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Eve & The City of Yule

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ART BY @MAGLADUNADRAWS

In Terren Year 1224, the King of Misery, a parallel to the Saint of Cheer, awakened. His offensive was pushed back for another sixteen years, but not before afflicting a curse on his sworn enemy's young granddaughter...

Chapter Two

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Eve Alcazar was not an ordinary child.

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She remembered her first session with Mencía, at three years old. How the woman completed a psychological evaluation on her. Mencía asked her questions such as if Eve felt satisfied in completing tasks, felt sleepy more often, or wanted to harm.

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It would not be until Eve was much older that she would learn having these visits at her age were extremely unheard of. Eve did not realize she was... different. Considered “ill”. According to the others around her, she was.

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After the visit, Eve was out in the garden. During her intense staredown with a butterfly on a flower bush, she heard her mother’s voice.

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She spoke of a “monster.”

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Mencía had stayed a little longer to chat with Mr. and Mrs. Alcazar. Her parents explained everything to the therapist.

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A past Eve was unaware of.

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As a baby, Eve never laughed. Both Valentin and Holly were warned this would happen. Nonetheless, they felt inferior as parents for failing to make her smile.

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Often, Eve displayed characteristics of independence. She wanted order. She always refrained from communicating too much. She felt emotions deeply.

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She knew anger. She knew sadness. She knew disgust, and fear.

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But, smiling. Happiness.

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Joy.

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These were feelings unfamiliar.

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At five years old, she met Nick.

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Her cousin “from the North” — she did not know where that was. Eve found his name peculiar, but she learned he shared it with a long line of men in the family.

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That did not change her thoughts on the matter.

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Her parents and uncle conversed over a prolonged lunch in the dining room, but she was left alone with the nine year old boy, Nicholas V, in the living quarters. By his enthusiastic greeting that afternoon, Eve was already very taken aback by him. But, nonetheless, she listened to him intently as he shared details of his upbringing. His home. 

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“Where I’m from, it’s very cold. The snow is thick, and sometimes it can be a little annoying, but you get used to it.”

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“Snow?”

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“Yeah, snow!” His response was as if she was silly for even inquiring. But then he quickly realized.

 

“Crystallization. From ice,” he explained. “It forms into a white blanket over the land, every winter. In fact—”

He pulled out a book from his knapsack that lay in a corner. He opened up to a seemingly random page. “Do you like books?”

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Do I like books? Eve had asked herself.

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Nick remembered his parents forewarning him about his cousin’s... different personality. He moved on with a swift

 

“Sorry, nevermind.”

 

“This book has a drawing of a snowstorm.”

 

Eve remembered being surprised by the illustration of a weather phenomenon so different from the warm climate of the countryside.

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“Doesn’t snow here in Manna, huh?” Nick asked.

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Still agape, Eve shook her head.

 

“It is pretty warm and dry over here,” Nick chuckled. “Maybe we can fix that.”

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His sanguine temperament reminded Eve of Desiree. She found it a little jarring, but it was manageable.

 

He could be a friend.

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“Here,” Nick closed the volume and handed it to her. “You can have this.”

 

Before Eve could thank him, Nick walked over to the window, motioning her to follow.

 

The view was a large field, right in front of the Manor. Traces of autumn marked the gardens.

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“You see how clear this window is?” he asked. “How clear and open it is outside?”

 

Eve nodded.

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“Watch.”

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Eve’s gaze followed Nick’s fingers as he placed them gently on the glass and squinted. His eyes shut. Eve even believed she heard him begin to hum.

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Her heart stopped when she started to feel a newer sensation so close. Her palms quickly found her forearms, and moved them up. She found herself shaking. A shiver.

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She was cold.

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Eve noticed orange specks on the grass shifting to white. She noticed water vapor solidifying on the glass. She noticed—

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Her uncle and parents. How they barged into the room. How her uncle grabbed Nick by the collar and took him away, before she could say goodbye. How Nick yelped, shouting his apologies at her, and how he expressed to his father that he did not mean to do any wrong. How Lorenzo later came for Nick’s belongings, but Eve only shared about the knapsack. She lied how the book was one of her own from the Manor.

 

Her new friend was taken from her. She heard her parents murmur about the “use of magic”, but she was confused on what exactly that was.

 

When Eve asked about Nick, they solemnly declared she should not see him again.

