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To my dearest and most beloved. If you read this then most likely I have perished and this letter has been recovered off of the empty skeleton of the Aurora, the research ship I was on. We have been stranded in the ice for nearly seven days now without any sign of thaw. Our expedition to the North Pole, a place that had been rumored to hold the Northern Passage, has failed. There is no Northern Passage, only ice that stretches much farther than any eye can see. I doubt that even a bird would dare this treacherous region. Perhaps during the summer when the temperature is warmer and more fair, but I would not believe so from what I've seen.

For many days the rest of the crew and I have worked tirelessly, beating upon the ice that slowly crawls up the side of the ship like the tentacles of the mighty Kraken. While the beast would bring us to a swift end, the ice brings us to a slow and cold one. I do not know if we will run out of supplies first or fuel to keep us warm. Some have decided to brave the wilderness, taking their share of the supplies that had been expertly split by the Captain on the first day and then marching off into the whiteness. The same thoughts of marching south have crossed my mind, but I fear that I will only come across the bodies of my fellow sailors who have succumbed to the wrath of nature. Nay, I will go north instead.

Many have called me a lune for thinking of such a thing, but I have come to accept the inevitable while they have not. I have come here to get to the North Pole and so I shall. The maps say that it is but a few days walk and there is still a healthy supply of bread and salted meats. I shall take my share while it is still there and go. These will be my final words. Hope that if I am to be found, I will be collapsed at the top of the world.

Take care,

-Mark

Mark put down his feather pen and looked at the short note he had written on his last piece of paper. The rest had been burned along with all of the other books and burnable materials except for the ship itself. He had been allowed to keep the small scrap of paper that he blew on to dry the ink just for this purpose. Everyone had written their final words which were to be stored in the Captain Brenan's main office where they would go unmolested.

When the ink was dry, he carefully folded the note so the ink would not smudge if some snow were to get on it. He didn't go right away. He held onto it for a moment, realizing that these truly were his last words. When he was writing, he had been focusing on what to say and not the weight that each word would carry if it were ever delivered to his family back in the United States. His sons would have to take up the mantle and care for the sisters and their mother. He had a trust set up with the university which would take care of them for some time, which was good. Mark rarely ever left anything up to chance.

He smiled softly at the irony. The one time he threw everything to chance, it screwed him over. Those who knew him would one day joke about his tragedy as they always do. He only hoped that they thought of him as a good man, he had worked so hard to create a good image for himself. He was a good father and husband who helped whenever possible. He was sure, absolutely positive that he would be remembered fondly of.

Mark gave a stern nod, reassured that everything that could be taken care of had been. He slipped the note into the pocket on the inside of his thick down coat which he had reluctantly plucked off of the body of a deck hand who had succumbed to the cold when he had gone out one night for a piss. It was terrifying to think that he had frozen solid before he could relieve himself and hurry back inside. Now everyone went through small hole that had been carved out of the side of the ship or into a bucket that would be dumped every day. The body, after being picked clean of everything useful had been dumped off of the side of the ship into a small hole in the ice that had been hastily dug. This had been done with all that had died for Captain Brenan had made it explicitly clear that any act of cannibalism would be punished with death. Not a minute after the body was disposed of, the hole in the ice was solid again.

Mark pushed open the door that led from the sleeping gallery where everyone rested during the night with some effort. A new layer of ice had formed on the hinges, forcing Mark to give the door a few good kicks and shoves before it gave way. As soon as the slightest crack was exposed to the outside, a gust of freezing salty air hit him in the face, instantly forcing him to draw up and arm to shield himself. A few seconds of that and the cold air stopped long enough for him to push past and get onto the deck of the ship where the rest of the remaining crew were hard at work breaking the ice.

The Aurora was not a large ship. It had been a naval interceptor used to stop pirates, but new technologies had made it obsolete for combat, but it was a good solid ship that could travel at a decent pace. The university had bought it just for this expedition. They had expected it to be able to get to the North Pole and be back before the winter freeze to report their findings, but that had not been the case. Bad weather had delayed the entire voyage for several weeks and even then, those who were funding the expedition had wanted to launch despite it being the beginning of December. In the end, those with the money got what they wanted.

