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Fogado ran into Vander’s office, beads of sweat dotting his face.
The elder Steward’s back was turned, pulling a clearly-old book into a pile on his opposing arm. He turned to face the rushing Prince before him.
“Well, good evening, your Highness!” Vander said with a smile, putting the stack of books on his disheveled desk, “whatever is the matter?”
“Vander, I am so, so sorry,” Fogado apologized, placing his hands on his hips, “I completely forgot about Secret Santa…”
Vander’s brow raised. “Oh– I must admit, I truly did not expect the remaining player to be you. But- no matter! Out of pure curiosity, how did it evade your mind?”
Fogado paused for a moment, unsure of how to tell Vander that– as of late– his newfound crush on Alcryst was the sole thing on his mind. Coincidentally, if not for his Brodian dreamboat reminding him, he likely would have forgotten about it altogether. He shook his head.
“Well, I– uh, been busy… training. See, Prince Alcryst is a formidable opponent and matches my skill in archery, so I’ve been working hard on showing him up.”
Vander pursed his lips and nodded. “I did not know that, Prince Fogado. Any time I see the two of you together, it’s mostly the extracurricular aspects to living here you’re both partaking in.”
Fogado took a short breath and allowed his personality to take over. “Butterin’ the guy up makes him easier to beat.”
Vander laughed and pulled his glasses down from the top of his head. He walked over to a glass jar that had a singular slip of paper left in it, grabbed it, and walked over to the prince.
“Please understand that tomorrow is the deadline to deliver gifts,” Vander said, stretching out the open jar to Fogado, “It is completely optional to inform your assigned person that you had them.”
Fogado playfully closed his eyes as he put his hand in the jar. He grabbed the slip between his index and middle finger and pulled it out.
Unraveling the paper, he found the name elegantly written:
Vander
Fogado’s eyes widened as he realized it was the man before him that he’d have to find a gift for in twenty-four hours. Though he respected Vander, he hadn’t a clue much of anything about him– and he’d likely not find something solid to go off of in the coming day.
“I must admit: I was planning on leaving soon, and– if no one had come to retrieve that last name– I was going to take the slip and gift another person.”
Though he retained his small smile, the sentence sent a wave of sadness over his heart. He felt horrible– Fogado couldn’t imagine the backbone of the team pulling his own name and never receiving a gift because he forgot to participate in a game he helped suggest.
“You got a big heart, Sir Vander,” Fogado mumbled.
Vander laughed and put a hand on the Prince’s shoulder as Fogado stuffed the paper into his pocket.
“Not at all, boy. Now, please excuse me– I must finish some things here before resigning myself to the night.”
Fogado nodded. “Ah, yeah– gotcha. Goodnight, Vander…”
–
Exiting the office with a heavy heart, Fogado walked for a while and stopped in the gardens. He put his back to the wall of a nearby staircase and fell himself to the ground, staring blankly into the herbage.
What could Fogado possibly buy for Vander? What would that guy even want?
Fogado thought long and hard– fruitlessly. Nothing came to mind– and perhaps it could be attributed to the distracting humming noise that would not cease. Eventually, Fogado arose and followed the sound to a large bush.
What animal got loose out of the stables?
Fogado tilted his head, pushing through the vines and leaves to find a long-haired man with his legs crossed. The man turned his head and gasped, standing up.
“Oh– my bad, Zelkov– didn’t mean’ta–”
“My word ! It must be illegal to meditate upon this land!”
“I– dude, what?”
Zelkov let out a frustrated grunt. “I am forced to the underside of that bush because it is the quietest location on the Somniel. Your dearest Prince Alcryst ruined my focus by coming home and humming a most ridiculous tune.”
“Yep, wouldn’t know what that’s like,” Fogado said, each word dripping with mirth.
“Alas– my roommate has made me acutely aware of my words begetting offense from others. I apologize for my emotional outburst.”
“Don’t worry about it–” Fogado remedied, “I’m on the verge of having my own ‘emotional outburst’, too.”
“Whatever do you mean, Prince Fogado?”