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At seven, she remembered overhearing her parents from their bedroom as she snuck past the corridors, late into the night. Restless. She frequented the library around the hour, whenever she felt insomniac. Her actions weren’t inherently secretive, but she did not feel the need to publicize them to the rest of the household.

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“It’s my fault, Valentin.”

 

“Holly—”

 

“No, it is.”

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Eve sensed her mother’s tone being firm. Full of culpability. Guilt.

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“I know how much we wanted this. A family,” she remembered her mother stating. She sounded on the verge of tears. “Eve... I’m sorry…”

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At first, Eve believed that her parents regretted having her. She quickly learned that was not the case.

There was no regret in having a family. There was remorse for not having a happy one.

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“How could he have done such a thing? How will she ever be happy?”

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There were sobs.

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“Is she happy, Val?”

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“Of course she is.”

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“I just didn’t know that he would—”

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“Holly.” Eve sensed her father’s warmth. It conflicted with her mother’s frustration.

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Eve’s time focused on the door was limited, and she only remembered pieces of the muffled conversation.

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A winter. A fairy. A demon, and her grandfather.

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Eve would ask about her grandfather the following morning. Her parents declined to respond. She tried again that afternoon.

 

Her mother tells her he is dead.

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​

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At fourteen, Eve came across Nick’s book again, deep within the archives in the library. Just like how she left it that fateful day. She opened it to the first page.

Terminal Moon

 

Eve pondered its meaning, but she grew afraid that revealing the existence of the book, telling her parents about it, would result in erasing more of Nick.

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She grew distrustful. She began to believe she was being blocked. Prevented from doing something.

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Or being protected from someone.

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Was it Nick?

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Another force?

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Eve did not know.

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As she continued further into the reading, a certain name stuck out.

KRAMPUS

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At fifteen, Eve could not stop crying.

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At sixteen, she was visited every Sunday by Desiree, Mencía’s granddaughter. They would go for walks outside the Manor, just as her grandmother had advised. Walks, gardening, bicycling, all activities to boost mental health. Eve always felt the same, no matter what, but she figured the companionship with Desiree was enough to engage. Desiree would talk about her tutoring, her lessons, her family, and the books she had read, and Eve would do the same.

Eve also appreciated that Desiree was the only person she could speak to about Nick. About that day.

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“What if he’s dead, too?” Eve asked one afternoon, looking ahead on the path.

 

Her thoughts were becoming overwhelming. She needed to tell someone.

 

And Eve trusted her.

 

“Don’t think that,” Desiree replied. “I think if he was, Mr. and Mrs. Alcazar would say something. They would tell you. He’s your family.”

 

“They’re sheltering me, Desiree,” Eve acknowledged. “They’re keeping me here. They know I don’t behave like other people. They’re very selective of those around me.”

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“Eve—”

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“Am I wrong?” Eve stopped in her tracks, finding Desiree’s face.

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“Eve—”

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“What if they take you away next?”

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“Eve.”

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“Everyone talks about how I’m ‘so different’!” Eve mocked.

 

“Eve, please.”

 

“There’s a reason for everything, right?” Eve paused. She gazed at the sky. “All of this.”

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Desiree gave a small sigh. “I believe that everything happens for some sort of purpose, yes.”

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Eve shifted her look from the skies to her friend’s face.

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“Do you know my purpose?”

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Desiree was not prepared to answer. Her thoughts started to dance as she thought of her grandmother’s words. Mencía’s comments over the years, sporadic in her mind.

 

Be nice to the Alcazars’ daughter. She doesn’t experience joy. But you are now her friend, okay?

Eve is cursed. By Krampus, the winter demon. She is the granddaughter of St. Nicholas Kringle IV. Her family moved here for protection. No winter. All summer.

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Desiree recalled.

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Will she be lonely, Grandma?

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It’s likely. Please take care of her.

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“Eve.”

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Desiree snapped out of it.

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“I am so sorry.”

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She hesitated, but continued.

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“I don’t think it is my place to tell you.”

 

“I knew it!” an outburst.

 

A rarity.

 

“I thought I could trust you. I can’t, can’t I?” Eve cried. Before Desiree could stop her, Eve was running down the path.

 

“Eve!” she followed. “That’s not it. Eve!”

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Eve Alcazar was not an ordinary child. But that did not mean that she was unloved.

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Eve wondered when or if she would ever feel it.

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