A/N: Whoops. That was not meant to happen, me coming in late. But it has brought about something new that I am planning for Resurrection. Where most times I would delay an update to provide a big amount of chapters, I try a system where I update as much content as I can provide at the end of every month. With this, I sadly only have one chapter since the school year has slammed me with assignments in all directions. I am having fun developing characters and story arcs that I have been waiting for years to make. I don't exaggerate at all when I say that this is the story that I have been waiting to tell. As for how this story is told, that is something I am borrowing from Game of Thrones. Every chapter is told out of the perspective of a different character, and is told directly from their perspective. Asgeir is among one of these characters that will narrate chapters in his eyes, but you will also see chapters in the eyes of Troy, Zar, and several of the new characters I am introducing. All of which I hope will bring about an AC story unlike any other, with balanced and unique perspectives brought to the table.

I did hear recently that Once is ending for good this season. As someone that has quit for a long time, and has only seen clips in passing, this is a wise decision. Someone must have seen that shit just went sideways with the whole show and decided to pull the plug. I might consider watching the end of the whole show, even if it might be confusing for me. I'm just glad that someone is putting the show out of it's misery before it really goes off the deep end.

Hey! I managed to get Assassin's Creed Origins for Christmas, and I loved it! It doesn't hold the same sort of emotional gravity that I felt older entries in the series carried, but what I found was that the game basically made an Assassin's Creed game mixed with Skyrim. I'm glad that the devs took a year off and ended up making the best entry in the series since Black Flag. AC Origins for me gets a 9.5/10.

Begin Sequence 1: The Steel's Edge

Chapter 2: Terej I

February 1789

My time as a gardener was usually much more productive this time of year. But now, I didn't know what to do. Queen Elsa, recognizing my love for my work, had ways of keeping me busy during the winter time. Most nights, it was extracting seeds out of the clipping from the previous year, getting them ready for when spring came. I had a routine. A routine ultimately destroyed with this uprooting.

Everything had been taken away from me when Hans dismissed me. I had no living family, and all of my friends were either trapped within Arendelle's castle town, or most likely dead. All I had was my work, and he had to take that away from me, too.

People throughout the town looked on me with suspicion. Every day, I wheeled my barrow through the town, finding a new place to sit and go through my cuttings. I wanted spring to come sooner than ever; all the snow made me think of that poor girl and her sister.

The Southerner snake… she had done nothing to him before all of this. Before her true nature as the Ice Queen was unveiled, he had arrived in our kingdom with the very plan to murder her and take the throne. And now they both were indeed dead, and his spoiled ass polishing the throne.

This evening was a cold one, indeed. I only hated the cold because it gave me little to do. All this time, all this effort that I put into my work, and all I could do was sit and wait for the frost to melt. The cuttings I had harvested the seeds was running low. Soon enough, all I would be able to do would be to put the seeds away, and wait for spring.

With the amount of cuttings I had left running out, I found myself spending more and more time in the Twelve Spades. It was the only place that I felt the occupation hadn't completely ruined. But some nights I felt just as much unease as I did on the streets. I always felt like someone was watching me, so I assumed that whoever those eyes belonged to, they worked for Hans.

That night, I came in with more dread than ever before. Truthfully, my unease only grew every night, making every day worse than the last. I wanted to just let everything slide, but I couldn't. I had to stand by and let everything happen, knowing full well I could never take on an empire myself.

Filip spotted me from the bar, and poured out my usual pint as I took my seat, right at the corner of the table.

"Things going alright there, Terej?" He asked, laying a cloth down, and wiping up a stain on the grained wood. It looked to have been recently polished.

"Oh, just dandy." I replied. "Yeah… just a blast."

Filip understood, and said no more as he went about the rest of his duties.

An older man came up to the bar, holding out his drinking horn.

"Another, Flilip." He said.

"Aye. I gotcha, Kevan." He said, taking it. "How's business been for you guys?"

The older man shook his head. "Much to be desired, my friend. Much to be desired."

He went back to his table, leaving me to keep drinking alone.

The door creaked loudly open, letting in several snowflakes from the outside, and three unwelcome guards.

I turned, glaring over at them, but they didn't seem to notice me. Yet, they were familiar. They were some of the guards that I had seen executing that handful of Sprinters against the wall, last week. One of them wore the coat with gold trimmings that labelled him a captain of the guards. He was the one who had threatened me.

