perfect had this man not meddled in his business.

In this moment the reality became clear of just how tethered he was; how tangled in this specter he had let himself get. A regular ball and chain that held no sanctity for running him, and keeping him from his goals, his dreams. It was no way to live when the world was waiting for him.

The silence was all the answer the man had but didn't want to believe. His grip sliding down from his shoulder to carefully, apprehensively, take Jack's hand. A silent plea to not let this be over just yet, unwilling to let him go, just for another moment longer.

But the sincerity trying to creep into Jack's skin burned. He was burning him from the inside out, suffocating in this thing that was once so freeing for a long time. A comforting flame out in the cold that had now turned into a blazing forest fire. It was unbearable, and he shifts his weight on his feet when he feels the need to pull his hand away.

But he didn't do that.

He did something much worse.

Before either of them knew what was happening, Jack squeezed his hand tighter, keeping him in one place as he snaps back over his shoulder. In a flash, before he had any time to react, while he was open and his guard was down, the temperature plummeted, and all 1,237 years were snuffed out in a single moment.

Jack left with his cloak in hand, without remorse.

A decade or two later is when the nightmares started.

Of course, he'd be thinking about all of that now, with all of this right in front of him.

The large cork board with scraps of paper stuck to it stood in this particular study he used to linger in a lot. Thinking, plotting probably the better term, brooding on occasion about Christmas and his planned downfall for it. All different kinds of leaflets, floor plans and brochures adhered to it in a manic form, "waiting for the day" that never arrived.

'He deserved it,' Jack tries to keep reasoning with himself, 'The man lived to torment me and apparently still does. He's the one who sabotaged me first. The Krampus scheme wasn't even that good anyway.'

"Jack?"

His perfect line of logic is interrupted, his heart flying into his throat when Lucy just appears next to him.

"Wha—how—I—HOW did you get in here!?"

Lucy looks at him as though he's stupid, "Uh, the door was literally unlocked? I tried knocking and yelling, literally through this whole place and you didn't answer. Are you okay?"

He scoffs and straightens out his coat, "Peachy. But you still need a bell on you or something, you'll end up killing somebody doing that."

She rolls her eyes at the comment but is more interested in the corkboard he was just lost in. She carefully undoes one of the thumbtacks on a paper closer to the top and looks over the cease-and-desist notice in her hands. Applied for by one Soloman Clark (Santa Claus) to Jack Frost and signed in certification by Mother Nature.

Lucy Deadpans at him, holding the paper out for emphasis, "Really dude?"

"Oh, what do you know about any of this?" he huffs, roughly grabbing the paper out of her hands, "It's called ~Manifesting~."

"Dude, this is like, the most sickening moodboard I've ever seen," she scrunches her nose a bit as she re-tacks the paper back in place. "Do you not have friends or something?"

He slowly turns his gaze to her and offendedly crosses his arms, "What exactly are you implying? I have friends."

"Oh yeah? Name one friend," she defiantly crosses her arms, mirroring his stance.

He doesn't answer immediately, his expression unmoving and Lucy thinks she has him before he says, "Her name is Minerva. Minnie. Works in crystal sales. Now if you don't mind, tours over, out. I can have you charged for breaking and entering you know."

She tries keeping her eyes on the corkboard for another moment longer, but he manages to efficiently usher her out of the room. She silently wonders the probability of him making up this "friend" for the sake of the argument. The question of Does Jack Frost Have Friends still remains, to her, unanswered.

She is further pushed out of his home and into the unfenced backyard, the evergreens on all sides enclose them in the large clearing, with the sound of the far-off river rushing around the side and back behind the house, feeding into the human domain.

Lucy stands far enough away with her staff at the ready, practicing summoning small, temporary barriers as best she can to block any snow drifts from entering her vicinity. His core betrays him, and she can't help being curious. Her vision is the one power she really has down pat, and it's been very handy to have around considering how good his poker face is.

