Chapter Seven

Revelation

"Where were you all day?" Randolph heard as he approached the palace's gates. On his left, Captain Peak was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Randolph sighed at this and stopped, rubbing at his head. After the second time he noticed Peak walking over and grabbing him by the shoulder. "I was worried about you, alright. Don't just go running off for most of a day."

"Right, right," Randolph said, nodding as he did so. "I take it that you know what happened earlier today?"

"Heard about it. Dead person, that's what we're talking about?" After Randolph nodded, he continued. "Yeah, I heard from their captain of the guard. I must say, their ineptitude has shocked me quite a bit."

"Ineptitude," Randolph asked as he began to walk back towards the palace. Peak turned with him, and Randolph noticed that the scowl was keeping on his face. Well, it seems like that part of him will never change.

"This murderer managed to kill a young soldier in the middle of their military base, without ever being found. And according to the guards, the body was relatively fresh, within the hour or so," Peak said. "I don't like it here."

"Neither do I," Randolph admitted. It was . . . discomforting to be in Arendelle, he had found. The tracking of magical energies he had done earlier had left him open to the changes in those energies, and they were always fluctuating, more than in any other place he had found. "The sooner I talk to the queen, the better."

"That's the good news," Peak said, and Randolph noticed the scowl was starting to disappear. "I managed to persuade her into seeing you when you arrived back."

"Thanks," Randolph said as he pulled the door to the palace open. He grunted slightly at the effort, but then Peak pushed at the door as well, and managed to get it to swing open with a small touch.

"Just make sure that you use your chance well," Peak replied. "I'm going to head back to Lord Clint."

"Are you sure you want to stay there?" Randolph asked, waiting by the edge of the interior. Peak stood still for a moment, then another, before shaking his head, and turning away. He's always still, even when he's moving, Randolph observed. Whether it's physical or mental, he won't move from what he thinks is the right thing to do. Randolph watched as Peak walked back into the night, red coat and brown hair disappearing into dark, and then he turned away, closing the door behind him.

The interior of the palace was softly lit by a number of lights on the sides of the walls. Randolph moved over to one to inspect it, and noticed that it was not in fact one of the modern electrics. I hadn't thought that they had the most modern of items, I guess that this just confirms it. Instead, the warmth of an actual flame was hidden by the glass, but Randolph could still feel it, and it made him smile. It was much warmer inside of the palace than outside, and he enjoyed that heat for a moment before setting off.

He stopped at his room, dropping his coat and boots there, and took a moment to inspect a map he had brought with him. A small bit of food had been left in his room, and after inspecting it for a moment he began to eat it. He ate quickly and with relish, then started moving.

The second observation Randolph noticed about the palace in general, was that it was a lonely place. There was no one around that Randolph could find, and the only sounds he heard were those from far away. The colors in the place, regardless of what color, were always hard and solid, and there was both too much and not enough light in the place for his liking. Nervously, he brushed his thumb against the rings along his right hand. Then he heard someone's voice come from down the hall.

"Are you insane," a masculine voice said softly, somewhere ahead of Randolph. "What the hell are you thinking meeting me here, of all places? You do understand that our enemies live here, don't you." At those words, Randolph drew back, into the corner, and brought his rings up.

"Chāyā," Randolph whispered, and as one of his rings began to warm itself, he crept along the hallway.

"You may not believe me when I say this," another male voice responded. "I know what I'm doing, the question is if you do." There was a slight pause. "Don't tell me that you're planning on leaving her trust?"

"That woman is insane," the other one said, and as he spoke, Randolph crept forward. He reached the corner, and peeked around it. Two figures, both presumably male, were standing in the darkness nearby. Both were tall, and lean, one wearing a uniform similar to the soldiers Randolph he had seen before, the other wearing an old grey cloak. "I still don't understand why you were chosen to defeat them the first time," the uniformed one said.

"And yet, compared to all the resources that you have, I came so much closer to winning. In any case, why should we bother arguing over such things? I only need to know if you're still going with the overall plan. Are you still with her?"

There was a pause between them, before the uniformed figure spoke again. "No. From what I understand, she still has more than enough territory. Arendelle; however, is mine."

"If you can still mine," the cloaked one said with his rich, warm voice. At that point, he turned away, and walked down the hall. The uniformed man watched as the other one left, and Randolph moved through the hallway, as close to them as he could. In the shadows, Randolph tried to move silently, ducking behind the uniformed figure, and moving after the cloaked figure.

What am I doing? Randolph wondered as he followed the cloaked figure. Even if I catch up with this person, then what will I be doing. Behind Randolph, he could hear the other man walking away. He breathed a sigh of relief and reached down to his ring, which was much warmer now than he had thought it should have been. "Chāyā," he whispered, and the shadows around him twisted and spread out; whereas before they had been concentrated around his figure, now they spread throughout the hall, returning to normal.

