Two children, one human, one hellkin, were awake in their cold box-shelter when Greatfather Langeven arrived. They asked, please, to be taken in by him. "Let us help deliver gifts and help us find somewhere warm with love?" That is all they wish. -- Anon Guest
Traffic in cities flows like a river. All rivers have eddies and places were flotsam washes up. Some form something like a tosheroon. Others... hardly have a form at all. Dawn found Scrap on a midden when he was searching for anything edible, and couldn't bear to let her die. They eked out an existence on the thin charity of the city. Always moving. Always hoping they'd get stolen by Adventurers together.
Always kicked out of anywhere they hoped to settle.
Dawn was eight and Scrap was four when Scrap learned about Greatfather Langeven. The little girl was a whirlwind of enthusiasm in her newfound faith. Babbling up a storm about the sled of presents, the midnight ride, the unicorns, and the cup of joy given to those awake at midnight. Scrap even sang her little heart out, trying to hit the notes in the carols and missing every one.
Dawn helped her write the letter, and snuck it into the pile at the temple of all gods. It was the offerings that broke his heart.
A stale honey cake with hairs on it. A half-eaten and mouldy apple. A cracked cup of water because they could never get milk. And a note, We cud not get NEtign betR. Sori. They huddled together for warmth under their stolen rags, in the most structurally sound corner of the condemned being that was their home for the winter.
"You're a good little girl," Dawn told her. "Greatfather Langeven has to come with gifts for you."
"Not you?"
"He only sees the good in the world," Dawn stared out at the falling snow. Up at the hole in the roof. "I'm a reminder of the evil people did to get this far." Dawn recited the story as he knew it. Once upon a time, Elves ruled the whole world, and kept Humans like pets at best, and cattle at worst. Humans didn't like that and did everything they could to be seen as people. Including making twisted deals with demons set on making the world even worse.
"And because of all that, Hellkin like me are part of the world," said Dawn. "Hated just because of how we were born."
Scrap ran her fingers over her strawberry birthmarks. They made her face look like a skull. "That's not fair. People hate me 'cause of my deathmark, but... I'm not evil. And you're not evil either."
"I know that and you know that, but telling the whole rest of the world would take forever and a day, and all the money in all the Dragon's hoards." He kissed Scrap's brow. "It's out of our reach, my lovely."
The city clocks struck midnight. Time slowed to a pace between seconds.
...tingtingTingTING...
Dawn clutched at Scrap. Half afraid that the Childhood God would take her away. The sled was enormous and the unicorns were impossibly beautiful. Greatfather Langeven was twice as wide as an adult. He, the sled, and the enormous sack of presents should have fallen through the rotting floorboards, but his big boots walked on them without a single creak. His crown of holly, ivy, and mistletoe gleamed in his white curls. Shinier than any king's crown.
Dawn started to cry.
"How are you doing that, little lass?" said Greatfather Langeven.
"I'm just sitting in Broda's lap," Scrap looked back to Dawn, then to the spirit of generosity and joy. "You can't see him, but he is good, I promise. We don't have a father or a mother... we're our only other. The both of us, we need to work for our keep but nobody wants to take us in." Scrap held tight to Dawn. "Will you take us in, sir? We'll work hard and help however we can."
"Let's see you, then," The gigantic deity had a pouch at his hip. A pinch from that filled the air with sparkles, that soon covered Dawn in glittering stars. "My goodness. You have horns, young lad."
"Yessir," said Dawn. "Folks say I look like a demon." It was better than telling the whole story that he'd told Scrap.
"I see a good boy who is too kind to leave a child alone in the cold," said Greatfather Langeven. "Sit up on my sled, the both of you. You may hand me presents tonight, and by the dawn, you shall have a better place to belong." He handed them each a cup of joy.
It was a whirlwind flight, but the winter wind did not touch them, and the snow didn't land on them. Though Dawn sparkled brighter than a Noble at Sparknight, nobody saw him. Nobody saw Scrap. They were both used to people ignoring them on purpose, but this was... as if they were really invisible.
They worked for him as promised, handing out gifts for each place the sled stopped. The cup of joy kept them warm and happy all through the night, which was longer than even a winter night should have been. Of course it was. Greatfather Langeven visited every good child in the world. And when it was all done, the sled stopped at a very nice house with a very nice garden.
"This is your new home," said the childhood god. "Go knock on the door and make the same offer you made me. All will be well."
Dawn didn't need Greatfather Langeven's glitter for the older maid to see him. Nor to make much of their offer to be allowed in for a big meal, a hot bath, and a comfortable place for them to sleep. They got a home and a mother for Midwinterfeast, and she got a family.
The best present of all, as the wise were wont to say, is a future.
[Photo by Hugo Kruip on Unsplash]
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