Cursed Christmas

By Shadowcloud - with art by Laruk (Furaffinity) 


Prologue

One evening in late November, Shadow, the stocky black-and-purple anthro dragon, sat upon his amethyst throne, absorbed in an old leather-bound book titled 'Curiosities of the Between Worlds: A Travel Guide to Portals, Interspaces, and Occasionally Lost Dimensions'. Its pages were filled with strange illustrations, cryptic maps, humorous footnotes about the minor pitfalls of entering foreign worlds, and magical formulas that Shadow had long since tested himself during his travels through other dimensions. The book wasn't a guide. It was familiar. A quiet ritual he no longer truly needed, but still indulged in. More than once, a smirk crept onto his snout, especially when a portal-devouring goblin in one particularly absurd illustration appeared to be crawling straight out of the page.

Ychie, his pastel-lavender Sergal servant, ever loyal and quietly attentive, moved softly through the throne room, replacing the flickering candles on the holders by the fireplace and along the sideboards. The gentle crackle of the fire blended with the turning of pages and the dragon's occasional, mildly bored sigh. Shadow studied the book less out of necessity and more out of habit.

Suddenly, the fireplace hissed sharply. A spray of sparks burst forth as several flames began to dance on their own, twisting together into the shape of a small, glowing firebird. Clutched in its talons was a letter, its parchment burning green without suffering any harm. Shadow raised an annoyed brow, lowered the book, and rose slowly to his paws. The firebird hovered in the center of the room, wings slightly spread, as though waiting patiently for the letter to be taken.

With a precise motion, Shadow plucked the enchanted letter from the bird's claws. Instantly, the creature lost its form and vanished in a swirl of smoke, as if it had never existed.
"Who wants something from me now...?", Shadow muttered as he carefully unfolded the smoldering parchment. Green flames still licked faintly along its edges as he skimmed the words.


"Hey Shadow,
You probably know what time of year is coming up again.
If it is alright with you, and only if you truly want to... could we spend this coming Sunday together? I would take care of a proper feast, I promise.
I would, of course, also understand if you would rather decline due to your... position. Just... let me know.
~Arroc"


Shadow snorted softly, a barely noticeable chuckle escaping him.
"What an entrance for such a simple request.", he murmured, a smile tugging at his muzzle. For all his power and reputation, it was rare that requests directed at him were this simple. And rarer still that he found himself genuinely pleased by them.

At last, the green flames consumed the parchment entirely. With smooth, practiced movements, Shadow coaxed violet sparks from his fingertips, sending them skittering across the throne room as he wrote a brief reply, which was dispatched just as magically.

"But of course, Arroc. I would love nothing more than that! Just don't forget that I am not easily satisfied, so make sure to bring enough food. See you on Sunday.
~Shadowcloud"

The violet-burning paper vanished at once in a tiny firestorm. Shadow glanced around the room, a faint smile lingering on his lips.
"That will be enough for today. Put out the candles and come to bed. I still need someone to massage my paws. Chop chop!" He looked at Ychie and spoke in his calm, commanding tone.

"Yes, Master Shadow!", the small Sergal replied, barely half his master's size, yet swift as a shadow. He extinguished the candles, returned the dragon's book to the library, and then made his way to the sleeping quarters to attend to his usual duties.



Chapter 1 - First Sunday in Advent

The flames in the fireplace cast dancing shadows across the walls, while the scent of spices, roasted meat, and slightly sweet pastries still lingered heavy in the air. Arroc and Shadow leaned back in their seats, content. The plates were empty, only a few crumbs still glimmering in the candlelight. Outside, the first snowflakes drifted down, wrapping the dragon's land in a gentle white, while inside, the warm glow of countless candles turned the throne room into a cozy, sheltered bubble around the two of them.

Arroc grinned broadly, his eyes still sparkling with excitement, and stretched lazily. Shadow, by contrast, sank back into his chair with a deep, satisfied, almost sleepy sigh. The spicy warmth of the mead had clearly harmonized with him. Perhaps a little too much.

The flickering candlelight danced across the dragon's polished scales as Arroc watched him from the corner of his eye. It was rare to see Shadow this relaxed. Unarmored by arrogance, unguarded by rage. Just present. For a brief moment, the world seemed to pause. The crackle of the fire, the soft clink of dishes, the steady breathing of the dragon. Everything felt slow and harmonious. An evening worth remembering.

For a while, neither of them spoke. Fire crackled softly in the hearth, candlelight danced across stone and scale, and Shadow allowed himself a rare moment of stillness. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this at ease.

Arroc folded his hands behind his head and sighed contentedly.
"Hmmm... I think our Advent dinner turned out pretty well."

Shadow raised a brow, an amused glint flashing in his red eyes. He took the last sip from his goblet, a smile spreading across his snout as he looked at the kobold.
"Successful, yes. But I did not expect you to handle that much mead, little kobold."

Suddenly, Arroc flinched. He sprang up from his chair and darted toward the entrance hall. Shadow blinked, confused, watching him disappear. Barely a heartbeat later, the kobold returned, wearing a mischievous yet nervous smile.

Arroc stopped in front of the seated dragon, straightened up, dropped his gaze, straightened again, and finally pulled something out from behind his back. Four gilded rings, suspiciously resembling morbid, overly ornate candle holders, clinked softly against one another.

"W-would you maybe... I mean... if you want... put these thingies on?", Arroc muttered.
"I saw them on the way and just picked them up. They don't fit me, sadly. But maybe... they would suit you? Just as a little, funny gag... heh."

He shot Shadow an uncertain look. The dragon's poker face did not help. Arroc felt himself imploding internally. Only when Shadow sighed and shook his head in mild disbelief did a spark of hope return. The dragon studied the pleading puppy eyes. A critical hit, straight to the core. Every instinct told him he should refuse. This was undignified. Ridiculous. And yet, against his better judgment, he didn't say no.
"Hrmph... alright. But only for a moment...", Shadow grumbled.

Arroc shone like a star, clutching the rings to his chest as they jingled happily. Shadow briefly wondered if he had just made a terrible mistake. But it was too late now.
"Come on then. Hand them over, you little bouncy ball.", he added gruffly, trying to mask his own uncertainty.

The kobold eagerly placed all four rings into the dragon's twice-as-large hand. With another sigh, Shadow attached them one by one to his horns: two on the upward-curving main horns, two on the smaller ones bending downward. Each ring closed with a soft click.

Arroc was immediately off again, zipping past Ychie, who had been about to replace some candles, and returned moments later carrying four red candles.
"Can I put them in? Please! Please, please!", he asked, eyes shining.

"You want to add candles too...?", Shadow blinked, baffled. "...Fine. But be quick."

Arroc hopped in place, trying to reach the large head, but could not quite reach the horns. Shadow quickly lowered his head before the kobold got any ideas about climbing onto his lap. One candle after another was placed into the holders as Arroc cheerfully hummed a Christmas tune.

Just as Shadow was about to straighten up again, Arroc suddenly raised a finger.
"I have one more thing!"

Before the dragon could protest, the kobold had vanished into the entrance hall once more. There was rustling, clattering, frantic rummaging. Then Arroc returned, arms full, laden with Christmas decorations of every color and shape. Shadow's eyes widened.

"Do me a favor and tell me you are not planning what I think you are.", Shadow said flatly.

"What do you think then?", Arroc grinned.

"You are not about to decorate my entire throne room, are you?", the dragon asked, uncertain.

"No. Much better. I am decorating YOU!", Arroc replied without hesitation.

Shadow froze.
"You give someone a finger, and they take the whole arm... Fine. Go on. Just get it over with."
He shook his head, unable to suppress a small, pained grin. Anyone else would not have lived to see yet another Advent. But Arroc was simply too cute to stay angry at.  

The kobold was in full holiday ecstasy. Shadow, meanwhile, wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole. Arroc wrapped a blinking string of lights around the dragon's horns, hung a glittering, bauble-laden Advent wreath around his neck, and added tinsel garlands and shimmering strips between his horns. Each new decoration was another blow to Shadow's carefully preserved draconic dignity.

When Arroc finally clapped his hands, Shadow flinched.
"Perfect! But one thing is still missing. You do know what day it is today, right? Today, a candle HAS to be lit!"

The puppy-eyes were back. Those cursed, flawless eyes. Shadow sighed deeply.
"You should really reconsider how often you use that look on me. I don't stand a chance against it. ...Fine."

Something about it unsettled him, though he could not yet say why. He dismissed the feeling just as quickly.
He lowered his head slightly and breathed a small violet flame from his snout onto the lower left candle. It ignited with a soft, violet glow. Arroc's eyes sparkled. In that moment, Shadow was likely the most beautiful Christmas miracle the kobold had ever seen.

Though neither of them realized that by lighting the first candle, the curse of the four rings had awakened.



After Shadow had generously allowed the kobold to take a few photographs of him -  souvenirs Arroc would likely treasure for the rest of his life, while the dragon himself barely recognized the reflection staring back at him - Shadow finally began to free himself from the decorations with a weary sigh. Arroc had enjoyed himself quite enough.

First, Shadow tore the itchy Advent wreath from around his neck, flicking a few pine needles from his chest plates in irritation. Next came the shimmering garland, followed by the blinking string of lights still dangling from his horns. Finally, he pulled away the tinsel that had become hopelessly tangled between the ridges and curves of his horns. In the end, only the candle on his lower left horn remained, along with the golden rings themselves.

Shadow leaned forward slightly, drew in a deep breath, and blew at the flame. The violet light flickered, dimmed, and went out - A heartbeat later, it flared back to life, burning just as brightly as before.
The dragon frowned. He tried again, this time with a forceful snort. Same result. Then he pinched the flame between two fingers. It vanished, only to return instantly. Even tipping a generous drop of mead from his goblet onto it did nothing. The flame stubbornly refused to die.

Shadow's eyes narrowed. Suspicious now, he reached up and grasped one of the golden rings, intending to simply unclip it. But there was nothing to unclip. No seam. No hinge. No gap at all. It was as though the rings had been cast directly around his horns, as if they had never been removable in the first place.

"Tell me, Arroc... Where did you say you got those rings again?", Shadow asked calmly, far too calmly, though a subtle vibration crept into his voice. 

Arroc blinked twice, confusion flickering across his face as he tilted his head.
"Somewhere. On the road. They were shining so nicely, so I just took them with me. Why? Is that important?", he asked curiously.

Shadow inhaled slowly. Then exhaled just as deliberately.
"Well... Let us put it this way: We have two problems. First, the candle refuses to go out. And second, these cursed rings are stuck. Very much stuck."

He continued trying to wedge a claw beneath one of the rings, prying at it from different angles while holding up a mirror to see better. Each time it seemed to give, even slightly, a cold turquoise glow rippled across the metal. The ring hardened instantly, refusing to budge.



