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A Visitor Part 2
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2024-10-29 19:42:56Corey could hear in her voice that she was no one to be trifled with--not that day anyway. He had been in similar situations before, though never with someone in their youth such as Ms. Fizzlestitch. Generally speaking, the younger the crafter, the more capable he or she was of believing in magic. This was particularly true when it came to young ladies. Nevertheless, Serendipity was beginning to challenge him, and while he was up for the challenge, he was not up for the rain; snow was one thing--rain was something else entirely. “Very well, then,” he replied. “Might I trouble you for a drink of water then?” he called, hoping that he would make more progress with her if he could meet her face to face. Then, she could look into his dazzling green eyes and fall captive to his mesmerizing gaze as so many young ladies had before her.
Serendipity was puzzled. She had not expected him to give up so quickly, nor had she expected him to make any requests of her
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Serendipity looked at his hand as if she had no idea why he had held it out in her general direction. She adjusted Pozzletot on her shoulder. “Thank you for contemplating my work, Mr.….”“Cane, Cornelius Cane. But, please, call me Corey. All of my friends do,” he smiled, his hand still waiting for hers.“Mr. Cane,” Serendipity continued, “but I assure you I am not right for your team. And while I appreciate your consideration, I have neither the desire nor the ability to join you in the North Pole. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have much work to do.”“But that’s the beauty of joining us,” Corey prodded, finally withdrawing his hand, glancing at it as if he were the one with some sort of unsightly stain before resting it on his hip. “There will be hundreds of elves assigned to your shop, Ms. Fizzlestitch. You’ll be in charge of supervising each of them so every doll is crafte
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It didn’t take too long for Corey to navigate back to his home, considering he had magic traveling powers of his own, much like Santa’s though not as powerful, particularly when it came to speed and the manipulation of time. Nevertheless, he found himself pulling into what was now deemed the “airport” landing strip in no time, and the elves who oversaw the transfer of the flying teams to and from the barn quickly set to work freeing the reindeer from their harnesses, inspecting their condition, and moving them back to their stalls where they would be brushed, fed, and watered.Corey did not pause to speak to either the reindeer who had gotten him to and from his destination safely and speedily or the elves that greeted him as they went about their jobs. Instead, still keeping one hand securely in the pocket of his topcoat, he made his way swiftly back to his own lodgings, mindlessly nodding in response to a few passersby who yelled out to him in greeti
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Before she even finished her sentence, Corey was up and making his way toward the swinging kitchen door. Once he entered the kitchen, he could see there was simply no excuse for Mr. Waddlebug not answering him when he had yelled for his servant earlier. He was sitting at the round kitchen table, one elbow supporting his rather large noggin, a well-worn book in one hand and a cup of steaming tea at the ready. When Corey entered, he didn’t even look up, as if he was mentally transported away by the story in hand. “Waddlebug!” Corey spat out in a sharp whisper. The sound of his name caught his attention, and the old elf sat up quickly, rattling the table and sending droplets of tea onto the wooden surface with a splash, his spoon clattering against the side of the china cup.“Sorry, sir,” he replied, righting his spoon and setting the book aside. “I didn’t hear you come in.”Corey had no time to argue.“Get me a j
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When Maevis stopped by later that evening, she found Serendipity fast at work as usual. She was certainly not in a talkative mood either, not that she usually was, but on this particular night, she only made the occasional grunting noise to either agree or disagree with Maevis’s questions. This was particularly true when it came to Maevis’s inquiries about whether or not there had been any follow up to the letter she had discovered earlier.She had asked almost immediately if one of St. Nicholas’s assistants had ever come to speak with her. Serendipity had made an awful noise in the back of her throat, one Maevis took as either a stern “no” or a complete refusal to discuss the matter, so she had dropped the subject, no matter how badly the urge to press further raged within her.After a few more minor attempts at starting a conversation, Maevis finally made an ethereal noise of her own, and crossing her arms sternly said, “Fine then. I
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If Maevis didn’t know Serendipity as well as she did, she might’ve allowed herself to become offended at the dismissive statement. But she knew better than to let Serendipity’s poor manners insult her. The possibility of pressing on anyway crossed her mind, and Maevis opened her mouth to ask another question, but then he closed it abruptly when she realized that Serendipity was done with the conversation before it even began. Giving up, she wrapped her shawl around her shoulders, picked up the basket she had brought with her off of the table, and turned to the door. As she pulled it open, she said, “You should have told me.” There was no answer.“Be careful,” she added as she stepped out, pulling the door to behind her.As she made her way down off of the rickety front steps, she noticed the same footprints in the mud outside.How had she missed them before? There were two matching sets. One that distinctly led up to t
