IMPORTANT: Anyone who has previously read or is following this story (which was previously called When The Darkness Strikes) please read the AN below. First-time readers may skip to the part at the bottom, which is in bolded, underlined italics.
To all previous readers and anyone following this story, this is the writer formerly known as Forever a Cookie. Hey, it's been a while. Months, actually. I've been inactive on as a writer for about half a year now, and I've left both of my on-going fics hanging. But I'm back now with a new pen name, which I will explain in just a moment. But there are a couple of things I want to say before that.
Firstly,I apologise for leaving this fic hanging for so long, without even so much as a hiatus notice. It's not that I didn't want to keep going with it, I just got lost with where I was going. I didn't have much of a plan at all for the original story, and I didn't have much clue where it was headed (which, as any writer will tell you, does not make for a good story). Looking back over it, I was not happy at all with the old story. I briefly considered discontinuing it, but I cannot stand the idea of doing that. So I just let it sit for a few months. Then, over Christmas, Inspiration came running back and I found myself with a completely new design for this story.
This story will not be like its previous incarnation. It's going in a completely new direction, with completely new characters and plot. My main OCs will be familiar, but completely different (or at least one will be. The wolf brother remains a little more similar to his original character). But I personally like this new version a lot better than the old, and I hope you enjoy it too.
There have, however, been other issues. Long story short, my grades last year weren't great, and as a result I have been banned from writing fanfiction. Of course, this had to happen right after I had just written out the prologue for this revised story. I've been toying with the idea of posting it and going on with the story anyway, and eventually decided I needed to get this story out, no matter how long it took (and updates may indeed be few and far between, since I'm busier this year and I intend to focus on my school work more than I did last year). The changed pen name is a precaution. I am now The Writer Cookie.
But yeah, that's the story. I'm a little short on time writing this, so without further ado, let's get to it!
Disclaimer: I am not Disney, therefore I do not own Frozen.
Warning: The chapter below has not been proofread. I'm in a bit of a rush to get it up while I can.
The night was silent. Not a cricket chirped in the grass, not a moth fluttered through the still air. Everything was perfectly still. Beyond the outskirts of the village, in a clearing nestled within the embrace of the forest, sat a small cottage, its windows dark in the moonlight.
The leaves on the trees began to stir as a quiet breeze crept into the clearing. With it came three figures cloaked in black, faces shadowed by hoods, footsteps almost silent on the mossy ground. They crept quietly up to the cottage.
The tallest figure laid his hand on the door, giving it a soft shove. "Locked," he murmured. He motioned one of the smaller figures forward. Wordlessly, the second figure slid two small pieces of wire out of its pocket and went to work. In less than a minute, there was a soft click and the door swung open without another sound.
Quiet as shadows, the three padded through the house, making their way down the hall towards the pair of wooden doors at the end. The tallest figure reached towards the first door and eased it open, peering around the corner to see a small bedroom, the shape of a person curled beneath the bedclothes.
The figure slid into the room and padded over to the bed, pulling back the covers ever so slightly to reveal the sleeping face of a woman. From within his cloak, the figure drew vial, traces of milky liquid lingering in the bottom. The figure tilted the woman's mouth open gently and tilted the vial above her mouth. As the woman frowned and began to stir, a drop of liquid fell from the vial and vanished between her lips. A moment later she relaxed, her breathing even again.
Satisfied, the tall figure returned to his companions, who waited outside the second door.
"The mother?" one of the small figures queried.
The tall figure nodded. "She won't be bothering us."
The nodded in understanding, stepping aside for the taller figure.
The second room was a little smaller than the first, sparsely furnished with a large chest to one side and a small desk to the other. The three intruders though, were focused entirely on the small figure nestled under the covers on the bed.
"Morgan, guard the door," the tallest commanded. One of the smaller figures nodded and stepped back, turning to face the dark hallway.
The tallest made his way silently to the bedside and gazed down on the sleeping child. His lips curved upwards, eyes still hidden in shadow. "At long last," he whispered, "I have found you."
Quickly, he slipped out the vial of milky potion and slipped a few drops between the lips of the sleeping boy. Then he straightened and gestured to the small figure waiting inside the doorway. "Urik."
The cloaked boy was at the tall figure's side in an instant, expectant and ready.
From within his cloak the tall figure drew another small vial of potion, this one perfectly clear. "I'll need you to hold him down," the tall man instructed. The hooded boy nodded and placed his hands onto the sleeping child's bare shoulders.
