Armando Lazzari - Nikolaos The Man Of Dreams ...and The Legend Of Santa Claus

The little one promptly obeyed, curled up as much as he could behind the red robe of the Bishop, closing his eyes with his hands, endlessly repeating all the scaramanic words he knew and forging new ones for the occasion.

While the knights proceeded in their frantic and incessant race, Nicholas counted the steps that separated them and prepared himself for the action that would save them or condemn them to a horrible end. Now it was possible to distinguish the features of their faces which, no matter how smoky, clearly expressed the evil that permeated everything in those lands. Mocking them with skeletal snickers, they already tasted the carnage they longed for. In their greed, they waved their brown weapons in the air, shaking them on the scarlet effigies imprinted on the shields and spurring the infernal mounts to accelerate the pace, while the man, with his impassive gaze, did not give in one step to the instinct of escape that would have won anyone else.

Then the right moment came. Nicholas lifted the stick in the air, whispered sacred invocations and vehemently thrust it into the ground. The earth trembled creating cracks that were lost on the horizon and a thunderous roar overcame every noise, while a dazzling light, radiating in the air, overwhelmed and swept away every rider, dissolving him in the ether like ashes dispersed by a storm.

Only man knew how long it lasted, because the leprechaun, enclosed in his imaginary isolation bubble, did not even respond to the various confirmations of ceased danger, forcing his protector to extreme measures. With immense satisfaction, he kicked the goblin's ass well placed, making him tumble until his head hit a stone placed between two boulders.

"Point! We should spread this game: leprechaun-ball!" the Bishop exulted sarcastically.

Pétros, apart from a few heartfelt complaints, was relieved that the man's plan had been successful. Having cleared themselves of dust, they set off again.

"Do you think we will run into other knights like those?"

"Certainly not black sentinels, but rest assured that we will encounter far worse creatures."

The answer was not the most reassuring.

The path ended in a narrow gorge that in case of danger would not have left to elusive actions. This worried Pétros.

"Uhm...I don't like it...I don't like it at all..."

"This time I fully agree, but we have no alternative, the only thing we can do is to hurry up and get out of here".

The words started a rumble behind them that was growing in intensity.

"It would seem like a kind of herd gone mad!"

"Run! Run! Whatever it is will soon overwhelm us if we don't manage to get out of here!"

The two of them began to run as much as possible in the hope of seeing the end of the deadly pass, turning from time to time to peek at the situation, but apart from the incessant noise, they were unable to see the appearance of the looming danger.

Only when their legs began to shake and their breath began to break, did they notice that their surroundings were changing. The high walls of the gorge, previously really close together, had now distanced themselves, allowing them to glimpse hope in an illuminated widening just a few steps away.

"Look! We are out!" said happily the Bishop.

Satisfaction was broken like an ear of corn trampled on, at the sight of the impassable cliff that presented itself before him. The deafening noise, though still far away, maintained a worrying and constantly increasing trend. The Krampus, in panic, clung to the Bishop.

"Oh mother! We are doomed! We are going to be smashed downstairs! Help me, I'm still so young to die!" he begged him.

"Take your little paws off me at once, or I'll swoop you in early!"

Nicholas began to scrutinize the surrounding environment in search of a quick solution, which he came up with a dangerously appealing idea. In the sky, croaking furiously, huge brown birds with long sharp beaks and featherless wings were circling. On the head they had a bone ridge and some hooks were coming out from the ends of the wings, while the tail, not particularly long, ended with an arrowhead bone.

The narrow slit red eyes and forked tongue of a snake gave the measure of their wickedness.

The holy man bent down to the ground and grabbed a pointed pebble, leaving the little goblin banned.

"And what would you like to achieve with that?"

"As a child I had little strength, but good aim..."

Loading the launch with the mighty arm, he evaluated the necessary time and the right trajectory to trace, then hurled the bullet towards the flock. The stone described an arc that, if in the ascent phase did not hit any target, in the fallout touched the face of a bird. It was enough to attract the attention and to unleash its warlike nature. Nicholas grabbed Pétros by the shoulders to wave him in the air like a flag. The little demon was first surprised and then, in desperation, he started kicking and screaming expletives, alternating them now against the Bishop and now against the raptor, who swooped down towards him with his mouth wide open in a single chilling scream. When the impact seemed imminent, Nicholas with a quick move through the animal to the side and knocked it down with a fist on the back. The painful beast crashed to the ground, providing an opportunity to grab and immobilize it. When the animal recovered from the momentary shock, it tried to react by struggling to catch its attacker, but the man's muscles continued to press down, preventing him from freeing himself.

Meanwhile the goblin, who watched the titanic struggle unfold, took a look at the road behind them and for the first time he could see clearly what was chasing them: a pack of enormous quadrupeds armoured with spines and equipped with terrifying horns, anxious to pierce them and then throw them into the void of the ravine.

"Whatever you have in mind, do it quickly! They're practically on top of us by now!"

In response the giant limited himself to a desperate gesture forcing with a last decisive effort the animal to surrender. The bird, exhausted, stopped fighting. When Nicholas realized he let go and relaxed his muscles a little too long contracted, enough to notice that there was no more time left.

"Hurry, hold on tight to my belt!" he shouted.

The leprechaun did not let himself repeat it and, clutching himself to the man with all his strength, closed his eyes praying for his salvation.

Nicholas gave a considerable pat to the ass of the beast, who had crouched down tame, awakening its wild nature. The reaction was immediate: the animal rose up and vibrating its huge wings, it flew free again, bringing with it, clinging to its legs, the two illegal immigrants.

The puffing herd arrived just as Nicholas and Pétros were detaching from the ground, so that the Bishop was forced to withdraw his legs in order not to be hurt by the long horns that were trying to pierce them from below. Nicholas, as if he had always been used to rule winged monsters and knew all their secrets, directed the beast to the other side of the ravine, tugging now one leg to turn.

The leprechaun, already anxious about the precarious position, became even more concerned when he met the other birds of the group, visibly annoyed.

"Ouch! Watch out for those! I wouldn't want them to think of us as unexpected snacks!"

In fact, the beasts, as they approached, tried to catch them several times, each time missing the target by a whisker.

Fortunately, Nicholas' improvised skills proved to be valid to avoid the more enterprising birds, while to discourage the more insistent ones, he had to resort to decisive kicks on the muzzles.

When they landed safely on the opposite side, Pétros staggered several steps before regaining his balance.

"We did it! Unbelievable!"

"I had no doubts as to the plan, I had more doubts as to whether or not I was going to let you devour yourself...you've done well, go on..."