Author's Note: Arrrgghhh, there's so many things I want to share with you guys about what I have in store coming up. But alas, this chapter needed to be written to prepare for the upcoming chapter.

If you thought any of the events in the previous chapters were weird, just get a load of what's to come. Hopefully I won't disappoint.

Found and Lost

Hans opened his eyes, a struggle since it felt like they were fastened together with iron threads. His body felt sore all over, and there was a sensation of rocks in his throat. He looked around himself, recognizing the beveled molding that trimmed the edges of the ceiling, the paintings that hung on the walls, the bed board at his feet.

Was he dead? Because the thought the next time he would ever have a chance at being in his room again in the Southern Isles would be as a corpse to be buried.

"Hi, Hans," a masculine voice said beside him, accompanied with fingers carding through his hair along his scalp. The foreign touch caused Hans to snap his attention to the voice, regretting the movement a bit at the sudden wave of nausea that flooded around his stomach, neck, and head.

Hans calmed a bit when he realized it was Holger, his second-eldest brother.

"Easy there, brother," the doctor prince said, dabbing a damp, ice-cold washcloth on his head, cheeks, and neck. "You're running a fever, and the medicine I gave you for the poison is going to make you feel even worse for a while."

Hans ran his tongue over his dry, cracked lips before trying to speak. "W-what happened?"

"You were poisoned back in Weselton. King Pieter and Queen Elsa deemed it best to bring you to the Southern Isles since they believed I was the one most-equipped to help you."

"Where are they?"

"Our elder brother is holding a meeting with his council and the rest of our brothers regarding his return to the kingdom. Queen Elsa is outside waiting for you to wake up."

At hearing how close the queen was, Hans' eyes widened further and lit up.

"Would you like to see her?" Holger asked. Hans nodded slowly.

The door to the room clicked open and shut. A wooden stool scraped along the floor. Cold hands cupped his face and turned it to gaze upon wide, worried blue eyes. Elsa's eyes flickered across his face as if she was looking for something. Whether she found it or not, or even if she was looking, he wasn't sure. But whatever her conclusions were, it brought tears to her eyes.

He brought up a hand, ready to wipe the droplets from her face, to comfort her. But upon seeing his uncovered hand, he remembered the curse. He withdrew his reach.

Wordlessly, Queen Elsa wrapped her arms around his neck. He felt her tears brush against the side of his cheek.

He hated this. He hated not being able to comfort her or to even join in whatever sorrow she was feeling. He hated leaving unfinished business in Weselton. He hated willfully giving in to violence so easily. He hated knowing that he failed all those innocent people in the estate with all the mistakes and stumbling blocks he faced along the way. He hated the land. He hated the pixies. He hated…

He hated himself most of all.

Elsa deserved better than what he could ever offer her, and yet she chose him over her own happiness. She shouldn't even consider shedding a single tear for his own sake.

"Queen Elsa, I suggest you try not to jostle him too much," Prince Holger said from the other side of the room. "His condition has greatly improved, but the medicine I gave him can cause Hans to go green in the gills at any moment's notice."

With reluctance, Elsa released Hans from her arms. She turned to the elder prince and asked, "You said he was running a fever. Why is his body so cold?"

"That's a conundrum that I haven't been able to figure out," Holger responded. "I don't often see bodies this cold unless they're ready to be buried or having frostbitten limbs surgically removed. But whatever is causing this, I believe it's kept the poison from spreading to the rest of his body. There was evidence of an injection into his heart, a rather forceful one with a bit of bruising around the site, so I deduce that's where the poisoning took place. But while the antidote appears to be working, there's… another observation that eludes all my studies in medicine."

Holger approached the bed and placed a hand on Hans' chest. He gestured for Elsa to do the same, the queen obliging him.

Elsa's eyes opened wide in shock as she withdrew her hand to cover her gaping mouth.

"I think this is the main culprit as to why he hasn't died to the poison," Holger continued.

"What? What is it?" Hans asked.

"You don't have a heartbeat, brother."

He didn't have a…

"I… don't?" How was that possible? Elsa couldn't possibly been the one to cause it. He didn't notice any change after his heart being frozen except for constantly being cold and the lack of emotion. After all, something major like that wouldn't have escaped his notice for that long.

It had to be Turpentine's work. Maybe that's why he was starting to see this dragon-land apparition? Because he was…

"Am I dead?" Hans asked out loud.

"No, it just means that I have to redefine your definition of 'being alive.' Fortunately, your head doesn't appear to have been affected, though the white locks of hair are a bit worrying. Hence the fever."

