Haven i Jerne

The garden was still bathed in a glow of magical light, but the snowstorm raged on relentlessly. Santa sat on a tree stump, looking worried as he checked his large, leather-bound list. Around him lay the sleigh, the reindeer, and… nothing else.

“The presents are gone,” he said gravely, his voice so serious that even Klunte stopped fumbling with his spellbook. “I had them all with me, but now they’ve disappeared.”

Lystig gasped. “How could that happen? The presents should have been safe in your sleigh!”

Santa shook his head. “Not when the Night Clouds are involved.”

At the sound of the name, the Christmas Spirit grew serious, her golden light flickering for a moment. “The Night Clouds,” she said softly. “They are my opposite—creatures of darkness that feed on light and Christmas joy. If they’ve stolen the presents, it’s not just Christmas at risk. They’ll drain the light from the entire world.”

Fjære flitted nervously about. “How do we stop them? And how do we get the presents back?”

“We’ll have to find their hiding place,” Santa said, standing up with a determined expression. “But it won’t be easy. The Night Clouds thrive in the storm and can hide in any shadow.”

“I have an idea!” Klunte suddenly exclaimed. “What if we use a light-tracking spell from my book? We could find them by following the light they’ve stolen.”

Lystig looked skeptical. “Klunte, your last spell ended with Santa crashing into the garden.”

“I know!” Klunte replied eagerly. “But this time, I’ll get it right. I promise!”

Santa nodded. “Let’s give it a try. Neither time nor light is on our side.”

With the book in hand, Klunte began muttering another spell. Golden lines of light ran up his arms, forming a pattern in the air. Soon, a beam of light shot out, pointing toward the darkest part of the garden.

“They’re in there,” whispered the Christmas Spirit, gesturing toward a cluster of ancient oak trees that now looked more menacing than ever. Their branches stretched like shadowy claws toward the sky, and the darkness between them seemed almost to pulse.

The four—Lystig, Klunte, Fjære, and Santa—moved cautiously toward the trees. The closer they got, the more they felt a strange coldness that didn’t come from the snow. It was as if the garden’s light was being drained with every step they took.

Suddenly, a dark figure emerged from the shadows. It was shaped like a mist, with glowing red eyes and a chilling, whispering voice.

“So, you’ve found us,” the figure hissed. “But you’re too late. The presents are ours now, and soon, we will extinguish all light—including yours.”

“You’re wrong, Night Cloud!” The Christmas Spirit stepped forward, her light shining brighter and pushing back the darkness. “Christmas will never succumb to the dark.”

But there were more Night Clouds. Three more emerged, and their shadows began creeping toward Lystig and his friends.

Klunte clutched his book in panic. “I can do something! I can…” He flipped through the pages frantically, but suddenly, the book was snatched from his hands by a shadowy tentacle.

“It’ll be harder without this,” the Night Cloud laughed as the book vanished into the darkness.

“We still have each other!” Lystig shouted, pulling a small light crystal from his pocket. “And we have the Christmas Spirit!”

He threw the crystal toward the Night Clouds, and a blinding light erupted in the darkness. The shadows screamed and retreated, but only for a moment.

Santa shouted, “We need to hold them off long enough to find the presents!”

Fjære, who had flown up to scout, pointed to a dark cave between the trees. “There! The presents are in there!”

Lystig nodded. “Fjære, you and Klunte retrieve the presents. Santa and I will keep them busy.”

As the plan unfolded, the battle for the garden intensified. Light and darkness clashed in an epic duel, and the snow glittered like silver between them. What they didn’t yet realize was that this was only the beginning of the ultimate fight for the fate of Christmas.