Mark walked past the men as they bashed against the ice with anything sturdy, even the cook was out with his cleaver since all of the food that was worth cooking had been eaten already. Some nodded to him, knowing of his plans, others ignored him or even gave him nasty glares. Most understood why he was leaving, but some thought that he was abandoning that. They called him a coward behind his back, but secrets could not be kept on a ship. Word of their whispers reached his ears quickly and he did not curse them for it. In a way, he agreed.

Mark walked up the stairs that led to the Captain's quarters and gave the door which had a fine engraved golden plaque on it a solid three knocks. A voice from inside which Mark barely heard over the sound of breaking ice behind him beckoned him to enter and so he did. The door gave way easily since the ice had already been cleared. He quickly closed it behind him as to not let the warmth escape.

"Mark." Captain Brenan, a tall sturdy man who hailed from British Canada said as a greeting as he sat at his desk. He was going over all of the officials files, deciding what he could burn and what he should keep in case of rescue. The Captain did not entertain himself with beliefs of rescue, but he could not let the rest of the crew learn of that so he kept busy with official work.

"Captain." Mark replied and blew into his icy hands to get some feeling back into them. Even the few short moments to walk across the deck had left them blue and numb. The ships meteorologist which had been adamantly against the expedition in the first place had predicted that it was no warmer than twenty below zero.

"Take a seat." The Captain offered the barrel that had been placed down to replace the chair that was now burned and Mark took it. The barrel was not sturdy and it wobbled slightly. Once Mark had steadied himself, the Captain continued. "I take it that you are leaving today to go north?" It wasn't a question that needed to be answered. Mark had told the Captain about his intentions several days in advance.

"Yes sir." Mark nodded slowly and dug into his coat for his letter which he set down on the Captain's desk. "I have written my last words for my family. It is nothing special, but it is something."

The Captain reached out and took it. "I'll make sure no one on the ship reads or burns it if the fuel runs out." He promised as he opened up the top right drawer of his desk and dropped it atop the pile of other letters that had already been turned in. "You are entitled to three days rations." He said as he shut the drawer and refocused on the shivering man. The Captain's office wasn't heated. The only thing that gave off any sort of heat was the small candle that gave off a lovely pine scent. "I cannot spare any more, especially for you since you go north where there is no chance of rescue."

"I understand, sir." Mark said. He was actually expecting less and therefore would not complain and risk losing a day. "I plan to set off before mid-day."

"Then I will not keep you any longer." The Captain extended his hand out and Mark took it. "I hope you make it to the top." Captain Brenan said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster from his failing reserves and left it at that.

Mark gave his thanks and left the Captain to his duties. He wasn't one for long goodbyes. If he had known that this would have happened, he would have given his family more than a simple "goodbye" and a peck on the cheek. Though, if he knew that the expedition would freeze, he simple wouldn't have gone.

With no need to linger on the past, Mark made is way down to the bottom of the ship where the food stores where. There he found the ship's First Officer, a gangly boy who was only there to make sure that the money of the financers were being put to good use. Now he was in charge of making sure the food wasn't stolen from since he was too weak to do any hard labor. Most everyone despised him since he was next to useless, but regarded himself the most important. At least he was trustworthy, he was so stuck up with his job that it was doubtful that he would ever steal food.

"I've come to collect my share." Mark announced to the boy who was mulling over the food, constantly checking and counting even though he was often the only person there for most of the day. The crew only came down at the end of the day to get their food, leaving the boy with his small lamp alone.

"The coward finally crawls out of the wood work to steal some food before running." The boy didn't even turn to look at mark as he stood with his arms crossed. He knew that he was going to get a bit of an earful and he could not strike the boy out of spite either. He was still on the Captain's ship so he would abide by them.

"The Captain has given me three days rations." He ignored the First Officer's insults, just wanting to get it over with. "Nothing more, NOTHING LESS." He put a bit of a warning behind his voice to make sure he wasn't going to be cheated.

"Yes, yes." The boy waved a hand at him. "Captain was very clear that you get the food." He pulled a sack out from one of the shelves and began to meticulously pluck items and food to be put into it. "I don't know why Captain lets you and the rest go so easily." He mostly talked to himself, but didn't mind if Mark heard either. "Should just shoot you all and let those who want to survive keep the food." He finished filling the bag and shoved it at Mark's chest. "I hope you die within sight so I can get that nice coat of yours." He gave a wicked grin, his brown, tobacco stained teeth showing. Mark would have loved to have just punched that face in and leave it at that, but he didn't. He took the bag and quickly gave a peek inside.

