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Necropolitus Cracoviensis—“Nec” to his friends—loved his city in the winter. Kraków took the season very seriously; it needed plenty of extra cheer to survive the long, cold months when there were fewer and fewer hours of sunlight each day. Of course, most of the cheer was of the Christmas variety, but the snow glittered and the air filled with magic for heathen Satanists like him, too. In a few days, he would take the train north and have a very happy Yule with his family, who he hadn't seen in months. He could already smell the poppy seed cakes his mother always baked for Yule's-eve dinner as he shook the snow off his tennis shoes and climbed the creaking stairs of the Ministry house.
Terzo was in their shared room when Nec got there, cozied up in a black cable-knit sweater and lounging on his bed with the phone cord twisted around his finger. The other hand was laid across his forehead as if in a Victorian faint. “No, no, absolutely not,” he muttered into the phone. He sounded bitter. “Right. Well. Have a happy Yule, then. Love you, too. Yeah, yeah, hail Satan.”
Nec doffed his windbreaker and tossed it over the back of his chair. “Is something up? You want to talk about it?”
Terzo threw away the receiver and pressed his palms over his eyes. “That was my mother,” he said. “I told her I'm… not going home for the holidays this year.”
“Huh? Why not?”
“My father's going to be there.”
“You mean Papa Emeritus?” Nec’s mouth dropped open. “Don't you want to see him? Yule with Papa would have to be the Yule-iest Yule there could possibly be, wouldn't it?”
Terzo groaned. “You can still have some respect for that man because you don't know him. And my mother acts like such a fool around him, it's embarrassing. He only visited us a few times throughout my whole childhood, and every time he did it made me want to blow chunks.” He slowly slid his hands down his face, stretching the dark circles below his eyes. “No, I don't want to see him for Yule.”
Nec's expression fell. “So … You're just going to stay here, then? By yourself?”
Terzo was silent for a bit. Then he shrugged nonchalantly; the type of nonchalance it took concerted effort to achieve. “Ah, well, I'm not really a big Yule guy anyway. But tell me, how is your portfolio coming along?”
And that was the end of the conversation, at least as far as Terzo was concerned.
But Nec couldn't let it go. That night he lay awake casting glances across the darkened room, picturing poor gloomy Terzo shivering alone in the drafty old house without a single smidgen of Yuletide cheer to warm his heathen heart. Nec was the type of person for whom Holiday Spirit became an entire personality this time of year, and the thought of Terzo having a lonely Yule was unacceptable. He resolved that, in the few days still to go before he left for his own celebrations, he would do everything within his power to make Terzo's Yuletide merry and bright, whether he wanted it or not.
The first step was to decorate their room for the season. Luckily the local art house cinema was screening ‘Der Himmel Über Berlin’ with director commentary the next day, which meant Terzo would be out for three hours at least. With that much time Nec could handily transform the cluttered flat into a pagan winter wonderland.
He festooned their altar with pine boughs, hung ivy and holly over the movie posters on the walls, and even put a sprig of mistletoe above his own bed just to be cheeky. He cut out paper suns and taped them over the windows, and wrapped a festive scarf around the statue of Baphomet in the corner—the old goat did look a bit chilly with its tits out like that.
When Terzo returned from the cinema, he stopped just inside the door. “What is all of this?”
“Holiday cheer!”
Terzo made a face. “That is … You didn't have to do that.”
“It's no sweat,” Nec said, feeling pleased with himself. “Just thought this old drafty place could use some livening up for the season. You don't have to thank me.”
Terzo looked about to say something, but stopped as his eyes traveled up to the ceiling. “Is that…?”
Nec made a show of surprise. “Mistletoe? Uh oh, looks like you have to kiss me!”
“That's not how it works. I'm not under the mistletoe.”
“That's what you think.” Nec grinned and pointed to the top of the door frame.
Terzo tilted his head upwards. Above him was a second, more subtle sprig of mistletoe. Terzo sighed and shook his head, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. “Still not sure that's how it works,” he said, kicking off his shoes and sweeping across the room to pull Nec in close by his jacket. “But I do have to admire your planning.”
And so Nec considered the decorating a success. But that wasn't the end of his Yule plans for Terzo; not by a long shot. Appropriating customs from other, more established religions whenever convenient was an integral part of the Ministry's philosophy, and as such Nec felt it was totally fine to spend the next day enjoying Kraków's famous Christmas Market. For some reason Terzo seemed reluctant to go along, so Nec had to sweeten the deal by agreeing to watch ‘Der Blaue Engel’ with him that night, even though Nec found it a snooze fest. But it was a small price to pay; he was sure once they got to the market his dour companion would enjoy himself. Nobody did a Christmas market like Kraków.
