My worldview has been shaped by many stories, but only The Witcher series, by Andrej Sapkowski, has left an indelible mark in my mind. That mark is as strong now as the day I first read the books. I shouldn’t have enjoyed the story. Its hero is eternally reluctant, every supporting character is flawed in a way that makes them hard to love, and the setting is a grisly mishmash of environmental and political dangers. Geralt, the hero, clings to his ingrained neutrality until Fate forces him into a quest to save the child he loves, a child who he did not want in the first place. It’s a dark tale that spends entire volumes dangling glimmers of light that never manifest into a happy ending. The story is at once too realistic and thoroughly drenched in fantasy. The Witcher’s life is no fairytale: he struggles, he loses, he grieves, and his every weakness is exploited. Geralt’s small successes and many failures parallel the adversities that we face in the real world. He dies at the end of the series, with his quest arguably left unfilled. As a lover of happy endings, those final few pages were hard to read.

That tragedy is what impressed me so vividly. Life is not easy, even in a fairytale. Having all the skills you need to survive doesn’t mean that survival is assured. We live in a world with dangers beyond our control, and although those dangers aren’t as grotesque as Geralt’s kikimora, they are just as lethal. Even heroes die eventually. Geralt’s neutrality, which I found so irritating at first, was an uncomfortable mirror of my own tendency to watch and wait, to fly under the radar of those many dangers. Geralt eventually learned to be proactive and face those dangers head on, and, surprisingly, he lost. Sometimes it takes watching the hero lose to realize that failure is better than inaction. He made the choice to soldier through the failures, to accept losing the battle, and then the war, so that he could die with a clear conscience.

I loved The Witcher’s story because it had a message that I needed to hear. It doesn’t promise happy endings or an easy journey, and it doesn’t promise that the supporting cast will always be loveable. It promises that the journey is worthwhile because it is necessary. It promises that even if life is peppered with one tragedy after another, there will still be glimmers of light flickering in the darkness. Happy endings are not guaranteed, but I’ve learned to enjoy those glimmers of hope when they come. I’ve learned to soldier through my failures and disappointments. Like Geralt, even if the ending isn’t what I wanted, I plan to die with a clear conscience.

Agent Cynthia L. Who

Department of Defense

Covert Support Division

Washington, D.C.

Dear Agent Who,

I was glad to hear that my last report reached your office unimpeded, despite the rather unconventional means I had to employ. I apologize for the mix-up with air traffic control, but apparently they thought I was “kidding around” when I told them to disregard any reindeer-sized bogeys over D.C. Don’t worry, I’m requisitioning some “spare parts” from the latest batch of PlayStations so we can transition these reports to a digital format and skip the middle man.

Big Red’s plans are gearing up as expected. Buddy’s initial estimate regarding the number of scouts being employed was surprisingly accurate. Big Red’s diverted seventy percent of his elf workforce to the scouting division. It’s a pretty sharp increase from previous years, and the old geezer has decreased production downtime and doubled shifts to compensate for his limited factory workforce. Seems like he’s determined to maintain appearances as long as the elves don’t strike again. They staged a walk-out last year, but this year he’s been lacing the cocoa with some kind of mood suppressant to keep everyone in line. I’ll send a sample with Prancer. See if the boys in the lab can isolate it so I know what I’m dealing with. I’d rather not end up like Buddy. Death by chocolate isn’t as fun as it sounds.

I managed to intercept a few of the scouting reports, and it’s as bad as we thought. He’s got everything. Names, addresses, passwords, account numbers, and it doesn’t stop there. You would not believe the places some parents will hide those stupid elves. Try to use your imagination, and you’ll get the picture. Believe me, there’s enough dirt sitting in the cabinets of the North Pole to sink every government except maybe Switzerland. Big Red seems to leave them alone, for some reason. Of course, he’s in deep with the cocoa suppliers. Maybe they cut a deal. You can check that on your end.

Still haven’t gotten a lead on where he keeps The List. I thought it might have been one of those red herrings he gins up every so often to throw people off the trail, but Rudy claims he’s actually seen it. Not sure if I believe him, considering how often he stays lit, but if I had his job, I’d be hitting the cocoa pretty hard myself.

No dice on that plan with the Mrs., FYI. She isn’t a player. You’d think that the shine would have warn off in the last few centuries, but she’s still crazy about the guy. That might be an angle to work. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and I have it from Rudy that Big Red’s been talking the sleigh out unaccompanied some nights. It might be nothing, but it wouldn’t hurt to check in on the usual suspects. Start with the Tooth Fairy. Buddy said she was easy on the eyes, in spite of the wings. Ho-ho-ho.

I’ll let you know if I find anything else, but don’t expect another report until after the big day. You’ll know if the plan worked before I will. They keep the elves on a news blackout up here, for “morale” purposes. Not joking. Regardless, now that I’ve flipped two of the reindeer to our side, sabotaging that sleigh should be a piece of cake. The sleigh team only has one alternate. Shouldn’t be hard to arrange an incident at the reindeer games tomorrow. If Weather Wizard comes through with that blizzard, Big Red should disappear somewhere over the North Atlantic. Prancer’s looking forward to getting some revenge on that whip-happy eavesdropper. Rudy’s nervous, but I think he’ll do his part all right, with Prancer there to keep him in line. Just have that evac ready for them. I promised Prancer a three-week stay in Fiji if this actually works.

Here’s hoping for a merry Christmas.

Stay frosty,

Pepper Mint