As Shadow tried once more to force a claw beneath the first ring, something strange happened. For the briefest instant, no longer than a blink, a fine rune shimmered across the smooth metal surface. A single curved symbol, glowing pale turquoise, as though etched by an unseen hand. But the moment his focus locked onto it, it vanished. No trace remained. No lingering glow. As if it had never been there at all. Shadow frowned. Even by the standards of enchanted objects, this was not a good sign.

Arroc watched the scene unfold, and in that moment, all festive joy drained from him. His ears drooped, his tail curled inward, and panic flooded his eyes. Slowly, he seemed to shrink, as though the weight of his guilt were physically pressing him down. Shadow caught his own reflection in the mirror. A towering dragon, crowned with an indestructible Advent candle. Ridiculous did not even begin to cover it. Anyone else would have paid for such a mistake with their life. But Arroc was Arroc. An exception. A soft spot in the heart of an otherwise ruthless dragon.

Shadow closed his eyes tightly, took a steadying breath, then rested a large, warm hand atop the kobold's head.
"Oh, little one... what kind of trouble do you always manage to attract...? It looks like these rings are... well. Magical? Enchanted? Possibly cursed? And now, somehow... permanently attached to my horns."

Arroc trembled outright with anxiety. Shadow had meant to reassure him, but his words only made things worse. The kobold stared at his own paws, shoulders shaking, before the first tears slipped free and dotted his paws.
"I-I'm sorry, Shadow... I didn't know. I... never should have asked you. I just wanted to... I ruined everything..."

Shadow lowered himself to one knee so they were at eye level, placing a firm but gentle hand on Arroc's shoulder.
"Easy now. I'm the one who failed to say no. And besides... my flames are entirely magical. It might even be my fault that the candle is behaving this way. We will sort this out. Somehow. Hopefully."

Arroc lifted his gaze cautiously, eyes still shimmering with tears.
"S-so... I did not ruin our evening?"

Shadow flashed a wide, overly confident grin that did a poor job of hiding his concern.
"Not at all. If anything is certain, it's that we will never forget this evening."




Chapter 2 - Second Sunday of Advent


Shadow hadn't dared to step outside even once during the entire past week in his current condition, and already the weekend had come around again. Still, nothing - absolutely nothing - had changed. The purple candle continued to burn cheerfully and shamelessly steady, as if it were mocking him anew every morning. No matter what he tried, it flared back to life again and again, and the rings remained just as immovably stuck to his horns.

As pleasant as the Advent dinner with Arroc had been, Shadow now wished he could simply erase that evening from his memory. In his present state, he barely dared to take a single step outside his throne room. He felt like a grim monument that had been absurdly plastered with festive decorations. But after nearly a full week of waiting, hoping, and irritated shouting matches with his servant, Shadow had finally reached his limit.

That morning, when he rose groggily and caught his reflection in the mirror, the bloody candle was still glowing in the deep violet hue of his own flames. For a moment, he thought he saw it again: a faint, barely perceptible symbol shimmering across the metal. A delicate arc. A line. Then it vanished. Maybe imagination. Maybe not. Either way, it was a bad sign.

With a deep, irritated growl, he stomped out of his bedchamber into the throne room, where Ychie, his sergal servant, was already waiting as he did every morning. He stood upright, tail swaying, focused, holding a fresh cup of steaming coffee in his paws.

"G-good morning, Master Shadow. How did you sleep...?", the Sergal asked shyly, yet with earnest concern.

"Hrmph... Just like every night these things crawl into my dreams, only for me to wake up and see they're actually real. But today something changes. I swear it."

With an annoyed snort, the dragon snatched the cup from his paws and drained it in a few heavy gulps, as if trying to rinse all remaining patience out of himself.

Ychie carefully took back the empty cup. 
"W-what are you planning to do, Shadow?"

"I'm going to Y'Gharash. Maybe Laruk knows something. He understands curses well enough - and unfortunately, his better half Arroc, too."

Ychie lowered his ears and saluted awkwardly. "A-as you wish. I'll keep things running here, Master!"

Shadow allowed himself a brief grin. 
"You'd better. And keep my palace intact, or else..."

He raised his right hand slightly. A faint violet glow spread across his scales, until even the air itself began to tingle. With a calm, practiced motion, he traced a circle into the space before him. At first, only a handful of scattered sparks drifted lazily through the air. Then they sped up, hissing, carving violet streaks into the space around them, until they spun like a burning ring. With a deep, muffled crack, an oval tear opened in reality itself. Beyond it lay a bleak, basalt-gray platform deep within the wastelands of Y'Gharash, framed by shimmering fissures and a dim, eerie glow.

Shadow sighed heavily and stepped forward, placing one paw through the portal. The temperature change was immediate. The air smelled of cold stone and ancient magic. His claws touched solid ground, and as the rest of his body followed, the portal collapsed behind him with a sharp hiss. The imploding edge nearly caught the tip of his tail, but he yanked it free at the last second.

"Wonderful...", he muttered dryly as the underworld greeted him with oppressive silence. "If that isn't a sign of a fantastic day..."

After checking his tail for damage, he lifted his gaze to the towering gate arching above him. The black structure clawed at the sky as though it wanted to split the clouds apart. Its surface looked like a fusion of stone and metal, dark and alien, carved through with deep, irregular cracks filled with rune-like symbols. A dull white glow pulsed within them, slow and rhythmic, as if the gate itself were breathing.

These gates were the easiest - often the only - way to navigate Y'Gharash or reach it at all. Though many of their kind were scattered across the worlds, they were never placed at random. They always stood in locations of ancient importance or former strategic value, usually in places no sane being wanted to visit. Which was precisely why Shadow now faced a long and exhausting march.

Even though he knew Y'Gharash reasonably well - or at least Ru'Yknan, the smaller region in it, ruled by Laruk - he paused to steady his senses. The air here was different. Heavier. Colder. Dense with ancient, untamed magic. And above all, it was dark. Not merely night-dark, but a suffocating gloom that seemed to settle directly onto his scales. He waited until his eyes adjusted before looking up again. A pulsating green glow shimmered across the sky. Good. He wasn't as far from his destination as he'd feared. That did not, however, mean Laruk was anywhere nearby.

Jagged formations of glossy black, basalt-like stone rose around him like colossal teeth. Some leaned against one another at crooked angles, as though attempting to devour their neighbors. Only when green lightning tore through the sky did the chaotic silhouettes briefly make sense. A narrow, winding path stretched out ahead of him, curving toward the restless glow above. Probably the right way. Hopefully.

He sighed and set off along the path. To his left, crumbling rock walls had deep, crossing claw marks, as if something massive had clung to them before plunging into the abyss. To his right, the ground dropped away sharply, a sheer cliff whose depths even the green lightning failed to illuminate. Each step echoed harshly between the stone spires.

Above him, shapes shifted. Dulvi'ahn settled onto rocky ledges. Large, birdlike creatures with raven-like bodies and forms twisted straight from nightmares. Their elongated, malformed beaks and ragged feathers framed eyes that glimmered faintly like dull glass. They croaked softly as Shadow passed beneath them, their gazes sharp, curious, hungry - yet they kept their distance.

Other inhabitants of Ru'Yknan were no braver. Ulxax, marten-like beings with dark fur broken by poisonous green frills and bodies scarred by countless old and fresh wounds, darted across the path ahead of him before vanishing into narrow fissures. Further away lurked the Shukna'an, pale, skinny imps with long arms and legs so thin they looked as if a strong gust of wind could snap them in half. When Shadow's shadow reached them, they froze, stared at him with wide eyes, then scurried back into the darkness.

What might once have amused him now only weighed on his mood. Ru'Yknan was in high spirits. Bleak, chaotic, and nearly impossible to navigate. Green lightning flashed across the sky in the rhythm of a restless heart, the only true light source - aside from the shamelessly cheerful violet candle on his horn. At least it illuminated the ground close enough to keep him from stepping into empty air. Eyes glittered in unnatural colors from the surrounding cracks. Shadows darted. Something was crawling everywhere. The soundscape was a constant mix of rustling, hissing, distant screeches, and the low, rolling thunder that prowled endlessly across the jagged mountains.

Shadow ignored it all. He wasn't here to let half-dead underworld creatures ruin his day. He needed answers. And Laruk was the best - perhaps the only - being to consult when it came to enchanted or cursed objects. Still, he felt out of place. Not from fear. Not from respect. But because of the absurd holiday candle burning stubbornly atop his horn, turning him into a walking punchline. A massive, half-demonic dragon who called himself 'Deathbringer' or 'Destroyer of Worlds', trudging through a hellish realm while lighting his way with a violet Advent candle.
Yeah... Fantastic.

Every now and then, his concentration was broken by the roars and screeches of quarrelsome creatures fighting or lurking among the rocky peaks. The paths of Y'Gharash were still some of the most dangerous places imaginable, even for powerful beings. And Shadow knew that if anything truly enormous appeared here, it wouldn't respect him because of his aura - it would probably just stare at him and laugh at the candle on his horn. That would be doubly embarrassing.

Eventually, he reached the crest of a rocky ridge. The view over Ru'Yknan stretched wide before him. Even the icy wind up here failed to extinguish the candle. Towering rock spires pierced the sky like bones jutting from the world's corpse. Not a single tree grew here. Instead, the glowing green river Ry'nan coiled through the land, saturated with souls and brimming with energy. It pulsed and shimmered like liquid light gnawing its way through stone. At least it gave him something to follow. And he would need it. Laruk could be anywhere.

He turned and began following the river's poisonous glow toward Laruk's domain - a place even the denizens of the underworld avoided, despite their usual indifference to danger.
The journey grew easier from here. Unlike the earlier path, which he'd had to illuminate almost entirely with his unwanted Advent light, the river cast a steady glow across the stone. Shadow could now at least trust his vision not to fall into bottomless voids or hostile dens beneath his feet.

As he moved along the slope and the river drew closer, the world grew quieter. The Dulvi'ahn did not follow. Their croaking faded among the spires. Ulxax refused to approach the glowing water. Shukna'an withdrew as if the light itself were more toxic than any wound. Only the river remained, gurgling softly, its sound closer to a deep, unsettling hum. Somewhere far off, thunder still growled. But he admitted to himself that his vision was far clearer now. The path led softly downward and grew wider.

Then, at last, relief. Further downstream, Laruk was lying sprawled across one of the higher rock spires, his green-glowing form unmistakable. Despite his flaws, Shadow counted him among his closest friends. Laruk lounged with legs crossed, paws idly tapping along to some unheard melody. Of course, he'd noticed Shadow's arrival immediately - but true to form, he hadn't lifted a finger without being prompted.

A grin crept across Laruk's face as Shadow approached. The moment he raised his head fully, he had to bite back laughter.
"So this is your latest fashion statement? What in the hell happened to you?", the green demonic dragon asked while he lazily lifted his body.

