The Emperor's Carol
An Otter Island story
by Oren Otter

Sayna stared at the photograph in her album. She didn't have many. Cameras were a technology foreign to Otter Island, but when a visitor brought one, everyone liked to have their picture taken, so Sayna made sure she had pictures of all her friends. This one, however, was very strange. In it, she saw herself. There were Blalok and Tak, her closest friends. There was also Sam the conjurer in his signature top hat. And standing next to Sam, an otter who looked almost identical to him, save for the headgear and the lack of Sam's impressive eyebrows. Sayna knew intellectually that she did not know this otter, yet there he was, standing there as if he'd known the whole group for years.

There was a knock at the burrow door. Letting himself in, Blalok came down the stairs, his smooth coat covered in a dusting of snowflakes. "Good evening," he said, brightly. "Unusually cold weather we're having today."

"Yes," replied Sayna, not taking her eyes from the picture. "It's getting close to Christmas. The Island likes to make it snow to get into the Christmas spirit."

"I guess I'll never understand it," said Blalok, brushing the snow from his fur. "I come from Kelaa, in the Indian Ocean. Christmas was always as warm and sunny as any other day, so for me, there's never been a connection."

"I was born here. But my parents used to tell me about how Christmas was the hottest time of the year in Borneo. Hey, Blalok. Come look at this. Do you recognize this person?"

Blalok seemed puzzled for a moment. "He seems familiar. But then he does look just like Sam."

"Without the eyebrows."

"Yeah... but there's something oddly... I don't know the word. It's like my memory is itching."

Sayna poured her guest a cup of hot tea. "Maybe a relaxing drink will jog our memories." The two otters chatted about many things, about how reindeer can fly, about what their friend Tak would like as a gift, about next month's Otter Day festivities, but through it all, Sayna couldn't shake the feeling that she was missing something very important.

* * *

The Emperor of the Nageel was finding it hard to sleep. Recent events were weighing on his mind. His son, Prince Farron, had attempted to capture Otter Island by colluding with General Scotorus against the evil fairy, Prince Selv. The plan had gone badly. Farron had lost a finger and the ghast who was slaved to his ring had been swallowed. The emperor was actually very proud of his son's plan, despite its failure. It troubled him, however, that Farron had confided none of it in him.

Floating in front of the window, he looked out at his kingdom. Illuminated partly by phosphorescent algae and partly by magic, the lights of a dozen cities shown through the clear waters of the Pacific Ocean. It wasn't a bad kingdom, but he had failed to do the one thing the nageel had been looking to him to accomplish his entire life—capture Otter Island. The nageel were shape-shifters, able to become human, eel, and intermediate forms, but it was rare for them to ever become fully human. There simply was no solid land they could call home. Every attempt to take the Island had been thwarted by those horrible little weasels.

As the potentate looked out over his undersea domain, the lights in the palace seemed to dim. He looked around, but could see no one. He could, however, feel a presence. Shivers ran through him that had nothing to do with the water temperature. The emperor became nervous, but as he had been taught to do from childhood, he turned that fear into aggression.

"WHO IS THERE?" he shouted. "SHOW YOURSELF!"

The response was a soft laughter which echoed as if in a deep cavern. It spoke a word he had not heard in many years, his name.

"Xor."

"Who are you? How do you know my name? No one may call me that! I am only Emperor!"

"You never called me Empress," said the voice. "So I think it only fair that I call you Xor."

Now came a flood of emotions which Xor could not channel into aggression. "Jipuna?"

"Ah, so you do remember me." The voice now became joined to an appearance, as the form of Xor's late wife shimmered into existence. She was as lovely as ever, with gossamer fins and a long, flowing tail. "Hello, Xor. It has been a long time."

"But... you are dead!"

"I am. And my death was the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Why do you appear to me?" the emperor demanded.

"Always straight down to business, aren't you? Very well. I came here to deliver a warning. You are going to die, Xor. And very soon."

"When?"

"I cannot tell you that or it would defeat the purpose, but your time in the sea grows very short."

"So what is to be gained by telling me this?"

"Hope. There is a way for you to be saved, Xor."

"Am I to be murdered? Tell me who it is," said the emperor. "I shall put the traitor to death."

"That is not the salvation I speak of," said Jipuna.

Xor became irritated. "You tell me I am to die, and you speak of salvation, yet you will not tell me how to prevent my death? What sort of game is this?"

"This is not a game," replied the ghost, hotly. "Tonight, you will be visited by three spirits. Heed their warnings, Xor, and you may be saved. Ignore them and you will be destroyed."

Xor shook his head. "This makes no sense. I am dreaming. That is what it is. You are not real. You are simply the product of a sleeping mind with too many affairs of state weighing upon it."

Jipuna looked as though she was ready to fly into a rage, and for a moment, Xor feared for his life, but then the anger seemed to melt away into sadness. "I had hoped you might change, but your ears are stoppered. Good bye, Xor. You will not see me again." She began swimming toward the window.

"WAIT!" called the emperor.

"Yes?" Jipuna paused and turned around.

"If I meet with these spirits, then I will see you again?"

Jipuna smiled. "If you will, then there is hope."

Xor nodded. "I shall do as you ask, but only if you promise you shall not leave me forever."

Jipuna sighed. "That is not up to me, but you." With that, the late queen swam into the open ocean and disappeared.

* * *

"Come in!" rang Tak's high, nasal voice. 

Sayna opened the door, entered Tak's house and found it surprising. After his burrow had suffered flooding, Tak had moved into a tree stump. She expected the home to be dark, dank, and cold, but it was surprisingly well-lit, warm and comfortable. It was comfortably furnished, with a nice, cushy beanbag couch as its centerpiece. Sayna remembered the couch. She'd given it to him last Christmas. It had cost her fifty oysters. While it was true that one could just take whatever one truly needed from any shop, the best things had to be traded for, and Sayna had spent three days gathering oysters to buy this gift. It had been worth it to see the smile on her friend's face.

"What can I do for you?" asked this same friend.

"I have a question for you," said the hairy-nosed female. "Have you ever seen this person?" She showed him the photograph and pointed to the mystery man.

"Who, Sam?"

"No, next to Sam."

"It's another Sam."

"Not quite. Look. No eyebrows."

"Oh, right. That's... oh... it's on the tip of my tongue."

"You know you should know him, but you don't, do you? It's like there's a hole in your memory?"

"Yeah... Yeah, it's just like that. How'd you know?"

"Blalok and I get the same feeling when we look at him. I was hoping you could tell us who he is."

"Sorry. Have you asked Sam?"

"Sam's not on the Island," replied Sayna. "His family is visiting relatives for Christmas."

Tak popped a few grapes into his mouth as he thought. "Let's try asking the historian. She might know."

"Good idea. Let's do that." She dashed out the door and Tak followed, stopping only long enough to stuff a yellow apple into his mouth.

* * *

The nageel emperor swam agitatedly through the corridors of his palace. His encounter with his late wife had left him uneasy in no small measure. Sleep would be hard in coming.

As he was approaching the armory, someone came swimming the other way. It was his son, Prince Farron. The prince greeted his father and noted his look of disquiet.

"Personal matters press upon me which I have not, in the normal course of my days, had time to contemplate," said the emperor, evasively. "And you? What are you doing awake at this time of night?"

"Conducting a weapons inventory, Father," replied the prince. "Tomorrow is a big day."

"How so?"

"Tomorrow is Christmas. The beasts upon the Island will be celebrating. Their guard will be at its lowest. During their celebrations, our forces will conduct multiple, simultaneous raids upon the Island and take out as many of them as we can. If we do not capture the Island tomorrow, we never will."

Xor smiled. "You were always one to take initiative, my son. But why did you not tell me this? Surely the emperor should be informed of a coming battle."

Farron scratched the side of his nose in a nervous gesture, the motion showing the place where his middle finger had once been. This he did whenever he wanted to remind someone of his loyalty to the nageel and their causes. Xor was not unaware of this. "I wanted it to be a surprise," said the prince. "To make you proud of me and show you that I can be a good leader."

"As you say. And when will these raids take place?"

"At six, when the otters will be waking to collect their gifts."

"I will be there," said Xor. He planned to be there at five.

* * *

The historian looked intently at the picture. "Can you tell me anything about him?" she asked.

"Only that we think he was our friend. It's like our memories are being blocked."

