Kris Kringle

“Renier declared you dead,” Eva explained, stepping back from her embrace to look at Kris’ face, “You vanished into the woods and never came back. Several guards said they were certain one of the crocodiles had injured your leg. I thought… we all thought…”

“I would never return,” Kris completed.

Eva nodded sadly. “I’ve missed you,” she said softly, “And I don’t even know you!” She chuckled as she wiped the tears from her cheek.

Kris looked her in the eye and smiled. “I’ve missed you,” he said, “And I have so much to tell you.”

He related to her everything that transpired from the time he escaped from the castle—the elves and their village, King Wenceslas and his injuries, the daily talks and unexpected coronation.

“He named you king?” Eva asked in disbelief. Kris nodded, giving her a moment to think about all that he had told her.

“I…I don’t know what to say…,” she admitted, her eyes reflecting the overwhelm of emotions she was feeling.

“Believe me, I don’t know what to say either. And I certainly don’t know what to do,” Kris confided, “But you and I both know that Renier must be stopped. He hasn’t taken the throne yet, has he?”

Eva shook her head. “Not officially, though he considers himself the king already by how he acts and orders others,” she explained, “The coronation ceremony is scheduled to take place the day after tomorrow. I know it has pained him to wait this long already, but since Father’s body never turned up, he knew he could not rush into a coronation without arousing suspicion. He is purposely scheduling it after the funeral so as to give the appearance that he is honoring the late king.”

She grabbed Kris’ hand. “But we don’t have to worry about that now,” she said with a smile, “You are the king!”

The smile on Eva’s face was greeted with a frown on Kris’. “Our troubles are far from over, Eva,” he reminded her, “Renier will not go down without a fight, and if he is indeed the beast you claim him to be, then there is no telling what a man who is willing to murder his own father would do to keep his power. I fear these next two days could bring about a great war in Silverbell if we are not careful.”

“What’s your plan then?” Eva asked earnestly, “Jump down the chimney?”

Kris laughed as he grabbed Eva’s lantern. “I’ll show you the plan,” he said, “But you first must show me your great-great grandfather.”

Eva gave him a bewildered look. “Excuse me?” she replied with a chuckle.

“Grinkers told me where to find Percy’s Parchment,” Kris added.

“Grinkers, the head elf?” Eva verified, recalling the stories Kris had told her earlier.

“Yes, the same. His father was Percy, as in Percy’s Parchment,” Kris continued excitedly, “He explained to me what was meant by the phrase you overheard your brother say about the parchment dying with the king. The king is your great-great grandfather. Percy’s Parchment was buried with him to prevent others from abusing its power.”

“What power?” Eva asked with interest.

Kris smiled. “Point to the casket, and I’ll show you.”

Eva led him to a beautifully decorated casket near the entrance of the tomb. It was mostly made of silver, with a large red star engraved on the top cover piece and a forest of trees engraved along the sides. Kris handed Eva the lantern and removed the top piece from the casket, doing so carefully to show both respect to the dead and to prevent any loud noises.

Eva shone the light over the open casket. The light revealed a skeleton clothed in royal robes with a crown still hanging on the head. An unpleasant, musky odor reached their nostrils, and Eva had to step back for a moment, the whole experience being too much for her senses. Kris looked quickly, but carefully, around what was left of the deceased king. He checked the pockets of his robes and even gently raised the skeleton to look at the bottom of the casket. There was no sign of the parchment.

Kris stared at the open casket, not hiding the disappointment he felt.

“It’s not here,” he stated dejectedly, “I worry that Lord Renier has alrea—.”

He stopped, for his eye caught something it had missed before. The handles which protruded from the sides (which the casket bearers would use to carry the deceased) all matched the silver that made-up the exterior of the casket. All, that is, except for the handle at the foot of the casket, the handle upon which Kris’ eyes now rested. It was made of gold, and on either end of the handle were silver knobs, each with a evergreen tree painted upon its face.

“Felix had told me that the elves see evergreen trees as the ultimate symbol of life,” Kris explained to Eva as he examined more closely the knobs of the handle, “To them, these trees embody endurance, strength, and immortality.”