"That's exactly why I'm here.", Shadow growled, rolling his eyes.

Laruk's grin widened. "Well... I'm listening. Where'd you get the fancy jewelry?"

Shadow exhaled noticeably. 
"I met with Arroc last weekend. Advent dinner. He insisted I feel at least a trace of holiday spirit. You know how his puppy eyes are and that I can't resist them.", He gestured sharply at his horns. "He gave me these rings. The plan was simple: decorate me, light the candle, take a few pictures, and remove everything again. End of story.", Shadow shrugged. 
"And now this stupid candle won't go out. Everytime I try to extinguish its flame, it lights up again. And the rings won't come off either."  

He tugged at one of the rings. The cold turquoise glow rippled across the metal instantly, hardening it. 

Laruk crossed his arms, clearly entertained. 
"So you came all the way just to tell me that you're not able to get those things off your horns?"

Shadow raised a brow in scepticism and nodded slightly.   
"Amusing. They fit you pretty well, if you ask me.", Laruk grinned.

"Oh, shut it!", Shadow growled. "You should be grateful I even come to visit you when I need help. So...? Can you do something about it, or should I start my humiliating journey back home and carry these things around forever?"
Shadow was already about to turn around and leave. At this point, he did not even know anymore what he had expected from Laruk in the first place. But right then, a grin far too wide crept across Laruk's face.  

"Hmmm... You know... Let me help ya, buddy.", he said, his tone instantly setting off every warning instinct Shadow had. Then he snapped his fingers.

Immediately, Shadow felt a new warmth spreading along one of his left horns. Cautiously, his gaze shifted upward. Then he froze. Next to the violet-burning candle, a second flame now burned. Green. Bright. Unmistakable.

His expression twisted as his red eyes flared dangerously, pulsing and twitching. Every last fuse in his mind blew at once. Laruk had simply lit another unquenchable candle. A small gesture, perhaps, but Laruk knew exactly how little it would take to push Shadow over the edge.

As fury surged through him, fueled by the shock of a betrayal he had never truly expected, a knife materialized in Shadow's right paw. The blade gleamed sharply in the ambient light.

"Today's the day~", he murmured to himself in a disturbingly melodic tone. "Today I'm gonna stab him~." 
Slowly and deliberately, he turned toward Laruk, fully prepared to put an end to the green demonic nuisance once and for all.

Snarling, shaking with rage, the violet dragon grinned wildly as he lunged forward, thrusting the knife toward Laruk's chest. 

But Laruk was faster. 

With a brief flash, a portal opened directly at the point of impact. The sudden lack of resistance brought Shadow back to his senses just enough for him to watch his knife vanish into the portal, his glowing eyes locking onto Laruk in stunned confusion.

"Did no one ever teach you not to play with knives?", Laruk asked calmly. "You should know better than anyone that each of us has the advantage in our own world."

Shadow's gaze darkened. With a low growl, he accepted the stalemate with a brief nod before snapping back to the point.
"You are such a bitch, you know that?", he hissed. "I know damn well you are behind this. Take them off now. Or I will completely lose it."

Laruk looked utterly unimpressed and laughed again. "Oh, how I wish I actually had something this seasonally appropriate prepared for you.", he said. "But no..." 

He raised his hands, closed his eyes briefly, and shook his head. "This time, I truly have nothing to do with it. Sorry, my friend. But maybe you should ask my oh-so-much-better half again." Laruk folded his arms, turned slightly away from Shadow, and tilted his head back toward him. "After all, don't forget... he's still a part of me."

"Arroc?!" Shadow snapped. "He wouldn't even hurt a fly! Have you seen his puppy eyes? Not even I can stay serious and say No to him. But... if Arroc gave me these things... and you are him... or... were him... but also not... I mean... then I thought it would be possible that you... him... I mean, you... him... I mean...", Shadow was stammering, confused by his own words and thoughts.

Laruk burst into loud laughter.
"Oh, this is wonderful. Really! One day I will tell Norvius this story. I have never seen you this completely baffled."

Shadow stared at him, his expression twitching dangerously, his temper already threatening to erupt again. But Laruk continued.

"All jokes aside, I cannot tell you what those things are. They are not from Ru'Yknan. Not from Laa'atreya. Most likely not even from Y'Gharash."

Shadow snarled in frustration, not only because he couldn't or didn't want to help him, but also because he added to his suffering and denied his revenge completely.
"Then why did you involve your damned flame instead of letting me suffer in peace?"

Laruk lifted his hands again in mock surrender, the grin never leaving his face.
"When else would I get the chance to humiliate the great and mighty 'Destroyer' right here? Besides, green looks fantastic on you. Don't you agree?"

"Hrmph...", Shadow growled, narrowing his eyes. "This is not over. I swear it."

Without another word, he stormed toward the gate to open his portal home. Laruk leaned back against his rocky perch, settling comfortably into his usual lazy sprawl. Just as Shadow lifted a paw to take his first step, Laruk lazily raised a finger, twirled it once, and opened a portal directly beneath Shadow's feet.

Shadow stepped into nothingness. His startled shout echoed through the gorge as he tumbled into the in-between world. Moments later, another portal spat him back out into his own throne room, slamming him unceremoniously onto the cold stone floor. Laruk, meanwhile, simply resumed his lounging, as if nothing had happened.

Shadow hit the ground with an undignified belly landing. Groaning, he stayed where he was, staring at the familiar kobold paws directly in front of him. He slammed his fist against the floor and swore silently that one day he would strangle Laruk with his own hands and finally end that demonic idiot.

Arroc, the little kobold, stood frozen in front of him. Worried, startled, and deeply confused, he looked down at the large dragon. Slowly, he began to understand what must have happened. He took a deep breath, knelt down beside Shadow, and carefully took hold of his arm.

"I-is everything okay? W-what happened?", he asked, his voice trembling. When he noticed the second candle, this time burning with a green flame, he recoiled in shock. "Why a green flame...? W-were you...?"

Shadow groaned as he rolled onto his back, looked up at Arroc, and let out a deep sigh. "Yes. I have your worse other half to thank for that.", he muttered. "That miserable bastard. He thought it would be funny to make life even harder for me, the 'great destroyer of worlds'. One day I'll chop off his fingers, I swear."

His eyes flared up in an aggressive red again, pulsing in time with his rising anger. But when he noticed the hurt, sorrowful look on Arroc's face, he forced himself to take a long, slow breath. Then another. Only then did he continue, calmer now, though clearly exhausted.

"I only went to ask him because I thought he was behind it. Or you. Or however the two of you handle this whole splitting thing. He was also responsible for that weird... cat thing back then. And he did get what he deserved for that. He will for this as well. Eventually. But... he says he knows nothing about it. He sent me back to you. After all, you were the one who gave me the rings."

Arroc nodded at first, but his expression began to crumble as Shadow spoke. His grip on the dragon's arm loosened, his ears drooped, and his eyes grew glassy. A pitiful sob escaped him before he could even form words.

"B-but... I... w-... I d-did... y-you..." He waved his hands helplessly, shook his head, and managed nothing more than broken, stammered murmurs. It was almost endearing, unfamiliar even. Shadow only sighed and slowly pushed himself upright. Carefully, he placed a paw on Arroc's shoulder.

"Shhh... it's alright. You do not need to have a stroke over it right away.", the dragon murmured, a faint spark of sarcastic humor in his voice.

"Where exactly did you get those things? You only said you found them."

"W-well... th-they... were lying at the edge of the forest. N-next to a strange-looking stone... b-buried under... leaves. I only noticed them because... the book was so obvious..." Arroc stammered, lowering his gaze.

Shadow closed his eyes briefly so Arroc would not see him roll them, then covered his snout with his hand. "In Y'Gharash?" he asked.
Arroc nodded.

"There are forests there?" Shadow muttered, askingly. "I only know the land of your other half."

Arroc merely shrugged, embarrassed and unable to look up. Shadow grabbed his arm a little too firmly.

"Arroc. I need your help if I ever want to get rid of these damn things. Do you understand?"

His claws pressed slightly into Arroc's shoulder, which only made the kobold look even more miserable. Tears rolled down his cheeks and dripped onto Shadow's paw.
"Oh, come on, little one. Please! I'm not as angry with you as it might look. Right now I'd much rather decapitate your other half."

His anger flared up again briefly, and Arroc sobbed once more. Shadow let out a loud sigh, then chose a more direct approach. Suddenly, he grabbed Arroc by both shoulders and pulled him straight onto his lap as he was still sitting on the floor. His arms closed firmly around the small, trembling kobold.

"Hey. Easy now.", he rumbled, pressing Arroc's head against his chest. "We'll fix this. Just calm down first. I'm not mad at you as long as you help me, alright?"

Arroc clung to Shadow's chestplate, sobbing softly, while the large dragon soothed him by slowly scratching his back. Only after several minutes did the kobold lift his head again, his face tear-streaked and exhausted.
"B-but... h-how am I supposed to help you? S-so far I've only made everything worse..."

"You haven't.", Shadow replied quietly. "If anyone made things worse, it was Laruk. Not you." He deliberately left unsaid that without Arroc, none of this would have happened in the first place.

After a few more moments of silence, Arroc shifted slightly and sighed, still barely able to speak. Shadow gently nudged him with the tip of his snout.
"Hey. Feeling a little better? You mentioned a book. Do you still have it?"
Arroc nodded timidly.

"Can you bring it to me? Maybe there's something in there that will help. And besides...", Shadow added with a faint grin, "why are you in my palace while I'm not even here? Do you miss me that much~?"
The kobold nodded to both parts of the question.

"Y-yes. A-after everything that happened, it's the least I can do."

"Snooping around my palace while I'm away?", Shadow asked with a quiet chuckle. Arroc immediately looked sad again and leaned back against his chest, sulking.

"Oh, come on. Can't you take a joke anymore?", Shadow said softly. "You're always welcome here. Whether I'm around or not. You know that, little one."

Arroc sighed again while the dragon gently ruffled his head. 
"So... about the book..."

The kobold lifted his head, wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and opened a small portal beside him. His arm disappeared into it almost up to the elbow. A faint, muffled clinking could be heard as he rummaged around briefly before reappearing with the heavy book in his hands.
"H-here. I-hope it helps.", Arroc murmured, handing it to the dragon.

"You could have told me right away that it was that easy for you," Shadow grumbled with a tired sigh. "Ah, Arroc... just tell me what you know next time."

The kobold sulked again and shifted a little farther away as Shadow turned the book over in his hands, inspecting it closely.

It was massive, even by his standards. A thick, heavy cover made of dark gray leather that almost looked like stone. Some parts felt smooth and worn, others rough like slate. It unpleasantly reminded Shadow of the cracked skin of the Ulxax, those marten-like creatures from Y'Gharash.