He turned the corner to see the cloaked figure moving away, and quickly pulled into a small alcove. There he sat and quickly began to trace along the floor, building a quick circle, before pulling his ring off and marking it with a dab of flesh from inside of his cheek. He intoned a word, calling upon the power of flesh, changed through the circle, and channeled into the ring, and slipping it on, felt two presences capable of using magic in the palace. One was in the direction of the uniformed man, the other was in the complete opposite direction, and contained several orders of magnitude more energy.

Randolph continued, unobserved, to study the two sources. Uniform and the Queen, those are the two. Her energy was more powerful, but wild, untamed. Even from far away, Randolph could feel it seeping out of her; there was so much energy it was actively pouring its way out of her, impossible to contain. The uniformed individual, on the other hand, was weak, weak enough that Randolph almost passed over it. However, the energy was carefully contained, pulled inwards and hidden deep inside of the flesh. This far from the figure, he doubted that he could understand more.

Shit, shit, shit, Randolph thought as he stood, shaking the circle away as best he could and retrieving his ring. Alright. Tell the Queen about this, but that's it. Don't get involved.

The knock on Elsa's door came later than she expected, perhaps halfway to ten. It had taken her a while to recover from her earlier outburst, but found that she did best by throwing herself back into her work, not giving her brain enough time to focus on what she had seen. As such, she had worked for what must have been six hours straight, and as she rose to get the door, she found her back aching far more than it should have. She sighed briefly, then put it past her and made her way to the door.

Elsa opened it to find the man from England on the other side. It was Lord Randolph, wasn't it?

"Your majesty," he said, bowing slightly as he did, before extending his hand. She took it, shook it, and then opened the door further to allow him in. He stepped hesitantly forward, stepped into the space, and then slowly walked fully in. She looked up and down him, trying to notice as many things about him as she could. His hands were clasped tightly behind his back; his eyes were slowly looking from place to place, never settling on anything for too long; his breath was uneven, but slow, and becoming more even. He seems to be nervous, but getting calmer. At least he's polite.

"So," she started. "You want to know what I can do with magic?"

"Yes, your majesty" he answered. "That is what I wanted to find out, but I was hoping to speak on another matter as well." He paused briefly, and she noticed that his hands were moving frantically behind his back. Definitely nervous. "I apologize if I speak out of turn, your majesty, I have been out of sorts since I saw that man's body."

"It is no issue," Elsa said, walking back to her desk as she did so. She gestured to one of the other chairs in the room, and Randolph began to pull it over as quietly as he could. "And don't bother with worrying about customs, so long as I don't have to keep up appearances, then I don't bother to. For now, you can call me Elsa. Oh, and could you get the door for me?"

"Of course," he answered, walking to the door and closing it. "I suppose, if you're willing to use your first name, then you may as well call me Randolph."

"Well, thank you." Ha, called it. "First, I suppose that you'll want to know about the freeze about a month back."

"Actually, no," Randolph said, causing Elsa to lean forward slightly. "I just want for you to know that you aren't alone."

There was a slight pause before Elsa broke it. "I'm aware of that. I spend a lot of time with other people. Or . . . you're talking about magic?"

Randolph smiled, his tanned skin, surprisingly dark for an Englishmen, splitting and revealing his teeth. "More or less. If I may," he said, raising his left hand as he did so. Unsure of what he meant, Elsa nodded slowly. With that, he flicked his fingers, and between the thumb and the middle finger, sparks burst about, and a flame rushed upward, extending two inches from his thumb, starting as a dark blue and transitioning to lighter and lighter colors, until it was entirely orange. "There are more people like you than you would probably think," he said. "And we'd like to talk with you."

Across the desk, a thousand thoughts went through Elsa at once. For a few seconds, she was too focused on them to notice anything else, but then she saw concern in Randolph's eyes, and looked down. A thin coating of ice was starting to cover over the desk. Elsa looked down at it, almost glaring at the substance, and it started to recede. After that, she opened her mouth once, closed it, and then repeated the action again before finally speaking. "Where the fucking hell have you people been this whole time?" Immediately after speaking she clasped her hand over her mouth, only pulling it away to say, "Sorry for my language."

Randolph waited until she was finished before starting to laugh slightly. "It's no problem, really. I know several women who curse far, far worse than you do. And as to where we've been, I'll be honest, we didn't know about you until you froze over the north sea. Which is surprising, because I think that any arcanist—our word for someone who can use magic—would figure out pretty quickly. You're practically glowing with energy."

"I am?" Elsa asked. "Well, um, thank you for the compliment. So you're an arcanist too, evidently."

Randolph nodded, and snapped his fingers again. With a slight spurt, the flame that had been dancing around his finger suddenly vanished. "I can control fire, a gift from my father's side of the family."

"And you're speaking for some collected body of arcanists?"

"Right again," Randolph answered. "It's called the Arcane Council, and it's based out of Hyderabad. I was sent to fill you in on a few things, and train you, since it's clear that you haven't had much experience with magical activities."

Elsa nodded slowly, mind racing with too many different thoughts to make sense of them all. "I . . ." I should have done better before. I can't trust him. I should never have used magic. I can't do this. I have to do this. The image of Ensign Kozel's body returned to her mind. "I'm ready to start."