The tall man produced a glass bottle from within his cloak, this one also filled with potion. This time, the potion was red as blood.
"At last, it's almost mine," the tall man smiled. He slid the cork out of the small vial and raised it in a toast to the sleeping boy before him. Then he raised it to his lips and drank, until the last drop vanished down his throat. He shuddered as the liquid coursed through him, burning like liquid flame and filling him from crown to toe-tip. After a moment to adjust, he uncorked the bottle and leaned over the sleeping boy.
"Hold him down," he reminded. Beside him, Urik nodded and pressed down on the sleeping boy.
The tall man lifted the sleeping boy's head and pressed the bottle to his lips, waiting and watching to make sure he drank every drop. Then he reached into his cloak again and produced a black stone no bigger than a small egg with runes carved into its surface.
With a nod to Urik, he took one of the sleeping boy's hands in his own. Then, slowly, he lowered the carved stone onto the bare skin of the boy's chest, directly above his heart.
Immediately the boy began to stir uncomfortably, releasing a small moan. The moonlight seemed to dim as his face twisted in pain and he began to writhe in place, tossing his head from side to side. Only Urik's hands on his shoulders kept him from rolling over entirely. His spasms grew more violent by the second; back arcing, limbs thrashing, face contorted into an expression of agony, loud moans escaping his throat.
The tall man could feel the potion doing its work. It began as a tingle in his palm, the one holding the hand of the writhing boy. The tingles quickly spread up his arm, snapping like electricity in his veins. It crept into his chest, filling him with a rush that was both painful and exhilirating. He grinned excitedly. At last, the power would be his.
Then Urik let out a loud groan and his head bowed in pain. He began to quiver like a leaf in a storm, teeth gritted against the pain. Then he staggered forward, knees hitting the side of the bed. Below him, the child's spasms grew even more violent, limbs beating violently against the bedsheets, eyes rolling beneath half-closed lids. Outside, the wind began to blow.
Something was wrong. The tall man dropped the child's hand like a burning brand and snatched back the stone, pocketing it safely.
But it was too late. Urik let out a louder groan and fell forward, his body beginning to jerk uncontrollably, palms still pressed to the young boy's skin. The child began to moan louder, a continuous, undulating sound that rose like the gale howling through the trees outside.
The tall man began to panic, grabbing his young assistant's shoulders in an attempt to tug him away, to no avail. The hooded boy seemed to be connected to the boy on the bed by an unseen force. As much as the tall man tried to prise Urik's hands from the child's shoulders, he could do nothing.
Then Urik cried out, spine arcing as his face twisted in agony.
Morgan was in the room in a heartbeat, taking in the scene in an instant and rushing to Urik's side.
"Urik?!" Morgan seized the agonised boy's shoulders and shook him frantically. Urik did not respond in the slightest, his spasms only growing more violent. The child on the bed thrashed like a dying snake, moan rising in pitch and volume.
Morgan turned on the tall man. "You said he would be safe!"
The man's panicked eyes gleamed in the shadows of his hood as he scrambled to defend himself. "This wasn't supposed to happen! Everything was perfect. No-one could have predicted this!"
Morgan tugged at Urik's shoulders harder. "Urik, please! Urik!"
The tall man gripped his assistant's arm, straining to pull it away from the boy on the bed.
Outside, the gale ripped through the trees, bowing trunks and tearing apart limbs, swirling and gusting, howling like a savage beast.
Then the child arced his back, spine curving like a willow switch, torso leaving the bed entirely. His head snapped back sharply and his eyelids flew open as his face twisted into a soundless scream.
And his eyes. Oh gods, his eyes.
Outside, the roaring wind reached a crescendo.
Urik let out a bloodcurdling shriek and went still.
Morgan pulled on the prone boy's shoulders once more and at last he came away from the child on the bed, who was now beginning to thrash again.
The tall man glanced between the boy on the bed and Urik slumped unmoving in Morgan's arms, his voice laced with panic and fear. "We need to get out of here. Now!"
Morgan looked up, eyes wide with terror for the unconscious Urik. "Help me!"
The tall man grabbed Urik's legs and they fled into the night, leaving only their failure behind.
Around the cottage, the wind continued to howl.
Then, suddenly, it stopped and all was still again.
So that's the prologue. Our favourite Frozen characters should turn up next chapter.
Until the next chapter.
- The Writer Cookie
P.S : Reviews will be much appreciated :)