"You were really lost in there for a while," she eventually speaks up, swishing the staff to the side to block a wave of snow at her feet. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine," he lies, making a similar motion with his hand to send another wave back to her. "I was just thinking about how we can possibly improve your deplorable multitasking game."

She swishes her barrier to the other side but the snowplows around her in a circle and smacks into her ankles from the opposite side, "What! No, it's getting better! Cut me some slack here, multitasking is hard even for non magical stuff."

"Well, you're going to have to get a lot better at it. We're going for expert here," he reaches his open palm towards the ground, glowing and summoning the snow to rise into droplets that condense into perfect snowballs, raising them above his shoulders. "But I'm sure even you can handle a simple 'keep your eye on the ball' task."

He flicks one of his fingers to send two snowballs flying at her in quick succession. She gets back into the readied stance and catches the first snowball with her magic but does not react in time to catch the second. Or the third. Or the fourth as he just keeps sending them her way, watching her catch maybe every other one if she's lucky. She sends the ones she does catch back to him, trying and failing to hit him as the exercise demands (she suspects he's been making them swerve out of the way before they could hit him).

"Alright now switch, hands only," Jack momentarily stops the barrage to allow her to switch.

Lucy huffs, takes her staff and plunges the bottom end into the snow a few paces behind her, keeping it firmly in place and out of the way, "Jeez man, is this how all folklore learn this stuff?"

He shakes his head, "It's not usually this much of a rush job, but practically speaking yes. Sprites are taught this stuff as children, honing it all their lives. Spirits though? You're actually pretty on the money for that. It's…how I was taught anyway."

Lucy notices this tiny dip of hesitance in reference to his upbringing, a small sliver that she decides to circle back to later. She gets back into position with her hands glowing and her palms facing Jack. "That reminds me," she says, catching another snowball in the air, promptly sending it back with a flick of her wrist, "Spirits! You never got back to me on how you guys aren't technically immortal."

He subtly rolls his eyes, "You never let anything slip do you, Miller?"

She catches the next snowball a few inches away from her palm, "—Never! —" Before another one goes flying right past her head, swishing by some fly away hairs. "...I never let anything slip! Ever. Now let me have it. I know some of them are humans and I guess they uh, die the same way other humans do. But what about you magical guys? Since I guess you guys will kinda be like my coworkers now. If you think about it."

"I'll tell you, none of the others are good company for 'water cooler' talk.

Jack pauses for a moment and tilts his head side to side nonchalantly, almost debating to indulge her. But he can't pass up the opportunity to be the smartest one in the room as he constructs and raises up eleven more snowballs in the air, "Eleven spirits. Some are—"

"Twelve."

He looks confused for a minute before she points a glowing finger at herself.

"Twelve, counting me as of a week ago," she explains with a large enthusiastic grin.

Jack begrudgingly relents, "Right, twelve." He summons another snowball to join the rest. "Now three—uh four of them are humans," a small motion of his finger raises four snowballs higher in the air for emphasis. "This means the magic fields have chosen human hosts to carry its power."

He sends the four snowballs flying all at once, and Lucy lunges forward to try and grab them all, managing to catch two in each hand but leave the others to zip past her on either side.

"Rather than the more superior option of making a physical body from scratch," he makes the remaining eight snowballs in the air rise in fall in a sequential wave pattern.

"Aka: everybody else," Lucy comments, letting the snowballs drop and crumble to the ground.

"Bingo. And we dont die from age, but only when we get too injured. If our bodies are too damaged we do something called Resetting. Which is essentially when a spirit's magic self-implodes to reset and reform their body. POOF."

He motions for one of the snow balls to float down and hover just above his open palm. The ball glowing and abruptly exploding into powered snow and sparkles, twisting and spiraling in the spherical shape it once was in the air.

Lucy focuses in on the swishing magic from afar and drops her arms a bit, letting the glow of her hands fade away.

