Page 52 of Kraved By Krampus

Then Clara’s hand finds mine, and her magic, raw and untamed, crashes into my own like a tidal wave.

Chapter twenty-five

Clara

Istumble back as Victoria’s magic tears through the village square, ice shards ripping through awnings and shattering windows.

“Children, to me!” Mrs. Redmond’s voice rings out, no longer the quiet librarian’s whisper but a commanding tone that brooks no argument. Her silver hair whips in an unseen wind as she stands at the library steps, arms spread wide.

The young ones sprint toward her, their small boots clattering on the icy street. My heart clenches as Victoria’s magic lashes out, but Mrs. Redmond’s hands glow with a deep purple light I’ve never seen before.

“You abandoned your duty, Eleanor,” Victoria’s voice echoes unnaturally. “The Winter Court stripped your power.”

“No.” Mrs. Redmond’s eyes blaze. “I chose to lay it down. And now I choose to reclaim it.”

The library doors burst open, ancient wood groaning as waves of protective magic pour forth. The children dash inside as Mrs. Redmond’s power surges, reinforcing the building’s wards until they’re visible—shimmering barriers of deep purple and midnight blue.

My feet move before my brain catches up, guiding more children toward the building’s protective walls. The library seems to lean forward, its gargoyles turning their heads to track Victoria’s movements.

“You can’t hide them forever.” Victoria’s words carry on a bitter wind that whips through the square. “The Light Court will have order.”

I usher the last child through the entrance just as Mrs. Redmond’s voice rises in an ancient language. The card catalog drawers burst open, cards swirling around her like autumn leaves. Each one glows with stored magic, and I realize they’re not catalog cards at all—they’re centuries of collected spells.

Mrs. Redmond stands straighter, power flowing through her as she reclaims what she’d locked away so long ago.

Victoria’s attack slams against the library’s defenses. The impact reverberates through my bones, but the wards hold.

The air crackles with tension as Victoria raises her frost-covered hands. “Take them.”

Light Court warriors that are flanking her begin to advance. I run back to Krampus’s side and grab his hand, drawing strength from his solid presence beside me.

I won’t let her hurt anyone else.

Magic surges through my veins as I throw up individual shields around each townsperson. The power flows naturally now, like writing a story where each character gets their own arc.

Hank bursts from the Frost & Flame, coffee cups floating behind him like caffeinated missiles. Steaming liquid hits two warriors in the face, their screams piercing the winter air. “Nobody threatens my customers!”

Through the window of Winter’s Wardrobe, I spot the clothing designer directing an army of enchanted scarves. They wrap around warriors’ throats and yank them off their feet.

“Your magic is weak, Victoria.” Krampus’s voice rumbles next to me. “You’ve forgotten winter’s true nature.”

A warrior charges at us with a light-forged blade. I strengthen the shield around us instinctively, but Theo from the antique shop beats me to the warrior. Ancient artifacts fly from his store, surrounding the warrior in a whirlwind of sharp objects.

My shields hold as more attacks bounce off them. Each one feels like a story being written—unique, personal, tailored to protect exactly what makes each person special.

“The light is not meant to destroy.” Mrs. Redmond’s voice carries from the library steps. Her collected spell cards swirl around warriors, binding them in chains of purple light. “It’s meant to illuminate the truth.”

I watch in awe as Winterhaven fights back, not with destructive force, but with the everyday magic that makes this place special. The baker’s enchanted rolling pins, the toy-maker’s animated stuffed animals, the bookstore’s flying novels—all working together to protect their home.

This is what real magic looks like, I realize.Not light versus dark, but community versus chaos.

Another wave of power flows through me as I maintain the shields, my grip on Krampus’s hand never wavering. Together we stand in the middle of it all, darkness and creativity united against those who would destroy what makes winter wonderful.

Power surges between Krampus and me, our joined hands crackling with energy. His darkness weaves with my creative force, forming something entirely new. The magic feels right, natural, like the final chapter of a story falling perfectly into place.

Victoria’s ice magic shatters against our combined shield. Her usually controlled expression falters, revealing the desperation beneath.

“You don’t understand what you’re doing.” Frost spreads from her feet, creeping across the square. “The balance must be maintained.”

---