Unbelievable! Albert Weselton was seething as he looked over his reports. Everything had been cobbled together perfectly. Careful preparations made, favors called in from people he never wanted to associate with.

And everyone had to think they knew better. First, that idiot Lord Rialto tried to assassinate Elsa on the journey to the Southern Isles, and now, if the reports were accurate, that bloodthirsty sorceress sank the entire ship instead of murdering Elsa and Anna.

Now, for all Arendelle knew, the ship was attacked by pirates, or who knows, sea monsters, the rabble came up with stupid legends. Nothing that would tie the Southern Isles to their murder. In fact, since a Southern Isles Prince, Sebastian the soldier, also perished in the attack. While Ferdinand, his contact, may have found the man a threat, Albert wanted him alive: He was a fierce foe on the battlefield, and many of Arendelle's soldiers would have fallen to his blade and strategy.

Now, though, Arendelle and the Southern Isles would bond over this shared loss, and their alliance would become stronger than ever. They might even forgive that wretch, Hans. And if they dug for conspiracy, they'd find it.

What was so difficult to understand? Everyone was getting exactly what they wanted from this alliance if they stuck to the plan: The idiot prince and the noblewoman would get the throne, the sorceress would kill her enemies, Weselton would profit, and the rest of the idiots would realize the futility of a throne at war, and too late to do anything about it.

And they were rushing, trying to add things. Who were they trying to impress. Or did they think they could get more from their arrangement. How ridiculous.

That's why Albert always planned ahead in case something like this happened. He'd just have to advance the cause with a few lies. With all souls on the ship lost at sea, no one would exist to contradict the story. And if some clinged to life on the high seas, as was certainly possible, it would be too late. It'd take a day to get a ship there, and longer to find anyone alive. Enough time to at least start a war.

Thank goodness all communication was done by carrier pigeon. And that he knew who all his conspirators were. He might have to kill a few of them as a example: They already violated the arrangement to suit themselves, who could say whether or not they'd sell out Weselton to advance themselves.

But right now, their heads were more valuable where they were. It was time to reach out to his main contact in Arendelle.

Elsa jumped in surprise when she saw the scaffolding burst into flames. By instinct, she reached out towards it with her magic, and put it out just as easily.

"You!" A greatly displeased woman's voice shouted, and Elsa turned to see a wild-haired, ash-covered woman scowling at her.

"You...would do such a horrible thing!" She raised up her hand towards the scaffolding, and again, it erupted into flames. She had magic? At first, Elsa wondered if it was like her own, but one look at the pure smile of delight the woman had on her face as she burned the scaffold told Elsa that, even if she was born with magic, the two women were nothing alike. Elsa knew she was no madwoman.

Elsa put the fire out again, and heard footsteps to her left. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hans, armed with the spear he took. He had left Anna where she was, then? Probably for the best.

"You again? Another princely Prince to burn. Oh, I waited so long, and now they come one after another!" The woman stretched out her arms like she would give Hans a hug.

"Friend of yours?" Elsa didn't take her eyes of the woman.

"No. She was the one who destroyed the ship. She killed Sebastian. She is the Witch of Dark Flames." Hans kept himself in a martial stance. Elsa supposed, just like Harold, this crazy woman wasn't about to just let them go. Did she have Anna? She didn't seem the type of person to use a person as a trap. Plus, Elsa would have expected Anna's rowboat to have been incinerated by this crazy woman, who now immolated a wooden buttress above Elsa and Hans, causing them to scatter. And there was still the matter of the strange elderly woman: The tracks Hans saw, and the voice Elsa heard while searching this place.

Right now, though, Elsa had to concentrate on this.

"You knew this woman's name. Know how this magic of hers works?" The only other magic-user she knew was Grand Pabbie of the trolls.

"No. Only magic-user I ever fought was you."

"Wonderful." Elsa used a blast of magic to put out a fire, it was the only thing that seemed to distract the crazy lady. As the woman moved to re-ignite the flames, Hans stepped forward with his spear, the woman dodged and weaved away from him. Hans continued to step forward, only to watch the woman ignite another wooden buttress. Hans had to roll away from crushed underneath flaming debris.

Elsa put the fire out again. She wanted to shout out to Hans about avoiding the palisades and buttresses and fighting out in the open courtyard, but she couldn't. Distracting him by talking to him would be just as bad.

The rule about fighting sorcerers and other magic users were simple: Kill them before they could do anything crazy. If they couldn't be killed fast, figure out how their magic worked and fight with that in mind. That was what Sebastian had said about it, and he'd fought more than one.

This crazy woman didn't attack either him or Elsa directly with her fire, so perhaps she was unable to. She also seemed to gesture in the direction she wished to attack, although distance was no factor once she selected a direction.

Get in spear range, keep her attention, don't get under anything wooden. It was as good an idea as any. Hans took several steps forward and attacked. The crazy lady dodged artfully, and stretched her arm out towards the tower where Anna had been asleep. The wooden shutters on the door immolated themselves, and Hans could a loud woman's scream.

"Anna!" It didn't belong to Elsa, it seemed, Elsa put the fire out almost immediately.

"Don't you..." The crazy woman started, but Hans moved in to attack. She got away at the last second.