"And once they're back to square one the magic just makes a new body," the snow and ice magic in his hand starts spinning and solidifying, in a flash returning the snowball to its original state. He lets the snowball drop into his hand and swiftly throws it at Lucy, who's reflexes were just fast enough this time to magically catch it as it almost flies past her head. She plucks it from the air and glances at it in her gloved hands as he takes in the information.

"Poof?" she raises an eyebrow, "Does that hurt?"

"To us? I don't think so. Does it leave a very generous crater at the detonation site? Absolutely. Anyone standing close by might be more at risk than the spirit themselves."

Her eyes widened, "Crater? You said POOF!" She makes a small gesture of an explosion with her free hand.

"Yeah! It's still a poof but just with…a little extra punch," he grins, momentarily throwing his hands behind his back.

Lucy shakes her head and drops the snowball onto the ground, trying to brush over that sentiment for now, "So, you explode and then you're good to go?"

"Mostly. There is a slight chance that a reset, depending on how bad it is, can uh, possibly erase one's memories. Or their whole personality. Or…themselves entirely," he states in a contrastingly lighthearted tone, mindlessly sending one of the remaining seven snowballs flying at Lucy for her to catch.

Lucy locks eyes with him in a form of low level horror and shock before the snowball smacks into her shoulder. She sputters and spits away any splash zone snow from her mouth, "I—WHAT? What does that mean? You guys get erased?"

Jack rolls his eyes, "There's only a percentage of a change of that happening. It's a rarity for anyone to get fully erased. Which basically means that instead of turning back into you, your magic gets recycled and turned into a whole new person. Nothing wasted!"

"Oh my god," Lucy quietly says. "Has anyone ever done that before?"

"The full service? Only the groundhog I think," Jack grimaces. "I liked the previous one a lot better if i'm being honest. At least he had the decency to not speak in horrible riddles so often."

"Have you ever been reset before?"

He scoffs, "Ha! Not on your life. I'd like to think I'm much more careful than that. It just seems like it would be such an inconvenience to your day."

"Okay then who has?"

He shrugs, "I know Mother Nature and Father Time have; definitely no memory loss there. But as for the rest of the peanut gallery I cannot say."

Lucy pauses for a second to recalibrate the new information, "That's…actually awful just so you know. Like, that's terrifying! That you could just get hurt one day and then just POOF, ya dead!"

"Oh come on, it's only a sliver of a chance we could 'die' technically speaking. It's all well and fine, perfectly normal."

She crosses her arms with a firm expression of resignation, "I guess!"

"It's better than what you guys do. You and the animals just leave your bodies around wherever you drop and it turns into such a mess."

"It'S pErFeCtLy NoRmAl," she mocks.

"It is! But what's not normal is you still struggling with this multitasking thing."

Lucy huffs indignantly, "My multitasking game is fine. Besides that can't be the only thing that's important to this. What other stuff can we work on?"

"You're avoiding the topic and your in denial."

"So then we have two things in common," she mutters under her breath.

"What?"

"I said we need to switch it up. Do something different for a change!"

His jaw tightens, annoyed at the unheard comment as he lets out a sharp sigh, "Fine then. There are several things you need to improve on, but for now we can focus on quality of quantity."

Lucy raises a suspicious eyebrow, "What does that mean?"

"Firstly, it means, thinking on your feet."

Jack raises one of hands and lets the remaining snowballs in the air dissolve, swirling around and flying in a stream back behind him. There's a small haze of something in the air, the ground underneath them shifts and groans. A massive amount of snow rises in a towering wall, consuming the space of the clearing in a white out avalanche.

Without the warning the snow flies forward, snaking around him in the center but ambushing Lucy in seconds. Her heart drops and she makes a mad dash for her staff, clumsily grabbing it just a second early, keeping it planted but swinging herself around to face the arctic winds when summoning the protective barrier. The snow freight-trains into the wall, spilling around the sides and climbing up the front as more piles on.

In maintaining the shield against the avalanche something slips. Her face relaxes from pinched concentration to hollow indifference, her eyes whiting out, the constellations on her face fading as a crescent moon glows around her left eye.

