A Christmas Trip to Xanadu
By: Nicole Neal
Tags: Short Story, Short Fiction, Sff, Christmas Story, Portal Fantasy

Ash Jensen laid back into the dragon’s horde of shredded wrapping paper, the colorful mountain swallowing him hole to the amusement of his family. “You’ve got one more here.” Adam brushed the paper away and set the palm sized square present on his brother’s chest. “Merry Christmas ya doof.”

“Weird, it doesn’t say who it’s from.” He sighed and let his eyes roll back, another one of Adam’s pranks. It was bad enough he hadn’t gotten anything he’d asked for after spending hundreds on their gifts. He played along for the gift as their mother sat down on the couch to watch.

“Well it ain’t from me, but who cares.” He smiled and ripped into another leftover piece of turkey. “Just open the damn thing and be happy.”

“Oh Adam!” Mother glared from beneath. The brim of the hat, her eyebrows pinched together and beak of nose pointed up at his brother’s face. Adam grimaced and shrugged.

“Thanks for the trust guys. I appreciate it, really.” He put his hand into his pockets and slumped against the wall.

Ash turned the lightweight square over a few times in his hands. The wrapping paper was an iridescent shade of plum, and resembled none of the other gifts. “Where did you come from?” His voice cracked as it reached for the childlike curiosity the gift inspired, even if it was a joke.

He pulled the brown string bow and set it aside, gently removing the tape that held the material in place. It peeled off smooth and the wrapping unfolded to reveal a Tiger’s Eye bracelet sitting atop an Amethyst square.

“Maybe you should put that down.” Adam stepped forward to grab the gift, but the stone began to glow, a low hum ebbed with each pulse of the light.

“Wait.” Ash leaned in closer. “It’s doing something. Adam what is this thing?”

“I told you bro, this isn’t me. I found it sitting right on that table while you were swimming in the trash.”

“Honey what is that?” His mother squawked from beneath the fuzzy brim of her oversized hat. Ash shook his head confused, but not taking his eyes off of the mesmerizing crystal. His gut told him to put the bracelet on, but his sense urged him to put it back into it’s resting place and never speak of it again. But it was pleasing, to see, and it was beautiful.

Adam reached down to grab the bracelet, “No!” Ashe yelled, shoving his hand into the beaded strand allowing the crystal to drop into the sea of trash at his feet.

“See everything is fine, just a regular . . . Accessory.” When he looked back up expecting to see his brother’s concerned face coming at him, and yet he didn’t see anything at all. Anything except for a tiny glowing square beyond the endless darkness.

Everything, even sound, was gone. The light above, or was it below, pulses like the crystal square. The humming reverberated through his DNA.

His stomach turned as he couldn’t make out any sense of space and time in the darkness, both suffocating and infinite. Ash ripped the smooth stone bracelet off, and yet only the door remained. He clutched the cursed relic as the pit in his stomach twisted and throbbed. What if this is the end? The thought felt like the anticipation of a shotgun blast to the chest.

Ash swallowed into his chest and ran to the beat of his fluttering heart. The royal purple glow expanded into an amethyst door as he came closer. His throat burned as he ran hard and breathed harder until he thudded off the door and fell back into the soft arms of the abyss.

The door grew seven stories tall and creeped open just a peak; Golden light shimmered in the etched filigree along the doors polished edge. The darkness dissolved as the world on the other side of the portal flooded his vision. His head spun as a thick forest of glowing purple leaves and sapphire trees populated before his eyes. A small otter like creature walked up to him with a curious hop in his step. “Why hello there friend. What brings you to Xanadu?”

Ash reached out and shook the creatures outstretched hand, unable to produce the thought necessary to speak. “Never mind that, you’ve ended up here for one reason or another. I’m Gunther.”

“Gunther, right. Are you an otter?And I’m sorry,” he stammered a few jumbled words that even he didn’t understand. “I don’t think I know where here actually is.”

“Xanadu, you know the dimension of the lost. Plane of regret. Crispy hopes and dreams.”

“Wait am I dead? Do I have to die to be here?”

Gunther looked down at the stone bracelet, “You just had to want to.”

Ash dropped into the lush foliage beneath him, ignoring the mud slipping between his toes. He clasped the jewelry in both hands at his heart praying to anything who would hear him. They were gone, and so was he.

“That won’t work here. You can’t fake your way home.”

“Then how do I leave?”

“You have to want to. And not on the surface, you have to mean it and feel it with every fiber of your being. Maybe you don’t mean it.”

He shook the band, “If you know that then why are you here.”

The otter shrugged his shoulders and continued his way down the ever illuminated rainbow path. He stopped before he disappeared over the hill and looked back. “I didn’t mean it.” He carried on and hopped out of sight.

“Ash.” The voice tickled his ear drum and pulled him to the right. He stumbled through the bushes, retracting his hands as the leaves sliced through his hands. “Ash.”

“Is that you Adam?” He ran towards the voice frantically. “Adam!” He shoved the razor bushes out of his way and hurtled down the overgrown path into a misty valley.

“Ash!” His brother’s voice became frantic. He choked on his fear at the same time as he cringed in his shame. His brother’s face after he didn’t believe him about the gift flashed into his mind.

His foot caught on a vine, and he tumbled head over tail into the dense fog. Leaves and branches slapped him back and forth, until he finally landed on solid ground. Above him was a cave designed with decorative eggs of the turquoise glow worm along the warm mice fractures in the rock.

“Ash.” His brother’s voice echoed from somewhere inside the cave. Ash wiped the blood from his brow and splashed a handful of the immaculate spring water onto his face before heading into the stone tunnels.

He walked for miles through the sopping wet cave, choking on the mist in places where the path constricted, before coming upon an opening that lit up much like the living room of his home. Adam sat on the piano bench, hands bound behind his back with a single ball and chain to heavy for him to move. “Help me brother.”

Adam spoke, but he wasn’t looking to him. His eyes widened as he watched himself walk down the stairs scoffing at his trapped brother. He could feel the hatred that seeped from his skin, and the envy that had poisoned his demeanor. “I’m sorry.” He inhaled the words as the image blurred under his tears.

He walked into the kitchen where his saw his mother stirring her family famous hot apple cider. A tear dropped onto a heavily creased photo of a twelve year old Adam holding toddler ash up on his shoulders. She’d had such hope that day, and the boys in the picture pulled her strings just as much as the man who’d never take another picture.

She wiped her eyes and looked up at him. “We were never good enough for you.” The words burned in his ribcage with the fire of guilt. He wanted to beg her forgiveness, he wanted to hug his brother, but he still hadn’t gone home.

“Maybe we were always perfect, and I’m just an ass.”

As the words came out of his mouth the bracelet began to vibrate and heat up in his hand. He looked down to see the Tiger’s eye beads sitting back atop the Amethyst plate with the same pulsating glow.

Adam snatched the bracelet from his hand as if Ash had never disappeared at all. He wondered for a brief moment, if the band would take him too, but it didn’t matter. He was home, and was grateful.

Ashe hugged his brother and smiled up at his mom just in time to catch the tear glistening in her eyes. Her smile lit up and filled him with warmth. “Merry Christmas family.” He glanced down at the glowing beads and whispered a silent thank you.