‘Tis the Season
Troll the Ancient Yuletide Carol!
Yule
“The celebrant has arrived!” the Lister announced. “And tonight he will light the Yule Log and begin the Wild Hunt!”
“The celebrant has arrived!” the crowd repeated. “And tonight he will light the Yule Log and begin the Wild Hunt!” At this, they began to chant:
“Tonight we ride on the Wild Hunt,
Led by Jolfoor the gift-giver,
Led by the eight-legged reindeer,
Bringing gifts to those in need.
Appear now unto us O Bolverk, Evil-doer!
Appear now unto us O Asatyr, God of Gods!
Appear now unto us O Mead-Thief!
Appear now unto us Odin, King of the Gods!
Gaj gek mostel camerial soin strioed whays ouit!”
When the crowd had finished chanting its verses, another crowd of blue robes found its way through the circle. They were carrying a short but heavy looking wooden box. Perhaps it was full of offerings. Perhaps it was the wretched coffin of a pauper, for all I knew. Whatever it was, they placed it on the altar. I actually supposed that it was the Yule Log or the container for the log, which I would shortly ignite with the nearby torch.
I was expecting to be handed that torch, but other events began to unfold. The small folks with the spears threw them over the throne and shouted, “Odin!” The Al-Felet began to whip their tentacles around violently, and there was a rumbling sound, as though an earthquake was taking place. A preternatural mist appeared around us and disappeared just as quickly. When it vanished and I could see again, I saw that a gigantic figure was manifesting itself upon the throne.
The man on the throne (I assumed it was a man at the time) was larger than any man I’d ever seen. He too was enrobed in royal blue. He was hooded, and a long gray beard could be seen coming out from under his hood. In a few seconds, he removed his headgear to reveal a human face with a black eye patch over the left eye.
Propped against the throne was a spear, and, sitting upon each arm of the throne, was a large raven. The birds made no movement but (Lord help me), something else did move. Behind the giant’s seat, standing and nearly prancing in place as though ready to lead a sleigh, were eight monstrous reindeer. They were twice the size of a normal reindeer, and each one had eight legs! Furthermore, each of them was adorned with bells that jingled incessantly!
The diminutive humanoids in the blue robes closest to the throne made obeisance to the giant, but he sat as though pondering, looking at everything and nothing. The small ones then removed their hoods and turned around. They were about four feet tall, thin, and they had bright, shining blue eyes. The countenance of each one was dark, suggesting that they had terrible, swarthy bodies. I observed also that they had long, white manes. It was at this time that I came to understand that these folks were not small humans. They were in fact elves, probably of that tribe referred to in mythology as “dark elves.”
The thing on the throne tilted his head to the side as though impatient. The ravens looked at him, questioningly. “Ho! Ho! Ho!” The abomination laughed. He then seemed to address me. “Light the fire and perhaps thou shalt later taste the poet’s mead! Set afire the log, let us feast, then let us ride!”
A cheer went up, and all eyes turned toward the Lister. He beckoned to a congregant, and the woman brought forth an unlit torch. The Lister lit the torch from the flames of the large torch that was standing by the altar. He turned in my direction, and took a step toward me. As he approached, a new noise was made by the crowd:
“Light the sacred Yule Log, a sweet sacrifice unto Odin, an offering of flesh for his offering of flesh!”
“Let the day-men come forth to open the lid,” the Lister commanded. Instantly, two men came forth. The Lister held the torch out, and I grasped it. “Throw the torch on the Yuletide offering,” he spoke, calmly. To the day-men, he ordered, “Open the lid.” They followed their orders, and removed the wooden cover.
I sighed heavily, suddenly afraid and once again enduring a feeling of dread. I knew that I should have stayed in Oklahoma. I faced the wooden box to see what I was supposed to set on fire—and I gasped. “Ho! Ho! Ho!” Odin laughed. “Burn it!”
© 2023-2025 Ren Adama