The upper side was reinforced with claw-like bone plates that did not merely decorate it but wrapped tightly around the book, as if holding it together by force. Without these rigid braces, the tome would likely have crumbled to dust long ago. Bony symbols adorned the cover: a stylized crescent moon and several other shapes Shadow could not immediately identify. Beneath them sat a heavy leather strap that could not be torn from its clasp, even with force, appearing almost fused to the cover itself.

"Looks promising so far. Thanks, Arry.", Shadow smiled warmly as he stood up, book in hand. "I'll try to find out whether it can help me."

He walked over to the small kobold, grasped him gently at both sides, lifted him off the floor, and pulled him into a firm hug.
"We'll fix this. I promise. And please, next time you find an ominous book lying next to one of your discoveries, tell me right away. I'm glad you at least took it with you. Otherwise I'd be completely lost right now. But leave it to me. How hard can it really be to read this thing, huh?"

Shadow pressed the tip of his snout affectionately against Arroc's before setting him back down. Exhausted but visibly relieved, Arroc sat down on the floor. As Shadow passed him, he gently stroked his head, almost unconsciously.
"Thank you, little one. Really!"

The dragon left the room, the heavy book held firmly in his paws, heading for his workspace in the library. Arroc remained behind, watching him disappear into the dimly lit corridor. For all its ominous weight, the book was safer in Shadow's grasp than anywhere else. Deep within the book's binding, a violet spark and a green one flickered briefly, but Shadow didn't notice it.



Chapter 3 - Third Sunday in Advent


After Shadow had assigned Ychie to the book to find a way to open it, several days passed without any significant progress, as the little servant barely possessed any magical knowledge. Then, completely unexpectedly, the small servant spoke up with an almost ecstatic voice.
"Shadow! Shadow!! It's open!"

Shadow took a moment to process the words. Ychie, on the other hand, was nearly bursting with excitement. Even though it had been pure chance, he had actually succeeded. The evening before, while tidying up his workspace, a single one of Shadow's scales had caught his eye, lying on the floor after having fallen from him. Thoughtlessly, he had placed it beside the book on the desk.

Overnight, however, the residual magic remaining in the scale slowly separated itself, thick and persistent, like an almost invisible mist. It was strong enough to attack the rusted lock of the book and completely break it down. The dark magic had corroded the metal from the inside until it finally cracked, flaked, and crumbled silently.

Shadow hurried to the library to see for himself. Barely had he glanced at the opened book before he nodded in approval.
"Whatever you did... respect."

The dragon flipped a few pages, but his interest quickly faded. The pages were covered in strange characters, tangled symbols, and fragments that made no sense at all. Nothing resembled any script he knew. After a few minutes, he closed the book again and shrugged indifferently.

"If you managed to open it, you can probably handle the rest too.", he said casually, patting him on the shoulder.
"I'm counting on you, Ychie. Don't disappoint me!"

Ychie stared at him in disbelief. Shadow knew full well that his magical knowledge barely went beyond the absolute minimum and that, if anything, he could only draw upon his master's magic. Yet the dragon seemed unconcerned.

Ychie watched him walk back to the throne hall, renewed in courage and visibly relieved that at least some progress had been made, almost prancing with pride. Behind him remained only the small servant, shoulders slowly sinking as he gazed despairingly at the mysterious book.

In the following days, the loyal Sergal servant attempted to decipher the book in every way imaginable. With hardly any sleep and virtually no breaks - aside from the one nightly pause to give his master a paw massage - he worked tirelessly, day and night, on the pages.

Yet without success.


Shadow checked in nearly every hour, asking if there had been any progress. With each inquiry, Ychie grew more nervous, stressed, and exhausted. He spent almost the entire week trying to force the texts to yield their meaning, combining characters, drawing lines between symbols, jotting down guesses - all while Shadow maintained relentless pressure.

By Sunday, even Shadow had enough.

A full week had passed since they had the book in hand - and in that time, they hadn't managed anything beyond opening it. So the dragon entered the library and grumbled.
"So... you weren't able to decipher that book?", he asked with a sigh. "You disappoint me, Ychie. You had a whole week for that!"

"B-but... m-maybe I'm on the verge of a breakthrough..."

"Hand it over! The only breakthrough you're about to have is in your spine if you don't give it to me right now."  

Ychie trembled and handed him the book hastily as the dragon stomped, grumbling and growling, back to his throne to tackle the puzzle himself. Once seated on his amethyst throne, he sighed briefly and muttered to himself.

"Fine... it seems that I have to do everything by myself again... What a surprise," he said, disappointed but sarcastic.

He opened the book and leafed through it aimlessly for a while, trying repeatedly to recognize anything or to exert his magic on individual pages, or even cross-reference other books to find countermeasures for curses and ancient, forgotten spells. Nothing worked. Only now did he realize how hopeless the situation was and that the book was not easily, or perhaps even at all, decipherable.

After some time, he leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling. The two candles on his horns still burned, and the book had revealed no clue whatsoever. Shadow questioned every single life decision he had ever made, sighing and shaking his head slowly.

Would he ever get rid of these rings, or was he doomed to walk around forever with this cursed holiday decoration? He should've told Arroc from the start that he wouldn't get involved in something like this. Yet his inability to resist the little creature's adorable nature - and especially that damned puppy-dog look - had taken that option from him.

The dragon pressed his hands to his face and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, desperately considering what else he could do.

Ychie, his loyal servant, whom he had saved from certain death in Y'Gharash some time ago and bound to himself with an eternal soul bond, naturally did not miss Shadow's state. Carefully, he approached, stopping a few steps away, hesitating as he observed his master.
"C-can I help somehow?", the Sergal asked quietly.

Shadow barely lifted his gaze. His voice remained calm. Too calm.
"If you've spontaneously learned to read ancient interworld script, then yes."

Ychie swallowed audibly. 
"I-I learn quickly, Master Shadow. Maybe I just overlooked something."

A short, dry laugh escaped the dragon, but there was no humor in it.
"I've been overlooking my own reflection for two weeks.", he replied with a sigh. "Believe me, you're not the problem here."

"I-I'm sorry...", Ychie muttered, ears drooping. "I just wanted to be polite."

Shadow rubbed his temples slowly. "Then be polite...", he said tiredly, "Politely quiet." His gaze flicked to the candles in the throne hall, most of which had burned down. "Or... at least make yourself useful... and light all the candles. I need to think..."  

"Aye aye, Master!", Ychie replied hastily, saluting lightly, which only made Shadow roll his eyes slightly.

The Sergal servant grabbed a torch and set to work, lighting candle after candle. Over and over, his master's words echoed in his mind: "Light all the candles." He focused solely on that, doing his best to avoid another punishment, which might not have been so gentle this time.

Though death held little threat for him, as the soul bond to his master meant that even after the worst outcome, he would simply reappear before Shadow as if nothing had happened - apart from the memories. A blessing and a curse, at least when bound to the Destroyer of Worlds. Nevertheless, Ychie owed his life to him, even if it no longer truly belonged to him.


With each additional candle, the otherwise cold amethyst throne hall grew brighter and warmer. Flickering, orange light crept over the walls, reflecting in the facets of the stone, making the room almost alive. Not long after, the Sergal had lit all visible candles. Just as he was about to return the torch to its holder, Shadow stirred again.

The dragon set the encrypted book aside, pressed his hands back over his face, and exhaled loudly in frustration.

And then Ychie saw them...
The two remaining candles on Shadow's horns.

Unwittingly, his master's words echoed again in his head: "Light all the candles."
But the command conflicted with another: Leaving him alone.  

Ychie stopped. His gaze shifted between the torch in his hand and the dragon on the throne. For a moment, he did nothing, trying to sort his thoughts. 
Candles were candles. Orders were orders.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he moved again. Afraid of doing something wrong - or worse, misinterpreting a command. Finally, he approached the desperate dragon.

Carefully, soundlessly, he drew near the throne. As cautiously as if circling a sleeping predator, he extended the torch and held it to the candle on the upper left horn.

The flame caught immediately. Warm. Orange. Alive.

Ychie held his breath and brought the torch to the last candle on the lower horn, ready to light it as well.

But nothing happened.

The wick didn't even blacken. Ychie tried again. And again. He finally moved the torch closer, longer, almost impatiently.

At that moment, Shadow felt the heat right next to his face. Slowly, he opened one eye. Then the other. His gaze flicked to the torch hovering close to his head, then to the upper, now burning candle. For a moment, he thought he was dreaming. Paralyzed, the dragon froze. Then something heavy sank in him.

No fear.
Realization...  

"No...", he whispered in disbelief. Anger flared again, and every ounce of control seemed to slip away. Reflexively, he balled a fist and delivered a resounding bonk directly to Ychie's forehead.
"This has to be a bad dream, right...?", Shadow murmured, panic-stricken, staring into the emptiness of his palace.

Ychie had just lit the third candle on his head, further disfiguring his master. He now paid for this act with a painful bump on his skull. Realizing what had happened, the Sergal swallowed nervously and watched as Shadow desperately tried to smother the flame between his fingers - hoping this non-magical fire would behave differently. Ychie yelped, clutching his head, clearly reconsidering every life choice that had led him to this exact moment.

But even this third candle relit itself over and over.

Panicked, Ychie ran with the torch and the swollen bump on his head out of the hall to fetch a goblet of water, hoping to drown the flame. On his way back, he tripped on the steps before the throne, and the full goblet flew directly toward Shadow's face. The Sergal landed hard on the floor between his master's massive paws.

Suddenly, the goblet froze in midair, surrounded by a violet magical barrier, while its contents poured over Ychie's head and the dragon's paws.

"Ouch... I-I just wanted to hel-..."

Ychie couldn't finish the sentence. Shadow's right paw pressed down on his back, pinning him to the floor and stealing his breath.

"What did you want...?", the dragon asked calmly, but with clear irritation.

"H-help...", the Sergal stammered, voice trembling and weak.

The paw pressed harder. "Since when does pouring water on my face help me?"

"I-I'm sorry, Ma-...", Ychie tried again, but his words were muffled under the pressure. Finally, Shadow lifted his paw and shoved him down the steps in front of the throne. Ychie lay there briefly, sighing from both the fall and the bump, before getting up again.

Shadow continued staring in mild disbelief, shaking his head, trying to process the chaos, while Ychie wiped himself off, though the paw print on his back remained, standing loyally, if visibly frightened, before the throne.

"I-I just wanted to-...," he muttered softly.

Shadow sighed. His eye twitched as he fixed Ychie with a look. For a moment, his mind ran over the words to comprehend what had just happened. The Sergal looked up, trembling, expecting punishment, as Shadow's expression shifted from annoyed to aggressive. This time, however, he did not snap.

