Armando Lazzari

Nikolaos The Man Of Dreams ...and The Legend Of Santa Claus


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now!"

      In response the giant limited himself to a desperate gesture forcing with a last decisive effort the animal to surrender. The bird, exhausted, stopped fighting. When Nicholas realized he let go and relaxed his muscles a little too long contracted, enough to notice that there was no more time left.

      "Hurry, hold on tight to my belt!" he shouted.

      The leprechaun did not let himself repeat it and, clutching himself to the man with all his strength, closed his eyes praying for his salvation.

      Nicholas gave a considerable pat to the ass of the beast, who had crouched down tame, awakening its wild nature. The reaction was immediate: the animal rose up and vibrating its huge wings, it flew free again, bringing with it, clinging to its legs, the two illegal immigrants.

      The puffing herd arrived just as Nicholas and Pétros were detaching from the ground, so that the Bishop was forced to withdraw his legs in order not to be hurt by the long horns that were trying to pierce them from below. Nicholas, as if he had always been used to rule winged monsters and knew all their secrets, directed the beast to the other side of the ravine, tugging now one leg to turn.

      The leprechaun, already anxious about the precarious position, became even more concerned when he met the other birds of the group, visibly annoyed.

      "Ouch! Watch out for those! I wouldn't want them to think of us as unexpected snacks!"

      In fact, the beasts, as they approached, tried to catch them several times, each time missing the target by a whisker.

      Fortunately, Nicholas' improvised skills proved to be valid to avoid the more enterprising birds, while to discourage the more insistent ones, he had to resort to decisive kicks on the muzzles.

      When they landed safely on the opposite side, Pétros staggered several steps before regaining his balance.

      "We did it! Unbelievable!"

      "I had no doubts as to the plan, I had more doubts as to whether or not I was going to let you devour yourself...you've done well, go on..."

      "Sure! Perhaps, however, the chances of survival will increase if in the future someone doesn't use me as a little worm hanging on the hook!" the little creature complained furiously.

      "How many stories, I had calculated all the details".

      "Calculated? Damn you, I risked both a heartbreak and being caught and all served on a single plate! Next time, please calculate with your own skin!"

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      The torrid heat that enveloped Nicholas and Pétros was more and more oppressive in every moment. This triggered a long process of complaints that evaporated in the bishop's indifference.

      "Is there much more to be done? If we follow this way, we will arrive in liquid form, as long as we don't spill out on the ground dried up like jellyfish in the sun! This is one of those rare times when I would prefer fresh and clear water to wine... not good wine, of course, I would still think about that...".

      "I always remain with the hope that your tongue will dry out before everything else...anyway, did you want water? There you are satisfied!" he pointed out, incredulously so for what he saw.

      The road was interrupted in front of a large river shrouded in a thick blanket of fog which prevented one from seeing the opposite bank. The banks, although swollen with water, gave the impression of overflowing from one moment to the next.

      The little creature rushed to drink to satiety, followed more prudently by man.

      "Let us only hope that this water is not poisoned..."

      "But what are you saying! It's exquisite, try it! And then who would ever poison an entire river of this size?"

      "Have you forgotten that we are crossing an infernal region? Everything that surrounds us is hostile..."

      A voice that seemed to come from beyond the grave intruded into their reflections.

      "The water is not poisoned. The danger is that which dwells hidden within it..."

      The two identified a figure hidden by the fog not far away. He was lying on a barge near a pier, the features of his face were obscured by a large cone hat, but the long, filamentous white beard made one assume that the boatman was an old man.

      Nicholas approached the ferryman with suspicion.

      "We need to get to the other side, can you help us?" he asked him without hesitation.

      The figure first emitted a subdued giggle and then raised his head and looked into the eyes of the interlocutor.

      "It depends on what you have to offer..."

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      The being was not a man, but a dried woody creature that stared at him through two dark and deep cavities. The beard was actually made up of myriads of threads woven and woven by insects similar to silkworms that moved creeping through the holes scattered on the talking trunk.

      If the Bishop was surprised, he did not give him the least bit of notice. What was different instead was the reaction of the elf.

      "And what freak of nature would you be?"

      The being did not resent the insult and slowly moving his neck he stared at Pétros.

      "I am the solution that you are looking for, but I have a price: I want the stick held by man.

      The indignation exploded from Nicholas' lips.

      "Forget it! This is a sacred symbol, ugly, putrid pile of wood! Ask me something else, and I will see to it that you are satisfied."

      The Krampus, feeling himself backed by the giant, echoed.

      "Yeah! Or give us a good reason not to make a bonfire with your roots and take your ramshackle boat. I'm sure that a nice bonfire would brighten up the environment!"

      The menace did not break down the being at all.

      "In that case, even if for a short while, you would clearly see both the ravenous beings jumping in the waters ready to devour you, and the insidious reels that in a few moments can swallow you into the deep abysses. Without my knowledge of the river you would never get to the other side. I have watched you well and you possess nothing, except the stick, that might interest me, therefore...".

      Pétros decided to continue on the path of threats.

      "I'll bet you I'll cut your arms into little sticks that are only good as toothpicks, until you decide to take us to the other side"?

      The being lifted the long arms, which were submerged. When they came out of the water they showed their true nature: they were the oars themselves to move the ferry.

      "Am I wrong, or did you use the word bet? Has it been a long time since I played aleae3 ? How about betting a passage? If you win, I'll take you to the other side without asking anything in return, if I win, I'll only take you in exchange for the stick".

      The Krampus approached the bishop's ear to whisper his idea.

      "We accept and leave it to me, master! With the dice I make real miracles!" he strutted his stuff.

      "I am not your master! And then, do you realize what is at stake? I can't afford to lose the win, it's not just any old stick!"

      "Yes, I understand that, but trust me, I never lose! Trust me, it'll be a joke, I have my tricks, and when I play, I just win!" he tried to persuade him while Nicholas watched him silently.

      "Does the damnation of your soul concern the game?"

      "Unfortunately yes. Let's say that the game component played a fundamental role...