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Correspondence Part 1
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2021-02-19 12:43:11When 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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Serendipity had every intention of returning to her cottage and sending another letter to Mr. Cane as quickly as possible. However, once Maevis and Ms. Crotlybloom decided to take on the project of scrubbing years of filth and grime from her--her skin, her hair, her fingernails, between her toes, everywhere--her return had been quite delayed. It had taken both of the older women with brushes, combs, and eventually scissors, to work her hair into what could potentially be called “suitable” again. Her flesh was red and sore, not only from the warm water (which had been switched out three times) but also from the intense scrubbing.Once the torturous bath had been completed, she needed a few moments to collect herself before pulling her abused body out of the tub. Even the promise that Maevis would help her dress in a gown she had laid aside (it had been Serendipity’s mother’s at one time) and a new pair of boots, did not result in a hasty exit from the c
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While Serendipity understood what Maevis was trying to tell her, she shook her head. Damp, white ringlets flipped water out of the tub as she did so, further wetting the wooden floor. How many times had she tried to explain herself to Maevis before? More than she could count. “I don’t have a choice, Maevis. It must be done.”“You do have a choice, love,” Maevis corrected her, placing her calloused hand on Serendipity’s arm just above her boney elbow where it rested on the side of the tub and giving it a squeeze.“You have a choice every day. Do you keep trying to do the impossible or give up and sell the lot of the parts and maybe the house, too? You could take the money and start all over again, someplace far away, if you truly wanted to.”“It’s not that simple,” Serendipity replied, resting her forehead on her arm near Maevis’s chilly hand and drawing in a deep breath. “I promised my f
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Mr. Waddlebug had found a comfy chair in the corner of the room near the fireplace and was dozing, the honking sound of his snoring what one might expect from an old man with a bulbous nose, as Corey sat idly at the desk, absently twirling the feather of a quill in his fingers, waiting on a response from Ms. Fizzlestitch and pondering his own existence.It wasn’t a pleasant experience.He tended to push away the ideas that often popped into his head--why did he work so hard? What was he trying to prove? What did it matter if one new recruit didn’t show up? All of those questions often dwelling just below the surface until one finds himself in a quiet room, all alone save a snoring elf in the corner, and then it is difficult to push the contemplations aside.But Corey was very talented when it came to the ability to dodge the deeper questions, and he refused now to entertain any of the truly important thoughts that dare rise to the surface of his cons
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“Well, hello there, Corey,” a jolly voice cried out, causing Corey to look up and meet two sparkling blue eyes.“How are you this fine day, my boy?”“Sir, it’s nice to see you,” Corey replied, offering his hand, unsure as to whether or not St. Nicholas had heard his mutterings. “I’m doing well, thank you. And yourself?”“Couldn’t be better,” he chuckled as he released Corey’s hand, thin and small in comparison to his own. “I’m very excited to hear that you were able to procure a replacement for the recently deceased Mrs. Meriwether. She served me well for over two hundred years, God rest her sweet soul.”“Yes, sir, we were all very sad to see her go,” Corey replied, a distraught look plastered on his face, his voice ringing with lamentation.St. Nicholas shook his head slowly from side to side, his great white beard rippling as he did so.
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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