The historian, whose name was Dreen, looked at the faces of Tak, Sayna and Blalok. All of them were sincere in their ignorance. "Tell me," she said. "Have you had any interesting dreams lately?"

"No more interesting than usual," said Tak. "I dreamed I was a turkey last night, and that I had to stuff myself with bread."

"That's disturbing," said Blalok.

"You're telling me. It tasted horrible."

"I've been having a recurring dream," said Sayna. The Spirit of the Island comes to me and shows me its hands. One of its fingers is missing. I thought it had something to do with Farron."

Tak perked his ears. "I remember something like that. The Island had four fingers on one hand, and it was always holding an orange."

"I'd chalk that up to your diet," said Blalok. "But I've had one that's been bugging me for a while. I'm walking with the Spirit of the Island and looking at statues. They're wizards of the past. We see Lomal, then Malaku, followed by Trellin, Zizi, and Vohon. But when we get to the last pedestal, the statue is broken and overgrown with tree roots. Rotten tree roots."

Dreen took a book from a shelf. "Many otters have been having dreams like this. And I believe they are significant. I wasn't sure until now... Yes... here. The Island has always kept ten mages in residence upon it. No more, no less. That way, it and its inhabitants are protected, but the wizards are never powerful enough to take over. This is the record of the mages of Otter Island." She flipped through the thick pages. There were drawings of every magic user the Island had since the otters began living there. There was Gralk the Flier, Zimbro the Telekinetic, and Moporo the Charm Collector. All the great mages of the past were listed. And in the back of the book, more familiar faces. Linda the Herbalist, Sam the Conjurer, and last of all, their mystery otter. Beneath the drawing, in Islandish letters, was the name "Oren".

"No one has noticed this until now?" said Sayna.

"I don't think anyone COULD notice it until now. I don't even think the Island knew about this, but that its subconscious mind was reaching out to all of us in our dreams. It was difficult even for me to remember this book existed. If it hadn't been for Tad the toymaker wanting to give gifts to all the mages and being unable to remember the one, I might never have been able to force myself to find it. Every time I tried, my eyes wanted to skip over it."

"What could be doing this?"

"Nexicul," said Blalok. "That's why I saw rotten roots."

"But I thought Nexicul couldn't come here," said Tak.

"He can't. But if someone isn't careful, he can be given some influence. Perhaps a wish which he twisted to his ends."

"That's it," said Sayna.

"How do you know that?" inquired Tak.

"I don't know, but I'm sure of it. A twisted wish is what did it. That's why he's gone."

"Is he still alive?" asked Blalok.

"I think so," said Dreen. "Otherwise, the Island's subconscious wouldn't be dropping clues about him."

There was a moment of silence until Blalok said what everyone was thinking. "How on Earth do we find him if all memory of him has been erased?"

"There is one possibility," said Dreen as she unfolded a map. "Beyond the nageel kingdoms is a cavern. Within that cavern is Sention, the titan of perception. Oberon banished him to our dimension long ago, and he's been dormant in that cave ever since. He doesn't like to be disturbed, but he has a special affinity with the Island. If she's in trouble, he may be willing to help."

Sayna thanked her, took the map, and left.

* * *

Xor had a great deal of trouble going to sleep, but sleep came at last. In his dreams, he was standing on a high hill overlooking his newest kingdom, the dry land that had once belonged to the otters. He was enjoying the dream very much when he was woken by a light. Squinting against it, he could barely make out the form of a humanoid standing at the foot of his bed. Xor immediately rose up into the water to defend himself.

"Peace, friend," said the stranger. "I am not here to harm you."

As Xor's eyes adjusted to the light, he was able to make out the intruder more clearly. She had the general shape of a humanoid, and was dressed in a long, flowing, white gown. But that was where any similarity to humans ended. Her head was that of a horse, and her hands and feet, hooves. Upon her back, a pair of white wings, and from around her head came a brilliant light which Xor found so distressing. "I am Kroya," said the stranger. "And I am here to help you!"

"GUARD!" cried the emperor. Kroya did not move as a burly nageel guard swam through the door. "Sire?" said the guard. "Is something wrong?"

Emperor Xor grimaced, an expression nearly lost on his eel face. Could this dunderhead really be unaware of the intruder? Xor jerked his muzzle in Kroya's direction several times. "That!" he muttered.

"Your majesty, I see nothing."

Kroya smiled, unnerving Xor.

"Piranha," said Xor. "They're gone now. Swam out the window. Take a team and make sure there are no more in these waters."

The guard seemed incredulous. Why would an Atlantic river fish be in the middle of the Pacific Ocean? Nevertheless, one did not correct the emperor. "As you wish, your Majesty."

As the guard left, Kroya asked, "Finished?"

"What do you want with me?" asked Xor. "Who are you? And why is your head so bloiting bright?"

"So many questions," said the spirit. "I am Kroya, the Spirit of Christmas Past. I am here to help you, and I shine with the light of truth. Truth is why I am here."

"I have nothing to do with Christmas," said Xor. "It is not something the nageel have."

"That may change. Please, come with me."

"And if I don't?"

"Then you have no hope of ever being reunited with Jipuna."

That was enough. Xor held out his hand to the outstretched hoof of the spirit. In a moment, they were whisked away.

* * *

Sayna was busily loading food and fresh water into her boat. She had turned around to grab some blankets when she heard an unexpected thud. Someone had thrown a sack of fruit in with her supplies. Upon further inspection, she found Tak, and walking up behind him was Blalok. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"We're coming with you," said Tak.

"Guys, this is going to be dangerous. I'm going to be sailing right over the nageel." 

"All the more reason to have a few friends to watch your back," Blalok responded.

"Tak, Blalok, I don't know when I'm going to be back. I could be out there for years, for all I know. I don't intend to come home until I've found..." the name was already slipping from her memory.

"Oren," Tak interjected. He'd rubbed orange oil on the back of his hand to keep himself from forgetting.

"Look, he's our friend too," said Blalok. "...Apparently. All of us have had the dreams. The other farmers can take care of Tak's fruit and my fish while we're gone, just like your sports team can manage without you. There's a better chance of success if the three of us go together. We're coming."

Sayna couldn't argue. "All right, then," she surrendered as she pushed the loaded boat into the water.

* * *

Xor watched with a stone face as his younger self and a young Jipuna walked along side-by-side upon the sandbar. Both were in human form, both naked and unashamed. They would be in severe trouble if anyone, otter or nageel, knew they were here. Their nightly walks in the moonlight were a guilty pleasure, yet Xor could only think of how innocent he was back then. Just children, not yet burdened with the evils of real life. As they walked along, Jipuna saw a fish. It had been caught in a tidepool that was drying out. Unable to swim, it was slowly suffocating in the air.

"You poor thing!" cooed Jipuna as she picked it up and began to carry it back to the water.

Young Xor seemed puzzled. "Why do you do that?" he asked.

"Because it's the right thing to do," said the girl.

"My father says the strong should never rescue the weak. It only makes them weaker."

"Well, your father is wrong!" Jipuna chided.

"Jipuna!" hissed Xor, being careful to keep his voice down. "You can't contradict the emperor!"

"Yes, I can, because he's wrong! Everyone is weak some time, Xor. We should have compassion for one another. Helping those in need makes us all stronger, not weaker."

Young Xor just stood and thought.

"You go your father's way if you want to," said Jipuna. "I choose to be merciful."

Xor almost said something, but there was a noise. An otter was approaching the sandbar. The children knew they would be killed if they were discovered, so they slipped into the water and turned back into eels.

"Such a soft-hearted, silly girl," said the present Xor.

"You didn't always think so," said Kroya.

"I was also a mush-headed youth," Xor derided himself.

"That might explain what followed in your later years," said the spirit. She waved her hoof and brought the two of them closer to the present. The setting was the royal palace. Xor remembered this day well. The main hall was full of females of every variety. African, Polynesian, Oriental and European features were mixed with the forms of conger eels, moray eels, wolf eels and more. All of them were striking in their beauty. On the other end of the hall floated a teenage Xor, and next to him, his father, the emperor.

"The time has come to pick a wife," said his father. "These are the finest females that the empire has to offer, and marriage to any one of them will help strengthen the loyalty of the other kingdoms."

Xor watched his younger self survey the assembled women. "You," the prince said to one who was a lovely black woman with the features of a zebra moray. "You are on the beach and come across a turtle flipped onto its back. What do you do?"

