Nikolaos The Man Of Dreams ...and The Legend Of Santa Claus

Chapter 4

Nicholas and Pétros, moving away from the beach, found themselves in a completely changed environment, shrouded in a bitter cold in the middle of an unexpected snowstorm.

"Now there is also the snow on the beach, you can't see a damn thing! Master, I don't know how much longer I will last in this cold! But how long until the goal is reached? I don't even understand if we're going around in circles".

"Get it over with this master, or I swear to you that I'm leaving you here! We cannot stop: we would freeze in an moment! But you're right, we must be careful not to lose our way and to understand if we're going in the right direction".

By sticking the crosier in the snow, Nicholas carved a furrow that was not covered by the new snow and remained clearly visible even from a distance.

"And you are only doing this now?" complained Pétros.

"Next time, instead of rambling on about it, you come up with an idea!" the Bishop replied, disappointed.

"Have you given him a name? All famous swords have a name," asked Pétros, pointing to the winner.

"Ah, yes? In what book did you read it precisely? If you know how to read."

"I know how to read my name, and I know how to do a lot of things that would amaze you..." Pétros pointed out in a raucous manner.

"And in any case it is not a sword, but a sacred stick, and the wood with which it is made...it is even more so than you can imagine!

"But you wield it like a weapon."

"Only in necessity. If you want a name we could call him: the exterminator of chatty goblins and cheaters."

"Hey, you offend me! I may be chatty, but I'm not a cheat!"

"Really? And the dice game?"

"Skill! With turricula it's almost impossible to cheat!"

"Exactly, almost..." emphasized the Bishop.

"Apart from the fact that I immediately realized that that creature was infamous and treacherous, we didn't have much choice..."

The Bishop put his hand on his mouth to shut him up, carried him to the shelter behind a rock and whispered.

"This is it... look down there at the bottom."

In the distance, above a promontory, you could see a cart pulled by animals carrying a large metal cage. Inside, one could make out the three children crouching and cold, while outside, standing guard, were two giants who looked like ice. The caravan was mysteriously standing still waiting.

"Here are the children! We have finally caught up with them!" rejoiced Nicholas quietly, so as not to be heard.

"It's about time...obviously now you have a plan to bring those two enormous things down, don't you?"

"Are you referring to the Golems? Nothing that a few well-aimed shots of my pastoral hasn't already destroyed".

"You mean you've faced similar monsters before and come out in one piece?"

"Actually the Golems I shot down were made of clay, while those look like ice, but I don't think there is much difference. What worries me is the hooded coachman. From here I don't understand how dangerous he is."

He squinted his eyes to better focus the image.

"So?" Pétros interrupted him.

"So we're going to make the most of the surprise factor. The Lord will guide our actions!"

In defiance of danger, the Bishop sneaked up on one of the Golems from behind and beat him with fast but strong clubs on his legs until he fell to the ground. The second Golem, as soon as he noticed him, went towards him and tried clumsily, but at the same time dangerously, to hit the man who managed to dodge the slow assaults. With the first of the giants out of combat and the other one who could not dodge the hammering,

Nicholas felt the victory in his hands. Pétros himself had become swaggering and sadistic by kicking the one on the ground.

"Take this! And this one! Come on, at the end of the day maybe I'll use your ears to refresh my wine!"

"Don't waste any useless time and go and free the boys!"

"The children! Sure, I'm going now!"

As he was about to make his way to the wagon, he felt a frozen grip grasping his ankles and making him trip.

"But what on earth..."

Pétros noticed that the fragments of the broken legs had gathered to form small Golems that were poaching him, while in the original one the limbs were growing back with an alarming hurry.

"Ouch, ouch! This is not good...absolutely not..." he stirred while Nicholas, intent as he was in the struggle, was unaware of the evolution of the situation.

"Will you stop babbling and go to the cage?" he took it up again.

"I would gladly do it if these stupid popsicles would let me go, and if...watch your back!" he shouted.

The downed Golem had completely recovered and was heading threateningly towards the Bishop who found himself surrounded.

