The Forum Advent Calendar 2020

[Mirasol]

Lovely story, Grade E cat, and excellent present choices! (I audibly squealed when I realized who would have picked out the last one. My mom asked me whether I was ok... :'D)

[Vulpes]

I like this latest addition to Katja's story! I must go and refresh my memory of the backstory, thanks for putting them all in one place, Grade E cat. It's like an extra bonus advent story. 

[Lallicat]

Nice Katja story Grade E cat! The presents were very well thought out!

[Annuil]

A lovely! Lovely story, Grade E Cat! And I really like her name 

[wavewright62]

Spoiler: open the door • show

Today's treat has been contributed by the fabulous Vulpes.  Put on the kettle (or your favourite scented candle) and enjoy this story!

Spoiler: a special re-creation • show

Year 93, early May – Måløy, Norway

Mikkel flapped the newspaper and folded it back on itself, the better to read it while sipping his coffee. Oskar glanced over from the table where he was sorting packages by destination, and wondered how it was that he seemed to do most of the work in the small shipping office. At that point Mikkel’s eyebrows nearly vanished into his hair, and his eyes opened wide. Oskar stopped sorting. This must be good.

“Well! That Danish expedition has located a small colony of survivors on the Isle of Man, just as predicted.”

Mikkel looked infuriatingly smug about this news. When the expedition was announced, Oskar had been skeptical. They had debated the odds of survivors at length, and Mikkel had an answer to any objection.

“They even have a fascinating breed of tail-less cat!” Mikkel continued. “And quite fantastical sheep. They’re taking some of the inhabitants to the Academy of Seiđur in Iceland. Apparently they have their own sort of mages.”

Oskar picked up a package to begin sorting again. “Fascinating story, Mikkel, but perhaps we should get on with…”

Mikkel launched himself out of his chair, saying, “I must go let Sigrun know about this! She’s bound to get some garbled story through the grapevine, and I should try to circumvent that – there are important decisions to be made around this!” And with that he strode out, banging the door behind him. Oskar sighed and continued sorting.

~ ~ ~ ~
Year 93, early June – Reykjavík, Iceland

As the Danish ship docked in Reykjavík harbour, Finola stood with the rest of the Manx mages staring at the town. The view seemed to her both foreign and familiar. She had seen that tall spire in a dream nearly a year earlier, and here it was, towering over the town. She looked forward to talking to the people at the Academy. But first, she was to meet the family who had agreed to billet her. She pulled out the paper with their names on it, silently sounding them out with her month-old knowledge of Icelandic: Árni Ragnarsson, Sigriđur Jónsdóttir. And their son Reynir Árnason, a mage. Scooping up her bags, she marched off the ship and onto a foreign shore for the first time in her 26 years.

~ ~ ~ ~
Year 95, mid-November – Academy of Seiđur

Finola was the last of the Manx mages still in Iceland, working at the Academy. She loved it there, sharing Manx lore and learning about Nordic magic. Reynir kept talking about Lalli and Onni, Finnish mages that he knew. Their magic was much different, and she dearly wanted to meet them. But they were far away, out of reach even in the dream world. Reynir hoped that they would visit, but from everything he said about them, she figured that was very unlikely.

~  ~ ~  ~
Year 98, early September – Dalsnes, Norway

Mikkel was opening mail among the breakfast dishes, while Sigrun honed her favourite knife. On unfolding one letter, Mikkel’s eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened. Sigrun paused – this must be good.

“Emil appears to have suddenly become sentimental. He would like to have a reunion among our little crew.”

“Fantastic!” yelled Sigrun. “I’d love to see my former right-hand man again! What about the pipsqueak? And freckles?”

“Evidently he has already convinced Lalli, who has arm-twisted Onni… or perhaps it is the other way around.” He flipped the letter over. “No mention of Reynir.”

“Christmas!” Sigrun declared.

“What?”

“Christmas! Let’s have them all here for Christmas. We have lots of room. It’ll be awesome!”

“I suspect that Emil intended that we visit him…”

“That’s settled, then. I’ll see about getting someone to look after the cooking, they won’t come if they think you’re in charge of the kitchen. We’ll have to get the biggest tree…”

~  ~ ~  ~
Year 98, late September – Brúardalur, Iceland

Reynir had just received a most surprising letter.  “Remember those adventures I told you about, in the Silent World? Sigrun and Mikkel are inviting me to Norway for a reunion at Christmas. Both Lalli and Onni will be there.”

Finola’s heart leapt, then fell. A crew reunion… they wouldn’t want outsiders. Reynir clearly felt otherwise.

“You must come! Nobody will mind. I’ll let them know there will be two of us.”

“If you are sure. I will bring a gift – oh, I just think of the perfect one!”

“What is it?”

“You will see. It’s from the Isle of Man, I never hear of it here.”

In her room, she dug out her mother’s recipe box, and found the one for plum pudding. The last time she made it was years earlier, with her mother, and of course there were several ingredients they couldn’t get. But here the greenhouses produced spices and citrus fruit. There were much nicer brandies, too, than Uncle Loghlan’s rotgut.

She scanned the ingredients – yes, she would actually be able to make it according to the recipe. With all those spices and fruits from the greenhouses, it was going to cost her a month’s wages, but it was well worth it to re-create the traditional pudding for the first time in nearly 100 years.