It was snowing lightly when the two of them set off. Terzo, who always insisted that he was used to Polish winters by now, had bundled several layers underneath a huge black puffer jacket that he'd zipped all the way up to his nose. Combined with the furry ushanka hat on his head, his eyes were the only visible part of him. They were already red-rimmed and watering from the cold by the time the two of them reached the main square at the center of Old Town. He looked like a fat, pissed-off penguin. “What is so special about this Christmas market anyway?” he mumbled.
Nec looked at him askance. “Have you never been to one?”
“They're not really a thing in the States. You go to the mall and get all your shit on Black Friday then snap a picture with an alcoholic Santa, the way baby Jesus intended.”
“That sounds terrible. And chaotic.” Nec stepped into the square and was immediately swept into a stream of people. “Oh cool, it's not as crowded as last year!” He looked over his shoulder to make sure Terzo hadn't gotten lost amid the jostle, and pointed to a square wooden stall. “We have to get mulled wine first!”
“Do we?”
“Yes! Come on!”
Nec grabbed Terzo's gloved hand and dragged him along. They did have to wait in line for a bit—half an hour, give or take—but it was worth it as soon as Nec got his hands on a steaming cup garnished with a cinnamon stick. He took a long sip and smiled as the drink warmed his throat. “And one more for—”
Terzo shook his head. “Ah, no, sorry, none for me.”
Nec whirled on him. “What?!”
“I can't have cinnamon,” Terzo mumbled. “Makes my stomach sick. Didn't know there was cinnamon in it…”
Nec's smile faltered, but only for a moment. A small setback; there was still plenty to do that Terzo might enjoy. Warm pierogies and iced gingerbread and candied nuts; cute knitted hats and other useless winter shit made by local craft enthusiasts; Nativity scenes to mess with by drawing a mustache and unibrow on the baby Jesus.
But for some reason, even after two hours, Terzo didn't look like he was enjoying himself. He just looked cold. Maybe even miserable. So Nec cut his losses and returned with him to the house, to the crackling black-and-white arms of Marlene Dietrich.
…So clearly the Christmas market was a flop. That was okay. By no means was he giving up. Snuggled together with Terzo while he dethawed in front of their tiny space heater, carding his hand through his hair and humming along to ‘Falling in Love Again,’ Nec was only half-enjoying the moment. The other half was already planning the next day's outing.
It was going to be ice-skating. The air wasn't quite as cold the next day, and Nec felt like this couldn't go wrong.
Even if Terzo wasn't very good at skating—which Nec suspected he might not be—steadying himself on Nec's arm while the two of them laughed and glided slowly over the ice together still made for a pretty romantic picture. There was a small pond within biking distance that always froze smooth as fuck. And afterwards they'd come back for hot chocolate and another old German movie to appease Terzo. Foolproof winter wonderland.
Unfortunately, Nec had underestimated just how bad at ice-skating Terzo really was. His thick winter wear combined with his natural clumsiness made him into a big black bowling ball skidding across the ice. Nec could forget about trying to stabilize him unless he wanted to be dragged down himself. Eventually the toe of Terzo's skate caught on the only bump on the whole pond, and the tranquil peace of the forest was broken by a string of curses that could not be repeated even in the privacy of Nec's internal monologue.
By the time they returned to the house, they were both cold and miserable and there was a hole in Terzo's best pair of socks. It felt like there had been a net loss of cheer.
Nec had to admit he was starting to get discouraged, but he was not done yet. Drastic measures were now necessary; his departure day was approaching and Terzo still didn't seem any happier. Who could blame him, with all of the mishaps they'd had so far. No more, Nec resolved.
It was time to bring out the big guns.
The next afternoon, when the bright, warm sun was highest in the sky, Nec bundled Terzo up again with assurances that it would be their last outdoor activity of the season. Carefully, he wrapped up a small hand-axe in a towel and put it into his backpack. Then he and Terzo left the house and boarded the bus to Las Wolski.
The bus drove them past the zoo and then into the woods that rimmed the city. They disembarked at the entrance to a thin hiking trail, muddy with melted snow. Terzo gave Nec a sideways glance. “This isn't going to take us up any mountainsides, is it?”
“No, it's just a short walk.”
“Right, sure, only the last time I went hiking with you and you said it was a short walk—”
“I've learned what you consider ‘short’ since then,” Nec said, with a bit of a huff. “Don't worry, I wouldn't risk carrying you through the Carpathians again. It's a short walk.”
The two of them trudged up the path, boots crunching in the snow. True to Nec's word, after ten minutes or so the trail passed by a wooden fence with a ‘Keep Out’ sign tacked to it. Nec hopped over the fence and extended a hand to Terzo, who took it and clambered after him.