"All right, I admit that the ice ones are much worse than the clay ones, but that doesn't make them indestructible!

The more the Bishop inflicted damage with fury, the more quickly the creatures regenerated, bringing discomfort to man. Even the little leprechaun found himself facing more and more mini golems that prevented him from approaching the children.

"At this rate they will overwhelm us! We must find a way to destroy them for good!"

A quick reconnaissance of the surrounding area, made an idea flash in Nicholas's mind.

"The coachman! During the battle he never moved, perhaps he is the summoner, we must eliminate him as soon as possible!"

With a desperate gesture Nicholas rushed close to his companion and freed him with a single blow of the annoying beings that were threatening him.

"Go, you are free!"

He found out too much about the move: so much so that he received a frostbite from the colossus on his back that he threw him far away. His strong constitution allowed him, even if with fatigue and wobbling, to get up and fight again. Surely with his determination he would have resisted long before collapsing, or at least he would have done everything to give the goblin time to stop the Summoner.

When the Krampus finally reached the chariot on the promontory, a deafening noise announced the formation of a large black vortex that was opening right in front of them. The hooded figure, until then silent, rejoiced.

"This is it! The portal has finally opened!

The face of the being, now in evidence, revealed itself familiar to Pétros, who felt the blood freeze.

"Pelznickel!"

When he invoked its name, the demon turned holding up two clay tablets engraved with arcane symbols.

"So you have recognized me, my little servant..."

The leprechaun looked at him with hatred and repugnance.

"How could I forget who made me what I am now?"

"You were a foolish drunkard and cheat. I gave you the opportunity to be something more, but I see that you have failed miserably... Listen to me, I will be magnanimous and I will give you one more chance: as you see I am currently busy eliminating that puppet you brought along and I can't move, but you can. Take the souls of those three children and throw them into the black vortex so as to send them directly to Hell and do what pleases my Lord. If you do that, I will forget your ineptitude and promote you to general! You will be the servant commander of my servants!"

On the face of Pétros appeared a seduced smile of those who savour power.

"And will I have food and wine in abundance?"

"Wine and food to make your belly explode!"

"And will my orders be uncontested?"

"You will have to obey only me, your supreme master!"

"It's a truly captivating offer..."

He approached the demon with nonchalance, more and more thoughtful.

"Where are the keys to the cage?" asked the goblin.

The being gave him a satisfied smile.

"I knew I wasn't wrong about you! They are attached to my belt, take them quickly!" he exhorted him.

Nicholas, still engaged in the struggle, was at the end of his strength. Even though he hadn't heard, he realized that something was wrong and that the imp was about to make an irreparable gesture, and he cried out with all his energy.

"Pétros! What are you doing? Save those poor boys!"

The Krampus, after having grabbed the keys from the demon's waist, opened the door of the cage, took the terrified boys and led them to the portal among Pelznickel's glances of satisfaction.

"Well done...well done, my slave..."

The Bishop, distraught with pain, watched the scene helplessly.

"No, for God's sake, don't do it!" he implored.

Pétros, having arrived in front of the abyss, gave a strong push to the boys, but not toward the black hole, but far away from it, causing them to end up in the deep, soft snow.

"Quickly! Run!" he cried out to him when he saw them coming back unharmed.

The demon, having realized what had happened, screamed angrily.

"What have you done, you fool!"

To complete the work, the goblin took the two tablets out of the demon's hands and threw them into the portal, which sucked them dry. In a few moments the two Golems shattered into a thousand pieces, falling inert on themselves and finally giving the man the chance to catch his breath.

The boys, recognizing the face of their Bishop, rushed to him in search of help. As soon as he saw them, he hugged them tightly and wrapped them with his cloak to protect them.

Pelznickel, blinded by fury, took on the demonic form of an enormous cuttlefish and with his tentacles he firmly grabbed Pétros, who had tricked him.

"Damn you traitor! You have condemned yourself to the worst of ends, you will suffer the torments of Hell for all eternity!"

