Wednesday, December 18, 2024

Heroes Rising Fiction: Santa's Little Helper Part 7

 The icy winds turned bitter, cutting around the remnants of the downtown. Dragonborn clutched his arms around himself, each stiff breeze like a splash of frigid water. This parking lot was dark, only a few flashlights bobbed about as the people prepared a pile of wood that was much taller than he expected.

“Where’s the fire?” He muttered.

“I’m cold.” The little girl said, hugging herself.

Dragonborn stopped a man walking by. “When will the fire be lit?”

“As soon as we find a way to light it. We’re having some trouble getting it to burn.”

Dragonborn looked around. In the dim light, he could see more people approaching, hoping for some warmth in this frosty night. Against his leg, a little child shivered so hard he could feel her trembling.

“I guess I can do something.” He said and then looked down at the child, “Wait here, I’ll be right back.” He didn’t want her to see what he was going to do. It might frighten her.

She stood there as he walked over to the pile of wood. A man fought with a soggy fire-starter log that wouldn’t ignite. “Can I help?” Dragonborn asked.

The man let out an annoyed grunt. “We ran out of the dry starters yesterday. I wasn’t expecting an outdoor crowd tonight. This stupid thing won’t light.”

“Let me give it a try. This is kinda my specialty.”

The man held out the lighter to him. “Have fun. I’ll see if I can find some lighter fluid.” He left.

Dragonborn snorted a laugh at the lighter and tossed it aside. He leaned in and took in a deep breath. As he released it, a flame came from his mouth that burrowed deep into the pile of wood. He kept breathing this for a moment and a fire started in the pile's heart. It spread quickly. As it spread, he realized this wasn’t just logs and twigs; it was oddly shaped bits of wood.

Then came a hard, terrified screech and wailing.


Santa walked toward the second lot when the parents of the child met him.

“Sam?” the father called out.

“I believe your daughter when that way with my helper. They are at the bonfire.”

“Oh, thanks, we…” There came a terrible scream.

“Sam!” The mother rushed away followed closely by the father.

Santa hurried after them, a perpetual look of worry on his face.


Dragonborn rushed around the burning fire and found the little girl curled up on the ground, wailing in great cries. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought she was hurt, but she seemed fine.

“Kid, kid! What’s the matter?” He came to her and put a hand on her back.

She tried to say something, but the crying and blubbering made her words incomprehensible.

“Come on, are you hurt? Did you get burned? DOCTOR!” He looked around for help. Other people were approaching, just as curious.

Her parents rushed in and came quickly to her side.

“Sam! What’s wrong? What happened to her?” The mother asked.

Dragonborn said, “I don’t know. We started the fire, and she went ballistic.”

“Oh, my god…. Honey, take her away. Get her away from here now.” The father’s eyes were glued to the fire.

The mother worked to get her daughter off the ground, which proved to be difficult.

Dragonborn asked. “What’s wrong? For Pete’s sake, why is she losing it?”

The girl suddenly screamed, “MY HOUSE! MY HOUSE!”

The mother finally scooped up the girl into her arms and ran hard.

Dragonborn had a dark feeling rush over him as he looked back at the fire. The father stood there, pale and in a fog, there was a glint of a tear on his cheek. In the pile of burning wood, Dragonborn realized it wasn’t random timber or logs. They were burning remnants of the destroyed homes from the hurricane. There were banisters and wooden siding with markings visible through the flames. Wall paper, with flowers on it, marks scratched into frames for doors. Family history turning to ash. However practical it was to burn it, it was their homes and businesses being set on fire to warm them.

Santa appeared at his side, looking deep into the blaze. “I tried to stop you. I didn’t know it would be this bad.”

Dragonborn felt choked up. He could still hear that horrified scream the moment the fire lit. “Why would they do this?”

“In dark times, people do what they have to.”

Turning on Santa, Dragonborn yelled, “Why didn’t you warn me? That girl shouldn’t have seen this?”

Santa said, “Funny, that almost sounded like you cared about someone other than yourself.”