“Whose land are we trespassing upon?”
Nec jogged forward a few steps, then pointed. “Old Catholic couple's Christmas tree farm. Figured this would be a good place to get our Yule log.”
Laid out before them was a forest clearing filled with perfect rows of lush green pines. Nec dropped his backpack on the ground and pulled out the handaxe. “Pick a tree,” he said, “any tree.”
Terzo looked bemused, but he was smiling. “So many to choose from… Do you even know how to chop down a tree?”
“We'll find out. Maybe don't pick a big one, though.”
“Understood.” Terzo made a big show of considering, pacing through the rows of trees in his fuzzy hat like a Soviet kommissar. Eventually he found one with a bare trunk that fit perfectly within his cupped hands. “This one has log potential.”
“Alright, stand back!” Nec hefted the axe with a bit of a wobble, and took a full-body swing that completely missed the tree.
“Hey, watch where you are swinging that thing!” Terzo ducked past him and smacked him playfully on the shoulder. “You nearly took my head off!”
“Get out of the way then!” Nec laughed and reared back for another strike. This time his axe connected in a shower of splinters.
It took only a few more strikes for the small tree to go down. It fell to the snowy ground with a soft fluttering of branches. Nec pumped his fist. “Do you want to chop off the log?”
“Give me that axe,” Terzo said. “Some harmless violence would do me good, I think.”
“Yeah, probably. Just don't take your own head off.”
While Terzo hacked the base of the felled tree into a suitable log shape, Nec picked up a big stick and drew a pentagram into the snow on the ground; just some Yuletide well-wishes to leave behind for the owners.
He looked up and saw that Terzo was really going to town on the log. He looked like he was starring in a slasher film for trees. Seemed like there was a lot of pent-up frustration coursing through the dull hand-axe. He couldn't imagine why.
“AUGH! Shit! Fuck! Fucking shit!”
Terzo suddenly dropped the axe and reeled backwards. For a moment Nec thought he had managed to maim himself. “Fuck, dude, are you okay?!”
Terzo turned to face him, holding up his middle finger. There were fat tears welling in his eyes. “Splinter…”
Nec sighed and took back the axe.
The bus ride back home was interminable. Mostly because Nec had to spend it trying to fish the splinter out of Terzo's frozen finger while Terzo cried out dramatically every time they went over a bump. He did manage to calm down by the time they got back to the house, but the temperature had dropped so he was cold and sniffling again. Luckily they now had a giant pine log to pop into the fireplace.
Outside the sunlight was already fading and yet more snow was beginning to fall. Nec lit the yule log at one end, then settled onto the couch and thought about the train he'd be on in the morning, wondering if it would be delayed. Terzo sat down next to him and leaned into his side, seeking his body heat. His pale white hands were ungodly cold, but the heat of the fire and Nec's woolen sweater soon warmed them.
In the darkness, the orange firelight seemed to soften Terzo's sharp features. “Nec,” he said quietly. “I'm sorry.”
“Huh? Why?”
Terzo sighed and looked away. “For spoiling your Yule. I know how excited you get for these things, so I tried my best to enjoy them, I really did. But I'm just a terrible grinch, I'm afraid.”
“Huh?! No, that wasn't…” Nec began to feel a sense of guilt creeping up on him as he realized what Terzo was saying. “None of that stuff was for me! I just didn't want you to be sad, here all by yourself…”
Both of them blinked at each other for a few seconds. Then Terzo let out a short bark of laughter. “Really? That's so sweet. And also completely off the fucking mark.” He shrugged apologetically. “I was actually looking forward to not having Yule this year. Figured I would be able to practice my kazoo while you were out."
Nec's ears hurt just thinking about the kazoo. Terzo had been considering his feelings the whole time. He sighed. “Aw man… I'm sorry. Guess my head was just too up my own ass to realize I was only making you miserable.”
“No need to go that far! The Yule stuff wasn't all bad.” Terzo snuggled in closer, laying his head on Nec's shoulder. “This, for instance. This is pretty nice.”
Nec felt a fluttering in his chest. His face warmed, not entirely because of the fire. “Yeah?”
“Mm.” Terzo nuzzled into the crook of his neck, then slowly slid his hand over Nec's chest. “Maybe we can have one last try at the holiday spirit, before you go,” he murmured. “You're supposed to revel until the Yule log burns to the other end, no?”
Nec swallowed, casting a glance towards the fireplace. The flame wasn't very far along. “That'll probably take all night…”
Terzo smiled up at him with half-lidded eyes, and lifted himself up to brush his lips against Nec’s cheek. “I think we can make it last that long.”