"I will be no longer a slave to anyone, better dead than a servant!"

The tentacles lifted him up into the air with the intention of throwing him into the black hole.

Nicholas decided first of all to bring the boys to safety, he held them tight and closed his eyes and disappeared with them.

When he opened them again, he found himself in his bed with the three boys who, although stunned, were safe and finally conscious.

The parents burst into tears of joy as they saw their healthy children again and began to bless incessantly the Bishop who had brought them back among them.

"Feed the children, I still have a score to settle."

Lying down again, he focused, his eyes revolved once again and his mind was once again in the world of dreams. When he appeared there he was right in front of the demon while he was still holding Pétros in his coils. Without thinking twice, he stabbed the monster's stomach, pushing the crosier as deeply as possible. The demon cried out in excruciating pain, releasing his grip. Pétros thus found himself plunging into the void in the direction of the infernal abyss, heading towards a terrible destiny. But just when he saw himself doomed, he felt himself grasped and dragged away from danger: Nicholas had managed to catch him literally on the fly and get him to safety. The rescue action, however, gave the wounded demon time to escape.

The two of them rested in the snow and looked at each other in silence for a few moments.

"Thank you for coming back to save me...boss."

"Well, boss, it's already better, and in any case I would never have abandoned a friend..."

They laughed and helped each other get back on their feet.

"So, when are you thinking of finally getting us out of here?"

Nicholas turned thoughtfully towards the beasts.

"In a moment...I was thinking about these splendid animals...they look like fallow deer, but they have something different...they are decidedly larger, and the colour of their coat is different: thicker and without spots, apart from the strange lightning-shaped mark on their foreheads...they give me the idea that they don't belong to this world, or at least not entirely...they too seem to have been kidnapped and brought here against their will.

"You're right, some of them are undoubtedly females, but they still have horns! And now that you make me think about it, the beings encountered so far all had something diabolical and in any case anomalous about them, while they seem to be tame".

Observing carefully, they noticed that a big chain was sprouting from the snow that held them prisoner.

"This confirms our hypothesis..." Pétros said, lifting it up.

"You know what I'm saying to you? That they deserve their freedom too!" Nicholas said.

In a short time they managed to break the chains by releasing them.

"I don't know where you are going, my friends, but surely any place will be better than this..." Nicholas said goodbye to her.

The beasts, almost as if they understood the words, gave a puff of response and, after giving them a glance of deep recognition, took to gallop and magically flew!

The sight of the animals running free and happy in the air left the two of them amazed.

"Unbelievable! Who knows to which race they belonged".

"I don't know, but from the thick fur I'd say that they were Northern animals. Flying deer...that's what I really missed!"

When they were found in the real world, Pétros perceived a strange sensation of dizziness, and, touching his head, he realized that something had changed.

"But...but...but...my horns! I no longer have horns?"

Nicholas watched him attentively, muttering his thoughts.

"In principle you're right, but in reality you're left with a couple of reddish bumps that aren't very nice to look at...I hope they disappear...in the meantime I suggest you use a nice headgear.

The peasants, still celebrating the happy success of the enterprise, wanted to pay back in some way, offering their saviors every kind of food good: cold cuts, cheese, wheat and a green pointed hat, which in the heat had been unintentionally stacked among the gifts. The Bishop, when he saw it, hurried to anticipate the elf.

"Here is a beautiful hat for you! You cannot refuse: you would offend these good people".

Pétros sighed, put it on and humbly thanked him while he was carrying the gifts and walking with the Bishop.

"It doesn't look bad for you...you could use it as a work uniform."

"Work uniform?" asked the astonished little man.

"Of course, you have to make a living, and my diocese needs a handyman. Do you have any experience?"

"Before that damned Pelznickel enlisted me in his ranks, I was one of the best carpenters in my city, then because of gambling debts I had to do things, let's say...undignified..."

