New Beginnings
Santa’s Village: September 2025
The breeze carried the scent of snow-dusted pine needles as Liora Brightwell stepped off the peppermint-striped trolley. Her boots crunched softly on the path of crushed sugarcane gravel that led toward the village square. Santa’s Village shimmered under a pale blue September sky—its rooftops already kissed with the first soft frost of the season. Steam curled from chimneys. Lights glowed warmly in bakery windows. A faint sound of harmonica practice drifted from somewhere near the Great Fir Tree Stage.
Liora took a deep breath and tightened her grip on the small woven satchel at her side. She wore her best woolen cloak, embroidered with tiny gold stars—an heirloom passed down from her grandmother, who once helped construct toys for Santa Neik Klass himself. The stars glinted as she walked, but Liora barely noticed. Her eyes were wide, her nerves fluttering. This was the day.
She had arrived for Elf Orientation.
For as long as she could remember, Liora had dreamed of living in Santa’s Village. Not just visiting during the Winter Markets or sending letters from her hillside town near Lone Pine, but really living here. Working in the Toyworks, feeding the reindeer, decorating parade floats, helping with cocoa distribution logistics—she didn’t care what job she was given, so long as it mattered. So long as it meant she belonged.
She was one of sixty-seven young elves chosen for this year’s orientation. Only the brightest, kindest, most promising elflings from across Evela had been invited. And now, here she was, trying not to trip over her own feet as she crossed the threshold into the village proper.
She paused near the signpost at the edge of the square:
Cedar House – 2 minutes that way →
She glanced around and followed the sign, her satchel bouncing against her hip.
Cedar House sat near the edge of town, not far from the root beer creek that twisted its way through the north end of the village. A modest, three-story building of honey-hued wood, the house was draped in ivy and pine boughs and boasted a large wraparound porch lined with cushioned rocking chairs. A wooden plaque on the door read:
Welcome to Cedar House
Elf Orientation Home Base – Year 193
As she entered, a gust of laughter and the sweet smell of cinnamon met her. The foyer was busy with arrivals—young elves hugging old friends, parents snapping quick portraits before departure, and orientation guides trying to wrangle luggage into labeled cubbies. A curly-haired Shoe Elf with a clipboard greeted her at the welcome desk.
“Name?” the elf asked brightly.
“Liora Brightwell,” she replied.
The elf’s eyes scanned the list. “Room four, second floor. You’re in Cedar Team. That’s a good one.”
She handed Liora a ribboned packet with her schedule, house key, a map of Santa’s Village, and a peppermint token good for one treat at Crumbelle’s Bakery.
Upstairs, Liora found her room already bustling. A tall, sun-freckled elf with brilliant green eyes waved her in. “You’re Liora? I’m Marigold. Your bed’s the one by the window.”
The next hour passed in a blur of unpacking, chatting, and introductions. Their third roommate, a quiet boy named Pip with wild hair and a soft laugh, arrived late with cookie crumbs in his collar. “I got lost by the sleigh yard,” he admitted. “Kept following reindeer smells.”
By the time the house bell rang for the welcome assembly, Liora already felt a flicker of something she hadn’t expected: comfort.
The orientation assembly was held in Great Fir Tree Hall, a towering space carved inside the trunk of the ancient fir that stood at the village’s heart. Thousands of twinkling lights danced among the branches overhead, and the air smelled faintly of pine sap and caramel.
Bernard, Santa’s Chief Assistant, took the stage with a clipboard nearly as long as he was tall. His voice, warm and firm, welcomed the new class of elf trainees.
“You are here not just to learn what we do,” he said, “but why we do it. You are here to discover the heart of Santa’s Village—and your own place within it.”
There were murmurs of excitement. Liora found herself leaning forward in her seat, clutching her packet.
As Bernard outlined the Orientation schedule—classes in Toy Engineering, Reindeer Care, Parade Design, Community Kindness, and more—he added a reminder that made a few heads nod knowingly: “Every elf here is sixteen years old—just the right age to begin the training that prepares you for a future here in the Village. Sixteen might feel young, but it’s when your gifts begin to show themselves most clearly.”
Liora glanced around. It was true—they all looked roughly the same age, still in the early stretch of youth, not quite adult but brimming with energy. It made the sight of the tall figure standing quietly near the back of the hall all the more noticeable.
He was older. Taller by at least a head. His posture was confident but still. His slightly pointed ears peeked from beneath thick, dark hair, and he stood apart from the others not by choice, but by nature.
“Is that him?” someone whispered nearby.
“The new Bernard?”
“That can’t be. He looks almost full-grown.”
“That is him,” someone else whispered. “He came to Orientation when he was twenty. That’s why he was noticed. He stood out from the beginning.”
Liora turned forward again quickly, cheeks warm. She hadn’t meant to stare. But she couldn’t help but feel intrigued. Who shows up to Elf Orientation four years late—and still manages to stand out?
That night, back in Cedar House, the seven residents of Team Cedar sat around a warm hearth sipping marshmallow tea. In addition to Marigold and Pip, Liora had met gentle Beelo, mischievous twins Wisp and Wattle, and practical-minded Juniper, who already had her map marked with favorite locations to visit.
They swapped stories of their home villages and speculated which class might be the hardest. Pip was convinced the reindeer were secretly assigning points to each elf. Wisp said she planned to win the end-of-year parade design contest. Juniper rolled her eyes but smiled anyway.
And when they finally turned in for the night, Liora lay awake in her bed, staring at the soft glow of the snow globe lantern beside her. A snowflake swirled lazily within it.
She hadn’t expected to feel so much, so fast—nerves, joy, wonder, curiosity. But more than anything, she felt something that surprised her most of all.