She plucks the staff from the snow and summons more power, the head of the staff flash-bangs and a laser thin light draws itself down the center of her vision. The snow parts and a wave of her arm sends the two sides outward and away from her, careening and crashing into the far off treeline and into the side of Jack's house.

Seemingly effortlessly done.

The gale-force barrage slowly grinds to halt as the momentum disappears, solely because Jack was too taken aback at the display to concentrate on the attack anymore. The snow stills and gently falls to the ground as the barriers give a small final push before disappearing as well. Everybit of light from her disappearing, the moon on her face fades as she blinks the white in her eyes away.

…

"Did—Did you just MOSES my blizzard?"

Lucy gets only a second of peace before the crushing headache sets in, "Augh! w-what?"

Jack looks around as if there were any others to witness the event, "Uh, where did that come from? You've been holding out on me, huh? Didn't think I needed to know about much firepower we're working with here!?"

"What are you talking about?" She winces and hisses, barely registering what he said, using her free hand to cradle the side of her head. "God, again with the migraines!"

Jack stands a bit dumbfounded, slightly baffled and looks at her as if she has three heads, "Did you not know you could do that?"

Lucy truly doesn't know what he's talking about, but in the moment unable to care with the crushing pressure in her skull distracting her. She forgets to answer all together and leaves Jack in the lurch with a possibly injured human.

"Are…you okay?" He quirked an eyebrow and slowly steps towards her.

She barely shakes her head, "Do you have any ibuprofen or something? Medicine?"

"Did you pull something doing that?"

"Probably."

He takes another silent moment to watch her lift her head back to eye level, still holding her temple with her eyes sewn shut. He eventually sighs, resigning himself to turn around and walk back to the house, "Just wait there. I can look but I can't promise anything."

Lucy watches him walk away, a tiny pained smile creeping onto her features before she kneels down onto the snow to keep her head from spinning, "I'm gonna vomit on your snow."

"Swallow it!"

"Ope, nope, here it goes. BLUEAGH!" Lucy manages to keep making exaggerated gagging and choking sounds for Jack's entire stroll back to the house, reiterating for as long as he'll hear her about how painfully she's currently dying, before laying down in the snow when he's out of ear shot, secretly nursing the terrible pain until he returns.

For Christmas Eve, Elfsburg is much in the same state as the workshop itself. Crossing traffic of elves moving across the townsquare, some in more of a hurry than others as the day is finally upon them. Getting to where they ought to be to make any final, last minute, preparations before Santa takes off later that evening. A beehive buzzing, taking hold of the air in every corner in a way that coffee invigorates the nerves. Not far off from the state of a good chunk of the elves on the move today.

And through the hurry of the locals in the city center, the ever important sleigh that would be used later tonight carts through the streets, the hooves of the reindeer and the runners kicking up powered snow along the way. The collective of the "Claus" children sit in the back seats as Curtis takes the helm and navigates through the streets.

"They…poof? You said poof right? That's the official term?"

"That's what he told me! That's the exact word he used," Lucy responded to Charlie sitting to her right, "And I'm inclined to believe him just because it seems too ridiculous not to be true."

"That seems very needlessly aggressive."

"Right? That's what I'm saying! And then there's a chance they still die anyway. And then literally become a different person!"

"What?"

"Yeah! It's rare but apparently it can still happen. It's lame."

"Sounds lame," he pauses, "But, I bet the explosions are pretty awesome. All explosions are cool by default, and magic ones just add extra points."

Buddy, to Lucy's left, shakes his head, flipping around the puff bobble on top of his hat, "No, I don't like explosions. I had a bad dream once with an explosion and it wasn't awesome."

"Oh, what was your dream about?" Lucy asks.

He stutters for a moment and looks down at the footboards of the sleigh, giving half noncommittal sentences before eventually coughing it up, "I had a dream that Dad crashed the sleigh on his route."