A sullen look overcame Holger's face.

"There's something else, isn't it?" Hans said.

His brother turned his attention to the floor, picking on the seams at the cuff of his shirt. "Niels went on and on about the Order of the Lynx, how you made it look like you wanted to kill him, but ended up shipping him back to the Southern Isles. I'm not going to look deeper into why since you've always been one to defy all my reasonings. But… were you poisoned by the Order?"

"Apparently."

Holger's face grew pale, but kept his professional air about him. "Rest now, little brother."

"You aren't going to tell me what's bothering you?"

"I will. But at your current state, I cannot. When you're up on your feet and meet with the rest of us, then we can discuss this."

"Why? What happened, Prince Holger?" Elsa asked.

Holger looked between Elsa and Hans, his green eyes bouncing between blue and a matching set of green. He scratched the underside of his goatee and faced the door.

"Let's speak of this outside, Your Majesty."

###

It had been about a week since Elsa left Arendelle. Anna was faring surprisingly well as the substitute leader of the kingdom, though the first few days were really hectic with trying to balance attention between the asylum seekers and coordinating the coming summit with all the leaders now that Weselton was on board, albeit begrudgingly.

There was a scare when a letter arrived from Elsa, noting that Weselton was now in complete disarray, that they found Hans but in critical condition, and that they directed their course to the Southern Isles for treatment. It was fortunate that the next letter didn't take as long to deliver, only arriving the following day, since it detailed how Elsa was doing and that since Kristoff and Anna were likely finished with the pivotal plans of Arendelle, they were free to relax. In fact, everyone was allowed to breathe a deep sigh of relief, including Hans' brothers that stayed in Elsa's kingdom. He was responding well to the treatment after all, it was only a matter of time until he would regain consciousness.

And so, Kristoff took this time to make a visit that was long overdue.

"Hey, buddy. I missed you."

Kristoff snapped the locks to the wheels of his chair as he angled himself beside the reindeer. Sven snorted happily in response, his feet plopping against the dirt inside the stable.

"I missed you, too!" Kristoff answered back for Sven. The blond chuckled and pulled out a carrot from his pocket. He handed it to the reindeer, who took it with fervent excitement. Sven munched on the orange vegetable with contentment.

"What happened to you? Ever since all the ground-shaking, I haven't seen you. Anna got all sad and said you might not harvest ice anymore!"

"It's… complicated."

"But you love ice! It's your life!"

"I know, I know. I just…" Kristoff hung his head. "I just can't anymore."

Sven brought his snout close to the dejected face of Kristoff, each exhale jostling a few strands that hung in front of the man's forehead.

"Does the family know about this?"

"Yes, they do."

"And Granpabbie is okay with it?"

"Yes. Well… no. I mean–"

"Then why?"

Kristoff clenched his fists atop a pair of knees he could no longer feel. He tugged at the fabric of his pants in anger at the unfairness of it all.

"I can't walk anymore, okay!?"

Kristoff snapped his head back up to glare angrily into Sven's eyes, face red and eyes pricking at the beginning formation of tears. The reindeer bowed his head slightly, bringing his nose even closer to Kristoff's face.

With no warning, Sven licked the width of Kristoff's forehead.

Disgusted but distracted from his internalized anger, Kristoff swiped his forearm against his face to rub off the damp residue that was reindeer saliva.

"Sven! What was that for?"

"Let's go outside. We both need it."

"Didn't you hear what I just said? And I'm not in the mood to go anywhere right now."

"Right now, but how about..."

"Wait, what—?"

Sven sniffed. With a strong tug against the collar of Kristoff's shirt, Sven hoisted Kristoff off his chair and tossed him over his head to land on the brown fur of his back.

Terrified, Kristoff clung to Sven's neck with all the strength he had as the reindeer bucked against the door to his stall, breaking the lock. Sven cantered out of the stall and into the outdoor air, snorting and calling out in merriment. He took off in full gallop toward the open gates of the castle.

A guard they passed by cried out in alarm, "Mister Bjorgman!"

"Tell Anna I'll be back in a bit!" Kristoff called back, grinning in euphoria as he felt the wind brush his cheeks as he held on for dear life. He laughed as they dashed through the busy streets of the town, making themselves into a spectacle on what appeared to be a normal day in the kingdom.

He tried not to pay any attention to the rebuilding efforts Arendelle was undergoing. If he did, then he'd hear the screams of terrified people plummeting to their deaths on his wedding day instead of people screaming in shock and awe at a reindeer having a happy gallop through the markets. He did enough imagining whilst bedridden anyway. It was no question Anna and Elsa would imagine along with him at times.