Filip rolled his eyes but maintained his business posture. "Welcome, gentlemen." He said. "Can I get you anything?"

"Three pints around." The captain said. "And information about your guests."

Filip put the mugs he had grabbed for them down. He didn't fill them. "What about them?"

"We heard reports you have a colored individual staying here." He said. "Likely from Agrabah or Corona decent."

Filip scowled. "No shit?" He said. "What sort of colored person?"

"Brown."

I damn near vomited in my mouth the way how the guard spoke about his race. Like it was some sort of curse word. It made no fucking difference, but these shitheads were cutting through people's time of leisure to interrogate us.

"Well, hypothetically, if such a man was staying here, he's not hurting anyone. I see no reason I should tell you about any hypothetical brown man living here."

"Oh, you're one of those individuals." The captain said. "Sympathizers. Lemme make this perfectly clear. We're here to protect you from them. Their presence interferes with King Hans' Vision. All they do is bring drugs and criminal scum into this kingdom."

Filip threw his hands up. "Have a look around. I'll even give you the tour."

"That won't be necessary." He shot back. "Only a look around down here."

I turned in my seat as I watched them strut throughout the floor, weaving in and out of the tables. Everything inside this place was fine until they barged in. Now everyone timidly eyed them like sheep, not a peep to be heard from every corner. I felt my knuckles crack with the fist I began to clench against my pint. I felt the mug begin to buckle in my hand.

The captain kept stomping out about the pub. His boots loudly clunked against the wooded floor, daring anyone to make a move against him. All he wanted was information on the "colored individual".

Then he stopped at one table in the corner opposite the door. The older man who last got a drink from Filip sat there, along with a younger woman with blonde hair and hazel eyes.

"What about you two?" He growled. "Know anything about a brown boy in here?"

The older man shivered a little, but glared up at him in anger. "No." He shakily replied. "Nothing this old man can tell you."

"Really. No sightings of any colored shitstains?" He snarled, grabbing him by the collar.

"That's enough."

The captain spun around, and every eye in the room turned. Right towards me.

"Excuse me?"

I sat up straighter. "I only mean, they don't fit the profile of who you're looking for. What makes you think they know where he is?"

The guard scoffed. "I will make that decision for myself, fucker. Back off."

He looked back down at the older man, still with his collar in his hand. "Now, tell me where the wetback is."

The older man scowled. "I fought alongside boys that were twice the men you Southerners are, ages ago. And you harass me, an old man, and call yourself soldiers. Nothing but the scum of the Southern Isles."

The guard tightened his grip on the man's collar. "We are Arendelle's finest!" He snarled. "And we will not leave until we have the shitstain that you lot are hiding!"

"There is no one here." I yelled across the table.

The guard whistled, having his two flunkies advance towards me, but not draw their weapons.

"I know you heard me." I snapped. I almost regretted what I said the second that it came out of my mouth. But there was no taking it back, now. "There's no one here for 'Arendelle's Finest' to throw in your cells, and parade around the streets. As though we need reminders from you that people who don't have asses as white as fresh lilies are demons from the seven hells. We all know it's a load of horse shit."

The captain let go of the older man, and started towards me. "You look familiar."

"Yeah." I replied. "You dragged three Sprinters up to the wall and shot them last week. I watched it all happen."

He grinned. "Aye. That's right. And I told you to move along before you got hurt. I give you the same warning for the last time."

I chuckled, looking down at my pint, chugging it back. Wiping my mouth with my sleeve, I kept walking up to him.

"You know why people are called Sprinters? It takes so long for people of certain groups to get nicknames, but it's taken four months of this bullshit occupation to give them the name."

"Aye. We gave those cowards the names. Because it happens so often. And because it makes sense."

"Aye. It happens so often, one might think that they don't like it here. It happens so often, one might think they hate it here." I snapped. "I hear most of them know fully well they might not make it across to Corona, but they'll run anyways. Because they hate it here so much, they'd rather risk dying than stay here another second."

"They just can't get over Elsa's tragic death." He sneered. "They can't see all the good King Hans has done for them."

"What good?" I asked. "Tell me right here what 'Saint Muttonchops' has done for the greater good for this kingdom."