“Eh,” Fogado moaned, “I messed up real real bad, Zelkov. Forgot all about Secret Santa, and tomorrow’s the deadline. Think I’m screwed on this one.”
Zelkov’s permanently-lowered eyelids slightly raised. “I find it shocking that a Prince from such an upstanding country could forget such a commitment.”
“Never said I was perfect.”
“I cannot recall you ever saying that,” Zelkov said, “but alas; I am certain you would not have forgotten if something more important was occupying your mind.”
Ready to head back to his dorm, Fogado began:
“Yeah– somethin’ like that. Welp–”
“I have decided .”
Fogado shook his head. “Uh– alright. What’s up?”
“Princess Ivy has demanded I create positive relationships upon this island whilst our cadre occupies it. To serve this goal, I shall accompany and help you find the gift you need for your ‘Secret Santa’.”
Though Fogado’s initial response was to reject the offer of help, he quickly realized he had nothing to lose by obtaining assistance from Alcryst’s roomie.
“Hmm– well, alrighty, then! Can’t say no to some help.”
“Excellent. Now, to narrow down the selection of presents we can choose from, tell me: who is your recipient?”
“Vander.”
Zelkov remained silent for a moment.
“This will be my greatest challenge yet.”
–
Fogado and Zelkov spent roughly thirty minutes shooting back and forth ideas for Vander’s present. Some ideas were good, but inconceivable to find within twenty-four hours; some ideas were decent, but simply ‘not enough’ for the ever-incredible Vander; and some ideas were bad. The wind chill had become unbearable outside, so Zelkov asked Fogado to wait in his dorm until he had figured out something.
Fogado had been home for hours and was preparing to take a shower and sleep it off. He eventually accepted his fate that Vander wasn’t getting a good present; he’d have to fess up and tell the steward what he’d done. After laying on his bed and contemplating the best course of action for a while, he decided to give up and find his towel. As if Zelkov had been waiting for him to hop out of bed, Fogado immediately heard a knock at the door as his feet touched the ground.
Fogado opened the door to an unusually smiley Zelkov.
“Uh… hey buddy…” Fogado said, gripping the doorknob slightly tighter.
“Come with me. I have found the key to your predicament.”
Fogado blinked. “Woah– really?!”
“Why would I come to your door just to lie to you?”
Fogado laughed: he had forgotten how literal his crush’s roommate was. “You’re so right, man. Lemme get my coat!”
–
Fogado followed Zelkov throughout the Somniel. He was quiet as he led the Prince down the stairs of the dorms and into the office hall. Silence was certainly normal for Zelkov, but not to the extent he was holding it. Fogado kept asking Zelkov where they were going as they wandered through the near-endless hallways– to no reply.
After what felt like an eternity of speed walking, Zelkov abruptly stopped in front of a door. Unprepared for the sudden halt, Fogado slammed into his back and nearly pushed him to the ground.
“Brother, what are you doing?!” Fogado yelped, grabbing Zelkov’s arm to steady him.
As Zelkov regained his footing, he yanked his arm back from the Prince. “We have arrived. There is no need to be so excitable.”
Fogado shook his head and realized they were standing in front of Vander’s office. He slowly turned his head, bearing a most downtrodden face.
“This… was your big plan? To waltz in there and just ask ‘im what he wants?”
“No. He is not here .”
“Are we gonna decorate his door ?”
“That would be a terrible present.”
“ZELKOV, what are we doing here?!”
Zelkov shook his head, lowering his eyes to his frock and digging into his pockets.
“Prince Fogado, we are here to collect data on Vander straight from the source. As I told you prior to our journey: I have the key .”
Fogado’s eyes widened as Zelkov pulled out a set of keys that would be too large to fit into any of the dorm’s doors. He put the largest key on the ring into the door and turned it.
“Zelkov, how did you–” Fogado stammered as the door popped open, “you are gonna get us kicked off this damn island!”
“Nonsense,” Zelkov remedied, pushing the door open, “We are far too important to this team to receive ‘the boot’. Rest assured that I normally would have done this with consent from Vander himself.”