"Let's go visit the family. I haven't seen them in forever!"

"Lead the way, Sven!"

###

A dark cloud plumed at the foot of Hans' bed as soon as Elsa and Holger left the room. It wisped and curled, the cloud's tendrils spinning and condensing into solid form.

Hans bucked and dug his heels into his bed, pushing himself up the headboard in a sitting position, surprised at the apparition before him. His head pounded and his entire body ached at the jostling.

The clouds dissipated, revealing a very pale, snow-haired man adorned in a black robe and a cloak of scales that shimmered the colors of the rainbow. His irises were blue, his pupils slits that looked reptilian in nature. In them, Hans saw and felt a gravity of anger, loss, and eons past that sent shivers down his spine.

"It pleases me to know that you've finally awoken, my reaper," the man said, the voice a familiar chime and thunder the prince had grown accustomed to since what felt like ages ago, when pixies came into his life and ruined pretty much everything.

Hans' mouth gaped as he held his breath in terrifying realization.

This was the land? Wait, wasn't the land a dragon, too? Nothing was making sense… what…?

Ooh, the medicine Holger gave him must have done a number to his head. A fever dream – yes, that's what this was.

He held his head, a wave of nausea pricked at his cheeks, his brain not comprehending anything that was going on.

"You… can see me?" the man asked. Dragon-man. Land. Monster.

Argh, why did things have to get so much more complicated?

Hans nodded slowly, not wanting to give a verbal answer until his stomach stopped its gymnastics.

A worried look washed over the man's face. He glided across the floor in a way that didn't look like he was walking at all and stopped when he was near the head of the bed. He reached out a hand to touch the prince's face; which Hans recoiled away from.

"Perhaps she was too late in saving you," the man continued, laying the back of his hand to touch Hans' forehead like his mother did years ago when he caught a fever. "Yet your soul still latches onto this plane. How peculiar."

"What's going on?" Hans asked, finding his voice. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"I am Amh'skelajas. I am the earth beneath your feet. I am the bounty and the blight of the harvest. I am the home and grave to every mortal being on this plane. I am the jailer and liberator of nature and magic. As for what I want" –the man withdrew his hand and tucked it behind his back, hidden away under his cloak of scales– "I want balance, and that sorceress that you hold so close to your heart has destroyed it." He turned his gaze deeper into Hans' eyes, an intensely pensive look. "I am immortal and yet you can… see me?"

"I'm assuming that's not normal."

"No one has ever seen my spirit before. Not even my children; the traitors and the chaotic both. No one, at least not since…" A flicker of sorrow rippled through his reptilian eyes. It was promptly extinguished by a hollow rage that made Hans choke back his next breath.

"A very long time ago," the man continued, both the thunder and chime of his voice muted with a menacing rumble. "It appears the times have changed indeed. Never in my existence would I have imagined concerning myself over the welfare of any mortal and his soul in this plane, to even bring myself to leave my domain to roam this place and observe him. Peculiar how that came about.

"And now I find myself fretting over the very mortal that went about and killed me in her ignorance due to the fact that she's responsible for whatever happened to you and could likely reverse it." The man's gaze turned inward for a moment, then redirected his attention to Hans. "Ah, a discussion in the garden. She doesn't seem harmed in any way. And everyone else is accounted for. Good."

###

To Queen Elsa, the Southern Isles wasn't that much different compared to Arendelle. Sure, the climate was a tad bit warmer where she was since the castle of the royal family was a lot more inland than her own back home. The people gave off a vibe of being more on-edge than in Arendelle, too, even after the disaster that struck over a year ago.

It was understandable, though. King Pieter the First's reign caused the people live more prudently and isolated, exacerbated even more so when their once-friendly neighbor Arendelle shut access to their leaders. And then suddenly having a near one-eighty in policies when King Pieter the Second took the throne. Change, while it could be beneficial, can cause great stress after all.

Other than the climate of both the weather and the people, the Southern Isles was remarkably similar to Arendelle. Even the garden where Prince Holger decided for the two of them to speak privately reminded her of the one back at home with the familiar flora that carpeted the place.

She hoped Anna and Kristoff were faring well.

"What's bothering you, Prince Holger?" Elsa asked.

Holger looked over his shoulder, paranoid, before turning to her and murmuring in a low voice, "I've come to a terrible realization, Your Majesty."

"Is this about Hans?" Elsa said, reciprocating the need to not be overheard.

