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

The boys, recognizing the face of their Bishop, rushed to him in search of help. As soon as he saw them, he hugged them tightly and wrapped them with his cloak to protect them.

Pelznickel, blinded by fury, took on the demonic form of an enormous cuttlefish and with his tentacles he firmly grabbed Pétros, who had tricked him.

"Damn you traitor! You have condemned yourself to the worst of ends, you will suffer the torments of Hell for all eternity!"

"I will be no longer a slave to anyone, better dead than a servant!"

The tentacles lifted him up into the air with the intention of throwing him into the black hole.

Nicholas decided first of all to bring the boys to safety, he held them tight and closed his eyes and disappeared with them.

When he opened them again, he found himself in his bed with the three boys who, although stunned, were safe and finally conscious.

The parents burst into tears of joy as they saw their healthy children again and began to bless incessantly the Bishop who had brought them back among them.

"Feed the children, I still have a score to settle."

Lying down again, he focused, his eyes revolved once again and his mind was once again in the world of dreams. When he appeared there he was right in front of the demon while he was still holding Pétros in his coils. Without thinking twice, he stabbed the monster's stomach, pushing the crosier as deeply as possible. The demon cried out in excruciating pain, releasing his grip. Pétros thus found himself plunging into the void in the direction of the infernal abyss, heading towards a terrible destiny. But just when he saw himself doomed, he felt himself grasped and dragged away from danger: Nicholas had managed to catch him literally on the fly and get him to safety. The rescue action, however, gave the wounded demon time to escape.

The two of them rested in the snow and looked at each other in silence for a few moments.

"Thank you for coming back to save me...boss."

"Well, boss, it's already better, and in any case I would never have abandoned a friend..."

They laughed and helped each other get back on their feet.

"So, when are you thinking of finally getting us out of here?"

Nicholas turned thoughtfully towards the beasts.

"In a moment...I was thinking about these splendid animals...they look like fallow deer, but they have something different...they are decidedly larger, and the colour of their coat is different: thicker and without spots, apart from the strange lightning-shaped mark on their foreheads...they give me the idea that they don't belong to this world, or at least not entirely...they too seem to have been kidnapped and brought here against their will.

"You're right, some of them are undoubtedly females, but they still have horns! And now that you make me think about it, the beings encountered so far all had something diabolical and in any case anomalous about them, while they seem to be tame".

Observing carefully, they noticed that a big chain was sprouting from the snow that held them prisoner.

"This confirms our hypothesis..." Pétros said, lifting it up.

"You know what I'm saying to you? That they deserve their freedom too!" Nicholas said.

In a short time they managed to break the chains by releasing them.

"I don't know where you are going, my friends, but surely any place will be better than this..." Nicholas said goodbye to her.

The beasts, almost as if they understood the words, gave a puff of response and, after giving them a glance of deep recognition, took to gallop and magically flew!

The sight of the animals running free and happy in the air left the two of them amazed.

"Unbelievable! Who knows to which race they belonged".

"I don't know, but from the thick fur I'd say that they were Northern animals. Flying deer...that's what I really missed!"

When they were found in the real world, Pétros perceived a strange sensation of dizziness, and, touching his head, he realized that something had changed.

"But...but...but...my horns! I no longer have horns?"

Nicholas watched him attentively, muttering his thoughts.

"In principle you're right, but in reality you're left with a couple of reddish bumps that aren't very nice to look at...I hope they disappear...in the meantime I suggest you use a nice headgear.

The peasants, still celebrating the happy success of the enterprise, wanted to pay back in some way, offering their saviors every kind of food good: cold cuts, cheese, wheat and a green pointed hat, which in the heat had been unintentionally stacked among the gifts. The Bishop, when he saw it, hurried to anticipate the elf.

"Here is a beautiful hat for you! You cannot refuse: you would offend these good people".

Pétros sighed, put it on and humbly thanked him while he was carrying the gifts and walking with the Bishop.

"It doesn't look bad for you...you could use it as a work uniform."

"Work uniform?" asked the astonished little man.

"Of course, you have to make a living, and my diocese needs a handyman. Do you have any experience?"

"Before that damned Pelznickel enlisted me in his ranks, I was one of the best carpenters in my city, then because of gambling debts I had to do things, let's say...undignified..."

"The past is the past, let's leave it behind us, every man has the right to a second chance and you have earned it. In two days it will be Christmas, I am entrusting you with an assignment: for that date you have to build three wooden rocking horses, I want to give them to those poor boys to try to partially erase their painful memories; don't worry about the tools and the material, I will give them to you when we get home...".

Pétros with a smile repeated that word to himself, savouring it as sweetly as he had not done in a long time.

"Home..."

The cursed oil jar

Chapter 5

It is when darkness falls that the dark forces love to act, protected from the shadows, to hide their wickedness.

Some monstrous creatures had positioned themselves, according to orders, in the neuralgic points, while others, grinning quietly, sprinkled oil on the fields following in detail the great plan.

None of the inhabitants could imagine what catastrophe would fall upon them, something that would mark them forever...

When a red light suddenly shone in the sky, many were fascinated by the unusual phenomenon, which generated hilarity. In reality it was the signal to unleash Hell. The red abandoned the sky to colour the fields, the fires spread so quickly that any attempt to stem them was useless, the destruction was total and every crop was reduced to ashes and smoke, condemning the population to starvation.

Among the despair of many, who watched the disaster in astonishment, there was a voice that brought thoughts of hope.

"We ask the Bishop for help!

"Yes! That holy man is the only one who can help us!"

"Hurry, let's go!"

So it was that a delegation left for the diocese, hoping that their bishop would not abandon them.

When the loud sound of the clapper finally succeeded in waking up Pétros, some time had passed. With a staggering gait, the little man walked towards the doorway mumbling words almost at random between yawning and yawning.