Prelude: Fatal Vision
There was an old folk’s tale. This tale originated in the old standing, and desolated kingdom of Arendelle. It contained everything one may pull from a fairy tale, but these stories are very much real. But unfortunately no ending was ever recorded, so many have speculated their own. While they are all happy endings, the true story ended in tragedy and punishment.
The forest ground crunched beneath her feet as she stepped on the fallen leaves. Her snow skin tugged the white fabric of her cloak closer to her. Her long brown hair, although tucked behind the cloak, bounced on her lower back. She kept wandering aimlessly in the forest and through the fog that concealed it; her daily routine that she followed. Never once breaking it in the years she had been alive. Her feet dragged her to a cliffside that overlooked a waterfall. Her eyes landed on the two pillars that still stood. Those pillars were once connecting ends to a dam that she never knew, but remembered all too well. The breeze shook her cloak and dress lightly and she took a deep breath. “Where the North Wind meets the sea. There’s a river, full of memory.” Her melodic voice lulled any stirring forces to sleep very quickly. So the once raging waterfall had calmed very quickly. “Sleep, my darling, safe and sound. For in this river all is found.” A shiver ran up her spine, letting a soft gasp leave her mouth; abruptly stopping the famous lullaby she would sing on the daily.
The wind started to harshly blow, sweeping any loose debris in its path. The waterfall had started to rage and the earth softly shook. And a line of purple fire had begun to glow. She was sent into a small panic before regathering herself and processing everything happening. She looked to her small hands and saw magic coming out of them, but not on her command. The swirls of magic clouded and showed images. Very terrifying images. It was a repeat of what happened on that day. The day when the forest was first closed by the spirits. There was fighting on both sides, between the Arendellians and Northuldrans. But there was one key thing that made one vision different from the others. It was a different scene, one she had never seen before nor does she remember. Instead of King Ruenard falling over the cliff and to his doom, he was there in front of a woman. Sword clasped tightly in his hand, he impaled the woman right in the chest and left her corpse there to die. His piercing glare looked over to the surprised female dressed in white and pointed his weapon towards her.
“For Arendelle.” He spoke. He turned around to walk away but the magic faded and disappeared. The brunette female started to let the panic sink in as she started panting heavily. She looked to her trembling hands and brought them up before, with a simple swipe from them both, sent out a wave of aether and silenced the spirits immediately. Still with her hands glowing, she raised them to the sky and a crystal snowflake showcasing the five elements appeared in front of her.
“It’s time.” She spoke, “they have matured enough and a threat is on its way. It’s time they reconnect to who they once were, and bring them back home.” The snowflake withered into particles and shot into the misty sky. They formed into the spirit symbol that could be seen on the other side of the mist. A high voice sang out before flashing and disappearing. Her head bowed and the breeze had returned to normal. “It’s time I avenge both you and your sister…
Our sister.”