"Make soup, I suppose," said the female with a giggle.

Young Xor pointed to an oriental conger nageel. "You, same question."

The girl looked nervously at the emperor. "Leave it," she answered. "It's best to let nature take its course."

To a red-headed wolf eel, "How do you feel about the poor?"

"A valuable resource," she replied. "Poverty makes one willing to do anything for pay, including suffer and die for the empire."

It only took a few more questions before Xor was thoroughly disgusted. "I want none of these, father!" The females bristled but dare not act offended.

"Then what female do you want?"

"I want Jipuna."

The emperor scowled. "Jipuna is a nobody. Marriage to her will not help your position at all."

"I want Jipuna as my wife."

"Enough," said his father. "Pick one of these and no more nonsense."

But prince Xor did not back down. "I am to be emperor one day. If I do not stand by my decision, then I am weak and not fit to be emperor at all. I will have Jipuna, and if I cannot, then I am not fit to take the crown."

The emperor regarded his son for a long while, then smiled. "Let it be as you say."

* * *

Far, far away, a man sat at a table and drew. His pencil glided across the paper, creating beautiful greyscale scenes of a land far, far away. In his picture, an otter lay sleeping in the snow beneath a Christmas tree, waiting for Santa Claus to arrive. Another otter emerged from her hole to cover her friend with a quilt. In the distance, the silhouette of a large mountain with a waterfall streaming from the top marked the location unmistakably as Otter Island. The man sighed to himself. If only such a place were real...

* * *

Xor and Kroya stood on the shore of Otter Island as the morning sun rose over the sea. "Normally, we would be invisible, intangible and inaudible," said the spirit. "But I think that in this case, a change of pace is called for."

"Are you insane?" said Xor. "I am nageel. Even if I take human form, the otters will smell what I am. They'll kill me at the first whiff."

"Not today," said Kroya. She waved her hoof, and in an instant, both of them were transformed.

Xor looked down in horror at his body. It was neither eel nor man, but furry and stout with webbed hands and feet. "You've turned me into one of THEM!" he hissed.

Kroya, who was now a golden-furred cape clawless otter, giggled. "Indeed I did. For if I did not, what you see would be forever colored by your prejudices. You must learn to see through the eyes of your enemy."

"No! This is intolerable. I refuse!"

"As you wish. I shall return to the Heavens, then, and leave you here, in the past, in an otter's body."

Xor pouted. "Fine," he hissed. "Lead on."

It was mere days before Christmas. Otters were bustling about, decorating their homes, hanging baubles on trees, making gifts for one another, cooking food of every variety. Some of it smelled rather good. Out of sheer curiosity, he bent over a pot of something savory smelling.

"Want to try some?" asked a greymuzzled otter wearing spectacles.

Xor almost did a doubletake. He'd already known that the otters had harnessed the power of fire, something unavailable in his underwater empire, but glasses? Why did a hairy beast have glasses? Putting the thought aside, he accepted. The food was a delicious stew with slightly fruity overtones. The warmth as it slid down his throat was an amazing sensation.

"That was fantastic," said Xor. "What was it?"

"Eel bouillabaisse," replied the cook. Xor coughed and sputtered at the thought of eating what might have been a distant relative. The cook gave him a mug of liquid to soothe his cough. Xor took a huge swig. It was astounding. 

"What is this?" he asked.

"Just apple cider," said the otter with the glasses.

"It's the most fantastic thing I ever tasted."

"You must be new here. Hi, My name's Glerk."

"I'm Kroya," said the spirit. "This is Xor,"

The disguised emperor winced. What was the point of being in disguise if she was just going to tell everyone his name?

"So," said Glerk. "I take it otters don't have fire where you come from."

"I can honestly say they don't."

"Well, then, you're in for a treat. I have to introduce you to Yeex, right over here, who's making candied chestnuts." Glerk happily showed Xor all around the marketplace, pointing out all the best goodies, treating the disguised nageel as if he were a long-lost brother. And for the first time in years, Xor began to feel truly happy.

* * *

Tak rose from the water and sprang into the boat. "It's quiet down there," he reported.

"Any nageel nearby?" asked Sayna.

"Not a one!" Tak proclaimed. "I can see three of their kingdoms from here, and every single one of them is dark. Not a single nageel is stirring."

"Good news for us," noted Blalok.

"I don't like it," said Sayna. "It's always bad when things are this quiet."

"You think they're up to something?" asked Tak.

"Yes. But there's not much we can do either way. Let's just thank God and keep sailing."

* * *

Xor had completely forgotten that he hated the otters. He was having such a grand time as one of them, filling up his belly with so many tasty treats, he almost forgot that he wasn't an otter himself. Around his neck hung a funny little bauble on a necklace- a tiny stone otter nestled between two scallop shells.  Glerk had given it to him as a welcome present.  As he walked along with Kroya, he asked, "Spirit, I keep seeing these trees decorated with shiny baubles and strings of berries and such. Do they mean something?"

"They do. The evergreen tree is a symbol of eternal life."

"Eternal life? But nothing lives forever."

"You realize you're talking to a spirit."

"Touche."

Kroya and Xor wandered all about; Xor marveling at all the customs and decorations, and Kroya explaining the significance of every one. Everywhere they went, the otters greeted them with warm embraces and cheers of "Merry Christmas!" It was almost noon when they came upon what Xor thought a very odd scene indeed. There were statues of humans and livestock animals within a crude lean-to. They were all standing around, staring at something. Xor walked up to get a better look. The thing they were staring at was a feeder full of hay, and right in the middle of it, a human baby.

"Kroya, what does this mean?" he asked.

"It is the meaning of Christmas," replied the spirit.

"I don't understand."

"Christmas. The gathering to worship Christ, the Chosen One. The One I serve. This time is a celebration of His birth. He was born in a stable, among animals, just like this."

"Chosen One? Chosen for what?"

"To save the world."

Xor was intrigued. This Baby must have grown up to be some mighty warrior. "Go on," he said.

"It was He who created the world. He created all people to live in peace and love. But they went astray. They cut themselves off from Him by becoming cruel and sinful. So, He became a human, born in this way, to become the Teacher who would bring truth and light to the world."

"Oh," said Xor, sounding a little disappointed, and not really believing any of it.

"And to purchase the redemption of all peoples with His blood."

"Wait... what? Surely you mean with the blood of His enemies."

"No. His own. He took the punishment of death in the world's place. Look around you. You see how red and green are so abundant in these decorations? Red is for the blood of the Christ. Green is for the life which His blood secures."

Xor stared at the Baby in the manger. This was the otters' God? And He voluntarily died? He pondered whether he could do such a thing to save his own people, especially if they had betrayed him. He finally concluded that he could not. "So they worship a dead God?" he said at last.

"Not at all. Our God defeated death, and is very much alive."

Xor shook his head. "It is beyond belief," he said.

"Says the were-eel, standing on a sentient island, in the body of an otter, talking to a spirit."

Whatever Xor would have said next, it was interrupted by screaming. A nageel raiding party was coming ashore. And leading the charge was a very zealous Prince Xor.

"No, NO!" Said Xor the otter. "Xor, stop! You mustn't..." But he was cut short as the end of a staff hit him across the chest, sending him flying. Of course he wouldn't listen to an otter! Xor lay helplessly trying to catch his breath as the nageel rushed into the village and began killing otters.

"Why did you do it?" asked Kroya.

"Sacred... duty..." Xor huffed and wheezed. "Our ancestors... taught us..."

"That Otter Island was meant for the nageel, and that it was your job to take it from the otters."

Xor could only nod.

The tide of battle was quickly turning. The coastal patrol had arrived and was driving Xor and his surviving soldiers back into the sea. Otter Xor could only watch. when he was sufficiently recovered to get up and walk, the devastation was terrible. Homes lay in ruin. Christmas trees were engulfed in flames. The bodies of the slain, both otter and nageel, littered the ground. And right in the middle of it was a newly widowed female wailing aloud at the death of her husband. Xor's blood ran cold as he saw that the slain husband was none other than Glerk, the otter who had showed him such kindness that day.

"I'm... I'm sorry," said Xor weakly.

The female looked at him through eyes clouded with tears. "It's not your fault," she sobbed. But he knew full well that it was, and that fact stabbed him through the heart. "The nageel did this. And they are going to pay for it."