“Okay… and why didn’tcha get consent?”
“ Because … he told me no.”
“Zelkov!”
“I will admit,” Zelkov said, “I understand this is against the rules. However, any rules enforced upon this island are overwritten by Princess Ivy’s orders. She has demanded I create positive relations upon the Somniel and– to forgo this mission with the Prince of Solm– I am risking the future relations between Elusia and Solm.”
Fogado stared blankly at Zelkov.
“What.”
“If nothing else, please trust that I have considered every possible option, and this is our final, remaining one. There is no need to fret: Vander is enveloped in a deep, deep slumber, and there is no reason for us to stay all night. I am certain we will find the information we need rather quickly.”
Fogado sighed. He had thought it over a million times, too: this was probably their last resort.
“Alright, man… let’s get this done.”
–
After an hour of searching through Vander’s office it seemed Zelkov was becoming annoyed: Fogado had never heard him huff and puff as much as he’d done in the last thirty minutes. As Fogado was flipping through a backdated journal of the steward he heard Zelkov slam another book shut.
“This is all so ridiculously cluttered!” Zelkov groaned, helping himself to Vander’s chair, “For such organized leadership efforts he provides to the team you would not think for a moment this would be that man’s office.”
Fogado nodded. “You’re right. It– it’s kinda strange. I mean, look at his desk: there’s books and papers from all these bookshelves sitting over here– there’s no way that guy could work here. It’s almost like…”
Zelkov looked to Fogado. “Like what , Your Highness?”
“Like… was he looking for somethin’?”
Zelkov’s eyes widened slightly. “Interesting.”
“Whatcha mean?”
“If your theory is correct,” Zelkov pondered, “this would be better than a present. Clearly the man does not need anything; look at this room. If he has lost something he cares deeply for– and it was reacquired– that would be a much greater gift, no?”
Fogado’s face lit up, the twinkle in his eye reemerging. He smiled and put down the diary he held.
“You are soo right! But if the man himself can’t find it, how are we gonna–”
Their planning would come to a halt as the door slammed open. The pair gasped.
Vander.
The men froze as Vander slowly walked in. He stood in the doorway, eyeing Zelkov.
“Sir Zelkov… implore me: how did you get those keys?”
Zelkov looked down at his pocket: the key to Vander’s office was dangling out. Zelkov let off a small sigh.
“I… took them off your sleeping body.”
–
The pair’s wrists were bound together with the same rope, their fingers slightly grazing each other’s. They sat back to back, watching Vander carefully calculate his next move.
“Now,” Vander began, pacing back and forth, “you are to explain to me how this happened. I am immeasurably disappointed in the both of you. With your background of assassination and thievery, Zelkov, I could understand; but you , Prince Fogado–”
“We weren’t gonna steal anything, Vander!” Fogado cried out, tears in his eyes, “I–”
“It was my idea,” Zelkov said coolly, “Prince Fogado was in need of help and I took measures of my own accord.”
“What kind of ‘help’? What did you need?” Vander questioned, now standing in front of Fogado.
“I…” Fogado sighed, “I got you… for Secret Santa.”
Vander’s eyes widened. “You… uh…”
“Prince Fogado required assistance in finding your present on such short notice,” Zelkov bluntly explained, “It was my idea to peruse your chamber and attempt to find some answers.”
Vander let off a few bewildered blinks before recollecting himself. “I– I believe you. Regardless of your… ‘positive’ intentions, this office is strictly off limits to anyone without my consent or my being here. There are harsh consequences to–”
“Sir Vander, may I propose a question?” Zelkov interrupted.
Vander’s head twitched in the direction of Zelkov. “Um… yes?”
“According to my memory, you are scheduled for nightly hall duty this month, correct?”
Vander nodded. “Yes. Why–”
“The time you take your rounds is from the hours of 3:30 a.m. to 4:00 a.m., am I right?”
“I– yes, but–”
“It is currently 1:05 a.m., and when I snuck into your dorm at 11:45 p.m. I did not wake you, and stayed behind your door for ten minutes to ensure your body did not have a delayed reaction to my presence. My question is: why are you here? Why are you awake?”