"The past is the past, let's leave it behind us, every man has the right to a second chance and you have earned it. In two days it will be Christmas, I am entrusting you with an assignment: for that date you have to build three wooden rocking horses, I want to give them to those poor boys to try to partially erase their painful memories; don't worry about the tools and the material, I will give them to you when we get home...".

Pétros with a smile repeated that word to himself, savouring it as sweetly as he had not done in a long time.

"Home..."

Part II

The cursed oil jar

Chapter 5

It is when darkness falls that the dark forces love to act, protected from the shadows, to hide their wickedness.

Some monstrous creatures had positioned themselves, according to orders, in the neuralgic points, while others, grinning quietly, sprinkled oil on the fields following in detail the great plan.

None of the inhabitants could imagine what catastrophe would fall upon them, something that would mark them forever...

When a red light suddenly shone in the sky, many were fascinated by the unusual phenomenon, which generated hilarity. In reality it was the signal to unleash Hell. The red abandoned the sky to colour the fields, the fires spread so quickly that any attempt to stem them was useless, the destruction was total and every crop was reduced to ashes and smoke, condemning the population to starvation.

Among the despair of many, who watched the disaster in astonishment, there was a voice that brought thoughts of hope.

"We ask the Bishop for help!

"Yes! That holy man is the only one who can help us!"

"Hurry, let's go!"

So it was that a delegation left for the diocese, hoping that their bishop would not abandon them.

When the loud sound of the clapper finally succeeded in waking up Pétros, some time had passed. With a staggering gait, the little man walked towards the doorway mumbling words almost at random between yawning and yawning.

"I'm coming...I'm coming...but who is disturbing at this time of night? Thank heaven that I open the door, Nicholas would first have beaten you and then, perhaps, he would have asked what you want..."

When he opened the door he was confronted by about twenty men whose faces, blackened by smoke, were illuminated by the light of flashlights.

"Uh...I guess it's not a burnt roast, is it? Nicholas! Nicholas! I think there's a problem!"

The large delegation had gathered in a semicircle in the presbytery around the bishop reflecting, while the little helper walked nervously here and there, causing more than anything else irritation.

"The matter is serious, Excellency..." began one of the group.

"Not a single grain of wheat has been saved, and we don't know how to feed our children..." continued another one.

Pétros rejoiced, happy to have found a solution.

"Found it! We ask the Emperor to provide us with some of his, they have so much of it at the capital that he won't mind giving us a few bags of it!"

Nicholas shattered his dreams like ceramic tiles thrown to the ground.

"They have so much of it precisely because they don't give anybody any, not even an ounce, and then a few bags would never be enough for everyone? It would take at least half a load.

Without losing heart, Pétros brought up another one of his ideas.

"Let's assault a passing ship and borrow the cargo!"

Observing the grim look that the Bishop gave him, the little man became even smaller and tried to make up for it in his own way.

"...obviously without hurting anyone...and then returning the stolen goods...not even that way, is that it?"

"I say: are you stupid, or what? It's called piracy! And apart from the fact that it is immoral and against the laws of God to take possession of the things of others by force, didn't you think that you would then have the entire imperial fleet hunting you down as long as you live? Leaving aside the repercussions for the city! Think before you shoot such idiocies!"

The helper resented the reproach.

"I only wanted to be of help!"

"Well, so you're not!"

"Then say your idea, because you never like other people's ideas! I really want to know how you hope to convince a ship loaded with grain to call at our ports and give us all the goods, in defiance of the imperial laws!" the little man challenged him.

The priest's gaze changed its expression: at first it was absent and vacuous, as if it were dull, then, as if emerging from a long apnoea, it returned to normal and even gave those present a slight smile.

"Finally you said something useful!" exclaimed Nicholas.

"You're joking, aren't you?" replied Pétros, believing himself mocked.

"I never joke when I have visions."

"Visions? What visions?"

Nicholas lied on the ground among curious expressions and unexpressed questions.

"I'll show you, stand next to me and stare at the ceiling. Would you, please, give me your coats as pillows?"