"What did you want, Ychie...?" Shadow asked, almost kindly, though the aggressive undertone was clear.

"I-I lit the candles, a-as you asked, M-master.", Ychie stammered, trying to defend himself.

"These candles...!", Shadow gestured toward the throne hall, "...but not these...!" 
His gaze fell, baring teeth, on the candles on his horns. With a deep sigh, he swallowed his anger and sank his head into his hands again.
"At least you didn't light both of them...", he muttered.

"I-I couldn't-...", Ychie began, only to be cut off again as Shadow stood up, raising his voice.

"Bring me a mirror... now!"

"Y-yes, Master. I'm sorry, Master."

"Blah blah blah... less talking, more doing!", Shadow growled.

Ychie hastily searched for a reflective object and finally found a polished amethyst disc. Carefully, he approached the throne again and hesitantly handed it to the dragon. Shadow took the disc, fixed his gaze on it, and saw himself in his disfigured state. The third candle burned calmly. Indifferently. Almost mockingly, as if it had always belonged there. Four candles. Three now burning forever.

The Destroyer of Worlds now looked like a damn sacrificial altar.

"You can't be serious...", Shadow growled quietly. "See? This is exactly what happens when I don't say no for five damn minutes."
His hand clawed the amethyst disc tighter. "And you've just made it twenty-five percent worse..."

"I-I only did what you asked... And I couldn't-..."

"Shhh..." Shadow interrupted. Silence fell over the hall.

"Ychie..."
The name alone cut through the room. Shadow slowly raised his gaze. His red-flaming eyes no longer held only anger, but also something cold, ancient, and dangerous.

"One more word...", he said calmly, visibly restraining himself, "...and I'll remind you very emphatically why people fear me. Go!"

Ychie nodded hastily, wide-eyed, and left the throne hall, heading toward the library.

"And Ychie."
The Sergal froze. "Remember my nightly paw massage. In two hours."

"Y-yes, Master Shadow.", he replied softly, intimidated, before the door closed with a muted creak behind him.

Once he was gone, silence fell over the throne hall again. Only the faint crackle of the flames remained. Shadow took a deep breath. Then another. He forced his shoulders to relax and set the amethyst disc aside. If he already looked like a damn sacrificial altar, he could at least try to use that state sensibly.

Growling, he grabbed the book and pulled it closer. The pages rustled quietly as he opened it again. The characters were still foreign, jagged, contradictory. Half familiar, half nonsense. He sighed and leaned closer.

He paused. Something was different. Shadow blinked and tilted his head slightly. The runes no longer seemed as fractured as before. Where lines had previously clashed, they now seemed to interact. Overlaps that had made no sense before were coming together. Slowly, he lifted his gaze.

The violet and green candles on his horns cast their cold, magical light onto the pages. The third, now orange flame mixed in. Warm. Non-magical. Real.

Shadow lowered his gaze back to the book. His heartbeat slowed, and his eyes widened. The script was reassembling. Two layers, stacked. Magical fire and ordinary fire. Only together did they make sense.

"...This can't be...", he whispered.

He flipped pages frantically. Page after page confirmed his suspicion. Where only fragments had appeared before, full letters now stood.

Words.
Sentences.
...Recipes...?!

He blinked a few times and muttered the texts as he read more closely.
"200g butter, 100g sugar... chill dough for 30 minutes... bake on a tray at 180 degrees Celsius for 10-12 minutes...", Shadow frowned, trying to make sense of it. Then he opened a random page and read on.

"Butter from the Frost Elk... Light crystal powder... Essence of the Northern Lights... Twilight sugar... an egg from the Sun Dragon?!"

"Of course...", he growled. "Of course, it takes cursed rings and three damn candles on my head for this thing to be readable. And it's damn cookie recipes?!"

He leaned back, eyes still on the pages, while the flames above burned calmly. Finally, he opened the book at the front, hoping to find at least a clue about the owner or purpose. The first sentence in the cover only made him sigh in despair:

"This book is encrypted and can only be read with two different sources of light. Magical and mundane."

"Oh really...? I never would've guessed. And how the hell is one supposed to read this clue without them, you smartass?! My goodness." Shadow muttered to himself, rolling his eyes.

His eyes scanned the text until he suddenly gasped sharply. "There!", he growled, leaning closer to the page. "'Property of the Midnight Witch'. Hmm..."

He lifted his gaze from the book and let it wander across the empty throne hall, illuminated only by the faint candlelight. "I've heard that before..." he muttered.

With a dull thud, he slammed the book shut and stomped decisively toward the library door.

Ychie had heard the loud slam. He leapt up in alarm from his chair, dropping the ice pack he had pressed to his head, and was about to open the door to check on his master when Shadow swung it open forcefully. The heavy wood crashed directly into his head.

"There you are!", Shadow snapped. "I've solved the puzzle!"

"Ouch...", Ychie yelped, rubbing his skull, now sporting a second bump beside the first. "Ugh... a-and... why are the rings still on?"

"Not the whole puzzle.", Shadow growled. "Actually... none of it. The candlelight just made the runes visible. They're damn cookie recipes."

He held the book up and tapped the cover with a claw.
"But here. Right at the front. 'Property of the Midnight Witch.' Does that ring any bells?"

Ychie blinked, then began frantically searching his desk. Parchments, notes, and old scrolls flew through the air.

"Y-yes... kind of... but... I'm not sure..."

Shadow planted his hands on his hips. "Well, what is it then?"

"I-I know you mentioned the name once!", Ychie stammered, searching faster and faster. "I wrote something down... somewhere... definitely!"

Shadow sighed deeply, closed his eyes, and shook his head slowly.
"If this takes yet another week...", he said calmly, dangerously calm, with a hint of desperation in his voice, "...I'll snap you in half."




Chapter 4 - Fourth Sunday in Advent


Day in, day out, Ychie and, on occasion, Shadow searched through the library for the note the Sergal was said to have made - a clue pointing to who was behind it and where to find him or her. After half a week, Ychie came rushing in one afternoon, visibly excited, a small scrap of paper clutched in his paws.

"I found something!", Ychie, Shadow's servant, ran into the throne room beaming.
"Then hand it over," Shadow replied, his gaze already flicking impatiently over the Sergal.

"Well... it might not be much, but...", Ychie stammered, his ears flattening against his head.
Shadow tore the note from his hand and skimmed it. He stared at the writing for a moment, his tail lashing irritably across the floor.

"Riga. Laruk's enemy."


"And that is all?", Shadow snarled, his voice sharp and faintly mocking.

"I told you it wasn't mu-...", Ychie began, only to be cut off immediately.

"What am I supposed to do with this scrap of paper?", Shadow hissed, striking the armrest of his throne with his fist. "Keep searching!"

Ychie nodded hastily, shoulders slumped, while Shadow leaned back, eyes narrowed, still half angry and half frustrated.

On Friday, Shadow turned to his own records and maps. He was no longer convinced Ychie would find anything useful, so he took matters into his own claws. As he searched through old protocols, irritation simmered beneath the surface at his servant's incomplete notes. Ychie was clearly diligent, but rarely pursued the right angle.

It was not until Saturday evening that Shadow found a relevant entry in his own writings. Laruk had spoken of a presence that despised demons and dedicated itself to their downfall. Shadow cross-referenced what he could, but even by nightfall there was no real breakthrough. Ychie had long since fallen asleep, his head resting on the tabletop, utterly exhausted from the past days. Shadow spared him a brief glance, acknowledged the effort, and slightly shook his head at the Sergal's clumsiness.

His eyes settled on a thick book beneath Ychie, dampened by drool. Without thinking, Shadow pulled it free, causing the Sergal to smack face-first onto the table and jolt awake.

"M-master... it... It's not what it looks like. I... I am working hard.", Ychie blurted out at once, rubbing his forehead.

"Mhm. While being asleep?", Shadow remarked with a faint grin, sarcasm glinting in his eyes.

"I was... just resting my eyes...", Ychie hurried to explain.

"For the last six hours?", Shadow countered dryly, amusement creeping into his voice.

"I-I'm sorry. I searched for two days straight, with barely any sleep.", the Sergal murmured, trying to justify himself.

"Save your excuses for later.", Shadow replied, half serious, half mocking. Ychie let his head drop back onto the table, equally drained by exhaustion and despair, while Shadow turned his full attention to the book at last.


'Diary for Master Shadow'
February 14
1:54 PM - Throne room cleaned. Shadow has been out for about half an hour.
3:56 PM - Shadow returned, visibly in a bad mood. Brought him a tea. He casually mentioned a conversation Laruk supposedly had with some kind of witch. Sounded irritated. Did not ask further.
4:27 PM - Gave Shadow a back massage. He seemed to enjoy it a lot. He continued talking. The name "Riga" came up. Unclear whether this is a person or a place. For a moment, I thought of a city on Terra, but that did not seem fitting.
4:43 PM - While lighting the candles, Shadow spoke of midnight and a forest. I did not fully understand it, but I wrote it down.
5:23 PM - Dusted the amethysts and lit all the candles. Shadow seemed calmer, though still lost in thought. I dared to ask what was bothering him, which only annoyed him further. Something about hatred toward demons. I retreated to the kitchen and prepared the meal.
6:54 PM - Master was pleased with my cooking and even gave me a piece himself. Relief. I enjoyed the time together. If only it could be like this more often...
________________

Shadow frowned, leaned back, and crossed his arms as he looked at Ychie.
"I didn't know you kept a diary.", he said, raising a brow and tilting his head slightly.

The servant lifted his head from the table and looked at the dragon with sleepy eyes.
"Mhm... since the f-first time I accidentally a-angered you...", Ychie lowered his gaze, nervously brushing a paw along the edge of the table.

"And why did you not tell me that I spoke with Laruk about the Midnight Witch Riga some time ago?", Shadow continued, wiping a finger across the page to remove the drool. "You even soaked this page."

"I-I'm sorry... I was overwo-..." Ychie began, but was immediately cut off.

"It doesn't matter..." Shadow said. "At least I have what I need now. Thanks."

He carefully placed the book back beside the sergal, briefly patted his head, and gave a small, almost friendly nod. Then he turned and left without another word.

"T-thank you? D-did you just say thanks?", Ychie lifted his head in surprise, his ears twitching.

"Yes.", Shadow paused, crossed his arms again, and cast Ychie a fleeting glance. "Don't think I haven't noticed that you want to spend more time with me. But first, I need to deal with these...", he added, gesturing toward his horns and snorting quietly.

Ychie flushed bright red - his pastel-colored fur making it painfully obvious. He nervously tugged at a slip of paper on the table, unsure whether to take this as something good or bad. Too tired to think it through, he let his head sink back onto the tabletop and fell asleep, while Shadow turned one last time, furrowed his brow with a quiet chuckle, and left the room.