"Yes, as well as the death of Father and Mother, and the king's sudden ability to be aggressive, and…" Holger closed his eyes and let out a long exhale. "Please don't mention this to anyone. After all, I am only a doctor in medical science and have negligible skill in deduction. I'll leave the true detective work to Anders. However…" Holger looked over his shoulder again.

"You and I both agree that Hans was poisoned, correct?" he continued.

"Yes," she replied.

"And you agree with Hans that he was poisoned by the Order of the Lynx?"

"Correct."

"Whose suggestion was it to bring Hans here instead of back to your kingdom?"

"It was King Pieter's."

Holger looked around again. "You were told that my mother and father died to illness, right?"

Elsa nodded.

"It isn't true," Holger said. "They died to poisoning. But my brother Pieter said to keep silent about it. We didn't know the culprits, and we didn't want to worry the rest of the brothers, so he and I agreed to keep quiet until we find out more. I know it's macabre and likely frowned upon by my other medical peers since it's outside of my specialty, but I collected the blood of my parents to study the poison in their bodies. I later made an antidote."

"What… what are you saying?"

"That poison… I've never seen it before, and I've never encountered it again. I had to cease production of the antidote because the temporary embargo of outgoing trade as Pieter transitioned to being king brought the prices too high, not to mention that there hadn't been a need for it ever again. That is, until Pieter suggested to bring Hans here for treatment after getting poisoned by the Order."

"Did he know about the antidote?"

"Of course. Pieter was the one to suggest it. But how did he know that it was the antidote that would save him?"

"You're probably the best physician he knows?"

Holger shook his head. "Far from it. Queen Elsa, I know you're trying to give my older brother the benefit of the doubt, but please tell me that you aren't at least a little suspicious of him."

Elsa looked to her hands and clasped them together. She didn't want to admit it, but deep down she knew something wasn't quite adding up about Pieter. He kept secrets, despite seeming so open about himself to everyone. He seemed like a completely different person when reprimanding his brothers.

He constantly showed himself to be harmless, insecure. Yet Elsa knew firsthand he was anything but. Still, she saw him as a stranger. His brothers would know him better than she would, after all.

"You believe him to be capable of betrayal, Prince Holger?" Elsa asked.

A somber look from Holger. "That's the thing that bothers me: I don't know."

###

"Kristoff!" greeted a worried Bulda in the forest clearing. "You should have been more careful coming out here! What would you have done if you fell off of Sven?"

Kristoff, still atop the back of the reindeer, rolled his eyes good-naturedly and grinned. "He'd have picked me back up again. Sven's a lot more careful than that."

Bulda tsked and crossed her arms, but the corner of her mouth was pulled into an amused smirk.

She opened her mouth to say something, but the words were caught in her throat as she pulled a hand to her head, her face contorted into discomfort.

"Bulda!" Granpabbie called, shambling over to her and Kristoff. "Something has happened with the land."

"You felt it, too?" she asked.

He nodded. "That worries me."

"What? Felt what?" Kristoff said.

"The Land left its domain."

Kristoff hold upon Sven's neck weakened a little. That didn't sound good. "It left? What does that mean?"

Granpabbie rubbed the side of his temples, eyes squinting in mild pain. "I do not know. It's as if there's a void where its essence used to be, like it packed up and left its domain in the magical realm."

"I'll check on the young ones," Bulda said. "They might be frightened at what they're sensing right now."

"Good idea."

"What should we do? Do you think Queen Elsa or Prince Hans had something to do with it?" Kristoff asked.

"For now, all we can do is be cautious and observant of everything, especially the earth beneath our feet. You must bring this news to Princess Anna and have Arendelle be ready for another potential disaster. As for if the queen or the prince are responsible… I fear this might be the case."

###

Hans was distracted from the spectacle of the apparition-like man at his bedside to a few knocks on the door. The door swung open and in stepped King Pieter.

"Hans! Oh, thank goodness you're awake!" Pieter said. "The servants let me know as–"

Pieter froze, his eyes narrowed into slits as they scanned across the room. Slowly, with hinges protesting the movement, the king shut the door behind himself.

The pale, white-haired man just continued to stare at Hans, as if he didn't notice the entrance of the king.

Bewildered, Hans' irises flicked back and forth between his brother and the spirit, his eyebrows knitting together slightly.

"Amh'skelajas ikh," Pieter mumbled under his breath, his eyes still scanning for a presence he felt but didn't seem able to see.

The spirit-man stiffened, his head looking over his shoulder, his eyes flickering of anger.