“Zelkov…” Fogado nervously growled, scared of a worse punishment from Vander.
“I– well!” Vander laughed nervously, “You see… I was just…”
“Since we are in the mood for a tell-all,” Zelkov brazenly questioned, “please implore us: what are you doing?”
Vander groaned. “I… well, gentlemen: I am in the same boat. I am searching for a gift.”
Fogado’s eyes widened. “Huh?”
“Interesting development!” Zelkov remarked, “You are down to the final wire, also.”
“I… got the Divine Dragon,” Vander sighed, “and I do know what I’d like to give her, but I cannot find it.”
“Well… whatcha wanna get ‘er?” Fogado asked.
Vander sighed. “The passing of Queen Lumera– her mother– was an unexpected travesty. Her mother spent a thousand years awaiting her wake, and days after she was revived, she was cruelly murdered. The Divine Dragon never got to fully remember her mother. I thought the best thing to find her– for both Queen Lumera and Alear alike– was to find a memento from the time they spent together a millennium ago.”
“Did you have a specific artifact in mind?” Zelkov asked.
Vander nodded, walking over to his desk. “I did. Queen Lumera mentioned to me decades ago that– in Alear’s chambers in Lythos Castle– she kept a small journal in her bedside table, detailing stories of their short time together. The Queen treasured her daughter’s journal, and kept it in Alear's room to better preserve her memory.”
“Why not go to Lythos Castle and pick it up?” Fogado questioned.
“The problem lies with the door to her prior abode itself,” Vander sighed, rummaging through his desk, “It is locked, and I’ve searched the entirety of Lythos Castle for a key; it is not there. The only logical explanation is it is here on the Somniel. My luck has run dry, it seems: I cannot find it.”
“A logical explanation for this hoarded room, too, it seems,” Zelkov nodded.
“Dude!” Fogado whispered, yanking on their tied arms.
Vander grunted. “Yes… I’ve torn this place apart in search of that key. Queen Lumera once occupied this office; I can only wonder if this is the key’s final resting place.”
“I believe I may be able to assist,” Zelkov said lightly, “I believe I may have found a hidden spot for such an object earlier.”
“What?” Vander yelped.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“May I show you?” Zelkov asked, turning toward Vander.
“I– yes.”
Vander came up to the pair and untied their hands. Zelkov stood up, dusting off his frock and stretching his back. He walked to the rolling stairs of the larger set of bookcases, and walked up to the highest step of the ladder.
“This ladder is a tad rickety . Vander, please– push me two cases down.”
Vander nodded, abiding his request and slowly pushing. Zelkov raised his hand to pause Vander as he reached his destination. He pulled books down from the top of the shelf and handed them to Vander, revealing a small door with a lock.
“How’d you find that?!” Fogado asked, bewildered.
“I couldn’t bear the mess upon the ground, and you jumped to it first, Prince Fogado,” Zelkov shrugged, “I decided to take to the far more organized skies .”
“I have never been able to go up there myself,” Vander said excitedly, “well? How do you open it?”
“May I see your keys once more, Sir Vander?”
Vander let out a small breath, reached into his pocket, and lifted up the quite-full keyring.
Zelkov quickly snatched the keys, and flipped to the smallest one on the ring.
“Have you ever found use for this one, Sir Vander?”
“I– actually… no. Queen Lumera gifted me those when she gave me this office. There’s still a few I’m uncertain they go to.”
“Interesting,” Zelkov mumbled, pushing the key into the lock.
It opened.
Zelkov pulled out a silver and gold key with a vibrant-blue ribbon strung through it. Gripping the key in his left hand, he used his right to help slide himself down the ladder and place the key in Vander’s hand.
“Sir Zelkov, hand me my key ring!” Vander gasped.
Zelkov tossed the ring to the steward, who immediately grabbed a similar key. He held them up together:
“This… is the same as the key to Queen Lumera’s chambers!”
Vander smiled wildly and gripped the blue-ribboned key harder, his eyes darting toward the door.
“Come with me, boys.”