It was uttered with such a sense of apprehension the collective of the occupants stiffened at the atmosphere shift. The two older siblings share a quick glance of solemn sympathy, now understanding why it was such a hassle to get him into the sleigh in the first place before they left when he's known this sleigh all his life.

Lucy takes a hold of Buddy's shoulders and pulls him a bit closer, "You know, me and Charlie have had worries like that about Scott all the time."

Buddy glances up at her and leans his head onto her arm, "Yeah?"

"Of course. I was around your age when he first started," Charlie adds, "He was still new at it then, so imagine how much I worried when he only did it the first couple times."

"And now he's already done it almost twenty times. Nothing is gonna go wrong, Bud."

Buddy, looking slightly more relieved, relaxes against his seat a tad more, "That's what Bernard said. I got to have a night snack afterwards and he said that dad is safe with all the elves looking out for him."

"Exactly," Lucy says, "And Bernard is the expert, always listen to Bernard."

"He's really smart. He told me that The Boogeyman made the bad dream I had, but nothing is actually going to happen."

Charlie raises an eyebrow, "The Boogeyman?"

"Yeah. He said that I'm always on the nice list so he can't hurt me."

"Wait wait wait," Lucy interjects, "Bernard? Talking about it as if The Boogeyman was real?"

"Obviously he's real," Curtis cuts in from the driver's seat, tightening the grip on the reins for a soft turn onto another street. "Why wouldn't he be?"

Lucy gives a concerned and incredulous look to the back of the elf's head, "I don't know, but I'd rather he didn't. Out of all the cool magical things to actually exist, that one was not at the top of my list."

"Wait, he IS real?" Charlie leans forward in his seat.

"Yes! Your dad and uncle are literally Santa Claus. We are in The North wouldn't The Boogeyman be real?"

"I don't know," Lucy defends, "I've just never thought about it up until now. Do you know how long ago I stopped believing in the boogeyman?"

"And now you're saying that there's actually something hiding in closets and under beds?" Charlie adds with an air of dread.

"Oh definitely. After a few hundred years though you get used to the idea, he just ends up being more annoying than anything," Curtis scrunches his nose a bit. "Still don't like him though."

"Wait but, I thought that Sandy was the one who handles dreams and stuff?" Charlie questions.

"He only does the good ones, the nice dreams. The Boogeyman does nightmares, but can we not talk about him? On Christmas eve? Annoying as he is, I'd rather not take any chances."

"What he's gonna jinx us?" Lucy asks.

"You say his name three times and you summon him like beetlejuice? How many times have we said it now?" Charlie jokes.

"Well I think we've already said his name that many times and he still hasn't shown up, so now i'm also disappointed."

"What's Beetlejuice?" Buddy innocently questions.

His two older siblings share a look of caution to each other before Charlie answers, "It's a movie. That we can all watch together when you're older."

"That one will definitely give you nightmares," Lucy adds with a well-meaning grin.

Buddy sits in this thought of what this film could possibly be about for another second before the destination for the trio quickly comes into view. Curtis pulls the sleigh off to the side of the street, stopping just in front of the main entry point.

It's raised on a small platform, two sets of steps leading up to two complementary sets of double doors. Under the colorful glass overhang. The front section facing them is square but the largest part of the building behind it is circular, topped with a glass dome held together and adorned with a dark iron frame, bended and swirled to give the impression of a butterfly's wing. The heavy oak sign hanging above the center most doors reads: North Pole Forge Center.

Buddy and Charlie step out and off of the right side of the sligh, while Lucy lunges over the front seats and past Curtis at the front compartment to grab a two carrots before jumping out herself. She skips around to the front of the sleigh and feeds each reindeer their own carrot, "Thanks for the help boys," she smiles while petting one of their snouts.

Her brothers nearby are about to walk up the steps without her when all their attention is grabbed by an elf woman nearly slamming the front doors open, "Curtis! Took you long enough!"

Curtis chokes slightly and fumbles to stand up and to attention with one arm in a salute, "Mrs. Buchanan!"