~  ~ ~  ~
Year 98, 20 December – Dalsnes, Norway

Finola and Reynir lugged their bags to the door, which Mikkel threw open as they approached. He looked the same as always, with perhaps a touch of grey at his temples. Unusually, though, his eyebrows went up and his eyes widened – at which point Reynir realised that he may have forgotten to post that letter mentioning that Finola was coming.

“Mikkel! Here’s Finola, who I mentioned in that letter I sent.” He smiled a little too broadly.

Mikkel supressed a sigh. “Delighted to meet you, Finola. Welcome to our home. And it’s wonderful to see you, Reynir, you haven’t changed one bit,” and gave him a hard look.

Once they were settled, Finola told her hosts what she had brought as a gift and asked if she might serve it at the Christmas dinner they had planned.

“More food is always good, little Manx mage!” bellowed Sigrun, giving her a friendly cuff on the shoulder, nearly knocking her over.

~  ~ ~  ~
24 December

They spent Christmas laughing, eating, and taking short walks to justify eating more. Gifts were opened and exclaimed over, and finally they sat down to the festive meal. They worked their way through crispy ribbe, tangy sauerkraut, Christmas sausages, potatoes and the rest, toasting one another with aquavit along the way.

Finally Mikkel said, “Finola has brought us a Manx Christmas treat for dessert.” All eyes, some slightly unfocused on account of all the toasting, were on her.

“This recipe is very old. This is first time I have some… makings… ingredients! Nobody made it proper since almost 100 years.”

She rose, and asked if someone could give her a hand. Mikkel prodded Emil in the ribs, making him jump. Finola smiled at him, and beckoned him to follow.

“I can barely understand her!” he hissed to Mikkel.

“I think she merely requires someone to carry it.”

In the kitchen, a large, dark mound sat on a heavy ceramic serving dish. Beside it sat a bottle of brandy, a box of matches, a small cooking pot, and a bowl. Finola took the pot to the stove to warm. She gestured to the brandy, mimed pouring it on the cake and putting a match to it. Then she turned to stirring the sauce.

Emil felt relieved. This task involves fire – perfect! He poured some brandy on the cake. Was it enough? He looked over at Finola, but she was frowning and stirring vigorously so he didn’t want to interrupt her. He sloshed more on.

“Ready?” She had the sauce in the bowl, and gestured with her head toward the cake.

He struck a match and touched it to the pool of alcohol in the plate.

~ ~ ~ ~
In the dining room, Lalli was nodding off among the detritus of the main course. The rest of them were half-pickled, having a boisterous conversation. Even Onni was wrangling with Mikkel about something. Lalli didn’t do well without his usual routines, and even the small amount of aquavit he’d had went to his head. The whole evening was taking on a dream-like quality. What happened next did little to allay that impression.

The door from the kitchen opened, and a strange glow appeared. Everyone stopped talking. First the dish appeared, bearing a large shape enveloped in a bluish flame that reached some 50 cm above it. Then Emil appeared, holding the dish at arm’s length, leaning back slightly to avoid singeing his hair. Finola followed, carrying a small bowl.

Sigrun broke the silence. “Now that is my kind of dessert!”

~  ~ ~  ~
Lying in bed, Finola thought about her pudding’s success. None of them had ever heard of flaming plum pudding, so of course they wouldn’t know that it wasn’t meant to be a towering inferno. And once the flames died down, it was as delicious as she had hoped, and the hard sauce was a hit as well. Something didn’t add up about the evening, though. As she dozed off, it came to her – when Emil brought in the pudding, Mikkel’s eyebrows hadn’t gone up, and he had his usual calm, impassive look, with maybe just the hint of a smile.

[Jitter]

Hahaa Vulpes, Mikkel pulling the strings again  Great stuff!

The Katja story and Wave’s art are also delightful!

[Róisín]

These are all wonderful! And Manx culture is half Nordic anyway, as is their  language and political structure. Such of their our-world magic and folklore as I know is also a Celtic/ Nordic fusion, so the Manx mage may find her studies go better than she expects!

[Keep Looking]

Vulpes, I loved that story! Manx culture has always interested me a bit since a few of my ancestors were Manx (they came to Australia back in the 1800s though, and nothing's really been passed down), but y'know, it's enough to give me a passing interest.

[Grade E cat]

Have Emil carry the thing that's been set on fire on purpose... of course.

[Alkia]

aah Vulpes, that story was a delight to read!! my family has had flaming pudding for Christmas once or twice, but never with such spectacular flames as here

and Grade E Cat, the Katja story was great! it took me a second to figure out who the last present might have been from, but I almost squealed like Mirasol when I did

[Lallicat]

Great story Vulpes! I've never heard of flaming pudding, but it sounds good, I might have to try that recipe!

[Vulpes]

Thanks everyone, glad it was an enjoyable read.

Disclaimer: I have never made the recipe, and to the best of my knowledge, neither did my mother! She must have asked Aunt Ilda for it, but then lost enthusiasm. So I have no idea if it works. Also many instructions are left out; I know that plum pudding is steamed in covered molds, but those details are not given in the recipe.

[Annuil]

Oooh, Emil with the flaming cake! Such a great story, Vulpes! I love it!

[Johannabelle]

Ah, such great stories the past couple of days! Grade E cat, I also enjoyed reading about the gifts, and the ending, gasp :O And Vulpes, such a lovely reunion! Loved how Emil got the honor of lighting that thing up.

[Mirasol]

Oh Finola, you should know that if Emil gets his hands on the matches, it´s always ment to be a towering inferno. :'D
Great story, Vulpes, it really made me laugh!