Prologue
Jack Frost
'One, two, three,' I think to myself before I leap off of the ledge. My heart catches in my throat, the fear seizing up in me before the wind picks me up and blows me along, far from touching the ground. After twenty five years of this and I still haven't gotten used to it.
The stars twinkle in the navy light of the sky. I stare up at the bright, round moon, illuminating the clouds across the heavens.
"Why? Why do you make me so alone?" I wonder as I soar along, glimpsing children being tucked in, parents kissing them goodnight.
Sure, the first few years were great, figuring out my powers, exploring the world. But now, I sometimes see a family, or someone's friend, and the dark spot in my heart seems to grow a little bit bigger.
"Just please have someone see me," I plead as I find sanctuary in a tree.
I drift off, feeling the frosty wind blanket me.
The cold light of the sun leaks through my eyelids, pulling me to consciousness. I yawn and stretch, which causes me to fall off of my branch. I use my staff to keep me from falling, but my grip slips and I am sent tumbling into a snow bank.
A light ringing echoes in the distance. 'Reindeer,' I think, 'which means there will most likely be children. They love me! Even...even though they can't see me.'
I climb back up onto my branch, this time getting a better hold on my staff. The sound of sleighs gliding through the snow is followed by a dialect sounding Norwegian. I attempt to decipher what they're saying.
"I can't wait to arrive in Arendelle, can't you, Klaus?" A woman asks.
"Of course, Marta, of course. And we should try to visit the palace while were there. I heard that the gates are almost always open."
"I don't believe that. Don't they have two beautiful princesses? Wouldn't they want to protect them?"
"I don't know. But, I heard that the king and queen are kind..."
I don't stay to hear the rest of the conversation. I soar above the treetops, the wind rustling my frosty blue hair.
The castle rests in the middle of the fjord, ships glide around the village.
'Why am I here?' I wonder. I guess I am bored. I just feel that I must be here.
I fly to the windowsill, peering inside. A fire crackles in the large hearth. A brunette woman reads to strawberry blonde girl, maybe seven or eight. I sigh, yet another picture of a happy family.
A girl, nine or ten, with wide blue eyes and hair so blonde it's practically white, runs into the room. She stops, staring wide eyed out the window. I turn around, wondering what she sees, and then I realize it's me.
I freeze, my hand squeezing my staff, prepared to flee. She doesn't say anything to the girl and he woman, who don't even glance away from their story. She just calmly walks across the room, a picture of poise and collection. She looks right out the window. Directly into my eyes.
I want to frost the window, maybe draw something or write, but that won't be necessary. She can hear and see me.
Her hands, pressed up against the glass, have frost collecting around them.
I remove my hands, not wanting to freeze hers. The frost doesn't stop spreading, and I'm bewildered. What's happening?
She starts to slide her hands across the glass, as if drawing or writing if it was fogged. A line of frost, faint and delicate spreads across where she touched.
"Who are you?" I wonder, doubtful she can hear me.
She turns and sits by her sister.
I'm not alone.
"Thank you," I whisper to the man in the moon.
"I'll take care of her. I promise."