———— 0004.  d e c e m b e r  0 4.

wow.

My friends have the most insane ideas in the universe. And Mrs Claus enabled them, encouraged them. It was pretty clear that the whole world is too big for one elf to search. That's why they thought… I may need someone to help me. 

Neither of them could come with me, as the Toy Shop needed them, and Mrs Claus was left alone to lead. So… I had to contact a mortal to help me. 

Lenna had this idea that if I go to near the humans and their mischief… I need someone by my side who is just as wicked and rotten as them. So this is how… Lenna dig deep into the Naughty List. 

The Naughty List wasn't some legend or myth they told the kids. It was a very legitimate thing. I had to go through the daily updates of both the Naughty and the Nice list, validate and stamp them. We kept track of all children in the world. Well… Children is an umbrella term. Every single young adult till the age of twenty-one. 

And there are kids who are… Doomed to the Naughty list. Maybe because of something they did. Maybe because of something their parents did and they must suffer for it. Maybe because of something so bad that happened decades or centuries ago. 

And the great example of that was the twenty and a half year old…  Brynhildr Sigurbjörndóttir. 

She was doomed to the Naughty List. Maybe her kids too. Maybe her grandkids too. 

You know the one disadvantage of the Naughty and Nice list, beside pride and prejudice? 

Among elves, there were spies too. Who secretly worked for these dark creatures I've mentioned earlier. And so… They knew about the lists too. They knew which children need… punishment. 

This is why we need Santa. Because he was the only one who could have make sure that Gryla and her crew wouldn't punish some innocent child. Or any child, preferably. 

This is how I ended up in Reykjavík, at the evening of the fourth of december. Alone. Freezing. 

I usually found solitude refreshing. But it was un-usually lonely to get to the capital from the North. 

Our lists were thorough. So this is how I knew where Brynhildr lives, works, studies. I knew all of her data. I saw her picture in the folder. 

Gaylia gave me a smart phone before I left Álfaþorp. She said that this is how we could keep in touch. I knew the basics of how to use a smart phone and the internet. Not as good as Gaylia though. She was obsessed. But I had to admit, the navigation, the social media platforms and Google were a huge help. 

I stand at the front of this bar called Loftið. Air. Honestly, I was desperately in need of air. Located on the second floor with huge windows overlooking the busy walking street below, and perfectly worn brown leather sofas, Loftið offered a lot in ambiance. So they said in the brochures. Come for the whiskey selection and tailored feeling of the place – that was the correct quote. You must be 25 years old to enter, as well as adhere to a dress code of ‘neat and classy’. 

So I dressed neat and classy. Gaylia made sure of that. 

I've tried really hard not tucking my hair behind my ears constantly. I've tried to avoid attention. And my pointy, elf ears… were a call for attention, I must admit. 

I've tried to create different conversation starters in my head. But I still couldn't figure out a semi-normal and not too stalker-ish way of asking her to please, help me find Santa! 

It was hot in the building but I still pulled more together my thick coat. Stop being weird! Be confident! Act like you've been in this kind of place before! 

I blew out the air that was stuck in my lungs. 

The bar was full. Two barista worked at the counter. One was a young man. 

The other was… Brynhildr Sigurbjörndóttir. 

I hopped on the bar chair that was directly at her face… miserably. 

"Hvað get ég fengið fyrir þig?" Fork me! My modern Icelandic was a little rusty. 

My original, default language was old Icelandic. The one they used to write the Edda sagas. We communicated with that at the Toy Shop. 

Luckily, modern Icelandic was still ancient. Nothing really changed in the few centuries. Just some. 

I believe she just asked me what could she get for me! Oh My Santa, be cool! Be cool! 

"Kók er bara fínt!" I've tried to tell her that a cola is just fine, hesitantly, tried to form the old grammar and old words confidently and fast, maybe they didn't really changed in the last few years . Fork, no one asks for a Cola at the bar! Especially not in a bar that was only open for the people above the age of 25. 

"Allt í lagi!" 

Thank Santa that it's okay! 

In a minute, she placed the bottle of Coca Cola in front of me. Oh my, I haven't had a soda in years! I remember when Cola was a big invention, someone bought a... lot of boxes and we all drank it for weeks.

She stared weirdly at my shivering, pattering fingers on the icy bottle, my chipped nails that poked on the metal straw she gave me with the Cola. I've tried to stop my fidgeting fingers. 

"Ohm… Nice playlist you got here!" I waved at the stereos awkwardly after I coughed. 

"I guess, if you like these type of music!" she laughed dry-ly as she rolled her eyes. This is when I really looked at her. She had shoulder length, brown hair, passive agressive, but beautiful eyes, fair skin. Thin… With curves. How is that possible? 

I nearly choked on my drink as I looked all through her body. 

"Everyone likes Christmas" I chuckled. 

"Yeah, sure..." 

So… Not everyone, I guess. 

"You are not from around here, right?" She asked me all the sudden. I felt my face blush. I couldn't see myself from the outside but I could picture myself with bright red face. Just as bright red as my hat back home. 

"What gave it away?" I asked nerviously as I ducked my head. 

"Everything!" she laughed. 

"Well, you are right." I admitted, my fingers still moved like crazy. I shivered. I panicked. I was awkward. "I'm from… North."

"I understand everything!" she shook her head, laughing. My eyes widened as a question. "My parents are from there too. Everybody is weird there. Everything is weird there."

"It's really… Not that weird!" I tried to convince her hesitantly. "I mean it's more like… Winter Wonderland. It's magical. You know, it's like… From a folktale." 

"Yeah, sure, magical!" she clearly didn't agree and… I start to fidget some more. "Why are you so nervous? You need some stronger than that Coke?"

"Oh, it's just… Work thing!" I shrugged. "You know, the thing is… I kinda… I was told… That you can help. I came specifically for you. I… Have to ask you something… You have to help me find Santa Claus before Christmas Eve!"

a/n : hello, hello, its me again!

so... Here is Bryn finally!!!

what you think about her???