The woman grins while descending the steps to greet the visitors, "At ease soldier, just pulling your leg." This immediately lets Curtis deflate back with a relieved sigh.

The Claus family are quick to notice that she must be some kind of authority around here. The auburn of her hair is in the process of graying, but still quaffed to the heavens that would make anyone from the eighties jealous. The asymmetrical uniform she wears is crease free and freshly pressed, starched stiff even. Her dark eyes scan over the guests and her face wrinkles with her customer service smile, with her arms tucked behind her back.

"I have to say that I was more than a bit surprised to receive my son's call about the Claus children wanting a visit? None of the other human children, let alone other SANTAS, have been interested in the ins and outs of magical way of life."

Lucy raises her hands and speed walks over to join the others, "That was me! I wanted to take a research trip if we had the time to squeeze it in."

"With company!" Buddy adds, waving his arm in the air.

"Well, let me tell you that it's always a pleasure to have a curious mind wander over this side of the pole," she holds out her hand for all of them to shake, "Nadene Buchanan, at your service! Forge supervisor, sector E cluster 25. I'm what you might call head honcho for this place."

Charlie is the first to return her shake, "You said your son called ahead for us? Who's your son?"

Nadene lights up like a fireworks display and gives Lucy a more vigorous shake when it's her turn, "Oh, all of you being related to Santa, you all common the workshop, yes?"

Lucy and the rest nod, "Yes ma'am."

"Well then you already know him!" she says, making a point to stoop down lower to shake Buddy's hand with a wink, "He's the head elf up there."

Everyone freezes and looks like deer in the headlights, connecting the dots and landing somewhere between amused befuddlement.

"Bernard? You're Bernard's mom!?" Charlie and Lucy exclaim in sync.

"The one and only!" her grin grows wider as she reaches into her coat and pulls out an equally pr wallet. She flips it open with her thumb and a myriad of accordioned photos fold out, indeed showing not only her and a much younger looking Bernard but also two other older men in the images; One with short, orange hair in a heavy coat, and the other with darker skin, a full beard and tiny circular glasses.

All three of them look over the photos with utter shock, teetering on the edge of giddy excitement. There was a photo for nearly every stage of Benrards life, including a very unfortunate, very gangly, teenage phase where it looks as though he hasnt grown into either his ears or his hair, which makes the lot of them chuckle a bit.

"Proud mother of one for 2,634 years and counting!" Nadene proudly proclaims.

Lucy holds the end of the fold out and gazes at one of the photos of him as a small child, his two front teeth missing, surrounded by wood shavings and holding a wooden horse he presumably carved himself, "Aww! Look at him! Look at KID Bernard! He was so cute!"

"Oh my god, Bernard would HATE this if he was here right now," Charlie gawks.

"Oh he always does! Thinks it's embarrassing so he says. But me and his fathers are very proud of him, he's a good elf!"

She recoils the wallet back and turns to Lucy again, "And he said you're the one who insisted upon a visit? Castor?"

"Yes! I'm Lucy, these are my half brothers, Charlie and Buddy. Scott is like my honorary uncle of sorts. I wanted to come here to get a better idea at how uh, well, magic society works I guess? I just got the rundown of how Spirits are made, but I still know close to nothing about sprites."

Nadene lights up again, "Oh, fantastic! One of my greatest passions and listening ear! CURTIS!"

Curtis jumps a bit at the boom of her voice and stands to attention again.

"You can park that sleigh round the side over there. Catch up with us when you're done," she turns around and starts up the steps again, "Won't learn much of anything if you're out here catching frostbite! Hop along Claus', much to do, much to see!"

Nadene promptly skips up the steps on her own merry little way, refusing to wait up for the clan as the siblings follow her in through the ancient doors. Continuing with a struggle to keep up with her eager pace through the main lobby, bobbing and weaving in her path through the beehive of activity. Charlie grabs onto Buddy's hand when traversing through the waves of nursing attendants and administrative staff crossing paths back and forth, pushing carts, holding clipboards and chattering away as they cross in a hurry.