Shadow returned to the throne hall without wasting a single second. He was absolutely done with these damn candles. He grabbed the recipe book, and once again violet sparks burst from his hand, spiraling faster and faster until a portal tore open and he stepped through without hesitation.

There it was... The realm of dulled senses. Earth. He let out a quiet sigh as he crossed the threshold, hoping he could leave this planet of absolute insignificance as quickly as possible.

The portal snapped shut behind him, releasing him into a dark, fog-choked forest. He had been here a few times before, hunting souls, but otherwise he avoided this world like few others. This blue-green sphere of magicless self-importance pressed down on him like a leaden cloak, heavy and unpleasant.

The dragon moved deeper into the forest, but there was little to be found besides trees, mist, and shadows. He had no desire whatsoever to run into any of the primitive beings that infested this place. Nothing he feared, and yet exactly the kind of targets he least wanted to deal with right now, especially with this absurd Christmas decoration stuck on his horns.

"Just how deep is this damn forest...?", he muttered, his voice low and rough. "Not only did it take another freakin' week, now I get to play forester too... At least I'm here, and I have the damned book with me. Now I just have to find her..."

The further he went, the darker it became. Unnaturally dark. Shadows clung to him like veils, and a bitter doubt slowly crept in.
"This strolling through the woods really tires my patience. Where's that damn witch?! Maybe this is all complete nonsense... damn it... maybe she isn't even here..." he growled and sighed afterward, more to himself than anyone else, closing his eyes for a moment.

"Maybe I should..." he began as he opened them again, but the sentence was never finished. Blinding sunlight flooded his vision, forcing him to squint as his eyes adjusted far faster than they should have. When he finally looked around, all he managed was a confused, quiet, "Huh?!"

He was standing on a lush, gently rolling meadow beneath an almost offensively blue sky. His paws sank slightly into the grass, blades brushing against his claws. Scattered trees and low bushes dotted the landscape, and a soft breeze passed over his scales. Shadow slowly raised a brow, letting his gaze drift across the scene.

Then he noticed it. A table with a parasol and an empty chair standing in the middle of the meadow. Skepticism washed over him.
"What in my hell...? A chair? What is this supposed to be? What is this kitschy stuff?", he muttered.  

He turned again, surveying the meadow behind him, then simply sighed and shook his head, his gaze briefly lifting to the sky. At least he seemed to be in the right place.
"Show yourself!", he growled, "I have no patience for games."

A female voice suddenly spoke behind him, calm, curious, almost amused.
"That demonic presence...", she said, surprised. "Oh... you are not him. Tell me, Destroyer..." - a brief pause followed "...what do you want here?"  

Shadow turned toward the table, and there she was. A red dragoness with long, pale hair flowing in the wind. Blue eyes fixed on him, her body encased in dark armor lined with sharp spikes.
"What is scum like your kind doing here?", she said coldly. "Honestly, I expected your... friend from the underworld. But fine. In the end, you are all the same kind of vermin."

Shadow growled, bared his teeth slightly, then forced himself to exhale. He gestured toward his horns.
"What do I want...?", he asked flatly, "To get rid of these things..."

Riga studied him with a mocking smile, unimpressed but faintly surprised.
"So you found them after all... and actually put them on?"

"Not me. Someone else found them.", Shadow explained, giving a small shrug. "Not important. I wanted to do him a favor, put the rings on, inserted the candles, lit them one by one - and since then they won't come off. For over three damn weeks now..."

Riga turned her gaze away from him in disdain.
"Fitting for demon scum like you. Your kind will drown in curiosity eventually... and now I am supposed to take them off for you?", her smile lingered, light and cruel.

"Half-demon, if you please..." Shadow rolled his eyes. "It is not like I ever had a choice in that. But yes. That is exactly what you are going to do. Or there will be consequences!"

She hesitated for a moment, then shook her head.
"I could... but not for your kind. They suit you. Add a bit of color to your bleak destroyer existence."

Shadow snorted loudly, his patience clearly at its limit.
"...Are you going to do it anyway? I found your goddamn christmas-recipe-book. That is what led me here. So? I'll grant you the privilege to do so. Immediately."

Her lips twitched briefly, a mocking glint in her eyes.
"So you managed to decipher it."

"Yes..." Shadow growled, sighed, and gestured toward the book. "And do you know what is in it? Cookie recipes. Absurd, magical cookie recipes. I already found that insulting while reading it. And by the way... if you leave a hint saying it can only be read with two different light sources, maybe write it in a way that can actually be read without prior enlightenment."

She examined him more openly now, her gaze sliding slowly over his horns and back to his face.
"I also just found that waste-of-a-time book. And? What exactly do you expect from me? That I help you?"

"Everything points to you, Riga." Shadow lifted the book slightly, as if about to shove it under her nose.
"So stop playing dumb. Yes, I am hoping for it. And I do not have all day."

"Ah." A thin smile crossed her lips. "Busy, Mr. World-Destroyer?"
The mockery in her voice was unmistakable.

"Busy enough not to sit in a meadow at a table drinking tea all day. You clearly seem to know me, so you know that I'll take your entire lifetime to force you to get rid of those things..." He made a brief, dismissive gesture before clenching a fist. "So stop dancing around the issue. Are you going to help me, or do I have to make you?"

"I will never help demons." Her voice grew noticeably colder. "I made that very clear to Laruk."

"As I said, still a half-demon. Against my will." Shadow snorted softly. "What is it you actually have against us?"

"That's none of my business." She rose slowly from her chair.
"What I have against you? Simple. Like every other demon, you use your powers without ever truly thinking about it. There is a reason you have so many nicknames." Her gaze hardened, drilling into him. "Don't think that I am unaware of your particular abilities. To me, you are nothing but filth."

Shadow shrugged, a dry huff escaping him.
"Then you are probably just jealous that we get to live carefree, unburdened lives in our own worlds, while you retreat into this... simulated illusion." His gaze drifted briefly across the meadow before returning to her with open disgust. "...Bound to a magically dead dust ball called Earth."

Shadow paused. A wide grin spread across his lips, and his voice dropped into a mocking tone.
"No wonder your ex-boyfriend had no patience left for any of this. Especially not for a raging harpy like you. Instead, he is probably lounging comfortably on some jagged rocks in the Underworld now, rather than having to deal with you any longer. I am starting to understand why..."

Riga froze. Her mouth hung open for a moment, one eye twitching as a blush crept across her face. The cool, detached look shattered, twisting into raw, burning anger.

"Did I just hit a sore spot, Miss Demon-Hater? Oops...~" 
Shadow grinned crookedly and raised his claws in a mock apology.
"But seriously: how is your personal revenge story supposed to help us right now? I am not moving an inch until this is settled."

"I... couldn't care less.", she replied, straightening up, her chin lifted in cold defiance.
"I won't help your kind."

"Not even if I ask nicely?", Shadow asked, a cheeky grin on his face.

"Especially not then.", Riga answered coldly, without hesitation.

"Fantastic..." Shadow growled. "Then I suppose I will be keeping you company forever. Or rather, you will be keeping me company. Because I am certainly not staying here."
A cruel grin spread across his face as he shrugged.
"Maybe you can take over some of Ychie's work, my servant. At least as long as you keep your mouth shut. Your voice is already getting on my nerves. Better prepare yourself for my mood swings."
His gaze sharpened further.
"And don't even dare to think that I know nothing about you. Laruk has told me more than enough to torment you with for all eternity. And I will use it against you if I have to."

Riga did not flinch. "I also have no problem simply sending you back to the forest."

"And I have no problem finding you again and again.", Shadow replied calmly. "Believe me. Nothing could be easier for me."
He stepped half a pace closer, applying pressure. "I have my ways, and I seriously doubt your soul is protected well enough for me not to bind it to myself right here, until I get what I want." He let out an amused snort.
"I can't walk around like this forever..."

"Pfff. If it were up to me, you could.", she said, her gaze sliding over him with open disdain, cool and visibly sulking.

"You are really not making this any easier for yourself...", Shadow said flatly.
"Take the rings off, and I will be gone faster than I arrived. You will never see me again. You have my demonic word of honor." He leaned forward slightly.
"You could have spared yourself all of these comments. And don't think that I won't tell Laruk about that outraged look on your face."
His voice suddenly dropped into something dangerous, his eyes flaring once more.
"But no tricks. Otherwise, your precious little world will be reduced to burning rubble within minutes. And the whole rest of the Earth along with it."  

A moment passed.
Then Riga sighed quietly.

"Fine..."
She raised a claw and stepped closer.
"No tricks. But don't get too excited about receiving my help."

Shadow pulled his mouth into a crooked, almost relieved grin.
"Don't worry. I have more pressing matters to attend to. Just do it."

"Close your eyes and stay still.", the dragoness ordered.

He obeyed, closed his eyes, and slowly exhaled. Riga grimaced in disgust as she swallowed her aversion to approaching a demonic entity and enveloped one finger in an icy blue flame. Slowly, she guided it toward the wick of the final candle.

The flame ignited.

"You're welcome.", the witch said, a faint smile on her lips.

In the same moment, a new, unfamiliar warmth spread along Shadow's lower right horn. His face twisted, his eyes flew open, and they ignited with fury.  

"What... is... this?!", his voice remained controlled, but the facade cracked rapidly. "You were supposed to remove them, not light another damn candle and torture me even more!"

He lunged for her, but Riga slipped away effortlessly. His eyes burned brighter than before, heat shimmering around his face. It was only a matter of time before he exploded.

"Just wait until I get my claws on you.", he hissed. "Then your final hour will strike. And that of your miserable world along with it!"
His voice trembled with rage. "You treacherous witch! I will find you. Even if it is the last thing I ever do!"

"Calm yourself, demon.", she replied, her voice surprisingly steady, though edged sharper than before. Even so, she cautiously retreated a few steps.

"Half... demon!", he growled in a deep voice.

Riga merely rolled her eyes at his correction. "This impatience... just give it a second..."

"Wait?! For what? So you can vanish?", the dragon snarled. "If this is one of your stupid tricks, I will tear you apart with my own claws and enslave your sou-..."

The glow in his eyes flickered. He raised a claw, ready to continue his threats, but his words died mid-sentence.

A metallic clatter.
The rings came loose.

As they slid from his horns, all four candles went out at once. The golden rings fell, clinking against the ground directly in front of his paws.

Shadow froze, mouth hanging open.
The fury in his gaze shifted into pure confusion.

For the moment, he was completely speechless.
  


Chapter 5 - The time of gift-giving?

When Shadow had regained his composure and realized that the candles and rings had truly disappeared, he needed a moment to collect his thoughts. His hands wandered in disbelief over his horns, where the metal rings and candles had been firmly attached for weeks.  

