Jingleberry's small frame seemed to shrink further as he absorbed Santa's words. The elf had known his boss for longer than most mortals had been alive, and he recognized the particular exhaustion that came not from a single bad day, but from centuries of accumulated burden. Still, he couldn't accept it.
"Sir, please," Jingleberry pleaded, his voice cracking. "Yes, you're tired. Yes, Reginald is a disaster. But running away won't fix that. It will only make it worse. The elves look to you. The traditions, the magic itself—it all flows from you."
Santa closed his eyes, and Jingleberry saw how deeply lined his face had become. When had that happened? When had his jolly boss become this hollow version of himself?
"That's exactly the problem, Jingleberry," Santa said softly. "Everything flows from me. Everything depends on me. And I'm so very, very tired of being the only one who can hold it all together. Maybe it's time I discovered what I am without Christmas."
The words landed like a physical blow. Jingleberry realized, with sudden clarity, that this wasn't just about today's firing. This was about something deeper—a crisis of purpose that had been building for far longer than either of them had acknowledged.
"What if there is nothing without Christmas?" Jingleberry whispered, voicing the fear that had suddenly gripped him.
Santa opened his eyes and looked at his faithful elf with an expression of profound sadness. "Then perhaps I deserve to find out."
Jingleberry stood on trembling legs, understanding that this moment represented a turning point he couldn't prevent. Santa was resolute in a way the elf had rarely witnessed—not with anger or defiance, but with the calm certainty of someone who had finally surrendered to something inevitable.
"I'll pack your things," Jingleberry said quietly, though the words tasted like ashes in his mouth. "Where will you go?"
Santa looked out at the Arctic darkness beyond his window, considering the question as though he'd never thought about it before. "Somewhere warm," he finally answered. "Somewhere where no one knows who I am. Somewhere I can simply be... someone else."
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