"I am your opponent!" Hans shouted. Anna would be okay if the crazy woman didn't have her attention. He took another step closer.

"Come and die in my arms!" The woman giggled.

"I'm very good at breaking hearts. Your case will just be more literal!" He thrust his spear towards her chest, she jumped backwards. Hans kept on the offense for several more strikes, until he stepped on a part of the ground that was uneven.

The woman took advantage of it, and kicked him in the leg. Hans brought his other foot backward to keep his balance, and the woman charged forward, grappling the spear with him. Hans expected her to light the thing on fire, but she didn't. Was that another limitation? Or, unlike Queen Elsa, was she not immune to her own powers? Unlikely, she seemed fine after lighting the ship ablaze.

Hans twisted the spear to try to get her to lose her grip, but she moved her arms with it.

"So you know your weapons." If he couldn't keep her attention by fighting, he could keep it by talking.

"I was a soldier before I became this."

"Cackling mad?"

"Something more. Surely your Prince Sebastian told you who I am."

"There's only one person who would be here who was a soldier. You must be Richelle. The bloodthirsty barbarian." Sebastian had never mentioned magic before. But that could be for any reason. Hans took a step left to try and wrench the spear from her, but she still held on. But it did give Hans a view of the rest of the courtyard. Elsa had disappeared, probably to get Anna. Left him here to deal with the crazy fire-witch all by himself.

Figures. They were supposed to be working together. Perhaps it was just the regicide thing, she was taking it way too personally. It was like she thought it was a personal slight.

Oh well, that was always the case. Even without regicide, everyone always left. They found their alliance too "inconvenient" or they wanted something more. That was just the way of the world. They'd filter back in the second the danger was over, and pretend like they were there the whole time: Just the way everyone else did alliances.

Hans pushed, pulled, and twisted, trying to knock Richelle off balance. But she kept moving and dodging. It could almost be a dance.

"What's going on...Elsa!" Hans heard Anna's voice scream in the distance. He couldn't look, though. The second after he heard her scream, he could feel the ground underneath his feet get cold. Taking the barest of glances downward, he could see the stones beneath his and Richelle's feet grow cold.

Richelle stumbled slightly, just enough for Hans to shove her forward, and wrenched the spear from her grasp.

"Grrrr!" Richelle turned, and Hans saw Anna and Elsa at the doorway, Elsa bent down, clearly having used her magic to freeze the ground underneath their feet.

"I've had enough of you!" A tiny rivet of fire emerged from Richelle's outstretched hands, pointing towards Anna. The wall next to her was covered in an old, tattered banner. Something very, very flammable.

If Richelle set it on fire, there'd be no way Elsa could put it out in enough time, Anna would be severely injured, possibly even killed, given that there were no doctors or medicine nearby.

Anna's eyes widened as she saw the fire, Elsa barely looked up in time to see it. There was no time: Hans kept his grip tight on his spear, and plunged it straight into Richelle's back.

"Hrk." She turned around to face him, clearly surprised at the attack. Was she truly from the Southern Isles? No one from his home was surprised to get stabbed in the back.

"Oh..." Anna was clearly unused to such violence. Hardly a surprise. Wouldn't it be funny when she asks the story of what Elsa had been doing since they separated: Elsa would have to mention she was a killer, too.

"Hahaha!" Richelle, still with the spear stuck inside of her, started to laugh.

"Knock off that laughing, unless you want me to rip the spear back out." Until meeting this woman, Hans had thought Conrad's laughter after his pranks was the worst thing he had ever heard. But fate wanted to prove him wrong.

She continued to smile and laugh, and looked at him with a piercing stare.

"It's your turn, now!" She laughed once more before she fell over. At once, her body starting bursting into flames, so much Hans had to jump back, his spear hopelessly burned to cinders. The flames died just as quickly, and Hans found himself looking at a charred corpse.

"Let's...get out of here." What else was there to say at this point? He turned around and walked back to the cliff.

The Crone watched the scene, but had treated it with vague disinterest until the end. The Queen, the natural magical talent, had such fine control over her power, she could freeze the slightest bit of ground. Still had to work in a line from a point of origin, but that could have just been a limitation of her power. That could be worked around.

Richelle didn't notice anything about the Queen's talents. Of course, she didn't really have time before the young Prince ran her through.

Good riddance. Richelle carried the curse simply because she was selected for it, not for any brilliance on her part. All the power she commanded, and all she could think to do was burn. It was hard enough to explain the limitations of the curse to her.

And she didn't have the faculties to think of a way around the curse, I had to practically spell out she could use it on something that wasn't a person. Everyone who had the Burning Curse was the same way: They thought it's only purpose was to reduce the world to ashes.

The Crone had thought, perhaps the Queen could have taken the power. Surely she, who had some magical talent, could understand it, and use it the way it was meant to be used. But that went nowhere, now that Richelle was dead.

But all was not lost. The Burning Curse would never subside simply by its owner's death. Richelle had been the seventh in a line to possess it. And while all of the previous bearers had been people of raging emotions, there was a certain calm around these people. Maybe all was not lost, maybe someone would finally use it the way it was meant to be used.