"They... they're gone!", he finally exclaimed. His eyes began to shine with joy, and for the first time in four weeks, a genuine, self-satisfied smile spread across his face.
"Me! Me alone, did it again!", he boasted loudly. "Of course I did! It's me I'm talking about!. Only the one true Destroyer of Worlds could pull this off!"
He tapped his chest proudly and grinned broadly.

As his gaze fell again on the rings lying on the ground, something unexpected happened. The metal began to shimmer, slowly dissolving into a fine, sparkling magical mist, until it completely vanished. Nothing remained.

Shadow raised an eyebrow and glanced skeptically at Riga, whose face looked tense, almost worried. Behind him, a portal suddenly began to form. Violet-blue energies swirled in the air, coalescing with a loud, hissing sound.

As soon as it took shape, a powerful pull began. Shadow spun around in surprise, bracing himself instinctively, but the ground beneath his paws gave way. The magic tugged at him, at first hesitantly, then unstoppable.  

"Whyyy?!", he howled, already halfway sucked into the portal, only his head still sticking out.
"You damn witch! I knew you couldn't work without a foul tric-..."
His words cut off abruptly as the interdimensional space swallowed him whole.

Riga remained motionless, watching the demon vanish into the pull. Only when the portal closed and the meadow lay still once more did she exhale audibly.

"Right on time.", she murmured. Yet her gaze remained serious.
"Though I know what will happen next...", she added quietly, shaking her head. "I messed up. I messed up really bad this time..."


On the other side, Shadow was unceremoniously flung out of the portal. He hit the ground hard, but a thick layer of snow broke his fall. The portal behind him sealed immediately, leaving him in this new, unfamiliar world.

"Urgh..." he groaned, lying still. "I'm getting too old for this crap."

It took a few seconds before he registered the cold creeping through his scales, the snow softly falling onto him. The surroundings were unnaturally quiet, as if the snow had swallowed every sound and buried it beneath itself.

Before opening his eyes, he sighed again.
"What is it now...?", he muttered, exhausted.

With half-lidded eyes, he scanned his surroundings and froze. Before him rose a colossal Christmas tree, festively decorated with colorful lights, garlands, and tinsel. At its top shone a blindingly bright star. Snow-covered forests stretched as far as the eye could see, and among the trees, gingerbread-style houses radiated the sweet scent of cinnamon and roasted almonds, filling the air.  

Shadow opened his eyes fully. The longer he looked, the faster astonishment turned to raw fury.

"You-...", he started, then stopped.
"This-...", he faltered again.
"THIS-...!!", he finally roared.
"ENOUGH!! THIS SEALS IT!!!"  

His growl echoed through the snowy landscape. As the echo faded, he forced himself to calm down slightly, exhaling through his nostrils, and rose to his full height.

Only now did he notice the presents.

Several brightly wrapped packages lay beneath the tree. With each heavy step, Shadow stomped toward them. The snow crunched loudly under his massive paws, leaving deep, furious impressions.


"What is this?!", he growled. "I knew from the start that that damned witch was up to something..."

The gifts shimmered, almost as if demanding his attention. Each had a small tag numbered from one to seven and one of his nicknames. Above them, wedged between the pine needles, hung a golden envelope.

Shadow reached for it, slicing it open with a precise claw movement, and drew out the letter. Then he began to read.

"Dear Shadowcloud,
Welcome to the Christmas Dimension!
As a reward for enduring the past four weeks, you may now open these seven gifts.

Sincerely,
Santa Claus"


Shadow frowned and shrugged, tossing the letter into the snow beside him.
"Mmhh, sure... if you say so..."



Despite his sour mood, he picked up the first gift and read the tag:

"1 – For Shadowcloud."

He shook the package. Nothing. No rustle, no clink, not even a dull weight. With one claw, he tore the ribbon and ripped the wrapping paper open in a fit of irritation. The paper was thick, faintly glittering, and smelled lightly of pine needles and vanilla, but Shadow barely gave it a thought.

In a way, it was kind of nice here. He had always liked snow, even if he was no fan of Christmas. The lights, the sweet warmth in the air, and the fact that these seven gifts were obviously meant for him alone made his eyes sparkle for a brief moment. Almost - just almost - he felt a hint of holiday cheer.

"Maybe all of this has some deeper purpose...", he thought as he shredded the paper, "Maybe someone really did plan this from the start, just to surprise me..."

Still, skepticism lingered. His eyes narrowed as he glanced around, as if expecting to be watched, and a low growl threatened to escape.

Inside the box, a kitschy pastel-blue plush dragon stared back at him. The toy was soft, almost fluffy, with faintly shimmering threads that caught the light. Its button eyes were oversized, its wings far too small, its mouth curved into an innocent, friendly grin.

A brief smile flickered across Shadow's face. Somewhere, it was undeniably cute, even if it wasn't his style. The gesture itself was almost sweet. But at the same time, he felt insulted, as this little thing completely misrepresented him

"As if I were some... cuddly toy...", he muttered, setting the plush dragon back in the box and aside.



He moved on to the second gift. The tag read:

"2 – For the Destroyer."

He tore off the ribbon and paper, opened the box, and found a book wrapped in silk. The cover was matte, in calming natural tones, decorated with a stylized circle of leaves and stones.

As he read the title, his rage flared:
"Finding Mindfulness and Inner Balance - Meditations for troubled minds"

"Is this some kind of joke...?", he muttered, flipping roughly through the pages. Gentle illustrations, soothing fonts, paragraphs full of well-meaning but intolerable advice. Phrases like "Breathing Exercises for Aggression", "Self-Help for Mood Swings", and "Accept What You Cannot Change" jumped out at him.

The more he read, the more his hands trembled with fury.

"I'll show you my damn inner balance...", he growled, snapping the book shut and hurling it into the snow.



Without pause, he reached for the third gift.

"3 – For the sweet Demon."

As he took it into his claws, it rattled. Warily, he opened it and pulled out a finely carved wooden music box, adorned with stars and snowflakes, a tiny Christmas tree on the lid. The moment he moved it, a tinny, cheerful melody began to play:
"All I Want for Christmas Is You" by Mariah Carey.

Shadow growled deeply. Any initial spark of joy had vanished. He hated this song. Just the thought of it echoing in his head for weeks made his teeth grind.

He flung the music box onto the snow, but it kept playing. Growling, Shadow slammed his paw down on it with full force. The wood splintered, the gears broke, and the melody finally died in a last, scratching note. He stomped on it once more - just to be sure.

Finally, silence. 



He exhaled, relieved, and reached for gift number four.

"4 – For the stompy Dragon."

This one was silent again when shaken. As he removed the ribbon and paper, he realized he had been humming along. Shadow fell silent, irritation giving way to something uncomfortably close to embarrassment.

Inside the box lay two tiny socks. Red and white striped, embroidered with little reindeer, soft and fluffy. They were laughably small - too tiny even for a single toe. Another joke, then. Another reminder that no one here seemed to take him seriously.

He stared at them for a moment, growled, and tossed them beside the crushed music box - or what remained of it. Then he sighed and shook his head. Slowly, the suspicion crept in that this whole affair wasn't as clever or carefully orchestrated as he had first assumed. 



"5 – 'Destroyer of Worlds'"

Just the quotation marks made him frown already. He tore open the gift and held a snow globe in his claws. Inside, a tiny black quadrupedal dragon with red eyes stood in a miniature Christmas village, adorned with a Santa hat, baubles, and tinsel, smiling cheerfully as artificial snow fell around it.

Somewhere in the tiny figure, Shadow saw himself. Almost - too much so - except for the missing violet accents.

Rage surged through him yet again. The mighty Destroyer of Worlds, reduced to a harmless Christmas figurine. He trembled with fury, but as he caught his own reflection in the glass, he drew a sharp breath and set the globe aside without a word.

A small part of him tried to convince himself that the last two gifts might redeem this, that maybe someone finally understood who he truly was. But on the other hand, he was close to losing hope entirely - clearly, no one here had any idea who they were dealing with.



Gift number six.

"6 – For the black and violet Devil"

Shadow raised an eyebrow skeptically. Either they had finally realized who they were dealing with and were trying to flatter him, or it was just another cheap attempt to provoke him further. With a sharp tug, he tore the ribbon, ripped away the paper, and began revealing the contents.

At first, there was only packing material. Layer after layer he pulled out crumpled paper and sparkling filler strips. A low, irritated growl escaped his throat as his claws impatiently combed through the box.

At the very bottom, almost deliberately placed: a mirror. No larger than his forearm, with a gold-colored plastic handle, perfectly smooth. He held it up at an angle before finally rotating it fully. His reflection stared back. His fragile hope cracked almost immediately.

On the mirror's surface, four candles were painted: violet, green, red, and ice blue. Exactly positioned over his horns. His claws clenched around the handle, muscles in his jaw tensed, nostrils flared, and a low, dangerous growl rose in his chest.

Then he noticed an etched message:
"The hardest part of the past four weeks: Your reflection."

His breath caught. A shiver ran through him. His eyes glowed brightly, dark energy flickering around the mirror.
"What gives you the right... to insult me like this?"

Before he could even release the handle, the mirror shattered from the sheer force of his aura. Thousands of pieces fell like sparkling snow to the ground, and the handle snapped under the pressure of his hand. Shadow let the shards drop, shook his paw briefly as if to cleanse it from the touch, and stepped back.

His gaze was cold. The last remnants of holiday cheer were gone.



Yet, he turned to the final gift. Number seven.

"7 – For the Evil Demon"

It was a heavier, though slightly smaller package. The moment he lifted it, it pulled against his hand. When he shook it, a dull, raw sound came from within. No clinking, no rustling. Only dead weight.

Just reading the tag drew a deep growl from his throat. Lips curled, claws tensed. With one yank, the ribbon and paper lay shredded in the snow. Shadow wanted to know what else they could possibly throw at him.

He plunged his fingers in and grasped something cold, rough, angular. A fist-sized lump of coal. Black, matte, dusty. Attached to a rough string was one last note:

"Maybe next year you'll be better behaved and more patient.
Less destruction = better presents."

Shadow read the sentence exactly once. 

He closed his eyes, tightening his grip on the coal. His claws dug in with a grinding crunch, fine black dust fell between his fingers. His heartbeat quickened, each breath deeper, heavier, harsher. For a moment he struggled against the rising fury - but it surged unstoppable.

These were no longer jokes. These were judgments. The past four weeks had been a test. And now he stood here, belittled, treated like a misbehaving child. Not like what he was: a superior, half-demonic being who had made entire worlds vanish.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. His gaze fixed on the enormous Christmas tree. The ornaments reflected dim light in his pupils. Then a bright, aggressive red pulsed - his demonic half taking control.

He stared. Snorted. Snuffed. Then silence. Yet his eyes burned brighter than ever.
"Next year?!", he growled softly, then his voice rose to a thunderous roar. "There will be no damn next year!"