He grabbed hold of the knob nearest him and began to turn it. He continued turning it until the knob removed itself from the threading within the handle. Kris held the lantern up against the opening of the handle and smiled widely. He reached his fingers inside the hollow cylinder and removed a piece of thick parchment that had been rolled up tightly inside. The parchment itself did not look as old as it was, and it seemed to Kris to be exuding a faint glow in the darkness.

“That’s it?” Eva asked excitedly.

“Let’s see,” he said with a boyish grin. However, the grin disappeared as he realized neither of them possessed pen or ink. “It’s supposed to answer the questions you write upon it…”

“You test it tonight then,” Eva told him, “I must be returning to the castle anyways. Will I see you tomorrow?”

“You will see Saint Nicholas tomorrow,” he reminded her.

Eva helped Kris return the cover to the casket. They made their way to the stone steps, but paused before ascending them. A soft drizzle of rain had begun, making the cold night air even chillier. The two stood at the tomb’s opening, under the cover of the dirt ceiling above them.

“You’ll be okay by yourself?” Kris asked with concern.

“Oh yes,” Eva assured him, “I have made the walk many times before, even in the rain. Besides, it would probably not be appropriate for a priest to be seen walking home a princess late at night.”

Kris smiled. He looked up and out at the rain, and as he did so he saw a clustering of mistletoe hanging over the edge of the tomb’s opening, growing out of the soil above them.

“You know,” he said, gesturing for Eva to look up, “It’s a tradition to share a kiss when standing under mistletoe.”

Eva laughed. “Oh really?” she asked playfully, “I don’t recall ever hearing about that tradition.”

She leaned in, placed her hand upon his cheek, and kissed him.

“It might be a tradition I made up just now,” Kris confessed with a smile, the two staring deeply into each other’s eyes.

“I’m glad you did,” Eva said, and the two shared one more long kiss before she replaced the hood on her head.

“Good night, Your Majesty,” Kris said softly.

“Good night, Your Highness,” Eva replied with a smile.

She ran out into the rain toward the castle, and after she was out of sight, Kris made his way back inside the church and snuck upstairs to his room. The rain was starting to come down a little harder, and Kris worried that Eva might be stuck in the weather. As he sat upon his bed, he remembered the piece of magical parchment in his pocket. He removed it and placed it on the desk. Taking the feather pen out of the ink bottle that was sitting on the desk, he wrote down a simple question to test the parchment’s ability.

“Where is Kris Kringle?” he wrote on the parchment. Beneath his question, in perfect handwriting, appeared the answer: “The upper room of Silverbell’s church.”

Kris gasped. He had never seen such magic before, and he was almost frightened by it. He scratched out the question, and as he did so, both the question and answer vanished from the parchment.

“Is Princess Eva safely back at the castle?” he wrote down quickly, his concern for her well-being still on his mind. The answer appeared: “Yes.”

Kris smiled and began preparing himself for bed, content that the parchment worked just as Grinkers had claimed it would. As badly as Kris wanted to write down a series of questions, he promised himself not to get carried away. The purpose of getting Percy’s Parchment, after all, was to keep it out of the hands of Prince Renier. If Kris was not careful, he too could become corrupted by its power. He tucked the parchment into the pocket of his robe and kept it close to his bed.

He laid there for nearly an hour, unable to sleep. All he could think about was his evening with Eva, the kiss they had shared, and the great adventure and dangers that yet awaited them both. Never in all his life would he have dreamed of falling in love with a princess. He lay there wondering if she too was lying awake thinking of him. He looked over at the parchment that was barely sticking out of the pocket, softly glowing in the darkness. Kris could not resist. He rose from his bed, grabbed the pen and parchment and wrote down one more question. He hesitated at first to write it down, for the question was bold, even premature, and he was scared of what the answer would be. But he had to know.

“Will Kris Kringle marry Princess Eva?”

He waited breathlessly for the answer to appear. When it did, his heart sank to his stomach. The magical feelings of that evening seemed to vanish in an instant.

One word shown on the parchment in response to his query.

“No.”