"I will tell you, once you come with us." The captain snapped. "You shut your mouth, and we throw you into the hole, instead. No one needs to hear your filth."

I tossed the mug down, cracking it and spilling what little ale was left onto the bottom of his trousers. Tiny bubbles and foam caked around the soles of his muddy boots. "Fuck the King."

Instantly, the other two guards lunged for me. Jumping backwards, I swung my arm wide, clocking the smaller one right in the ear. He yelped out in pain, clutching his ear as I knew it was ringing.

The other guard successfully jumped for me, and began to squeeze down on my throat as he wrapped both his hands around my neck. I could feel the blood building in my head as I struggled to gasp for air. Like a can with too much water, fit to burst. I kept on struggling, but then realized that he was trying to stop me from going one way. So I went the other, my weight throwing him off balance, before I managed to pin him to the ground, and hammer my fist down into his jaw, his bones breaking like twigs.

The other guard was just getting over his ear ringing, when he looked down, and saw the shattered jaw of his partner. The captain, meanwhile, let go of the older man, and began to stalk towards me as the patrons began screaming running out of the bar in fright.

"You have committed crimes against Arendelle and her-"

"Oh, shut up!" I snarled, grabbing a bottle I saw on the bar table, grabbing the guard I had hit in the ear, threating to break the rum over the scoundrel's head.

The captain was about to draw his sword, when he suddenly gasped, and coughed up a wad of blood that sprayed across the pub, and into my face. I saw his entire body convulse, and then he fell to the ground. A rope was sticking out the back of his neck, where I saw the other end of it was held by the older man.

"And stay down!" He snapped, yanking out the rope. With precision of the most agile man, a knife that was tied to the rope suddenly leapt from the back of the guard's throat, where the older man swung the rope around his arm, rapidly coiling it around his wrist.

"Assa-" The younger guard was about to say, when I broke the bottle over his head. Sweet, spicy rum sprayed all over the both of us as glass shattered, and I raised my fists above his head.

"Wait!" The older man cried. "Does he serve with blind faith?"

I looked up at him. "What?"

"Does he serve Hans willingly? Would he die for his cause?"

"Blow off, choffer." The guard below me spat out a few broken teeth, and blood to go with it. "Your people are below us. I do what I'm meant for, ensuring you all stay in line!"

Even at my mercy, and still this scum would speak such ungodly words about us? I understood now that the old man would have asked if I would spare him, had he said he served only because he had no choice. But clearly, he did.

I cracked my neck. "And now you'll be below us, rotting in the ground."

Filip looked down at the guard's body, his head smashed to a pulp, almost completely absent from his body. My anger built up over the last few months had finally come to a head, and I felt some infernal fury reach the surface, killing three guards in a manner of minutes.

"Gods be good, Terej. You have quite the temper." He said as two of the other barkeeps grabbed the bodies. All the other patrons were gone from the bar.

"It's what those bastards get for treading in waters they weren't welcome." I replied, looking over to the two patrons. "Are you both alright?"

The older man stood up. "I thank you deeply, kind sir." He replied. "I was afraid for a moment, there."

I was confused. "What would you have been afraid for? You killed the captain unlike any other soul I have seen before with that… thing."

The older man kept silent, while I turned to Filip.

"They're gonna see us hang for this." I said. "Once they find the bodies, or someone squeals."

"No, they won't." Filip replied. "I've got my ways on hiding them. And no one who witnessed this will sell out another of Molrum."

"Can you be sure of that?" I said, turning and looking down at the other two bodies.

"Sure, as I need to be, Terej. Now, then."

I heard a click, and spun around. Filip was holding a pistol to my face.

"Filip!"

The woman the older man was with stood up. He eyes were hazel, very much in the shade of chocolates. "What do you do for a living, Mister Terej?" She asked.

I glanced at her. "Nothing, ma'am." I replied. "Nothing since Hans' occupation began."

"And what did you do before all of this?"

Something about her mannerism made me stand up straight. She had a commanding posture about her. Even the older man seemed to act the same about her presence.

"I was the royal gardener." I replied, almost beginning to relax. Talking about my work almost always made me smile. "Made displays in the gardens of Arendelle's castle that had lords and ladies from all over the realm come to admire. I took a lot of pride in it!"

She narrowed her eyes at me. "I've seen these displays for myself, years before. You're telling me one man did all of that? A man?"

