Santa and the Necromancer: Fantasy World

By EDGARS AUZIŅŠ

Hazel returns home for Christmas in a bad mood - she has divorced her fiancé and her parents only want to see her married. The family celebration threatens to turn into torture. But luckily, Hazel's friend and colleague travels to her hometown to investigate a case of "hooligan witchcraft". Shouldn't they go together? Greg will play the role of Hazel's new boyfriend in front of her family, and she will help him investigate.....
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: EDGARS AUZINS
• Release date: Apr 7, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224818051

EDGARS AUZIŅŠ

Dzimis 1989. gada 22. decembrī. Absolvējis Rīgas Juridisko koledžu. Profesijā nav strādājis, bet apguvis programmēšanas prasmes un pašlaik ar to nodarbojas. Kopš 2022. gada ir personīgā uzņēmuma vadītājs, kas nodarbojas ar transporta pārvadājumiem, kā arī programmēšanu. Dzīvnieku, īpaši suņu, mīļotājs. Born 22 December 1989. Graduated from Riga College of Law. Has not worked in the profession, but has acquired programming skills and is currently working in it. Since 2022 he has been the CEO of his own company, which deals with transport transport as well as programming. Lover of animals, especially dogs.

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Table of Contents

CHAPTER 1 Friends have to help each other, right?

CHAPTER 2. The girl's house is almost like a monster's lair

CHAPTER 3. Walking around the city together is more pleasant

CHAPTER 4. Miss and Mr. Oyster Everything's OK

CHAPTER 5. Questions and confessions

CHAPTER 6. The moon and mistletoe will give you romance!

CHAPTER 7. Christmas is a time of fun!

CHAPTER 8. Miracles happen - accept it!

CHAPTER 9. Getting out to feed the deer is not that easy!

CHAPTER 10. Have you seen a necromancer at work?

CHAPTER 11. A family heirloom

EPILOGUE. Ten years later, before Christmas

CHAPTER 1 Friends have to help each other, right?

- Get off my sweater, bastard! – Hazel pulled the sweater by the sleeve, the Master let go of his claws and snorted in frustration. He was not going to give up the fluffy, soft and warm mat. What does sweater mean? If the cat sleeps on something, it is a carpet. There are no options.

Lazda lost this war a long time ago, and the rare attempts at revenge, like now, always ended in ignoble defeat.

In retaliation, she crumpled the crisp wrapping paper of Rudy's gift and threw it at the Magister. He lazily pressed his paw and gave a disdainful look. He sensed her bad mood very well, and with his whole appearance expressed extreme disapproval.

OK GOOD. You can take another sweater. But what about a mood that isn't really a holiday mood at all? Won't you go home? Lying to parents about being on emergency duty? It's not a choice - what the hell, they'll come to her. They will begin to restore perfect order in her apartment and life. Ideally, of course, from their point of view. They don't care what Hazel herself thinks about it. Never cared.

Sighing, she looked around the bedroom. An open suitcase in the middle, a pile of clothes carelessly piled on the bed, presents on the table, beautifully wrapped, piled up: family, friends, colleagues. Separately, the one I prepared for Rudy. She won't give it back. Ridiculous warm slippers with bear ears and button eyes do not fit Rudolph Oakbrain's idea of ​​respectability. In their place will be cufflinks and a tie pin, a set with built-in safety charms, a clock and a timer. Just right for a successful businessman who plans to become an equally successful politician. A parting gift.

He gave his in advance. I must have been summarizing the results of the year, and the unfinished relationship threw off the balance. She did not skimp on details - the luxurious organizer paid three times her monthly salary. Hazel took it to work. It was more needed there, and she didn't want any reminders of her ex-fiancé to remain at home.

They met for almost ten months - enough for the flame of the first passion to die down and allow them to look at each other soberly. They liked the same movies, were equally annoyed by misplaced things, and were good in bed. How could it end if not a wedding?!

Hazel did not understand what had happened. Even worse, she couldn't understand why her feelings were so much more relief than pain, disappointment and resentment? It was as if one day their eyes opened - at a time that did not surprise them at all. Who was the first to say, We'd better break up now before things go too far? She didn't remember.

A divorce without drama and scandals, as peaceful as their meeting in recent months. Sacramental: Let's stay friends. Christmas presents.

And yet – resentment or relief? Or worse, the disappointment that the relationship with Rudy ended at such an inopportune time? It must be horrible to worry more than about the divorce itself, but about having to explain to mom.

And she will give the slippers to dad. He will surely like it. Yes.

Nodding to herself, Hazel waved the gifts to her family in her suitcase. Packages and boxes flew by in a sparkling line and neatly folded to the bottom. Clothes fell from above in a careless pile - I was in no mood to sort and put them away. Mom will still drag you to buy something new. For some reason, she is still convinced that her daughter really likes shopping, and all the I don't want and I don't need anything are just because she doesn't want to cause unnecessary trouble.

She thought about shoes. Sports shoes and winter boots are obvious, but should you bring smart shoes? Hazel wasn't going anywhere that needed them, but how can you be sure? Dragging her to a party would be a challenge in itself, but if she also had to buy new shoes... oh no!

