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I thought it was time for a Christmas story. I've got a good bit worked out already. This is just a teaser for the first chapter. Before every part I will try to post triggers that will appear. This will either go really well or really bad. If the latter happens I'll probably stop. These stories have all affected me in my past. My fantasy or fancy is that great can come from grave. We have to hold those things in our hearts, the things that are good. I won't call it easy or simple but when the world shows how cruel it is we can show the good. It's not to say scars won't remain, but we can use those scars to remind us of exactly what we refuse to ever be. -_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- Everyone knows the story of Saint Nicholas. Yeah, yeah, jolly old man, with the jello belly. Laughs like he's insulting the world. You know the 8 tiny reindeer dragging around his overly puffy, wrapped in red velvet self. We all know that story, it's been drilled into us since birth. We've grown up on his kindness and his joy. His mystery feeds us as we try to understand how he manages such feats year after year. Truly, we all know that story. We may even recall his famous little Rudolph. With his nose all aglow. Guiding the sleigh to safe harbor in storms. His fame may even rival Santa Claus. He stands among the greats, saving Christmas time and again. Yes, even his accomplishments have breached the isolation of the north pole and made it to the mere mortals. These stories we know by heart, they sing us to sleep through the year, and for one night they rouse our excitement and refuse us rest. Yes we know these by heart…. But there is a story that is not told often, one that often is overlooked, or worse…. wrongly told. This is a story of another great good. For only good things are allowed at the north pole. Only pure hearts, honorable intentions, these things are allowed in this place of wonder. However, Selfless love is desired above all others in the North Pole. In reality, all of the greatest stories here are rooted and built on selfless love. The story, our story, is all about finding that one virtue. Finding it where it has held strong, held strong against tyrannical monsters, against overbearing circumstances. Where it has stood as a bastion of hope for the weak, refusing to die amidst the suffering. This story is about bringing that selfless love to the place where it will be grown and nurtured. Where it will be celebrated and cheered. Warmed and cherished, much to the dismay of the oppressive envious ones who witness the miracle of our story. It is true our story always begins in the ruins, it will, however, always end in a palace. You see, for those to be given the honor, there must be proof. It must be evident that their hearts do not waver. Even in the darkest nights, the lowest valleys, the coldest winters, or the loudest tempest. Yes, our story may not be widely known, nor is it famous from the songs sung by millions of children, but we know, yes we know the story. We know it all too well, we have lived it, and with each new face it is refreshed in our minds and hearts. Now you will know it too, hereafter, Yes you will know it too. You see, it is time we like all the other immortals tell the story, the great story, the story of our greatest benefactor. The story of Mrs. Clause...