I nodded, still feeling the presence of Filip's pistol aimed right into my eye. In the corner of the pub, over by the stairs, I could see several pairs of feet coming down.

"I may be a man, but I appreciate the delicacy of nature! There should be no sex or identity that appreciates flowers more than another. What does it matter, anyway?" I explained. "And all the same, I was dismissed by King Hans because I previously served Queen Elsa!"

She cocked her head. "King Hans? You call him King?" Her voice became very forceful, and very intimidating.

"He is no King to me! I misspoke." I said, quickly. "I want that little sideburned shitstain to rot in seven hells for what he did to this great land!"

"I'm sure you did misspoke." She replied. "But then, I must ask you something. And you must answer as honest as you possibly can." She gestured to Filip. "He'll know if you lie. And he doesn't even need a second to deliver a shot through your skull."

"Answer what?"

"If you had the chance, would you fight for Queen Elsa?"

I stared hard at her. It was no question to me.

"Yes. They are dead, but their souls live on through their people. If there were others that would take me, I would fight to take Hans' royal ass off the throne of Arendelle."

The woman looked over to the older man, then to Filip, and finally, to the stairs. Then she raised her hand.

Filip lowered his pistol, and slipped it into his pocket. "I'm sorry about that, Terej."

"What?"

"You two." He said, ignoring me. "Bar all the doors and lock all the windows."

The barkeeps did as they were told as the older man and the woman headed for the stairs. Two new people stood at the foot of them.

It was then that I noticed one of them had to have been the man that the guards were looking for. He had darker skin, and long dark hair tied up in a small bun behind his head. He beckoned us upstairs while the taller one eyed me.

He looked eerily familiar. His face had several scars in various directions from cheek, to eye, and from eyebrow to lip. His hair had been shaved close to his head, only leaving a hint of black hair grown out. A similar black stubble covered his cheeks.

"This way, Terej." Filip instructed, pushing me to the stairs.

I only looked around with concern as everyone within the pub led me up the stairs. I kept looking at the blonde, and the tall, shave-headed fellow. But I said nothing until Filip took us up to a big room at the top of the inn.

Inside the room, a single window showed to the outside. We were right under the roof of the building. A large candle burned in each corner, and one of the walls was taken up entirely of portraits. Portraits of…

"The Southern Isle princes." I realized.

"Quiet." Filip whispered as everyone filed in.

A large table was in the center of the room. Various items littered it's top, but I could make out the maps of Arendelle, Corona, and the Southern Isles. In the center of the room, close by to the map table, a post stood where various knives stuck out by their handles. What was this place?

I was about to get my answers.

"Joan!" The woman called down the hall. "Come on."

A girl with black hair tied in a ponytail ducked into the room, whereas the blonde locked the door behind them.

"What the fuck is this?" I asked, losing patience.

"A second chance, Terej." The shave-headed man said. "We've been watching you since we returned."

"Watching me?" I said, shocked. "I've felt eyes on me for so long. Eyes belonging to Hans!"

"Hans believed you were a threat only as long as you stayed within Arendelle's castle town." He said. "No longer, with so many leagues separating the two of you."

"And why have you been watching me?" I asked.

"You're the strongest man I've ever known, Terej." The woman said, Joan taking a seat next to her.

I stood up in fear. "I don't understand this shit. I've never met any of you people before! You've been watching me, you've been testing me. You ask me questions about two dead girls."

"Are they truly dead?"

I glimpsed to the tall man. "They are. If they weren't this kingdom would have known by now."

"Look again." He pointed to the women.

I did. And then, something familiar about Joan seemed to surface. Her hair was a lot darker than before, but I did see something about her.

"P-P-Princess Anna? Seven hells!"

She grinned, standing up. It looked as though her hair had been dyed, which was a wise move for them. "Good to see you again, Terej."

The blonde then reached under the collar of her dress, and pulled off a necklace. Her hair lightened to an almost-white blonde, and her eyes turned icy blue. Her very appearance before me changed into someone else I recognized.

"My Queen!" I suddenly dropped to my knees. I at least remembered courtesies to those who earned it. They were alive! My queen and princess were alive!

"I'm not your lawful queen anymore, Terej. But that'll do." She gestured for me to stand.

