Mistletoe Mischief

Lumi

The first thing that hit me as I tumbled out of the magical portal was the cold. It was a bone-chilling, teeth-rattling cold that made the North Pole seem like a tropical paradise. The air was so frigid that it felt like tiny ice crystals were forming in my lungs with each breath.

I landed with a soft thud in a snowbank, the powdery snow poofing up around me like a cloud of icing sugar. My cheeks were already turning pink from the frosty air, but despite the chill, I couldn't help but grin. I had done it. I had left the North Pole and all its magical duties behind.

I brushed the snow off my bright red coat, the color stark against the pristine white landscape. My fingers were already turning numb, but I wiggled them, letting a small spark of magic warm them up. I looked around, my breath misting in the air, and took in the sight of Frostpeak for the first time.

Frostpeak was a picturesque town nestled in a valley surrounded by towering mountains. The peaks were capped with snow that glistened under the pale winter sun, like diamonds scattered across a white blanket. The houses were quaint, with smoke curling from their chimneys in lazy spirals, and the streets were lined with twinkling lights that cast a warm glow on the snow. It was like stepping into a Christmas card, even more so than the North Pole -and I should know! I loved it instantly.

I started walking through the town, my boots crunching in the snow. The sound was satisfying, a rhythm that matched the beating of my heart. I drew more than a few curious glances from the townsfolk. I supposed a cheerful elf in a red coat and pointed ears wasn't something they saw every day, though I pasted a fairy and what I was pretty sure was a troll as I looked around the town.

But I was used to standing out, and I embraced it. I waved and smiled at everyone, my natural warmth drawing people in. A woman bundled up in a thick scarf and hat waved back, her eyes crinkling at the corners with a friendly smile. A group of children playing in the snow stopped and stared, their mouths agape, before waving enthusiastically. I could already feel the magic of this place seeping into my bones, and I knew I had made the right decision.

My first stop was the local diner, a cozy place called The Frosty Mug. The sign above the door was carved from wood and painted with intricate designs of snowflakes and pine trees. I pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside, the warmth enveloping me like a comforting hug. The smell of fresh coffee and warm pastries filled the air, and I couldn't help but sigh in contentment. The diner was bustling with activity, the hum of conversation and the clinking of cutlery against plates creating a lively atmosphere.

I found an empty seat by the window, the frost on the glass creating delicate patterns that sparkled in the sunlight. A waitress with rosy cheeks and a kind smile approached me, her notepad at the ready.

"What can I get for you, dear?" she asked, her voice warm and friendly.

"A hot chocolate, please," I said, rubbing my hands together to warm them up.