* * *

Sayna, Blalok, and Tak beached their boat on a small island in front of an entrance to a large cavern.

"Are we sure this is it?" asked Tak.

"This is where the map said to go," said Blalok. "And if what I've heard is at all accurate, Sention already knows we're here."

The otters walked with some trepidation into the cavern. The floor of the cave was dominated by a gigantic, deep pool. "Sention?" called Tak. "Are you home?"

The thing which rose up in the middle of the pool was enormous and bizarre. It didn't have a recognizable face so much as a mass of sensory organs, including eyes, ears, noses, tongues, antennae, whiskers, and quite a few parts which none of the otters could even identify.

"Stop shouting," the creature moaned. I heard you coming before you left your island. Why do you disturb my slumber?"

Blalok couldn't help but ask, "What is it with titans and slumber? I mean, you sleep for thousands of years, but as soon as someone wakes you up, it's, 'who disturbs my slumber?'"

Tak cringed. "Blalok, don't antagonize him."

Sention chuckled. "A valid point," he said in a soft voice. "When Oberon had us imprisoned within our various dimensions, he was worried about the damage we might do locally, so he put us all under a sedation spell. Personally, I am not complaining. I like the peace and quiet. That's two questions. You have one left."

"Wait... we only get... I mean you never said anything about having only three questions," said Blalok.

"Relax. I'm only joking. I know why you're here. You want to find your friend, the one missing from your memories."

Sayna reacted with surprise. She'd already begun to forget that this was her mission. "That's right. Do you know where to find him?"

"No."

"No? But you're the titan of perception!" Tak cried.

"Keep your voice down! The spell that blocks your memories works on the conscious mind. That includes mine. But the subconscious mind is not so easily fooled. He will be searching for you on a subconscious level."

"So how do we find him?" asked Sayna.

"There is someone who can help you. Find the circuit."

"The circuit?" Blalok echoed. "Who or what is the circuit?"

"You'll see." A tentacle snaked out of the water with a small bottle. "Here. Rub this on the prow of your boat. It will invoke sprite magic. Your boat will travel where it needs to go quickly, and time is of the essence. Now go. Find the circuit."

"How will we know when we find it?" asked Sayna, but Sention was already sinking back into the water. Clearly, he'd had enough interaction for today.

* * *

Xor floated in the palace garden. Before him was Jipuna, and in her arms, baby Farron. Xor was once again his old nageel self, but was also once again invisible and intangible. "Do not make me watch this," he ordered Kroya.

"It is necessary," said the horse. 

Jipuna looked in the direction of the island. "I hope your father comes back soon," she told her baby. "I miss him when he's gone. And I wish he wouldn't keep starting fights. Those otters didn't do anything to us. But he insists it's his 'sacred duty'. You won't be like that? Will you, Farron? You'll be a good boy. Kind and merciful like your mother, won't you?"

"Aghee!" cooed the baby prince in agreement.

"Spirit, do not make me watch this!" Xor demanded.

In a moment, Xor's younger self came swimming into the garden. "Darling!" called Jipuna.

"Leave me alone," the younger Xor grouched.

"Bad day?"

"We were thrashed," said the prince. "We lost eight men, including Jargo, Longfang, and Shrax."

"Oh, my. Xor..."

"I said leave me alone. I'm going to my private chambers."

"At least visit with your son. He hasn't seen you all day."

Xor did take Farron in his arms, though present-day Xor remembered that he would only pass him off to a servant in a few minutes on his way to go sulk and pout.

Almost as soon as Xor and Farron had gone, a small creature swam into the garden. Xor recognized her as the widow of Glerk, his slain friend. The otter saw Jipuna, wearing her tiara that marked her as the crown princess. In a flash, the otter was upon her, sinking her teeth into Jipuna's neck. She never even had time to scream. The guards rushed in as soon as they smelled blood in the water, but by then, it was too late. Her spirit gone, the lifeless body slowly shrank to the form of a common eel. Xor screamed in rage and agony.

And when he stopped, the emperor found himself back in his bedchamber.

"Nightmare," he told himself. "That's all it was." Yet he could not help but stare at the spot where the spirit had stood.

* * *

Blalok, Tak and Sayna had been sailing for only a few minutes when they came into a thick fog that appeared out of nowhere. The fog vanished as quickly as it had come, and the otters found themselves on the shore of an island that looked green and inviting. It had been nighttime when they set sail, but the sun was shining brightly now. Either they had somehow sailed instantly into a distant time zone, or...
A glance at the moon confirmed what Blalok was thinking. "This is a different world," he said. "Look how big the moon is, and with very different features."

Sayna pulled the boat up to a dock and secured it there. There was a sign a short way inland, and with the magic of Otter Island still on them, they were able to read it.

"Welcome to Zizi's Island" it said.

"I recognize this place," said Blalok. "I've seen it in a dream."

"I've read about this place," said Sayna. "But I thought it was spelled x-i-x-i."

A friendly pig came wandering up. "Hello, friends! Are you new here? It looks like you just got here, but you've already turned into animals, so you must have been here a while. Hi, name's Hrano."

"I'm Sayna. That's Tak and this is Blalok. We're looking for a friend of ours."

"Or a circuit," added Tak.

"A wizard," clarified Blalok. "I don't suppose you've seen him."

"If it's a wizard you're after, there's only one place to be looking. That's master Vohon's place, up yonder. About an hour's walk from here."

"We'd better start walking, then. I don't suppose you'd mind showing us the way?"

"I'd be delighted!" said the pig. "Lovely day for a stroll!"

Hrano made chit-chat the entire way, though in truth, it was mostly him chitting and not much chatting in response. "So what were you folks before you came here? Me, I was a human. Half dwarf, actually, but I was tall enough that it didn't make no difference. I was a farmhand, originally. Raised hogs, I did. beautiful creatures. I always kind of envied 'em their life of luxury, wallowing in the mud and eating to their heart's content. I said to myself 'Hrano, you ought to be a pig.' and I had to agree with myself, now didn't I? So I came to Zizi's Island and before two days are up, I'm a pig, grand and gorgeous. So how about yourselves?"

"We're otters," said Sayna.

"Well, I can see that. And a lovely set of otters you are, mind you, but I mean before you were otters."

"Before we were otters, we were fetuses," replied Tak.

"We've always been otters," said Blalok. "Unless you count that one unfortunate episode with the dandeskunks and the charm shop."

"Always been? Naaaaw. Really? Well, you must not be from this world, then. Master Vohon, he comes from a world of talking animals. He's a raccoon, you see. Only he ain't a raccoon no more. He's a bird, now, at least when he's here. He goes to being a raccoon again when he's off the island. Hey, look over there! It's Mrs. Partridge! She was an actual partridge the first time she lived here. Then she left to get married and came back. She must've developed a thing for porcupines being that's what she is this time around, and her husband done became a horse. Now there's a bunch of stories I could tell you and no mistake."

"Does everyone who comes to this island change somehow?" asked Blalok.

"Oh, yeah. Take Mr. Redleaf over there. That's him, the beaver with the stocking cap. He used to be an elf."

"How long does it usually take?"

"Oh, depends on the case-by-case it does. Usually a few days, but sometimes its quicker, especially if you've been magicked recently."

Tak paused. "Guys?" he said, staring at his hand. The fingers were getting longer and longer. His tail became tiny and his ears became huge. Tak was transforming into a bat.

"A fruit bat! That is so you, Tak!" Blalok laughed.

"Yeah, very funny. Don't laugh so hard, Blalok. You're next."

Actually, it was Sayna who was next. The hairy-nosed otter changed into a German shepherd, while Blalok, a bit later on, became a goat. They all had a merry time poking fun at each other, but soon were focused on their mission once again. 

Blalok the goat turned to his friends. "The person we're about to meet is centuries old," he informed them. "And he is the absolute ruler of this island, equal in rank to King Mijbil. Be very respectful. Do not speak unless spoken to. Don't take any liberties. Don't look him directly in the eye. Don't sit down. Just... don't do anything."

Hrano entered the wizard's hut without knocking. "Yo, Vohon! Got some friends for you to meet. I'm just gonna get myself a bowl of coffee if you don't mind. I know you always got some extra. This here's Sayna, Tak, and... don't tell me. Bladelock."

"Blalok."