"We met a long time ago, Terej." The tall man said, rubbing his hand through his short hair. "But I don't blame you for not recognizing me."

It dawned on me. "Connor! The Royal Spymaster!"

He shrugged. "Well, that- Okay, we will need to-" He kept stopping himself.

I looked around. The two barkeeps even came inside, so I could imagine that whatever was going on, they were in on it.

"Hans told Arendelle he killed you. After you killed the girls." I looked around. "What really happened? He's lied to the whole kingdom if you're still alive while he sits on the throne."

"We'll need to catch him up on everything, I suppose." Connor said. He appeared to be thinking deeply. He looked over at the two bartenders walking into the room. "Rory, Keif, you with us?"

"Aye. Let's get started."

"Where would we even start?" Elsa asked.

"The beginning." I said. "Start from the beginning, if it's a lot to explain."

Connor sat down at the head of the table, as every other soul in the room took seats around the makeshift war table.

"Did you know King Agdar and Queen Gerda well, Terej?" Connor asked.

"No, sir." I replied. "I started working for them the year before their shipwreck. Didn't know much."

"So, you weren't aware of their firstborn?"

I was confused. I thought Elsa was the firstborn of the royal family.

"Their first child was stillborn." He explained. "A boy, born in the midst of the coldest winter in a lifetime. They had no heirs until three years later, when Queen Elsa was born."

"So, there was a boy that never made it out of Queen Gerda's womb. What does that have to do with anything?" I mildly remembered hearing something about this in passing when I was a lad. I was

"The child lived." Connor replied. "But he was not the son of the King. He was the son of the legendary White Reaper of Arendelle. So, the King brought the child out to the woods, and left him in the snow and ice to die."

"A bastard?" I realized. "A bastard son?"

"What do you know of bastards? Literal ones." Connor asked.

"Those born to nobles are branded." I said, remembering what little he had been taught in history class as a child. "A diagonal slash across the back of the hand."

With that, Connor pulled the glove off of his hand. I only just noticed it, woolen, and without fingers.

I felt my heart stop as I realized what the slash on his own hand meant. All this time, and it turned out that he had joined Elsa's council, an outsider from thin air, only because he wanted to be closer to his family.

"My name is Asgeir Daniel Cormac, Terej. And this is only the beginning."

It was a lot for me to take in. Indeed, Asgeir appeared to be a part of these "Assassins" that Hans spoke of. But there was plenty that Lord Muttonchops had left out. Then there was this talk about how they has spent the better part of thirty years, during the length of the Deep Freeze, in a "Land Without Magic".

"Hans and his family are members of the Templar Order." He explained. "They've sought absolute control over all of humanity, and they're really close to it, now. With Arendelle in their pocket, and all the armies under their control, they'll have this half of the world by the next Winter Solstice."

I turned to look over at the wall of portraits. It seemed that they had been doing their research, at least.

"So, this is a rebel movement." I said.

"It's what we would call ourselves." Elsa admitted. "We would declare war on Hans, and he's King of Arendelle, now."

"And why has it taken so long for a movement to be started yet?"

"We're only under a dozen strong, and have more guns than men to shoot them." Asgeir said. "And…"

He grimaced as he folded his hands together.

"Three days. After Hans threw Anna and Kristoff into the trunk overboard, they crossed oceans of time and space to come to another realm. A Land Without Magic." He picked up one of the pawns on the table. "Elsa and I were already there. Us and the Assassins. We came back after Anna and Kristoff spent close to three days in that world. We thought that three days had passed here. We were wrong. Through some warp in the fabric of reality that we passed through when we came back, three months had passed, not days. It took us a while for us to notice what had happened, but by the time we did, we were trapped here in Molrum. The blockade had already been tight around the town and its waters before, but it has increased in it's strength in the last month. Zar here can't go outside because of his skin color. Anna had to dye her hair black, I had to cut my hair short, and Elsa uses a charm that we found to keep herself hidden."

"Then what would be the point to it all?" I asked. "If Hans has already one, then what would a dozen of us be able to reach by standing against an entire empire?"

Asgeir grinned. "You don't know the Assassins, Terej. So much bigger machines have been toppled by the hands of a single mortal soul. We all swore oaths on this table when we gathered here under this roof for the first time. All of us will destroy Hans and the Templars to retake the Arendelle throne, or we will die trying."