The two of them found themselves with their faces facing upwards. Pétros was embarrassed, but he had witnessed in person the wonders of mankind and was convinced that this occasion would be like the other, then he remembered the last time he had received a handful and his tranquillity suddenly disappeared.

"Boss, can you assure me that I won't receive another punch in the head?"

"The other time we were in a hurry and I didn't know if you would cooperate or not, this time there will be no need, just follow my instructions. Start by relaxing."

The helper took a deep breath of relief and tried not to disappoint the expectations of his principal.

"See that blue dot at the top? Fix it carefully, then slowly open and close your eyes five times. Good. Now keep them closed and think of the sound of the wind blowing through the sails of a ship, along with the lapping of the waves crashing against the hull..."

Pétros did everything he was told, but did not notice any change, at least until, sure of the failure of the experiment, he decided to open his eyes again.

"But where..." he wondered in dismay without finishing the sentence.

What his eyes saw was undoubtedly the wooden pier of a boat and the slight rocking under his feet confirmed it.

"We are aboard the Ule, a muriophoroi4 granary ship docked in the port of Alexandria. They have just finished filling the hold and are ready to set sail for Constantinople, where they will unload the cargo that will end up in the Emperor's granaries," explained Nicholas.

The little guy looked around impressed.

"All right, I don't even want to try to understand how you know these things, but I have to ask you one question: how did we get here?"

"We are not really in this place, but I only projected our minds to it. To be precise, this place is what the captain of the ship sees in his memories while he sleeps".

"Did we end up inside the captain's dream?" asked Pétros.

"In a certain sense...even if this is the initial phase, in which the real world is prepared as a base, to be then remixed with the fantasy of the various memories".

Nicholas tried to capture every single detail in search of something useful, until he spotted it.

"Look at that red glow down there, you can bet it will turn out to be interesting!"

The glow pulsed uninterruptedly and like a flashlight guided their steps towards the target, but when they reached the halfway point, the surrounding landscape began to oscillate forcing them to stop so as not to fall, while the source of light, slowly sinking, was sucked by the axes of the ship.

"And now? What kind of joke is this?" claimed Pétros.

"The captain has entered into the deepest phase of his sleep, and his memories are merging with his dreams...it will now be more difficult to discover the origin of that light.

An imperious wind began to blow against him, becoming increasingly overbearing.

" Boss, is it really so fundamental to know?"

"That's one of the captain's unconscious memories, if he marked it that way it means it's certainly important."

Despite the proximity, the deafening noise of the wind forced the two of them to scream.

"But important for what?" Pétros wanted to know.

"To save the ship from shipwreck," replied Nicholas with ease.

"Shipwreck? Will you stop telling me things as if they were the stew of a stew?" the little guy complained.

"I was referring to the shipwreck which I saw in my vision and which had nothing natural, but seemed to be a malignant work!"

The ship was now moving more visibly, and the water splashes flooded it with every rocking, worrying Pétros.

"So this is the storm that is going to wreck the ship?"

"No, it's only the captain's fears that are agitating his sleep, but which prevent us from discovering the truth." reassured the Bishop.

"So what are we going to do? Do we wait for him to take a chamomile and then try again?"

"We must identify the captain in this place, in his human likeness, and calm him down. Only then can we talk to him and ask him for information before it is too late!"

"I don't know about you, but I don't see a damn thing!" complained Pétros.

"You're right...let's try to create an entrance which will give us the right visibility..."

The Bishop began to wave his stick, describing a semicircle in the air which formed an invisible shield, unassailable by water, which allowed him to see despite the storm.

"While you're at it, couldn't you also create a canopy? I'm soaking wet!"

"The rain is not real, be satisfied and look around you!"

"Yes, of course...as unreal as the golems were, I still feel like my bones are broken!"

"It's only the unconditional reflexes of your mind, and..."

"Found!"

This time it was the goblin who interrupted the Bishop.

"Over there, I glimpsed the figure of a man!"

With a great deal of effort they tried to approach the aft cabin, on which was the captain intent on tinkering with the clavus5.