"Right, right. Anyways, I'm just gonna have me a sit down over here and look at some of your books. You don't mind, do you?"

At the far end of the hut, sitting on a nest as though it were a throne, was an aged robin. "Welcome," he said. "My, my. A trio of otters. I hope you're finding my island hospitable."

The trio were amazed. "How did you know we were otters?"

The robin chuckled as he stood up and exited the nest. "I know because I'm Vohon, master wizard of transformation. I notice the clues. The first thing that gave you away was your walk. You move both front legs and both back legs at the same time, and you flex your back. You also hold your tails straight out behind you. That's the walk of a mustelid. There are other clues I could name, but I gather you didn't come to talk about those."

"We're looking for someone," said Sayna. "We think he might have been your pupil."

"My pupil? I don't... say, do you mind if I slip into something a little more comfortable?" The trio shook their heads. Vohon put a string around his neck with a small, wooden bead on it. The bird was rapidly transformed into a raccoon. "Reverse wood," said the raccoon. "Nullifies the Island's transformation. I've only got the one necklace, unfortunately." He stretched and his bones creaked. "Where was I? Oh yes. I don't remember having a pupil."

"Oh," said Tak.

"And that makes absolutely no sense. I'm older than dirt. I can't keep going forever, so why would a smart guy like me not have an apprentice who would become the next master magician? Absolute balderdash. I know there's some spell at work here, and I want to know what it is."

"His name is..." Sayna started to say. What was his name again?

"Sounds like Orange," said Tak. "Ranj...ifer? I can't think..."

"Oren," said Blalok. "His name was Oren."

"Ah... That does help," said Vohon. "Tell me as much as you can about him." The wizard set about tinkering with some magical items.

"He looked like..." Sayna tried to remember the face, but in her mind, it was just a blur.

"He looked like someone else," said Blalok.

"Like Sam!" Tak remembered. But without the eyebrows."

"Good. Good. Any details at all. The more we have, the better this will work."

The trio described Sam in great detail, leaving out the eyebrows and ever-present hat. 

"Good, good. Now do we know who hexed him? It had to be someone very powerful, like Gos, or Shin. Perhaps Selv."

"Nexicul," said Blalok.

Vohon's eyes became wide. "Nexicul, you say! That is frightening. And fortuitous."

"How so?"

The raccoon wizard rummaged through a cupboard. "I believe I still have... yes... here it is. A twig from Nexicul's tree. He gave me this a long, long time ago, back when he was good. Now it may serve us as we seek to undo his curse. Everyone, touch the twig. Not you, Hrano. You can sit and drink your coffee. Think as hard as you can about our friend." He uttered a few strange words, then touched the reverse wood necklace to the twig. There was an explosion of air as the energy of the curse was released.

"Oh my gosh! I remember him!" cried Sayna. "He always came to my games even though he said he hated sports. He was always so messy, yet he was always fussing about and cleaning whenever we would visit."

"He was from Kakooa," said Blalok. "Technically was descended from humans. He adopted a daughter. A living doll who turned out to be the queen of the Hundredth Vale."

"Had a fascination with reindeer," Tak recalled. "And he really loved apricots."

"He was a cat," said Vohon. "When he was here, I mean. Brilliant student. Bit of a hothead, though."

"That's him!" said Sayna. "I can't believe we would ever forget him!"

Vohon sat down, his muscles already sore from the small amount of work he had done. "That's the first step. You know who he is now. But you have to find out where he is and what he is."

"But how?" asked Blalok.

"Sention told us to look for the Circuit," said Tak. "Whatever that means."

"Circuit?" echoed Vohon, rubbing his chin. "A loop of electrical current? That is a curious thing. If you go anyplace inhabited by humans, you'll find circuits everywhere."

Hrano piped up. "Maybe that ain't what he meant, if you don't mind this old pig putting in his two cents worth."

"What do you mean?"

"Wasn't there a fellow used to live around here, had a name like that? I think he was a wolf or some sort of dog. Anyway, I think he called himself circuit on account of that were his nickname as a boy."

"Not circuit!" Vohon exclaimed. "Serkit, short for Serval kitten! Yes, he was only here a few weeks. Came from Kakooa as well if I recall correctly. Decided he wanted to live someplace better suited to his massive brain. I think I have his gate address written down somewhere." The wizard removed his necklace and transformed back into a bird. "Take this and the twig. You'll need them."

And as the dog, the goat and the bat gathered information on their next goal, Emperor Xor slept fitfully.

* * *

Far, far away, the man who had been drawing could not sleep. He chalked it up to Christmas eve excitement, but there was something more. Getting onto the internet, he chatted with one of his friends. Like him, she was an artist. She drew a webcomic in which she depicted herself as an anteater, in much the same way he depicted himself as an otter in his. The two of them kept each other company in the wee hours of the morning. Neither one of them ever expected that, thanks to a bit of magical engineering by a clever technician, they were talking to each other from different dimensions. If they had, the man might have begun to realize that the life he knew wasn't really his.

* * *

Emperor Xor was startled awake by the sound of music. Light shone from around the edges of his closet door. This was particularly odd because he did not have a closet door. The door was on an external wall, and when Xor stuck his head out the window, the plain wall confirmed that this new door did not exist on the other side. Yet there it was, with light and music spilling out all around it. Feeling a fear not normal for a nageel emperor, Xor reached for the handle and opened it. Beyond was a room festively decorated with Christmas trees, garland, mistletoe, and holly, and a feast that was not to be believed. Sitting at the table and enjoying the repast were people of every variety. Humans, otters, nageel, astruchin, dryads, harpies, monsters, night mares, scalbions, ogres, elves, all sitting together, dining in harmony. And at the head of the table, looking straight at Xor, was an imposing figure indeed. He stood at least eight feet tall. He was dressed in a heavy, furred robe of scarlet with white trim. A wreath of holly sat upon his head—the head of a reindeer. Like Kroya, this being had large, white wings and a bright halo around his head. With his hand, or rather, hoof, he beckoned the emperor closer. Xor swam forward and soon became aware that although he was swimming, the room was not filled with water, but air. Xor changed into a man and continued on foot.  His customary toga appeared upon his body, as well as his crown.  "Welcome!" said the creature. "Please, come and join us!" There were several empty seats at the table. Xor made for one near the head. 

A nearby kitsune put a paw on his arm. "Word of advice," she said. "Pick a seat lower down, so that you may be asked to move up, rather than a higher seat, and be asked to move down."

Xor scowled at the kitsune and sat down near the head of the table. "So who are you supposed to be?" asked Xor.

The entire table fell silent for just a moment, then erupted in laughter. "Now, now then!" said the reindeer. "Mister Xor is joining us for the first time this year. Remember what it was like for each of you when you first met me."

"Friend," said an Ogre. "That's Tempus, the Spirit of Christmas Present."

"I should have known. And the rest of you?"

"These are the many friends I have made in previous years," said Tempus. Allow me to introduce them. Uquani Gorth, Tralia Muris, Rover McGaynes, Ebenezer Scrooge, Mabel Wright, Frank Cross, Rhett McFarlane, Sarah Jurgens, Braq Glumplic Freen, John Lackland, Plastica 9401, Linda Elgon..."

Xor ran his eyes down the table. He knew some of these people. They were historic figures, renowned for their cruelty as dictators, criminals, unscrupulous businessmen. Even in the nageel kingdoms, their infamy preceded them. Yet these people were all long dead. How could this be? It was utter madness.

"I am sorry, my dear friends," said Tempus. "But it is time for me to go to work." There was a round of "awwww's". "This I must do, else our guest will not be joining us again next year. Come, Xor. Take my hoof."

"Where are we going?" asked the nageel, almost in defiance.

"To Christmas morning, of course!" The reindeer waved his free hoof and the scene changed. Gone was the feast and the guests. Instead, they stood in the middle of a human city. Snow was falling as people bustled back and forth. The windows were all brightly decorated, and the shops played merry tunes over their loudspeakers.

"I take it we are invisible," said Xor.

"Indeed we are. You learn quickly."

"A lot of very busy people here," Xor remarked.

"Yes. But I want you to pay attention to one in particular. Look at that man, right over there."

Xor would not have seen him if Tempus had not pointed him out. The man was ragged and dressed in ratty, dirty clothes far too thin to keep out the cold.