Just imagining this image - endless fittings under her mother's comments, suggestions to look at this pair too and complaints about her unfortunate personal life, made Hazel shudder and call out for her shoes in irritation. I think they're still in the hallway - the last time she wore them was when Rudy took her to a charity reception that was as trite and boring as a political campaign programme. Last year's most extravagant evening; no, in the last five years!

- Oh! Foggy, why?!

She turned around. Greg was standing in the bedroom doorway with his shoes in his hands. Explained:

It hit me right in the back of the head. Thank you for not wearing heels.

Sorry, Hazel smiled involuntarily: Greg Nicholson's ability to attract a little trouble had long since become either a byword under their leadership or simply an anecdote. - Throw them in your suitcase and let's go get coffee. I hope you only came to visit and not with a cool idea of ​​how to spend your holidays.

Yes, yes, because my cool ideas always turn into bruises in the most inconvenient places and official punishments for you, Greg remembered his fiery speech after their last adventure. Not that she was angry then. After all, they are friends. But as Greg himself said more than once, if Hazy doesn't speak his heart after the next case, then the case is not closed yet.

The shoes went into the suitcase, and Greg, like an old friend, went into the kitchen to make coffee: he was better at it than Hazel. Screamed:

– A box of eclairs on the table in the living room.

– You brought eclairs! – Lazda almost screamed. The only way to improve her mood is guaranteed, although Greg used it all too often to lure her into adventures. - Let's go!

Shoes were followed by sneakers; Chaisel was about to close the suitcase when the Master lazily jumped into it, hit the mountain of clothes and curled up in a ball.

- Don't be afraid, I won't forget you! "Lazda threw on a sweater covered with cat hair and went into the kitchen. The suitcase will wait, but the coffee and eclairs will not.

***

- So then? - the coffee was drunk, the eclairs were eaten, and judging by the fact that Greg chose to remain silent while eating, he didn't just come to visit. – What is your next awesome idea and what does it threaten us with? Tell me already!

You'll be surprised, it's not my idea this time. Or not really mine.

He had the decency to blush. It probably meant that the idea was his, and probably completely crazy, but it was not born just like that, but in response to an official task. Nothing good. Hazel laced her fingers and watched expectantly.

Santa's Creek, Greg blurted out. - Christmas.

- AND? What do you think I should do when I hear you say the name of my hometown? Jump up and scream, I know!?

– Invite me over? - Greg made puppy eyes. – In a purely friendly way?

- Suddenly.

But that's a great idea! - I suddenly thought. Coming home with a guy...

It's the boss, and to be perfectly precise, it's not the boss, it's some politician with a grievance, Greg hastened to explain. – He is on a campaign trip. Well, you know - a formal suit, a white shirt, discreet platinum cufflinks, glasses for respect and two bodyguards who must remain invisible, without breaking the illusion of closeness to people.

Hazel snorted, the picture Greg had drawn would be perfect for the man he had become over the past few months.

– And in your Santa Creek, the whole image of this scoundrel collapsed. As soon as he entered the local entertainment center, his costume changed to a carnival outfit with an eggplant tutu, and the two bodyguards turned into ducklings and began croaking.

- Ducklings? Eggplant tutu?! God, I want to see it!

Here, admire this, a copy of the town's official newspaper, Santa's Bulletin, unfolded on the table in front of Hazel. A thick purple eggplant in a poisonous pink, pointy ballet skirt and two giant yellow ducklings on either side of it took up half the width. A great, high-quality photo that perfectly recognized Rudy's indignant purple face, the young, promising politician who visited our town and appreciated Santa Creek's hospitality. How high was not specified. Obviously much higher than the 12+ rating allowed to the press.

As in a dream, Hazel folded the newspaper. I found the date. Before or after the divorce?

After.

OK good. At least something good. Although...

- Who cares...

- What are you talking about? Smoky?

I'm trying to remember if I told him or not. That I'm from Santa's Creek. That my parents and grandmother live there. He and I... didn't get to meet the family. Very small.

- Wait, wait. Are you... wait, is that the same jerk you're with?

Who I broke up with a week ago and I don't want to discuss it, Hazel said. - Rudolph Oakbrain.

Nice name, Greg unfolded the newspaper and seemed to be studying Mr. Eggplant's face carefully. - Dull as an oak? Judging by the three-page, two-copy complaint, he certainly doesn't get the joke. "He lifted his head and began to study Hazel.

- What are you doing? - she couldn't stand it after a few minutes.

- You are too smart for such a word. Ms. Acorns? It's never funny. Α I still wonder why I didn't drag my friend to our office to meet him. He would not have come to court.

In fact, Rudy himself refused, even though Hazel offered several times. What did he say then? I don't want to be seen near the police department, there may be false rumors? Yes, it seems so. And he simply tossed aside the explanation that the Department of Magical Violence wasn't exactly the police, strictly speaking. I wonder if it didn't bother him that his girlfriend worked there? Or... was it just embarrassing?

- Let's go back a bit. What does an aspiring politician with no sense of humor have to do with wanting to spend Christmas visiting my family?

- That's what I said, - he dismissed the complaint. On three pages, with an explanation of moral damage and damage to reputation. He claims that these are the machinations of rivals and political rivals and demands that he be found and punished. The boss would have laughed, written that the measures had been taken, and forgotten, but a copy went to the governor. A botched campaign speech is not something he'll roll his