Dragonborn had flames in his mouth, his rage bristled out of every pore. “I don’t need lectures on your damn morality and stupid seasonal crap. I don’t need to be force-fed this heavy-handed lesson on the pitiful lives of the less fortunate. I don’t need…”

“What do you need?” Santa asked.

“I… I need… to not feel like this. I was happy with my life yesterday. I was content and ready to leave this stupid program. Now, I feel like crap. I don’t need this. I don’t need you.” He stormed away.

Santa followed him. “And just where do you think you’re going?”

Without looking back, Dragonborn said, “I will find my way. I can leave this program and even the mighty Nova can’t stop me. My parents are loaded. We’ll hire the best lawyers and make BADGE pay for holding me against my will and putting me through this.”

Santa grabbed Dragonborn by the shoulder and turned him around. His face was as fierce and focused as Dragonborns. “Fine. Run back to your life of luxury, run away from this world. Do you think that’s all that matters? Do you think this world is just for your pleasure? This exercise isn’t about making Nova or BADGE happy, and it certainly isn’t about satisfying me. It is about you. All we wanted was what was best for you.”

Dragonborn threw Santa’s hand off of him. “If that was true, then you would let me go home.”

“You can’t run away.”

“Yes, I can. I can hire a private jet and finally get back to my life how I want it.”

“I don’t mean running away from me or this place. I mean, running away from what is in you.”

Dragonborn yelled, “What? What the hell is in me?”

Santa softly said, “For the briefest of moment you finally felt something for someone else. You cared deeply, passionately about the pain in another. For a moment in time, your ego took a backseat to compassion. You want to know something. No arrogant feeling is as profound and moving as compassion for another. You can’t run away from that, no matter how many private jets you fly on.”

Dragonborn had tears in his eyes. He spent a moment with rattling breath and trembling hands. “Fine! Yes, I did. I heard that kid crying and saw her home in that fire...which I started… and I hurt. I haven’t ever hurt like this. God! Why does it feel like this? Why!”

Santa let out a little smile. “Because you finally realize that other people’s feelings do matter. Imagine, my boy, how wonderful it can feel when you let yourself feel other people’s joy with the same power? Selflessness can be horribly painful, but also wonderfully fulfilling. Don’t run from it, embrace it.”

Dragonborn wiped his eyes and looked at his illusionary, dirty hands. “This is too much. I can’t handle this. I want my life back. It might be shallow, but I understand it. This… this is too much for me.”

Santa’s smile faded with a sorrowful sigh. “Then I will graduate you from this program. I’ll tell Nova that you are clear to leave. You don’t even have to go back to BADGE.”

“Really? Why?”

Santa said, “Because I failed. I gave it my best, but you simply don’t have it in you to truly feel compassion for the less fortunate.”

“Find some other person to be a saint. I just want my mansion, money, and hot babes.”

Santa looked at a BADGE comm unit under the sleeve of his coat. “I’ll report that I find no risk of you becoming a villain, but that you’re not fit to finish the program. BADGE can’t send a shuttle right away. This time of year is awfully busy for all of us. The shuttle will be here to pick you up tomorrow afternoon.”

“What do I do tonight?”

Santa looked around. “They have a small tent set up for you. You can get some dinner and sleep. I won’t ask you to do anything else. Your assignment with me is over.”

“Are you staying the night?”

“Goodness no. This close to Christmas, I have a million things to do. I won’t see you again. Once you head back home, you won’t be part of BADGE, and only BADGE heroes may know exactly who I am. I hope you have a happy, fulfilling life, Micheal Messenger.” He held out his hand.

Dragonborn took hold in a firm grip. “Thanks for trying.”

“Here’s your phone.” Santa pulled Dragonborn’s phone out of the air and handed it to him.

“I thought I left this in the sleigh.”

“You did. Now, I must be going.”

Before Santa walked away, Dragonborn stopped him. “Hey, uh, are you going to do something nice for that girl for Christmas? I mean, she’s upset and…”

Santa smiled. “I will make sure she has a happy holiday. I’m glad a little of the lesson stuck.”

“Sure, yeah, uh, bye.”

Santa left, as he walked away, he turned invisible.

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