"Again, there's a mortal invoking me," he said. "Well, one that isn't you, of course."

Wait a minute… they couldn't see each other? Well, sure, that was probably understandable in Pieter's part, since he wasn't in a whole mess of anything magic-related like Hans himself was. The land should be aware of Pieter, right? After all, he knew where everyone was, at least that's what he assumed when he said "everyone was accounted for."

Also… where in the world did Pieter learn that name?

King Pieter crept closer to Hans' bedside, eyes still looking around in suspicion and…

Hostility?

There was no warning when Pieter used one hand to clamp down on Hans' mouth and another to crush his windpipe.

"How in the world a cursed cretin like you could ever find the favor of Amh'skelajas, I'll never understand," Pieter whispered emotionlessly. "But hey, my plans never failed, no matter how impossible it always seems. Things always fall into place just for me."

Hans bucked his feet, trying to find purchase on the bed to ease the pressure against his throat as he clawed and pried at the inhumanely strong vice Pieter had on him.

Wait. Wait. Why wasn't the curse affecting Pieter? He should be a tortured mess by now!

"Your curse can't hurt a man that has no soul, Hans," Pieter said. "And yes, I knew exactly what you were thinking. Just like I knew Elias was a seer that knew too much and that the Order of the Lynx had the resources for me to claim what's rightfully mine."

Pieter released his hold on Hans' face and neck, grabbed onto his collar, and threw him into the dresser in the corner of the room, shattering it into pieces.

"They told me I had a great responsibility," Pieter said, placing a heavy boot against Hans' chest to keep him from getting up. "That I was going to go down in history with the gift of power I was given. Such as that woman who went from rags to the luxury of a kingdom because of people like me. Such as that other woman who was raised by a trio of people like me to help protect her from a curse. Such as that one who brought life to some rotting puppet.

"But what's the use of power if you're not going to use it to its full potential? Why train just so I would be some background character instead of the one having their 'happily ever after.' Besides, I'm not like other mortals. I have no emotions that will cloud judgement. I have no soul that is so easily corrupted. I have the power to alter reality. I am the closest to perfection itself. Why did those foolish people before me show that much restraint?

"I'll tell you why, little brother. They had no creativity. Why, they could've very well been the master of Fate itself if they tried hard enough. And thanks to your sociopathic upbringing–that I was pretty much responsible for, by the way–you've made decisions that I couldn't make without garnering too much negative attention. Aiding in the weakening of the land, getting all the blame put on you, you taking the responsibility of all those sacrifices that further tempered and softened my adversary… And it worked wonderfully! So, now that I'm done with you as I was done with Elias…"

Hans' eyes grew wide as Pieter magically manifested an axe out of thin air. He tried to cry out for help, but his mangled throat only created a weak gasp of air.

"Too bad the poisoning didn't work in subduing your mind," Pieter continued. "You could've been so much more useful as a puppet like our parents and the rest of our siblings. Alas, you just know too much."

It was probably the most pathetic thought to ever cross Hans' mind, but he wondered if anything about his brother was ever real. Pieter was the one who started bringing the family together. Pieter was the one who never tortured or betray him like the others. Pieter even said he loved all of them, even helped to raise them when Father slacked in many ways.

Was it love? With everything, was it all a lie?

"Oh, Hans," Pieter sniffed. A tiny frown indicated that he had just read his mind. "Love is such a… strong word."

The land's spirit looked shaken, his hand rubbing against his chest as his image started to fade into transparency. He glided to where Hans was on the floor, passing through Pieter like a ghost and falling to his knees as the axe descended towards the prince's head.

Hans shut his eyes.

Author's Note: I'm terrible. I'm terrible. Oh man, am I terrible. I'm so horrible. I can't believe I just did that. But I finally got there! I finally wrote the scene that's been eating at me ever since I started Death, Personified.

If you haven't already known by now, I have a deep enjoyment of writing cliffhangers. This is why I'm such a terrible person.

As you guys may or may not have noticed, there's the line from the synopsis near the end of the chapter. I know I mentioned that particular scene was going to be near the end of the whole story (or installment of this story). But I changed my mind on how long I wanted this to be.

After all, this is probably considered the middle of everything I wanted to put in here. Story's not over yet!

A huge round of thanks to everyone who reviewed the previous chapter! I know I sound like a broken record by now, but you guys still brighten my week every time I update. I find that amazing :)

(And for those interested, I now have a tumblr dedicated to my fan fiction writing. You can find the url on my profile page.)