"That is John Harlan," said the spirit. "He was a brilliant engineer who made marvelous machines for a living. Last year, his company was purchased by a larger corporation which decided it did not need his services. Since then, he has lost his home, his family, and all his worldly possessions."

"If he's so brilliant, why has he been unable to find work?" said Xor. "That makes no sense."

"Having superb skills does not automatically make one employable. There have been no opportunities for him. There is a recession in effect and jobs are scarce. But look."

A woman came along and sat down on the bench where John Harlan was sitting. "You look like you could use this," she said. From a bag, she produced a lovely quilted blanket and gave it to the man. He was exceedingly grateful. She also handed him a cup of hot coffee. The two of them sat and talked. Tempus smiled. He raised his hoof and in it appeared a blazing silver torch. He walked over and stood before the poor man and the generous woman, and from his torch, he poured fire upon them. It did not burn them, but seemed to sink in and fill them with warmth. Soon, both of them were laughing.

"How did you do that?" asked Xor.

"Christmas joy," replied Tempus. "I spread it wherever I can, especially on those who do good works."

"You must run out fairly quickly."

"Not at all!" Tempus laughed. "For people like these, they are the source of my power! The more joy I spread, the more I receive from them!"

Xor shook his head. "Utter madness," he muttered.

"Is it now? Kroya told me about the joy you experienced with her. Think about that morning, when you arrived in a strange land and a stranger with nothing to your name but a borrowed body, and the kindness and welcome that was shown to you."

There was no way Xor could NOT think about it now. And as the thought, the spirit poured some of his fire upon him. It sank deep into his skin and found its way into his heart. Then it bubbled up as laughter. The emperor could not help but smile. Not the wicked smile of a conqueror, but the sincere smile of one experiencing true kindness. Muscles he had not used in many years were pushed to their limit as laughter exploded from him. It hurt to feel this good, and the laughter was soon mixed with tears. So many years devoid of this joy. So many years wasted. Now that he had tasted it, he never wanted it to stop.

"Come, my fishy friend," said Tempus. "I have much, much more to show you."

And he did. He took the nageel across not only his own world, but many others, and everywhere they went, Tempus spread his joy, and the fire both in his torch, and within Xor's heart, grew ever brighter.

* * *

It had been less than an hour since they'd left Zizi's Island. The three otters had resumed their normal appearances. There had been no need to take the boat through Oberon's gate, since the magic which Sention had given them took the boat right where it needed to go. At least, it took them as far as the shore. It was night once again, and a small town in some equivalent of California was where they found themselves.

"How do we find him?" asked Tak. "He could be anywhere."

"I guess we walk around," said Sayna. "Look for a serval."

"What even IS a serval?" Tak asked.

"A type of cat," Blalok answered. "Big ears, spots, stripes down its back, shortish tail."

Tak looked around. There were plenty of cats around, but none matching that description.

It must have been two hours that the otters roamed the streets, blindly searching for a serval, when one finally approached them. "Excuse me, are you lost?" he said.

Sayna almost laughed from the relief she felt. "Serkit, I presume."

"Yes. Scott Serkit. How do you know my name? Are you from Zizi's Island? And if so, why are you still otters?"

"We're from Otter Island, and we need your help."

"Follow me." Scott took the otters to his home. Technically, it belonged to a family of humans he was living with, but an entire room of the house was his, and inside it was an impressive bank of electronics. Sayna had been explaining the situation along the way, but when she saw Scott's room, all three of them fell silent in awe. "Yeah, it is pretty amazing, isn't it?"

"What does it do?" asked Tak.

"This is where everything comes together," said Scott.

"What do you mean?" inquired Blalok.

"I mean the entire multiverse is connected through this room. This was my lifelong dream, but I never could have accomplished it without the help of human technology. Lots of dimensions have their own internet, but here, I've combined technology and magic to create a hub through which ALL internets are connected. People in Insectivore City can talk to people in the elflands instantly! Every world in the multiverse that has an internet is connected to every other world through this very room."

"Can you help us?" asked Sayna. "Can you find our friend?"

The feline sat down at a terminal. "What's his name again?"

"Oren," said Sayna.

"Last name?"

"He doesn't have one. Just... Otter."

The cat's claws started typing. "There's actually a lot of results for that. What else can you tell me?"

"He was a storyteller," said Tak.

"And a wizard of transformation," Blalok added.

"And a bit of a comic," said Sayna.

Scott added those words to the search. "Oren Otter transformation story comic." The search was remarkably effective. It led to a webcomic titled "The Changing Workplace", in which a human man found himself changed into an otter.

"That's him," said Sayna, pointing to the comic strips. "That's our friend!"

A little poking around the site brought up a name and address for the author. It did not say which world he was in, but that was not a problem. Scott was able to trace the IP address and pinpoint the proper dimension.

"Thank you so much, Scott!" said Sayna. "We can never repay you for this."

"Hang on just a moment," said the serval. "Where we're going, we need to have collars if we don't want to get picked up by animal control."

"What do you mean 'where we're going'?"

"I mean I'm coming too."

"But why?"

"Your friend is under a memory curse. You need someone who's got the knowledge of both magic and data recovery. That's me."

Sayna accepted the offer, hope burning brightly within her. She never saw the spirit who poured fire upon her.

* * *

Xor watched curiously as the otters' boat appeared from a fog in a shallow river. They beached the boat and climbed out of the river onto a highway. In the distance stood a small farming town. It would be about a two-mile hike, so the otters and the serval set off at once.

"They're going through a lot of trouble for one otter," Xor noted.

"Such is the power of friendship," said Tempus. "To them, any one of them is as important as the entire world, and they would brave Hell itself to bring back one who was lost. Is there no one you feel that way about?"

Xor hung his head. "Not any longer."

"Oh, I don't think that's quite true. I can see how your love for Jipuna still burns brightly. You long to have her in your arms again, and so you shall, if you heed all that we tell and show you this night."

Xor and Tempus followed the search party into the town, the spirit's torch invisibly illuminating their path, not with the light of vision, but with the light of hope. The curse grew stronger as the group approached. Several times, they walked right past the house, unable to notice it until Tempus took Sayna's head in his hooves and gently turned it toward the correct address. Going to the door, the hairy-nosed otter rapped with her claws. After many long minutes, a light shone within. Sayna knocked again. The door opened. There stood a woman in a bathrobe staring down at these strange visitors. "You must be friends of Eric's," she said.

The lady of the house made warm drinks for everyone while they waited for her son to come upstairs from his place in the basement. Sayna explained as much as she could, but was having difficulty getting the story across. Finally, he entered, dressed in a blue bathrobe and moccasins. When he saw the furry animals in his living room, he was stunned.

"Oren?" asked Sayna.

"Sayna?" Oren responded. "Tak? Blalok? And I'm afraid I don't know you."

"I'm new," Scott explained.

"But how can you be here? You're not real. You're characters in my stories."

"They're not just stories," Sayna explained. "You've been writing about a place that really exists, but that you've forgotten."

"Do you know who you are?" asked Blalok.

"My name's Eric. B. Eric Vary."

"No! That's what you've been made to believe, but it's not who you are. Your name is Oren. You're an otter, and you're our friend."

The three otters explained at length how Oren, or Eric, had been targeted by Nexicul, and how Nexicul had twisted his wish to have a family by sending him far away to live with a human family and altering memories so that he believed he'd been a human all along.

"How long ago was this?" Oren asked.

"Three years."

"But... I've been living with this family for way more than three years."

Blalok shook his head. "False memories."

The elder Mister Vary scowled. "Do you mean to tell us that Eric isn't even our son?"

Tak stepped forward, stumbling as if some unseen hand had pushed him. "Don't think of it that way. I'm sure you love him and he loves you. You are family. It doesn't matter how that came about. It's true and it's always going to be true. But Oren has other people who love him, including a daughter who hasn't seen him in three long years. We don't want to take him from you. We just want to give him back what he had."

Scott held out the root and the reverse wood. "We can break the spell. Right here, right now. If you're willing."

Oren looked at his parents, then nodded.

"Everyone concentrate on Oren. Think about how he used to be, or if you don't remember that, about how he looks in his comics. The more people we have doing this, the better it will work." Scott touched the reverse wood to the root and spoke the magic words. There was a humming, accompanied by darkness and heat as the spell resisted. Each person in the room put a hand upon Scott as he fought against the spell.