His grin was full of hatred. "If this is your festivity, then it deserves to burn!"

The coal in his claw glowed violet. Pulsating veins ran through the blackness; heat and magic condensed until flames leapt from it. The fire reflected in his glaring red eyes, then the coal crumbled to ash and fell into the snow.

"I have endured this for four weeks...", he growled, voice trembling with suppressed rage.
"Now, you will endure me!"

And at that moment, his decision was made.
Not impulsive. Not blind.

Deliberate.

His eyes blazed like an entire world on fire. With a sudden motion, he raised his arms, hands glowing a threatening violet, the air quivering around him. The Christmas tree caught fire. Precisely. Controlled. Flames crawled up the trunk, devoured branches, baubles, tinsel, and the gifts beneath. The sweet scent of cinnamon and sugar merged with the acrid smoke.

Then he clenched his fists. The sky darkened. Violet lightning streaked through the forests, trees exploded, gingerbread houses burned, their icing sizzling down the walls.

"This world will learn to take me seriously!", he roared. "I'll tear everything apart!!"

A massive vortex of magic, storm, and glowing clouds formed above him. Winds whipped, temperatures flipped. The crisp winter cold turned into scorching heat. Snow literally vaporized, everything flammable ignited - except the box containing the plush dragon, which remained completely untouched.

Shadow laughed - loud, insane, triumphant - as hell on Earth was unleashed. Christmas bells warped, decorations melted, ash rained from the sky. He wanted to annihilate everything: this world, this holiday, every damn memory of it. A blazing inferno would consume Christmas - and end it forever.

After minutes of concentrated destruction, he exhaled heavily. His body trembled, breaths coming in deep, forceful bursts, a wide grin stretching across his face. He had done it.

He reached for the slightly scorched box with the plush dragon and nonchalantly opened a portal, its violet edges flickering. Once more, he turned.

"Thank you for this wonderful lesson...", he said mockingly, free from any guilt.
"I hope it burns into your minds. Merry... 'Christmas'. May my eternal heat follow you long after.~"

Then he stepped through, while the world behind him burned down to nothingness relentlessly.
  


In the throne room, Ychie stood frozen, still holding his broom. The air seemed to halt as the portal tore through reality. His gaze fixed on the violet-glowing rift, his mouth agape, unable to produce a sound as he saw Shadow emerge.

The red, blazing eyes.
The cruel grin.
The raging inferno.
Horns free, unbound, no candles, no restraints.

Ychie's knees gave way. The broom slipped from his paws. Deeply bowed, he remained motionless as Shadow stepped through the portal. Heat and ash poured into the hall, the scent of burned magic thick in the air, flames casting dancing shadows on the walls.
Ychie inched closer, bowing ever deeper, reverently. Over and over, until he finally grasped Shadow's massive paws and pressed his trembling lips to them.

"M-master...!", he stammered. "Y-you... you did it!"
Another kiss followed. "A-and you held the guilty accountable..."

He cautiously peered through the portal. Scorching heat hit him, ash fell like snow over a dying world.

"Indeed.", Shadow said, calm, confident, and filled with satisfaction. "At least someone recognizes what it means to kneel before me. As it should be."

Ychie lowered his head even further.
"I-I never doubted you for a moment...", he whispered. "Y-your power is absolute. Untouchable."
He now kissed Shadow's toes as well, reverently, gratefully.

"This world out there has now understood that truth as well...", Shadow continued, brushing ash from his shoulders. Behind him, the inferno raged on like a monument to his deed.

Ychie barely dared to look up.
"T-then... the guilty... w-were punished?", he asked quietly as another wave of hot air rolled through the hall from the portal.

Shadow snorted, amused, already turning away.
"Punished? No. They were corrected. Permanently."
A broad grin spread across his face. "One less annoying holiday. And far less distraction."

With heavy, unquestioned authority, he lowered himself onto his amethyst throne, setting the box with the plush dragon beside him.
"That means you have more time now, Ychie,", he continued, eyes half-closed, his massive paws resting on a stool before him, present and commanding. "More time to focus on what truly matters."

Ychie froze for a heartbeat. Then he knelt lower than ever before.
"O-of course, Master!", he said without hesitation. "My time, my service, and my will belong to you. Now more than ever."

Shadow leaned back, gazing at the burning inferno in the open portal like a massive fireplace. The residual heat of the portal still made his soles glow faintly, as Ychie lowered himself before them and began to reverently and thoroughly clean ash and soot from Shadow's paws - a silent ritual of devotion and reward for a job magnificently done.




Epilogue - New Year's Eve


The table before Shadow and Arroc was lavishly set. Bowls of steaming food sat close together, glass decanters scattered between them, and sweet pastries still carried the scent of cinnamon and warm vanilla. Above it all flickered the gentle glow of candles - ordinary candles. No runes. No curses. Just warm light.

Outside, that peculiar stillness had already gathered - the kind that exists only in the minutes before midnight on New Year's Eve. The world seemed to hold its breath.

Arroc leaned back, letting his gaze wander briefly over the table before studying Shadow thoughtfully. Finally, he raised his eyebrows.
"Uhm... Shadow?", he began cautiously, almost casually, "...h-how did you get rid of the candles, anyway?"

Shadow paused. He chewed for a moment, swallowed the last bite, and looked at Arroc as if he needed to decide where to begin.
"Well...", he started slowly, running his tongue along his teeth, "After Laruk lit the second candle, Ychie accidentally lit the third one a week later."

Arroc blinked and tilted his head.
"Accidentally?"

Shadow shrugged slightly. "He wanted to help. So I told him to light all the candles here. He... took that a little too literally.", he chuckled softly, then his voice grew calmer.
"And by sheer coincidence, the book you gave me became readable due to that. Before that, it was just scribbles. But the non-magical flame of Ychie's torch completed the symbols."

"And what did it say?"

"Nothing useful. Just some weird cookie recipes... But at the front of the cover, it mentioned the Midnight Witch on Terra. So I didn't waste any time."

"Terra?", Arroc asked immediately, "The human world..?"

Shadow nodded. "Exactly. I wandered through the forests, accidentally entered their semblance of a world, and finally persuaded her to help me. She agreed, reluctantly." He let out a short, dry snort. "She only lit the fourth candle."
He paused, then smiled faintly.
"And then... they just went out and fell off. No warning."

Arroc's eyes sparkled.
"Wooow! So four flames from four different worlds?"

"Seems like it.", Shadow confirmed, "But that wasn't the end."

He grabbed a napkin, cleaned his snout, and continued.
"Shortly after, I was pulled through a portal against my will... and ended up in the Christmas Dimension."

Arroc audibly inhaled. "The Christmas Dimension..?"

"Snow. Lights. Decorations. A Christmas tree. And presents!", Shadow explained.

"That... sounds beautiful...", Arroc whispered.

Shadow made a slight grimace. "Mhm... maybe it would've been."

"What do you mean?"

Shadow's gaze slid to the clock. Just shortly before midnight.
"Well... at first, I was actually pleased.", he said quietly, "I thought my endurance had paid off, and I almost felt... real Christmas spirit. But with every gift I opened, it became clear that no one took me seriously."
His voice deepened.
"I was treated like a naughty child. Not for what I really am."

Suddenly, the gong sounded. Outside, magical fireworks whistled and exploded. The new year began. Shadow, however, continued speaking as if the moment existed only at the edge of his awareness.

"I am not a mascot.", he said firmly, "I am an omnipotent, half-demonic being capable of making anything imaginable real. And eventually... my demonic side took over."

He looked straight ahead, past Ychie, who was behind Arroc, arms outstretched and shaking his head violently in an attempt to stop him and prevent him from saying too much. Yet Shadow did not notice.

"So I turned the Christmas Dimension into a violet inferno.", he said calmly and bluntly, as if describing something entirely natural. "Not out of rage. But deliberately. Thoroughly."

His voice gained depth, weight.
"The tree was just the beginning. That ridiculous icon. I let it burn, slowly, controlled, until every bauble melted and the tinsel ran like molten gold. The gifts went next. Paper, ribbons, false hope. Everything. From there, I expanded it. Forests. Villages. Those gingerbread houses, as sweet as sugar, their icing roofs, their sugar windows. They all melted, warped, collapsed under my violet fire. The snow evaporated before it even touched the ground. It no longer snowed. It rained ash."

He lifted his chin slightly.
"The sky tore open. Magical violet lightning, twisted clouds, immense heat. I didn't destroy this world. I corrected it. Permanently."

A narrow, self-satisfied smile.
"No more candles. No artifacts. No cursed symbols to humiliate or break anyone. Nothing that would let someone think they could judge, test, or teach me again."

His eyes glowed faintly.
"Now they know: You don't mess with me. And anything that burned there... it will never harm anyone again."

Shadow lifted his head proudly, closed his eyes, and smiled contentedly. Almost as if he expected praise or approval. Ychie only covered his face with his paw, shaking his head.

Silence.

Then the little kobold began to tremble.
"You... did... what...?"
His voice broke and tears started immediately streaming down his cheeks.

Shadow's eyes flew open in shock. Only now did he realize what he had said.
"Aww... no, no... kiddo..."

He rose hastily, stepped to Arroc, and pulled him into a tight embrace. "Sorry...", he sighed softly, "Not for the world. I honestly don't miss it at all obviously."
A brief breath, then he continued gently.
"But I didn't mean to spit it in your face like that."

Arroc wept uncontrollably. Not for the lost world. But because he thought he had driven Shadow to this point. 
"I pushed you to this...", Arroc whispered, voice breaking. "If I had never asked to visit you in the first place..."

"It's not your fault, Arry.", Shadow said quietly, stroking his head. "We can still celebrate Christmas together, whether the Christmas Dimension exists or not. Just how you like it. No stress. And no cursed decorations."
A short chuckle, then he paused. Arroc still sobbed bitterly.

"Wait..."

Shadow reached under one of the chairs, pulled out the charred package, opened it, and lifted out the pastel-blue, fluffy plush dragon.

"The last remnant of the destroyed Christmas Dimension.", he said gently. "For you!"

Arroc looked at Shadow first, then at the plush in his hands. For a moment, he seemed uncertain, as if he didn't know what he was allowed to feel. Then he pressed the plush dragon tightly against his chest, as if he would lose it otherwise. A soft sob escaped him, though this time mixed with a tentative smile.

Shadow stayed simply with him. No words, no display of power. Just his arms, calm and steady around him, while outside, the new year began with light and noise.

Magical fireworks reflected in the windows, somewhere a pop, elsewhere voices cheering. But here, inside the dragon's palace, none of that mattered. Just warmth, quiet breathing, and the comfort of not being alone.


Two friends...

And a small piece of Christmas that even the World-Destroyer had deemed worthy to survive.




-- The End --


By Shadowcloud