With Christmas over this year, most elves chose to relax. They sat around the North Pole, enjoying ice cream and down time with friends. Some went sledding, while others stayed indoors and watched movies with friends. Some kept up with their work, trying to get more done before that lazy time of summer arrives.

Two people, however, do not get to enjoy this day off. Yes, they may have saved an entire village. Yes, they may have saved Christmas and innocent lives. And yes, they may have freed Santa from his prison in a snow globe.

But dang, did those to make a mess. The cafeteria is in ruins, with scratch marks and holes in the furniture. The floor is scarred in several places, with splinters of broken wood laying around the room. They almost want to just shove it all under the table cloths. The table cloths touch the floor, hiding anything that could be within.

"Man, now I feel bad." The first man, Peter Holly, says.

"Don't. We did save Christmas after all." The other man, Adam Iceberg, adds confidently.

"Yes, you're right." Peter concedes.

"Of course I am! Just like I knew you'd forget to get the brooms." Adam chuckles, pulling two brooms out from behind his back.

"Darn!" Peter exclaims. "I knew I was forgetting something!"

Laughing, the two begin their work. Peter makes it a game, of sorts. They act out their final battle with Herobrine, except with wood planks and brooms instead of Herobrine and swords. Not as extravagant as a stone axe versus an enchanted iron sword, but it's not meant to be accurate.

"Oh, Oh! And that move, where you jumped in front of my axe!" Adam yells, placing his hands in the air and imitating.

"I know! It was risky, but it worked!" Peter smirks.

"Risky my elf ass!" Adam shouts. "I could have killed you!"

"Nah, I wasn't going to die." Peter comforts.

"How do you know that?"

"I don't." Peter responds plainly.

"SEE!"

Adam roughly sweeps a piece of wood around one of the benches. The wood gets caught, and he accidentally hits it underneath the table. Groaning, he stretches his back. The thought of bending down to get it just isn't appealing right now.

"Oh nutcracker! Dumb bench." Adam whines.

"Aw, what did it do to you?" Peter teases.

"It stole my wood!"

"Adam." Peter snickers. "Tables aren't sentient."

Adam grumbles some colorful insults to his friend, and bends down to the bench's level. He swears, his back sometimes feels as if he is centuries old.

Oh wait.

"Adam! Are you getting it, or what?" Peter complains. "I'm lonely on this side of the room, and there's so much to pick up!"

"Alright, Alright." Adam sighs.

He gets on his hands and knees, and fishes around under the table for a moment. Thankfully, nothing much seems to be down there that he'll have to clean up. Just a few grains of dust, that piece of wood, and... Metal?

Adam runs his finger down the metal, and feels a sharp tip at the end. He traces it down to a handle, and the shape feels perfect in his hands.

"Milk and cookies!" He curses to himself.

"What? What is it?"

Adam's heartbeat quickens, as does his breathing. He takes his hands off of the object, a sword, which he now knows the make of, and who made it.

It's fully enchanted. There is sharpness and smite, on the same sword, which shouldn't be possible. The handle is made of ebony, while the tip is fused with obsidian and diamond. Adam knows whose it is, why it was made, and exactly what it was made for.

"N-Nothing! Just, uh, got a splinter!" Adam gasps.

"O-kay?" Peter says skeptically.

Peter goes back to his sweeping, glancing back at Adam occasionally. Suddenly Adam stands up, with the wood plank in hand. He puts the table cloth back where it was, and looks to Peter.

"Alright, Alright. You said there was more over there?" Adam asks, pointing to a place by Peter. He smiles.

"Yup! Right under those benches, and by the stage." Peter replies, still a bit suspicious.

Adam, now tense, resumes helping with Peter. Soon they have a job well done, and the remainder of the day to enjoy. Yet, they have no idea how to spend this empty day.

“First, we oughta make sure that Santa's got nothing else for us to do.” Adam says, walking with his broom in hand.

“Well, we saved Christmas and cleaned up our mess. What could be left?”

“I dunno.” Adam shrugs.

They two agree to continue to Santa's office, both praying that the big man gives them the rest of their day. They're sure he could come up with something for then to do, but they are also sure that he is a merciful man.

Peter catches some kind of purpley light out of the corner if his eye. But when he looks, all he sees is Adam stuffing some kind of golden chain back into the collar of his shirt. He's sure he's imagining things.

“Okie dokie. Pray for freetime!” Adam suddenly cries, stopping at a door.