"It's all there you rat." He said impatiently, tapping his foot. "I ain't no cheat." He indeed wasn't, it was all there. Three days of meat and bread along with a few flasks of rum. All in all, it wasn't much, but it would be enough. Mark even believed that he would be able to stretch for an extra day if he was careful in case it took longer than expected to reach the pole.

A quick return to his personal chest to get the rest of his winter clothes and a map, then he was off. No goodbyes or farewells, he simple hopped off the side of the ship onto the ice. He wasn't afraid of falling through, if the ice was that thin, then the ship would have broken free a long time ago.

Using the sun which was still rising from the east as a quick guide, Mark set off walking. He kept every part of his body covered except for his eyes and just began walking. He didn't let his eyes wander at all, in fear that he would begin to walk in circles and would just end up at the ship again. He walked for several hours before he decided to stop to check the map for the first time.

He judged that at his current pace, from where the ship was, the North Pole was less than one hundred miles away and would take three days. He could make it if he continued on strongly. He stowed the map in one of the many folds of his clothes and took a look behind him. His tracks were as straight as any sober man's and there was no longer any sign of the boat anymore. There was just white blinding snow in every direction.

With a quick sip from one of his flasks that he filled back up with snow as he drunk, he set off once again.

The walking was hard, mostly because the snow was deep. Mark found himself mostly trudging along. He kept his mind off the slow pace that only slowed more as he left fresh ice and began to reach ice that was there all year long and therefore had more layers of snow on it.

Before long, the sun was setting, but it never really went down entirely. It would just peak under the horizon for a few hours before rising once again. Twilight was the closest Mark got to night and he took what he could. He spent his first "night" in a small hole he dug out of the snow. It was surprisingly warm since he didn't know that snow was a good insulator. His dreams were plagued with images of everything that he left behind.

When he woke up, his body ached everywhere and it was of course, still very bright out. Breakfast was a few pieces of dried meat, a loaf of bread and a few drinks of watered down rum. It wasn't much, but it did stop the hunger pains that wracked his stomach. Then it was another day of walking.

Nothing happened the entire day. There was no sign of life anywhere, not even birds, only the sound of the blowing wind was Mark's companion and his own words since he kept busy by talking to himself. The subjects of his talking ranged widely from his childhood to the economy. Anything to keep his mind busy from the monotonous work of walking.

It was on the beginning of the third day that something did happen.

Mark woke up tired, he felt like just lying down and going back to sleep, but he was so close. His body was also sluggish, whenever he wanted to take a step, it felt like it took several seconds for his foot to move, but move it did. His plan to ration had gone down the drain fast and he was now down to his last piece of meat and bread and the watered down rum he had was frozen solid and forced him to tuck the bottle against him to melt any. Even if he were left with absolutely nothing, he knew that he would be able to go on for a few more days.

The day seemed a bit warmer which was a nice relief, even just a few degrees difference was noticeably different and that gave Mark a bit more energy to push himself a little bit more than usual. It was because of this push that he got a few extra miles in that day before the twilight set in and those few extra miles let him get close enough to the North Pole to see something that he would not expect in the slightest.

There, in the distance was a deer, a large deer with a majestic rack of antlers atop its head. At first, Mark couldn't believe it, there was no reason for deer to be this far out in the frozen waste. The nearest forest that could sustain such an animal would have been hundreds, if not, thousands of miles in any direction.

The deer hoofed at the ground and snorted as it watched Mark who slowly approached it. Golden bells jingled as it shifted its body to face the man who froze in place. He was still several hundred meters away, but he didn't want to scare it away. For some reason that he could not explain, seeing the creature made him happy. Perhaps it was just the sight of another living creature or maybe the sun had fried his head, either way, he felt something inside of him push him to get closer.

When it became clear that the deer which had a strange red harness on it wasn't going to run, he continued to move again. He noticed a strange shimmer behind the deer which, as he got closer, was definitely some sort of reindeer. The shimmer distorted his view of everything behind the deer and slowly grew stronger and more blurry as he got closer.

When Mark was but ten meters away, the deer gave a loud snort before turning tail and prancing away in a playful manner.

Mark called out to it, trying to get its attention again long enough for it to stop, but to no avail. The reindeer pranced off several meters until it simply vanished. One second it was there, the next it wasn't.