Anna shivered. "Hopefully not dying in the process?"

"Aye, Anna. Hopefully not." Asgeir said. He pointed to the post with daggers sticking out of us. "A long time ago, one Assassin brought a tradition of his people to our order: when his people went to war, a hatchet would be buried in a post. Each one of us Assassins did the same as we declared our allegiance to Elsa, and the Arendelle Loyalists."

I looked over at the table. Indeed, I could see close to about the same amount of daggers in the post as there were people in the room. Close to it, but not including me.

Asgeir drew out another dagger, and handed it to me. "We here dedicate our lives to protecting the freedom of humanity. Now I offer the choice to you."

I was a man grown. Far past my youth. I'd be reaching forty before long. Hell, this Asgeir was only a kid from what I saw. Not that much older than Elsa or Anna. Yet, he had a vision. He had a path he could offer me. And with no other future in sight for me, I would gladly accept. Yet, I held the dagger, and did not move as I looked down at it, and then to the post. If I stabbed it into the wood, it would be the ninth one. I didn't know if I could make the decision.

Asgeir nodded. "Aye. You need some time to think?"

"Indeed." I replied.

"Then, keep the dagger, at least. Make the choice when you're ready."

I pocketed the dagger, then looked up at the grim bastard.

"Where do we start?" I asked.

"Even we are not sure of that." Elsa said, as a woman in a red hood came into the room. She and I locked eyes for a moment, but I understood after the moment was over that she was part of this operation.

"The resources, finances, and hands that the Templars have is impressive." Asgeir said. "But unlike so many other Assassins in our position before, Ezio Auditore, Altair, and even the Frye Twins, we know all our targets, what they do, and what they hold up in this machine of theirs. We have the map to the 'X'. It's getting there that will be the kicker."

He pointed to the wall and walked me through each of the Princes. I only knew about five of them to start, but the gaps were filled instantly. Two of the portraits had bright red paint crossing out their faces.

"Klaus, crown Prince to the throne of the Southern Isles." He pointed. "With King Elias on his deathbed, his coronation will no doubt come by the end of this year.

"Admiral Prince Viktor, second in line, and high commander of the Southern Isles' Navy. General Prince Nikolaus, commander and tactician of the ground troops. Prince Fredbjorn, who our sources say has handled finances for the royal family for the last five years. He has a way with numbers."

Asgeir lingered his pointing finger to the portrait of a large bald man, with a thick goatee. There almost seemed to be a sense of… regret? Regret on his face.

"Prince Frans, Captain of the Gemini. He's also in charge of the naval blockades around every Arendelle settlement on the coast. Prince Alex, sixth in line, and heading weapons development for the troops. With this new occupation that they've put on the kingdom, Hans has been pushing this brother for as many new weapons as they can manage. I reckon there's a massive amount of blueprints for war machines he's assembled.

"High Overseer Ivan, leader of the Abbey. We've heard his Vice Overseer Prince William is dead already. Which means they're on high alert and cracking down on devotion to their faith. Prince Grant, the doctor. He works hard as a healer in the Isles." He paused, giving a similar sort of face to Frans. "He works hard, but he'll have to die, just like the rest of them." He said, backing up and sitting on top of the table.

A mustached man near Asgeir continued. "Prince Lars, ninth in line, and heading research with Alex. They both are helping the Southern Isles develop weapons that'll ensure Arendelle's oppression for a thousand more years. Prince Robert, the Judge and lawmaker of the Isles. And…"

"The man himself." I finished, looking up at the painting. Whoever did these portraits perfectly captured the smug grin of King Hans. Everything that he was, everything that he had claimed to be, it was all a lie.

Anna scowled up at his portrait, too. "I thought we were done with fighting. And then he came back."

"It's the life we lead, Anna." Elsa said. "There will always be enemies ready to strike against us. We may never find rest."

Asgeir glimpsed at his half-sisters, and then to the mustached man.

"So, what are we to do?" I asked.

He turned to me. "We start small. We start quiet. Hans doesn't know that we're alive, and preparing to strike against him. An opportunity will come, but we will have to wait for it, and then strike at a moment's notice."

I looked up at the portraits. "Nothing? We do nothing?"

"No, we wait." He explained. "Shooting without a plan, or a clear sight will only end bad for us."