As Vander fleed the room, Zelkov walked over to Fogado and helped him back to his feet.
"Zelkov..." Fogado said, "that was incredible. I thought he was gonna kill us."
"Indeed, it was a tense moment."
"How did you know he was on hall duty?"
"I... did not know he was on hall duty. I pulled it out of my ass."
"Come, men!" Vander screamed from the hall, "We must embark to Lythos!"
—
After a surprisingly smooth trip to the castle beneath the Somniel, they successfully found the journal they were looking for. They arrived back upon the Somniel as the bright, fiery-orange sun had made way upon the horizon. To the three’s surprise it had snowed, covering the Somniel in a thick blanket of fluffy powder.
“Gentlemen,” Vander commented, leading them through the Somniel, “I do believe this is the first snow of the year.”
“A welcome sight,” Zelkov agreed, pushing his hands into opposing sleeves, “I’m certain this will provide a much needed taste of home to Princess Ivy.”
“Y’know,” Fogado smiled, “I think this is my first time seein’ it in person. Doesn’t snow in Solm, like, ever.”
“You must embark upon a trip to Elusia one day,” Zelkov said to the Prince, “the snow there is incomparable; I would take much pleasure in showing you skyscraper icicles.”
“Woah, skyscraper– wait, you would?”
“ Indeed , I would.”
Fogado smiled; it was the first time Zelkov had ever said something so friendly to him.
“Well, it’s settled: I’ll be there!”
–
Vander stopped by his office to quickly wrap the journal in brown paper and tie it with twine, and told the pair to come along with him as he delivered it to Alear.
Fogado and Zelkov stood at each side of the door as Vander knocked to waken the Divine Dragon.
“Come in!” She shouted with a yawn.
The two had agreed to stay behind as Vander presented the gift to her, but the moment he shut the door Fogado and Zelkov both put their ear up to the door to listen in.
“Ah– good morning, Vander!” Alear cheerily said, “Thanks for getting me up this time.”
“Good morning, your Divinity,” Vander said, his voice tiring, “I have something for you.”
“Oh– what’s up?”
As Vander explained that he was her Secret Santa, Fogado and Zelkov were having a rough go of it sharing the door. After bickering and telling each other to scoot and move, Fogado’s hand accidentally grazed and gripped the doorknob just enough to swing open the door. The pair fell onto the floor of the Divine Dragon’s room.
The two gasped at the men on the floor.
“Oh, you two–” Vander began angrily.
“Oh– hey guys!” Alear laughed, rushing over to help up her teammates.
Fogado and Zelkov both took an arm and propped themselves up off the ground. Vander pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.
“Your Divinity… these two fine young men– they helped me obtain your gift.”
Alear paused with a smile, and began to walk back to Vander, who was still holding her present.
“Oh, c’mon, you guys,” she chuckled, “what on Elyos could the three of you collaborate on to get me ?”
She took the present in her hands and carefully untied the twine, allowing it to float gracefully onto the floor. She followed suit with the brown wrapping paper, which caused Vander to scurry to the ground and quickly collect the trash.
“I…” she said in bewilderment, “it’s beautiful, truly… what exactly…?”
“Your Divinity,” Vander began, “perhaps one of the greatest losses of my lifetime was the tragic passing of your mother, Queen Lumera. Though your memory is hazed, I know that loss was tremendous upon you, too. I know that– despite your memory loss– you felt her motherhood to be true in the short time you spent together. My greatest regret in this life is not being able to save your mother… so that you may be able to remember who you are, and where you came from.”
“Yes…” Alear whispered, “and this journal… like my mother, it too, feels…”
“This journal is the one you kept at your bedside a millennium ago,” Vander spoke, clutching the paper in his hand, “according to the Queen, you had just begun that journal a mere month before you were fatally wounded– it is incomplete. The few entries within the journal are brief, however; if there was the slightest chance it could jog your memory… if it could give you a glimpse into your past…”
Alear nodded, tears welling in her eyes. “This… what a beautiful gift. I can’t begin to explain how grateful I am.”