Mark blinked a few times. Was it all just a hallucination? The shimmering was still there and as strong as ever. It seemed like some witchcraft to him which made him consider turning around and trying to get to the North Pole another way, but that could take days. Days he didn't have. Even if it was some witch, he had accepted that he wasn't going to come out of it alive and that he might as well try and experience as much as he could, essentially finishing up his bucket list while he still could.

Clenching his fists and readying himself for anything, Mark marched forward towards the shimmer that the reindeer had disappeared through. He didn't feel anything, but what he saw took his breath away.

There was the reindeer, standing within arm's reach of him, but there was so much more. An entire village appeared before him, replacing the unforgiving snow with dirt and houses were short men and women were working. They carried crates and barrels or led other reindeer from stall. It was also warm. Warm enough that Mark would have taken off a layer of clothing if it he had not been so amazed at the sight.

"Prancer!" A loud booming voice that easily carried across the entire village startled Mark. "There you are. You always seem to run off at the worst times" A large man in red velvet attire and a pointed hat to match walked up to the reindeer which didn't react at all other than look. The man patted the reindeer on its side and then looked over it and saw Mark. "And it seems you brought a friend." He walked around the animal which walked off towards the village where a short man in a green uniform led it off. "Why hello there." The man said in a less menacing.

"G... good day." Mark stammered out as he looked at the man who never seemed to let his wide grin fade from his blushed cheeks. "Where am I?" He could have asked many questions, but that one seemed most appropriate at the time.

The man chuckled. "This is the North Pole and I am Santa Claus. Saint Nick will work as well."

"Saint Nick? The one from the poems and stories?" Mark asked, remembering the old tales his mother would tell him of a man by the name Saint Nicholas who would put coins in the shoes of those who left them out for him. That man had lived over one thousand years ago though. "That's impossible."

Saint Nick gave out a hearty chuckle and slapped Mark on the back as if he were having a good ol' bash with an old friend. "You see all of this..." He waved a hand at the town. "and you say that me being thee Saint Nicholas is impossible."

"It should all be impossible." Mark said and that got him another slap.

"But here I am, here is all of this. Obviously it isn't impossible."

"I suppose not." Mark admitted since he was seeing it all and no matter how many times he blinked or rubbed his eyes, nothing changed. Maybe he had already died and this was some sort of limbo, but he had no way of telling.

"What's your name son?" Saint Nick asked as he led the man through the town as the elves around him worked tirelessly and devoutly.

"Mark... Mark Huntsman."

"Ahh, yes." Saint Nick tapped a finger to his chin. "Raised by a middle class family in Boston where you worked as a dock worker. You were well liked and did your best to help others when you can. A very nice person indeed."

"How do you..."

"It's part of the job." Saint Nick answered before he could ask and opened a door to a large cottage where the smell of fresh food made Mark's mouth water. "You must gone a very far distance to reach this place." Mark nodded as he was seated at a table with Saint Nick seating himself across from him. Food was brought out, a bowl of some sort of hot porridge and milk. "I did not think it was possible to for this place to be discovered."

"I guess nothing truly is impossible." Mark said right before he took a bit of the porridge. The hot soup was heavenly and heated him right to his core, instantly chasing out any remnants of the cold that were still in him.

"I guess not." Saint Nick agreed and took a sip from his cup of milk. "I will see to it that you are taken care of for the night and I will take you back home in time, but not tonight, I have much to do tonight as you may know."

He didn't know and when he told this to the jolly man, Saint Nick was almost offended. "Tomorrow is Christmas!" Mark blushed at his ignorance, he had completely forgotten which made him feel guilty for even going on the expedition since he would not get the chance to spend time with his family.

"I do not think that you family will mind a late Christmas gift."

"What of the families of the ship I came on, the Aurora." Mark had to ask since he feared that they may still be stranded out there.

"The ship broke free of the ice this morning." Saint Nick said which brought much relief to his heart. "I had thought that everyone was still on board which is why I was shocked to see anyone here."

"Thank god."

"Yes, it is truly a miracle." Saint Nick looked out of the window and tracked the sun. He was nearly late already. "Oh my." He got up from his seat. "I better get going. Like I said, you will be taken care of until I can bring you to a place where you will make it back home safely." He put on his hefty jacket that was handed to him by a pair of elves. "However, I cannot allow you to remember any of this. It would be a disaster for people to learn of me."

"A small price to pay to see my family again." Mark didn't argue, he had gone north, expecting to die, instead he was getting his best Christmas present he could wish for, even if it was going to be a few days late.