It's the door to Santa's office. The door is red, with a rim of green and a mailslot of green. The door handle is gold, much to Adam’s appreciation. He's a fan of gold. Never call it that in front of him, though. He always calls it Budder.

Peter moves forward, and knocks three times. They patiently wait in front of the door for a reply.

“Come in, come in!” A joyous voice replies.

Tentatively, Peter opens the door to see his boss comfortably seated in his chair. Adam smiles, and casually waves with a cheerful expression.

“H-Hey Mr. Claus!” Adam and Peter say in unison.

“Ho Ho, hello boys. I have to say, I really missed this chair of mine. Thank you.” Santa says politely, grinning.

“Of course!” Adam replies quickly.

“Anyone else would have done the same.” Peter adds.

“Oh, would they now? Well, did they?”

“O-Oh well m-maybe i-if--” Peter stutters.

“Did they?” Santa interrupts, asking again.

“Nope!” Adam butts in.

Santa waves a hand towards the window. Elves are walking below, enjoying ice creams and friends. Everyone has a smile on their face.

“That’s right.” Santa smiles. “Everyone down there? They all have their lives to thank you for.”

Peter and Adam beam with pride. “Thank you sir.” They both say.

“No, thank you.” Santa says sternly. Then he smiles, spotting the brooms still in their hands.

“If you are here for another job, then I have none. You have done quite enough for this town these past few days.” Santa says.

The two boys grin. “Thank you sir! Bye sir!” They say again, dashing out of the room.

They run down the hallways of Santa's building, nearly bumping into several elf attendants. They get scolding shouts, but neither pays them any mind.

“Thank Rudolph!” Adam exclaims, kicking up some snow. “I thought we'd have to lug the cannon back to the shed!”

“That definitely would have been unfortunate.” Peter chuckles.

Several minutes of cracking jokes, kicking snow, and walking later, they reach their elf quarters. Ten elves to a house, and ten houses to a quarter. There are now ten quarters, thanks to a recent renovation. Some elves had been bunking for years.

Since elves never die, as long as they stay in the North Pole, then this should be the only renovation needed. New elves don't come around very often. Only when a single human worthy enough is selected by Santa Claus himself.

The rest of them were just… there. No one really knows each other's stories, and no one really bothers to ask. Most elves tend to value their privacy. All they know of each other is that they've been there for about 92 years. There were elves before them, but everyone needs to continue with humanity eventually.

Every hundred years, the elves are returned to humanity, and a new staff is gathered. Yet, despite arriving at the same time, they still don't know much of each other. Like anyone would say, elves are private creatures.

This, of course, includes Adam and Peter. They part ways in the door, and go to their separate rooms. The rooms are small, and only about four blocks wide and five blocks long. It's plenty of room for a single bed and a single elf, though.

Adam shuts his door behind him, and collapses on his bed with a relieved sigh. He has the rest of the day to do whatever he wants, and he will not waste it before everyone has to continue work tomorrow. Wrapping presents can really make a guy's arms sore.

Adam takes off his hat, and sets it on his bedside table. He reaches down his collar, pulling out a part of a golden cord. He yanks on it, and, little by little, a gem emerges.

Adam pulls the rest of his amulet out of its hiding place. A purple gem is encased with a gold rim, and lays against his chest, tied to a gold cord that sits around his neck. It glows and shimmers with a magic akin to an enchantment. The amulet is precious, and more important than anyone knows.

Well, except for him. And he isn't even sure he's learned all of its capabilities.

Adam rolls over and onto his side, staring at the cream colored wallpaper. Earlier in the year, he strung up christmas lights in the corners. It makes it look better. He even painted the cords yellow, to make it look like gold.

Adam sighs, and slowly takes off his sunglasses. The light is blinding for a moment, but that is not the cause of the purple and golden flickers of light that bounce off of the reflexive objects in the room. Those come from under the sunglasses.

A stray beam of purple light strikes the reflexive golden handle, and ricochets off of it. A moment passes, before the beam is seen bouncing off of something hidden in Adam’s elf uniform. It strikes his revealed eyes, and is lost.

Lost in the glowing gold and purple.

“Oh, right.” Adam mumbles, fumbling with the object hidden in his shirt.

He pulls it out, revealing a sparkling, glowing, enchanted iron sword. A purple sheen glimmers in the evening rays of light, reaching far enough to illuminate Adam’s nightstand. He frowns, sliding a finger down the sharp edge. A sliver of a golden substance drips from his finger.

“I figured this would disappear with… him…” Adam murmurs wistfully. “Guess not, huh?”