Tempus poured out his fire upon everyone, then he, too, lay his hoof upon the serval, lending them the very strength of Christmas itself. Still, the spell fought, and the room became darker and hotter as the hum turned into a growl.

Xor watched all of this with a feeling he could not describe. His father's words echoed in his head. Mercy is wasted upon the weak. Compassion is useless. Then Jipuna's words came to him. It's the right thing to do. Everyone is weak at some point. Then came his own words. If I cannot stand by my choice, then I am not fit to lead. I choose Jipuna! Immediately, Xor knew what he had to do. Stepping forward, he placed his intangible hand within the serval's chest. He could feel magic being drained from him. His body was slowly becoming more eel-like as the seconds passed. Then suddenly, a boom, a burst of heat, and it all stopped. The light was back to normal. The air was cool. The hum was gone. Nexicul's curse had been destroyed, and laying on the floor, almost lost in his bathrobe, was Oren the Otter.

Emperor Xor stumbled a bit as he regained his footing. Tempus helped to steady him. "That curse might not have been broken if not for you," the spirit said. "There is a lot of magic in royalty. That is why the kiss of a princess may break even a powerful spell. The touch of an emperor with a sincere desire to help is nearly as strong as my own variety of power."

Xor still felt woozy, but as he watched Oren embrace his friends while his memories came flooding back, as well as the love his surrogate family expressed for him, he found himself rapidly regaining his strength, the fire which the spirit gave him earlier burning brighter than ever.

* * *

"There is one thing yet you must see," said the reindeer spirit as he led Xor onto the beach of Otter Island. The emperor smiled as the sun rose. Christmas morning on Otter island had been such a delight before. The thought of seeing another filled him with anticipation. That feeling turned into horror, however, as the rising sun illuminated a scene of devastation. The beach was littered with the bodies of otters and nageel. And for once, he did not see fallen enemies and spent weapons. He understood that every one of these fallen had been important to someone. Every one of them was someone's Glerk, someone's Oren, someone's Jipuna. And most horrifying of all, having barely gotten onto the beach, the bloodstained bodies of Tak, Blalok, Sayna, Scott, and Oren lay where they had fallen. 

"What is this?" demanded the emperor.

"This is Christmas morning!" said Tempus with false merriment. "And this is your Christmas gift to Otter Island. The fulfillment of your sacred duty. It's like this all over the island, and it's all thanks to you. What a magnificent potentate you are to create something so glorious!"

"No. NO!" cried Xor. "I thought this night was all about my reclamation, my conversion. Why did you show me all of this if it's too late to stop this?"

"Is it too late?" asked Tempus, cryptically. "Perhaps it is. My duties are done, and I must get back to my friends."

Xor knelt down to touch the body of the fallen wizard, only to discover that he was still intangible. "Don't leave me like this," he told the spirit.

"I'm afraid I must," said Tempus as he walked away, fading as he went.

"Spirit, I beg you, don't let it end this way! PLEASE!"

But Tempus was gone. The emperor was helpless. He could now only wander the island as a ghost, surveying the devastation and listening to the wails of the survivors. Before this night, such wailing would have been music to his ears. Today, he understood that the pain he inflicted was the same pain he felt when his wife had been taken from him. At last, his heart could bear it no longer. The nageel knelt on the ground, then collapsed and wept bitterly.

Xor had lapsed into a troubled sleep and was woken by the touch of a hand on his shoulder. He sat up, expecting to see his bedroom. No, he had not moved from his place of mourning. The hand belonged not to an otter or nageel, but to a cloaked, hooded figure. The hand itself was skeletal, as though belonging to the specter of death. The creature pulled back its hood, revealing a head that was merely a skull. Despite having no animate features, the skull, somewhat reptilian in appearance, looked upon Xor with pity. "Rise," it said in a deep, soothing voice.

"Are you the last of the spirits?" asked Xor.

"I am," it replied. "I am Merkor, Spirit of Christmas Yet To Come."

"What is the point?" said Xor, bitterly. "All is lost." He began to weep anew.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not," said the spirit. Again, it seemed to look upon the nageel with sympathy. "And perhaps this form is not what is called for right now." The spirit shimmered. Its form seemed to melt and flow into a new shape. This new form was that of a polar bear cub, small and fragile. "Normally, I'm all big and scary and dragon-like, and I don't talk much, but I like to switch it up a little bit sometimes." His childlike voice was endearing and disarming. "Please, come with me, your majesty. There is much still to learn."

Space seemed to warp around the nageel and the bear cub as they walked forward. In a moment, they were standing in the throne room of Avalon. Upon the throne sat a young, dark-haired sprite with a long, gaunt face. This was clearly not Oberon, but one of his twin sons. Beside the throne stood a wizard in crimson robes. As the two of them stood and watched invisibly, a man entered the room. He was a human. His clothes were filthy, and he was bent almost double, cowering in the king's presence. "President Nelson of Earth 2116," a guard announced.

"Mister President," said the sprite upon the throne. "Such an honor to make your acquaintance. What can I do for you today?"

"Sir, I came to speak to you about your tax collection," said the president, cowering and wringing his hands.

"Oh, is there a problem?"

"Oh, King Selv, live forever..."

"I will. Go on."

"The taxes are too high! The people of my planet are starving! There is not enough food to go around. If we continue to pay your taxes, we will perish! And if we perish, there will be nothing for you to collect!"

Selv smiled evilly and rubbed his chin. "You raise a valid point," he conceded. "I do not wish my subjects to starve. Never let it be said that King Selv has no compassion."

"Then you'll lower taxes?"

"Oh no. Taxes will remain as they are."

"But your majesty..."

"Rather, your people will be made able to survive on much less food. Malaku, you know what to do."

"Aye, Sire." The wizard raised his hands and chanted. The president convulsed in pain. His body shrank to almost nothing, then emerged from his dirty clothes as a small, helpless rat.

"There. All of your people can now get by on much less. You're welcome. And tell your fellow rats I'll be expecting a ten percent gratuity for performing this service." He chuckled to himself as the president scurried away as fast as his rat feet would carry him.

Xor was appalled. "How did he ever become king?" he asked the spirit.

"He gained control of the river of magic that runs through the multiverse," said the bear cub. "Doing so, he was able to threaten Nexicul with starvation and blackmail the dryad into becoming his slave. He then took over Avalon, slew his father and brother, and began taking over everything. He also revived the wizard Malaku from his horcrux to be his right-hand man. With all the magic of Avalon at his command, Malaku can cast spells over entire dimensions at a time."

"But surely there must have been someone who could have stopped him?"

"There would have been."

"The otter wizard."

"Yes. He would have prevented Selv from gaining control of a key dimension by turning him into a rock until he promised to leave it alone. Come. There is more."

Merkor took Xor to a world that had been devastated by battle. Tanks roamed freely and planes sped by overhead, looking for targets to bomb. In the distance, Xor could see a city being attacked by a giant spider. "What is that?" Xor asked fearfully. Even though he knew nothing could touch him, the sight still filled him with horror.

"That is Shin. One of Selv's generals. Also in his employ are Gos, Akhos, and Tchamuk."

"I know those names from mythology. They all hate each other."

"Yes. They were competing for parts to a machine that would give them unlimited power. Selv managed to unite them and assembled the machine himself."

"Could no one stand in their way?"

The bear took Xor's hand and began walking again. This time, they found themselves in a padded cell. Huddled in the corner was a humanoid anteater.

"Who is this?"

"Princess Fnaire. She would have been a key part of stopping Shin and the others, but she was tortured by the titan Strog for a thousand years in her dreams. There was one who would have protected her sanity, had your soldiers not killed him."

The mad princess looked straight at Xor. "I know you're there," she said. "You did this to me. You did this to all of us."

Xor backed away in a state of half-panic. "Enough, spirit. Take me away. I've seen enough. Take me home."

"As you wish," The cub took Xor's hand and walked forward once again. The emperor found himself in his bedchamber. "Good night," said Merkor. "And Merry Christmas." He walked away, fading out as he changed back to the likeness of death.

Xor opened the door and stepped into the hallway. The palace was dark and quiet. He had to search for a while to find anyone. Finally, he found Farron, his son, floating silent and still in the throne room. "Son..." he said as he swam toward him. "You wouldn't believe what just happened to me."

Farron turned and regarded Xor with dead eyes. All the life had been drained away from his face, leaving it gaunt and pale. "Farron doesn't live here anymore," said the body. "There is only Nexicul now."