"Then, what am I doing here?"

Elsa came over to me. She no longer wore the light blue gown that she had adopted as her style. Forced to blend into society, she and her sister now wore rough spun peasant's clothes.

"You're here to help us, Terej." She said. "Our kingdom will prosper for another millennia, or reach a state of despair and suffering for eternity. This fate will be decided in the war to come. And I believe there are those of talent, of knowledge, and of strength who will have a part to play in it."

I glanced about the room. These were all outcasts, runaways, and cutthroats. All with a purpose driven not by gold, by glory, but by…

"You said you fought for freedom." I said. "Then why are you fighting this king to sit this queen on the throne?"

Asgeir shook his head. "Hans is a tyrant. Hans is a scoundrel. Hans wants to craft his individual vision of what he thinks the world should be like. But the world exists so that everyone can make their own choices. And there is only one queen who can rule Arendelle, yet ensure freedom for her people." He pointed at Elsa. "In either case, Hans forgets one rule on how this world works, as have the citizens of Arendelle: Citizens shouldn't serve or fear their monarchs. It should be the reverse."

The mustached man cleared his throat. "This isn't entirely about sitting Elsa on the throne. It's about saving the people of Arendelle, first and foremost."

"And you need me for this." I said, trying not to laugh at the absurdity. "Me, the gardener of the Arendelle Palace?"

Asgeir sighed. "Yeah. We suffered extreme losses a month ago in the other world. We need to rebuild. Now, I tell you, Terej. We have been watching you and observing for the last month, after finding Arendelle in ruins and time passed much quicker than we would have wanted. We need your help. Desperately."

"Quick frankly, it's amazing that so much time passed through this warp." The mustached man said. "If it had been only three days, we would have had things back to the way they were like that." He snapped his fingers.

I looked down at the map. "You'll give me time to think on this, Your Majesty?"

"As much time as you need." Elsa replied. "And I can reassure you that if you turn the offer down, no harm will come to you. We don't kill bystanders to make a point."

I nodded. "Indeed, that is reassuring." I said. "Thank you."

Nothing else I could really say, or do. So I turned, and headed for the door, seeing myself out.

Someone else was in the hallway, leaning against the wall.

"So they finally went about recruiting you." He said.

He was tall and very well built. Not nearly as tall as me, but I instantly recognized him.

"Reindeer Boy." I chuckled. "Was wondering where you ended up, too."

Kristoff shook his head. "Not Reindeer Boy at the moment." He said. "We got no idea where Sven is, along with two of our Assassins or Olaf. That's part of a long list of stuff we have to take care of."

"Shit… Sorry to hear that. What are you doing out there instead of in the war room with the rest of them?"

Kristoff sighed. "Something General Nelsen said last time I was at a meeting with Elsa. Said I had no place in meetings of that importance as I was only the Ice Master and Deliverer."

"Funny." I murmured. "That was the whole reason I didn't think I should have been part of this fight. I was only the gardener, after all. I would have considered myself lucky if they remembered my name, but the fact that they are turning to me in the darkest hour says something. We're both only servants of those two girls, but they're counting on us all the same."

Kristoff shrugged. "I guess. It's their brother that keeps me out of these meetings."

"He doesn't trust you?" I said, confused.

"No, I don't trust him. He's a killer. The whole lot of them are. He pushed his way in here, and he said a lot about how their Aunt Ingrid wasn't to be trusted. Is he all that different?"

I glimpsed back at the door. I wasn't a killer. But would I still be able to join this cause for my Queen?

"Fair enough." I replied, heading for the stairs.

I pulled my head up from the pull of gravity, looking down at the footlocker at my bed. Back in my home, after all of this. It was well past midnight, but I knew I was not sleeping anytime soon. I would probably not sleep for a week, knowing what I did. Hope had been lost for me for all of this time, as it had been for the people of Arendelle. But our Queen was alive. And she, with these Assassins, were preparing to strike back.

I was still very worried about what would happen concerning those dead guards. Someone in that pub would squeal. I just knew that they would, somehow, someday. And then I'd truly be fucked when someone would put a name to my face.

I realized just how futile and desperate things were turning for me in the process of the last hours. The last short, but very eventful, hours. Getting up from my bed, I walked around to the foot and threw open the lid to my footlocker.