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Serendipity sat the letter down on the table and gave Gypsim her full attention.“What is it, little friend?” she asked.Gypsim scampered over to the letter and began to point at it, as if her information had something to do with the letter. Serendipity didn’t understand. “The letter?” she asked.Gypsim’s head waggled up and down furiously. Serendipity continued. “You want me to know something about the letter?”Again, the mouse agreed.“Can you read the letter?” Serendipity asked, wondering if too many late nights had caused her to become delusional.However, Gypsim signaled that this was not the case. No, a mouse could not read human handwriting. Serendipity was puzzled again. “All right. But it does have something to do with the letter?”This was confirmed, so Serendipity made another guess. “Does it have to do with Mr. Cane?”Gypsim jumped up
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By the time she reached the front door, Serendipity was crying. Pozzletot was one of the few beings in the world she could count as a friend, and the thought of him all alone up in the North Pole, in hiding somewhere, afraid for his life, brought a feeling of overwhelming despair. As her feet pounded up the steps, caked in mud by now, she did not even pause to think about what she was doing, where she was going, or what had happened there; she simply needed help--help that only Maevis could provide.As she threw the heavy front door open, calling her friend’s name, rushing in as she did so, she nearly ran into Ms. Crotlybloom who had come to see what all the racket was. The older woman reached out a thin arm to steady her, but then gasped in horror at the sight. “Serendipity?” she asked, her eyes wide behind her wire spectacles. “Is that you, child?”“Oh, Ms. Crotlybloom!” Serendipity exclaimed, bending over to catch her breath
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“Well?” Mr. Waddlebug asked, impatiently tapping his foot as he stared at the mail shoot. Corey stood beside him, quill pen still in hand, his expression much more subdued. “What is taking so long? Shouldn’t we have heard back from her by now?”“She’ll respond soon enough,” Corey assured him, finally sticking the pen back in the magic ink he had used to write the correspondence to Ms. Fizzlestitch. The mailroom was really something else. This is where all of the letters to Santa--whether through regular post-dispatch or the preferred, up the chimney, method came to be read, considered, and recommended for fulfillment or denial. It is also where Corey came to write his own letters whenever he needed to communicate with a potential recruit. There was a smorgasbord of inks to choose from in every color, as well as every thickness of writing apparatus imaginable. The paper was smooth, the envelopes regal, and Corey always felt impor
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Maevis had spent much of her time in Serendipity’s cottage awaiting word from her ward; would she choose to stay in the North Pole, or would she quickly return via some magic portal or reindeer transport?She had received a bit of an indication that Serendipity may have decided to stay when all of her doll parts suddenly disappeared out of the cottage and Marwolaeth Hall simultaneously. However, she wasn’t quite sure what to make of it without some direct word from Serendipity herself. It was early on the third day when, as she continued to straighten and clean Serendipity’s workspace, the only task she could find to keep herself busy, she heard a bustling at the fireplace at her back. She turned quickly to see a magical envelope dancing atop the blazing fire, and careful not to burn herself, she used the poker to draw out the letter.Upon tearing it open, she read the following, written in the familiar hand of one Cornelius Cane:Dearest Mae
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“I do,” Serendipity nodded, looking into Corey’s eyes. “I’m not exactly sure what it was that happened to me when I was up there on the mountain, whether I truly had the opportunity to speak to my father through some sort of magic, or if it was just some sort of an hallucination brought on by my extremely cold state, but through that experience and talking to Mrs. Claus just now, I’ve come to realize that what happened to my mother and sisters was an accident. It truly wasn’t my fault, and I can’t spend the rest of my life feeling guilty or punishing myself.”A look of relief and a broad smile spread across Corey’s face. “Oh, Serendipity, it’s so wonderful to hear you say those words,” he assured her. “If coming here has allowed you to make that realization, and you should still choose to leave this place, never to return, then I should think this journey a success.”Serendipity s
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“There’s something else, my dear,” Mrs. Claus said, her hands resting on her knees. A smile played around her rosy cheeks as she took a deep breath and continued. “As you may know, in my former life, I was a schoolteacher.”“Oh, yes,” Serendipity nodded. “I had heard that was the case, though I imagine that was several years ago, seeing as though you’ve been Mrs. Claus for all of these years.” Serendipity responded, wondering where this conversation was going.“Did you know, darling, that there are many other intelligent, famous, successful, well-known people who also struggled their whole lives with the tasks of reading and writing?” Mrs. Claus continued, leaning forward to look more closely at the young lady.“What?” Serendipity asked, glancing from St. Nicholas’s smiling face back to his wife’s “Whatever do you mean?”“Oh, yes! People like