Xor recoiled in terror. Other nageel began to swim into the room, their bodies likewise dead and animated by Nexicul. "So you're the great Emperor Xor," said the zombies in unison. "I can't tell you what a pleasure it is to meet you. Yes, I know all about you. I know what you did, and how you altered the course of time. You've been my single greatest friend. Without you, I might have been destroyed. Instead, I have expanded myself into this world. The Island is mine. The otters are mine. And now, you shall be mine as well." The zombies enclosed upon Xor. Everything went dark as his screams rang throughout the ocean.

Emperor Xor woke with such a jump that he hit his head on the ceiling.

A guard rushed in. "Your majesty! Is everything all right?"

Xor stared at the guard for a second or two. His eyes were bright and his body very much alive. "When is it?" he demanded.

"When is what, sire?"

"NOW! When is now?"

"It's twenty-two hundred hours, your majesty, on December the twenty-fourth."

Xor couldn't believe it. Had it all been a dream? He bolted out the door and toward the armory. Coming the other way, he found Prince Farron. "Good evening, Father," said the prince. "You look a bit... I was going to say disquieted, but perhaps jangled is the appropriate word."

"Stop the attack!" Xor commanded.

"You know of the attack? I... I wanted it to be a surprise."

"You are not to attack Otter Island or any of its people without my express orders," said the emperor.

"But father, the otters aren't people..."

"Do not argue with the emperor!" He swam into the great hall. "Messengers!" he cried. "Attend me!" Immediately, a large number of young nageel swam toward the emperor and bowed. "Inform the military leaders first, then spread the news to all of our kingdoms. There is to be no violence done against any citizen of Otter Island until and unless I order otherwise. And if anyone disobeys my edict, he will be cut to pieces and fed to the sharks, and his home bulldozed! GO!"

"Father, what are you doing?" Farron hissed.

"I am changing the course of history," declared the emperor. "And for future reference, that edict applies as much to you as it does anyone else. Should you ever try to lead the military behind my back again, I will do to you as I have promised. Is that understood, PRINCE Farron?"

"Yes, Father," Farron submitted.

"Now then... I have something I need to do. And by the way, this place is bleak. Have the staff do some decorating while I'm out. And put up some Christmas trees."

"Do as he says," the prince ordered a nearby servant. Then to himself, he muttered "Father's gone completely mad."

* * *

It was still dark as Oren and his rescuers pulled the boat onto the beach. "I can't stay long," said Oren. "I promised my folks I'd be back to open presents and have Christmas dinner. Oh, I hope I still have that homing charm in my workshop. Do you know if it's there?"

"I have no idea," replied Blalok. "Until yesterday, nobody remembered you had a workshop."

As they began walking away from the boat, someone rose up out of the water. It was Emperor Xor. He had not even bothered to disguise himself, but was dressed in his usual short toga and crown. "Nageel!" Sayna hissed.

Xor knelt. "Yes. I am a nageel. My name is Xor, and I surrender."

"Surrender?" echoed all four otters.

"I am alone, and unarmed. Please, if you will allow me, I have a message to give to the king."

The otters might have refused, and even attacked the nageel, but as they looked at him, their hearts softened. They didn't see the spirits whispering in their ears, but Xor could feel their influence. "Very well," said Sayna. "But no funny business."

* * *

King Mijbil was not happy, but he agreed to meet with the nageel messenger. He was shocked when he saw who it was, for he recognized the one who had betrayed him before, when Prince Selv attempted to take the Island with his pirates and shadowlings. He'd claimed ignorance, then, which led the king to suspect that anything Xor was about to tell him was a lie.

"Your majesty," said the emperor, bowing deeply.

"Emperors do not bow to kings," said Mijbil. "What are you playing at, nageel?"

"You are right to be distrusting," said Xor. "I have done you great evil in the past. And for that, I am truly sorry. Your majesty, if you will allow me, I have come to offer peace."

"At what price?" asked the king.

"Unconditional," replied Xor. 

Mijbil scowled. There had to be a catch. But the queen stepped forward, her eyes intent upon the decoration hanging around his neck. "Where did you get that?" she asked him.

Xor had forgotten about the necklace. He was still wearing it from the time spent as an otter. Was that even possible? He didn't understand whether his experiences had been a vision or real, and if real how any of it was possible. He wanted to tell them the whole thing, how he'd received it from a friend, a friend that he had murdered with his own hand years ago. But as he tried to speak, his throat closed and his jaw quivered. The words would not come, only tears. He fell to his hands and knees, sobbing.

"He means it," whispered Kroya into the king's ear. "Have mercy."

Mijbil stepped forward and placed a hand on the broken emperor's shoulder. "I believe you," he said. "Dry your tears. This morning, you shall dine with us as our guest this Christmas morn."

* * *

Christmas morning breakfast was spectacular. When it came to celebration, otters never did anything by half measure. There were eggs, kippers, clams, shrimp, fruit, and even foods which wild otters never knew, such as hotcakes, waffles and croissants. Having that extra measure of intelligence had its advantages. Oren, the long-lost brother, was seated on the king's right as a guest of honor, and next to him, the four brave souls who had rescued him. Xor sat all the way at the end of the table, feeling truly unworthy to even be there in the first place. "Xor!" called the king. "Emperor Xor, come forward and sit with us at this end!"

"Your majesty, I... I have not..."

"Come. Today is a day for peace, love and forgiveness. Your wrongs are forgotten. Today, we are friends. Please, sit with me."

Xor did as he was bid. That Christmas, he celebrated with the otters, and was the happiest he had ever been.

* * *

Epilogue

A year had passed. Xor was seated with his new friends at Tempus' table. On his left sat Ebeneezer Scrooge. On his right, Frank Cross. All three of them were chatting animatedly about how the spirits of Christmas had changed their lives. The door opened. In walked a humanoid coyote. "You must be the Spirit of Christmas Present," she said.

"And you must be Darkstorm the Assassin," replied Tempus. "Welcome. We've been expecting you."

The coyote looked up and down the table. "I know some of you," she said. "You're Genghis Kahn! And you're Linda Ilgom! And you're... Emperor Xor? Hey, didn't somebody kill you recently?"

"Sadly, yes," Xor replied. "That conniving son of mine literally stabbed me in the back. But thanks to Tempus, here, I've been spared my just desserts."

"I'll take his desserts if he doesn't want them!" called someone from the end of the table, setting the room roaring with laughter. Soon, Tempus was escorting his newest subject out into the world to save her soul. The guests took that as their cue to finish up and go their separate ways. Xor stepped out onto the golden street. he walked along, enjoying the sweet, clean air and brilliant colors of the gardens. And sitting there on the edge of a fountain, waiting for him, was Jipuna. Despite his untimely death, Xor was truly happy, for now he was with Jipuna once again, and would be for eternity.

* * *

Oren was a very busy otter.  In addition to being the magician of transformation, he was also a very successful cartoonist.  His friend the anteater had invited him to be part of her new animation studio.  They'd been through some epic adventures together.  As time went on, Oren found himself admiring Fnaire the anteater more and more.  That admiration was turning into something more, but he dared not pursue her heart, for she had become engaged to a prince.  On a frigid Christmas eve, Oren got ready to leave the animation studio and return to Otter Island when a young hyena approached him.  "Scuse me, Sir." said the lad.  "I was just sweeping up and I found this in the dustbin."  The object he handed over was a golden ring with a sparkling diamond.

"No one around here even wears rings." said Oren.

"Ah, well, if nobody claims it, maybe you can give it to that girl you're sweet on."

Oren cringed slightly.  "It's not like that." he responded.  "Besides, she's marrying the prince."

"Oh, well, you never know.  Maybe they'll be split up one day, then there'll be room for one more."

Oren blushed and said nothing as he tied his white scarf around his neck and headed out the door into the snow.  "Merry Christmas, Mr. Custodian."

"Merry Christmas, Sir." replied the hyena, who then walked away through the wall.

Oren stopped.  Did that hyena just turn into a skeleton?  he must be over-tired if he was seeing things like that.  No matter.  It was Christmas eve.  Time to get home to friends and family.











Special thanks to:
The JAM
Scott Serkit
Fnaire Otter
And all the friends and family who have been so supportive and helpful.

Oh, and by the way... "Hidden candy cane".