“Divine Dragon, if I may,” Zelkov said, “if it is not an intrusion to your privacy , I am certain I would be speaking for all of us when I ask: would you read us a passage?”
“Zelkov, that is so–” Fogado annoyedly began.
Alear smiled and wiped her eyes. “I– of course!”
Zelkov gave Fogado a small smile as the Divine Dragon flipped through the first few pages of the journal. She stopped, and cleared her throat:
“This page says: ‘The date is January 19th. I awoke with more horrid nightmares of war, of a girl begging me to help her… mother was there when I awoke. She petted my hair as I cried, and told me it was going to be just fine. It was. Mother is disallowing me to go into the gardens today; she says there is a surprise waiting for me there in preparation for my birthday tomorrow. I’ve never cared much of my birthday, but… this one. I think I’d like to celebrate this time.’”
Alear smiled and flipped the page. “The next page: ‘January twentieth. Today I am eighteen years old. Before bed last night, I asked mother to wake me up in the morning– I don’t want to have nightmares anymore. She held true to her word and woke me up; I could not recall my dreams. She hugged me tightly and wished me a happy birthday. We ate breakfast and I practically begged her to let me see the gardens. We spent the day together taking a long walk around Lythos and returned back home for dinner, where we ate in the garden. It was… beautiful. Music, decorations, presents… I could not wish for a better mother. I just wished… for the girl, from my dream– whichever one she was– to be there. In truth, I wished all of them there. Mother comforted me and told me they’ll come home soon. I believe her. She is a good mother.’”
After a moment of silence from the three of them, Fogado spoke up:
“So.. d’you remember that birthday?”
Alear smiled a sad smile and closed the journal, and looked down at it fondly. “I… I don’t know. It feels so real… and it’s my handwriting– I know these are my words. Oh, Vander, I’m sorry…”
Vander put a hand upon her shoulder. “Your Divinity, there is no need to apologize. I am exhilarated that you've been reunited with a piece of your history. I hope you enjoy it.”
Alear nodded. “It’s like I said– I can feel it. I know this… it’s mine. My memory isn’t there but… I just know. Thank you– all three of you!”
–
After exchanging thanks and hugs with the three, the men took their leave from Alear’s room. The sun had risen slightly higher, its hue faded from a burnt orange to a tender yellow. Fogado and Zelkov buttoned their coats as Vander began to speak:
“I am thankful for your help, gentlemen– this present would not have been possible without the likes of you both. Regardless, there is the matter of the consequences of stealing my keys and breaking into my office.”
The men became stiff, and gave each other an apprehensive look. Vander held his furrowed brow along with a moment of silence, but then quickly released it.
“Well– I believe an eye was given for an eye in your both’s assistance in obtaining my gift to the Divine Dragon. I feel no need to pass judgement upon the both of you.”
“It is a Christmas miracle,” Zelkov said with a smile.
“You’re the best, Vander,” Fogado said, quickly remembering how he got into the mess in the first place, “but… I still haven’t gotten you a present, so…”
Vander shook his head and smiled. “Young man, in my old age I lack the desire for ‘things’. In placing my name for Secret Santa, I did it mostly for just love of the sport; I never thought I’d get to give the Divine Dragon her precious journal again. That, my boy, your assistance– I believe it to be the perfect gift.”
Vander stuck out his hand and shook Fogado and Zelkov’s with a smile, and turned in the direction of his office. “Now boys– forgive me, but I must be off; I have a messied desk that I’m dying to tidy!”
Vander departed, spinning his heavy keyring on his finger and whistling a tune. Fogado turned to Zelkov.
“Thanks, man. I owe ya one.”
“You owe me nothing. I do apologize for my unorthodox methods.”
Fogado smiled. “Hey– kept meaning to ask you– who’d you end up getting for Secret Santa?”
“ Me ?” Zelkov laughed, “I do not play such childish games. Now; I must be off– I will awaken my roommate so we can admire the long-awaited snow.”
Despite the half-insult, Fogado followed the now speeding off Zelkov:
“Oh– I’m comin’ with! You two northerners are gonna show me how a snowball fight is done!”