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When her eyes flew open, still mumbling her father's final words, it wasn’t the kind and loving face of her father hovering over her but rather the equally concerned, yet slightly unwelcome face of Cornelius Cane.“Corey?” she asked, her voice just above a whisper. “How did you…? Where is my….?” She began looking around the cave, desperately searching for her father. There was not a trace of him anywhere.“Calm down, Serendipity,” Corey insisted, his hand on her shoulder. “You’ll be all right just as soon as we get you to some place warm.”Serendipity noticed then that they were not alone. Snowshoes was standing just in front of the entrance to the cave, the baby reindeer alongside him. “Is that how you found me? With the light from the baby reindeer?”“Yes,” Corey explained. “He was able to find your footprints, and then we followed you here, by the red
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It seemed to take hours for Serendipity to reach the cave opening, even though in actuality it only took a matter of minutes. The snow was pelting her face, making it difficult to see, and her hands were beginning to freeze now, too, right along with the rest of her body. Her footing the last few steps was unsure, and she nearly slipped as she grabbed hold of the rocky entrance way and pulled herself inside.The opening was narrow, and she had to crouch to slip inside, but once she finally made it through the entryway, though the temperature was still well below freezing, the lack of wind and snow seemed to make it more tolerable, and she collapsed on the damp floor against the mossy cave wall.Squirming in her pocket let her know that Pozzletot was still with her, though she did not know what shape he might be in. She didn’t dare take him out to inspect him as she didn’t want to further expose him to the frigid air.“Oh, Pozzletot,” she sa
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“Very good,” Corey replied taking off behind him. “And Hillstern, will you send someone over to alert St. Nicholas? He should be able to use the globe to find her. Perhaps he can transport himself to where she is located.”“I’ll send someone,” Hillstern replied. “If they can reach St. Nicholas in time…. It’s just, you know how hard it is to get an audience with him.”“Tell him it’s an emergency, and that I need his help,” Corey insisted, knowing the elf was right. He watched as Snowshoes took the red light from the wall and began to strap it onto the miniature reindeer the same way that Serendipity had shown him.“How can I help?” he asked.Pulling the strap tightly, the elf gave a stern nod. “That should do it,” Snowshoes assured him. “Now, can you transport us to where you think she might be?”“I have no idea where she migh
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Standing atop the crest of Mt. Menzelfrap looking down at the only two paths that seemed to be options for a young woman running through the ice and snow on foot. Two separate staircases led down the side of the mountain, both treacherous, and neither more friendly looking than the other. He glanced down both of them but saw no sign of Serendipity or her tracks. Of course, with the wind whipping the snow around so fiercely, he could only see a few feet in front of his face. Once again, he yelled her name but only heard the reverberations as they echoed off the mountains around him.He used his magic to transport himself down to the bottom of the stairwell on the left, thinking she may have chosen that one since it seemed to be closest to home. When she wasn’t there, he magicked himself over to the other stairwell. There was still no sign of her. He ran his hands through his hair in desperation. Blindly, he turned about in the snow, trying to think of what he could do to
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“I hope you don’t mind our intrusion, Your Majesty,” Serendipity offered as she stood at her full height. “It’s just, my father used to read stories about you to me as a small child, and I am honored to have the opportunity to meet you at long last.”“Stories? About me?” Ingrid said, smiling. “How lovely! I hope they were all pleasant ones.”“Yes, of course,” Corey interjected. “How could any story written about you be anything but pleasant?”“Indeed,” Ingrid nodded.“And have you read any such stories about my husband, Jack Frost?” she asked, looking at Serendipity.“Jack Frost is your husband?” Serendipity asked, amazed.“Yes, thanks to Mr. Cane,” the Snow Queen explained. “He was able to get the council to approve changing a mere mortal into a legendary character just for my benefit. Wasn’t that swe
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Once Serendipity re-appeared in the main room, her cape, mittens, and hat on, Corey produced a matching scarf and wound it tightly around her, tucking everything in against the wind he knew they were about to encounter. “Are you ready?” he asked once she was bundled up.“Yes,” Serendipity confirmed through the layers. “How shall we get there? Will we take the sleigh again?”“No, this time, we shall travel by my magic,” Corey replied.“But, if you can magic me there with you, why couldn’t you magic me up those stairs yesterday?” she asked confused.“I could have,” he admitted. “I thought you should have the human experience of meeting Santa in the most regal way possible.”“Oh,” Serendipity muttered, still a bit confused. Then another thought occurred to her. “So, why couldn’t you have just used your magic to bring Pozzletot to me?&rdquo