I was not going to leave behind everything that rightfully belonged to me. I was certain that after several months of his regime, Hans had never noticed that I had taken a whole shed's worth of garden tools with me to Molrum. If he had, he would have sent guards down to kill me. But Agdar had told me when I started working for him all those years ago that the tools that were in that shed rightfully belonged to me, as part of my work for him and his wife. A shovel, trowels, cultivators.

Many of the other tools were bladed, including a billhook saw, and a machete. But I never took them out in the last few months; tools like those, with blades as large and as sharp as those, had been classified as illegal weapons by Hans' new laws placed on us.

I could sit by. Keep my head down, and in the process, keep it on my shoulders for a few more years while the Assassins had their war with Hans and his demons. But for a few more years of what?

More of what I had been given for the last few months. More of the same. Nothing worth fighting for, or in my case, not fighting for. I could not be sure that what I wanted to do would be the right call. To me, this fight against Hans would be personal, after he had taken what I loved from me, purely out of some paranoia induced frenzy. But now I had a chance to fight for my Queen, someone I truly believed in.

I could still remember that day as clear as any other recent memory. The day of her coronation, where I was given a whole team of gardeners to lead in the displays. I had only seen her in passing on occasion, so it was a big day for me, as well as the whole kingdom. Things could change after that day.

But my hard work was all for nothing when the snows came. I wasn't in the ballroom at the time when she lost control, but I was out in the courtyards. I was showing the guests some of my better displays, talking them through my process and how I saw my vision through. Then I heard screams come from down in the main courtyard, and then the fountains began to freeze. Then the fjord did the same. And lastly, the sky became thick with stormclouds, and snow began to fall.

Did Hans even remember that we met once? While I was trying to cover up the gardens from the snow, he did all he could to try to stop me. He told me the flowers would grow back, but there was more need for staff hands to help give out blankets and soup.

As I ran my fingers down the blade of my machete, I understood now what he was thinking at the time. He saw my work as worthless and needed me to help advance his agenda with the poor. Pathetic.

The intense anger for the Southerner shit returned to me. But something felt different among all of this. That boy, Asgeir. He claimed he had faced off with Hans. He claimed he gave the prick that scar. He had more reason to hate Hans from what little of the stories he had told me of the Assassins. But he wasn't fighting for revenge against him. He was fighting because the people of Arendelle were doomed without Elsa, and they needed her more than ever.

I closed the lid to the trunk. Remembering Asgeir's instructions, I took the blade of my machete, and quickly carved a poor imitation of the symbol that he had showed me. It almost looked like a child's first attempt to write the letter "A". But it would have to suffice. I couldn't carry the rest of these tools out in the open myself.

Looking about my room, I sheathed the two blades, then strapped them onto my back. Then I grabbed my coat, slipping it on. I could at least carry these under the coat, the guards none the wiser.

The snow was beginning to come down hard as I opened my front door from the bottom of the stairs, and headed out into the streets. From across the street, I saw a group of guards trudging through… heading in my direction.

"This is a messenger's job." One of them grumbled.

"Enough, George." The captain of them said. "Lord Harding needs a whole group of us to receive such a message. You've seen how…" He noticed me, then lowered his voice as they kept walking. But I could still hear what they were saying. "How difficult he's been for us."

I turned around, taking my keys out. They needed to think that I wasn't eavesdropping. I didn't know exactly what I needed to do, but I figured that there needed to be some action.

One of the guards then turned to a lamp post, and hung a notice up to it as the rest of his gang kept walking. As soon as they were gone, I took note of which way they were heading. Indeed, the way they were taking suggested they were headed up to Lord Henry Harding's manor. One of Elsa's close supporters during her reign, but the Assassins must have had their reasons for not contacting him if he didn't know she was alive.

The notice gave some more context as to why they were going there.

"IMPORTANT NOTICE TO ALL CITIZENS OF MOLRUM: Mandatory Crown Taxes must be turned in to Lord Harding for collection by Monday, February 23rd. Long Live the King."

Lord Henry was a vocal opponent of taxing his citizens dry. But if this notice was going up with such a short time for people to pay their loving King, then it meant it wasn't his idea.

Hans would be sending one of his own to Molrum. Someone he would trust to ensure that the gold be turned to him, and in full.

I tore down the notice, and turned, walking back to the inn. We had work to do.