"I've been the supervisor of this forge cluster for nearly 3,100 years. I know this beauty like the back of my hand, inside and out, forwards, backwards and sideways," She explains with a passionate vigor. "The forge cluster, for every magical society, is the beating heart of any civilization. It's where all life comes from, in the form of elven infants."

Buddy is the first to raise his hand and run up to her, breaking out of Charlie's grasp to wave his hand up at her.

"Yes, you in the front," she says with a chuckle.

"Some people say that storks are where babies come from. Do you have storks too?"

Nadene scoffs and shakes her head, "Absolutely not! That's just a rumor that spread around when a few rouge storks got loose and accidentally picked up a few human babies. The forge is much, much more than that."

Her confident steps lead the trio to the outer observation area encompassing the main chamber, surrounded by heavy duty glass. Looking up from the ground floor, about ten feet off of the ground, sitting in the middle of the chamber is the beast in question. As big as a monument, a twisting and writhing mass of peach colored magic, glowing and flaring with pure energy.

Nadene looks upon it with pride, "The forge is more than just the beginning of life, it's also the end of it. This is where our souls and bodies go when sprites die. A full return to sender."

"So it's like reincarnation?" Charlie asks, craning his neck up in front of the glass to see the forge better.

"It's more like biomass recycling. There's no concrete evidence to support the theory of passing over a consciousness, but it's how the population stays regulated. Quite literally out with old in the new. She is a beauty ain't she?"

"Definitely," Lucy quietly affirms, staring in awe at the cluster. "But is there any blood relation then? If everyone comes from this thing then how does DNA work?"

"Of course there's blood relation!" Nades exclaims, holding a hand to her chest. "During its 'up' cycles, when there are more light life's spawning we have families come in and imprint their biologies essentially."

Through the glass the tour group witnesses a brighter spark in the field, zipping around the lower half with the accompanying flashing lights on the walls to signal for something.

"Oh! Looks like someone's gotten lucky! We aren't in a high production cycle right now, but every now and then you get a few out of season sparks."

One set of double doors open on the ground floor below them, a couple of elves are escorted in by two attendants. The husband and wife hold each other's hands as they approach the forge, anxiously nodding along with the nurses' unheard instructions. The lights on the wall stop flashing and turn solid when the little spark peels off from the rest, glowing brighter as it drifts down to the floor. The nurses instruct their form and help them as the light flashes when touching the parents outstretched hands. Magic bouncing between them and the light until they suddenly find a tiny elf baby in their arms.

The lights go back out and an upbeat jingle is played on the speaker throughout the building. The nurses inside the chamber and Nadene give a round of applause; The kids taking the hint and joining in, only stopping when the new parents are moved out of the room, clutching their new son.

"This, you lucky few, is the magical world's lifeblood." Nadene, murmurs. Reverently like a soft, earnest prayer.

The busy noise of the building slowly fades away, Nadene leading the group off to another area, unbeknownst to Lucy who finds herself stuck against the glass. A strange alien pull that refuses to release her gaze from the forge for who knows how long. Any noise in her periphery muffled as the shifting magic calls; beckons not even to her, but something deeper. She stares into the eye of the beholden, the visage of creation.

And the means to destruction.

" d"

She snaps her head around her shoulder, then over next to her other side when a deep, crisp whisper is heard right in her ear. The ambience of shoes on the tile and various chit chat chimes back in an instant as she looks around for the voice but finds no one. No one near her at any rate as the bystanders around her pay her no mind.

A cold shiver runs up her spine. The voice feels as though it should be so familiar, but the only other instance of hearing it back in Antarctica with Jack. That's twice now. She can only hope it's some kind of new power trying to manifest, but hearing spirits, or ghosts or whatever, without seeing them as an ability brings her cold comfort if any at all.

But then a much more familiar voice calls out to her from across the crowded room, "Luce! What's the hold up?"