He thinks back, remembering the battle they had in the cafeteria. Him, Peter, and Herobrine, head to head for the sake of Christmas.

~

Flames flicker and hiss as they travel down the rope. At the end of said rope is a canister of gunpowder, ready to fuel the cannon it is attached to. Snow pools around the canon’s wheels, making keeping it in place easy, but getting it in place rather difficult.

Two boys, one with sunglasses and one with blond hair, sit inside the cannon, about to be fired. They both wear determined smirks, weapons in hand. Elves around them cheer them on, waving their arms back and forth.

The fire reaches the end of the rope.

BOOM.

The boys smile, and high five in mid air. They burst through the wooden doors of Santa’s cafeteria, weapons raised. Peter selected a bow, along with many arrows. He fires them in rapid succession as needed. Adam selected a broad axe, which he wields as if he were born to it.

Adam goes for the attack on Herobrine, but sees that Herobrine is ready to counter. Last minute he swerves out of the way, and lands on his feat by the far wall. Peter covers, jumping onto a table and distracting Herobrine with arrows.

Herobrine manages to deflect every arrow with a twirl of the enchanted iron sword, much to Peter’s astonishment. Herobrine had recovered quickly, and was taking a moment to analyze his targets. He nearly hits Peter with a swing of his sword, but instead gauges a hole in a bench.

With Herobrine’s eyes on him, Peter sees his chance. Adam takes a step forward as time slows down, signalling to Peter that he is about to attack. Peter, however, can see that Herobrine is ready to counter once again. He has a plan.

Peter’s lips curl down in concentration, and Adam’s breaths come out in quick rasps. Peter fires as many arrows as he can fit into a few seconds, gaining Herobrine’s attention.

Adam takes his opportunity, using Peter’s distraction to his advantage. He launches himself, and his axe, into the air. His aim is true, but the distraction is not what he has in mind.

Peter stops firing arrows, watching the scene at what seems like a quarter of normal speed. He gets an idea, and springs into action, literally. He jumps into the air, right in front of Adam’s axe.

Adam looks alarmed for a moment, but switches tactics. He plants his feet on the ground, and slings his axe into the air. The arch follows an opposite path of Peter, thankfully missing him by mere inches. The entire situation is giving Adam heart palpitations, just watching.

Peter gives Herobrine a playful wink as he flies by. The axe comes right after he passes by.

The distraction is successful, but Herobrine is quick. He puts up his sword, just in time to block the incoming axe. Adam notices his grip on his sword loosen, and smirks. He has now caught another opportunity for attack.

Herobrine, still in midair, watches helplessly as his only weapon falls from his hands. He spots Adam, taking a running start, and realizes that this may be his end. His mouth opens in an “O” shape, but seems to move.

Herobrine is muttering words.

Adam and Peter, unknowing of this, smirk with satisfaction at what seems to be Herobrine’s doom. Adam finishes his lunge, and aims his hand towards the flying sword. His hands come around it firmly.

Peter smiles from the sidelines, unmoving. He knows that this battle is over, and that they have won. Peter watches as Adam plunges the glowing iron sword into Herobrine’s chest, and cheers as Herobrine gasps in pain.

Adam is up close on the seen, and is disturbed, more than happy.

In his final moments, mouth still agape, Herobrine is smiling at him. Still, with a sword in his chest, Adam’s f- no. Adam’s enemy, is still torturing him. After decades and centuries of pain and suffering, why must Herobrine always have the last word? Why must he mutter words, just to scare him, in the end?

Herobrine smiles wickedly, understanding exactly what his- Adam must be thinking.

“Jag kommer återvända, mitt efterföljare!”

And he disappears into a purple mist. Is that supposed to happen?

~

Adam sighs, setting the sword on his bedside table. Whatever happened then really meant nothing. Herobrine died, and Adam, after all these years, would never have to deal with him again. His legacy remained, but said legacy is not what Herobrine intended.

No, Herobrine’s legacy was with a Hero, not a Brine. A Hero with Brine powers, sure. But not a true, cold hearted Brine.

As if for reassurance, Adam places a hand over his amulet, and his chest. Yes, he feels warmth. Not cold.

He’s the Hero after all, not the Brine

===========================
Alrighty, there's the start of my Christmas Special!

This may or may not be why POO (Power of One- yes, I'm calling it that XD) is running late.

Oh well! I'm almost done writing this altogether. This one's updating schedule will be sporadic and unorganized. Like an idea dump with an actual plot.

As for you Martians, enjoy your Christmas Special!

Snickers out!