She glances up to see him waving one of his arms in the air to flag her down. She gives her head a brief shake, trying to wick off this strange deja vu before running after him across the tile.

"Sorry! Sorry I was just…zoned out for a second."

Charlie starts walking next to her when she catches up, Buddy pestering Nadene with more questions clearly seen further down the hall. They keep a casual pace to catch back up to them but Charlie catches the way Lucy stares ahead, looking forward but not focused, both hands clutching the staff closer to her body.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

Lucy briefly glances back at him, shuffling on her stride to shake off the vestiges of the voice, "I—I think so. I just, I swear I thought I heard somebody saying something back there. Like really clearly."

Charlie peaks over his shoulder to where she had been lost in thought, "Like in a magical way or the normal way? Or a normal creep way? I wouldn't think any of these elves are creeps but you do remember how to throw a punch right?"

"Yeah I remember. Still not over how that broke my knuckles by the way."

"It wasn't my fault that your form wasn't right."

"You said to hit hard! I followed instructions," she lets out a small tired sigh. "But no, it's good, there's no creeps. It's definitely more magic stuff. I think it's just really messing with my head."

He puts a comforting hand on her shoulder, "How well are you sleeping? Maybe it's because you're putting so much energy into this training."

"Ya know, i've been feeling less tired lately. Going to bed later, like, way later, and I always feel like I'm getting a good nine hours."

"Is that a magic thing?"

"I would think so. That's definitely a Sandy question, but if the moon isn't doing that I don't know what else could."

"Fair enough. So then you should probably talk with him sooner rather than later."

Her shoulders sag just a bit, "That's what I'm thinking. Maybe even tomorrow before we go back home."

"Ah don't wait up for us. It looks like it's really bothering you, so you should go when you have the chance. Mom and Neil would totally understand and you can tell me all about it after. Winter break isn't over until January fifth, I'll be staying over until school starts again."

She cracks a small tired smile, gently pulling away to walk on her own, "I know. And I will and I appreciate you being here. At this point I'm just gonna need a mega dose of Christmas cheer before taking care of business. As a little treat."

"Ya know, I really wish there was a place to get that. Like, readily available and known for uplifting spirits."

"Somebody should really get on that. It'd be a really popular place."

Charlie and Lucy catch right back up to Buddy. He grabs Lucy's coat as he's tugging her along, chastising her for nearly missing all the babies in the newborn ward! Which she quickly makes up the time for, and serves well enough as a distraction from the prior incident. And soon thereafter going on a wild goose chase to try and find Curtis somewhere in the building after he had gotten lost looking for them, serving as good distraction number two.

Evening sets in the North Pole. Children not only here but around the world make their preparations for Santa's stop in their homes. Everyone safely tucked away in their own homes, out of the bitter cold, falling asleep in the comfort of the warm night to wait for morning.

The operations at the workshop go off without a hitch, a feat which everyone vastly appreciates considering how often the fate of Christmas is always in danger for some reason. But it's safe tonight, Santa goes and comes right back as he always does, returning to the celebration of the workforce and his family before they too turn in for the night. Charlie and Lucy choose to sleep over at the pole for the night, open presents in the morning before going back home the following afternoon.

Lucy rests in a dreamless sleep.

The smaller night crew overlooks the forge cluster, manned by a handful of gracious volunteers to keep an eye on the place for the night. The halls that were busy earlier that day are now still, contently quiet. One of the attendants leans back in his chair at one of the observation bays placed in front of the forge, sound asleep with a small snore. The cold winter wind jutting up against the glass dome of the chamber's roof. Everyone is asleep.

And they're all none the wiser.

Unbeknownst to the employees, the security team, the people of the surrounding homes, someone has made it up the side of the building. In the dead of night, their face shrouded and on a mission as the soles of their shoes faintly squeak against the glass. They manage to scale the dome with inhuman ease, staring down at the glowing cluster under their feet like a ripe fruit. A trail of light jumps at their command, flowing around the circumference of the was a bright light, a blinding flash. An explosion.

The glass shatters.