Chapter 13

Oblivion; the unfortunate, inescapable outcome of all life. An infinite emptiness where thought, feeling and memory dissipate into nothing, for there must only be nothing for it to be. It is said that the closest to experiencing it is when one is stripped of all things tangible, save the knowledge that he exists at all; a fate worse than death. But one entity had sought to defy its rule, driven purely by the need to succeed and survive.

It felt like forever in a blink to Gerhard Schmidt as his soul filled the void and slowly he regained his senses; a heartbeat, warm breath, cold skin and a strange pressure on the verge of a headache. His reanimation was completed with every fibre of his body in agony, especially in the eyes now he could open them; he was buried in snow. With great difficulty he wiped it away, and saw his face on the black surface underneath.

It looked backed still and drained, as if having witnessed so much abuse that nothing shocked it anymore. Schmidt's reaction was the oppposite, pangs that seared his head as he writhed in torment from images that flashed before him, brief, unfocused, but with strong instincts of power, freedom, bondage, weakness, destruction. The pain increased as the pictures grew brighter and sharper, all featuring the object of his desire - to kill.

She made the pain. She struck you down. She must die.

The demon heart burned with a vengeance, interfering with Schmidt's conscience as he struggled to get back on his feet, and what surrounded him drew both fear and hatred. It was as if oblivion still threatened to crush him in the form of a black starless sky, held up only by a harsh moon. A biting wind whistled through dark glass structures, resembling half-sunken devil wings that dwarfed him, rough-hewn chunks imbedded inside, and like a hall of mirrors, showed distorted visions of his soul. There was no pattern to them, each pointing in their own direction, some even have appeared to have merged violently with others, a result of a collision, perhaps...

His fury worsened at how he did not figure it out immediately: These were not wings, but waves of a raging sea in suspended animation, and rising above them all in the distance was North Mountain, its might wounded by a huge gash that was once its peak. His hands melted a way through, but the air began to feel a little cooler; he felt his power drip away with each breath, hunched in the wolfhund coat that weighed him down. With him being so tired he was in danger of collapsing, but in his determination the mountain grew bigger with each blink. How much time passed when he did was of no concern - what kept him going was something which was always just out of view. Among the ice was a single blue reflection that disappeared whenever he looked straight at it. She was following him, evident in her cold voice reverberating in every direction.

"When Dante reached the Devil in the deepest level of Hell, the tears of Man's sins have gathered there since his beginning, and with it being furthest from the warm love of Heaven, turned into a frozen lake, where the worst of all people are imprisoned; such were their crimes that they will never be released again."

Schmidt continued onwards against his shivering body, resisiting the urge to rest as the waves lessened in size and number. Eventually the mountain was in full view, a glacier of white blood spilled all the way to the snowy shore, blinding in its purity. It looked more like a way out, a stairway to Heaven perhaps, but he would not survive such a journey in his state. A tap on his left shoulder made him turn around, only to see nothing, but a cool breeze on his right infuriated him as Elsa was in front; he was tricked by child's play.

"Is this where you want to end up Gerhard? Knowing how many people you'll betray if you carry on like this; Ludwig? Mr. Holstein? Hammerfall? And for what, to satisfy your feelings?"

The heat around his feet was shrinking, ice encroaching ever closer to him. His face contorted as the demon clung to his mind in desperation. Time was running out, but if there was just one final act he could do... He kept his hand hidden, summoning what remained of his power within it, distracting Elsa with words, unknowing that his concentration exposed the demon through his voice.

"Why so stubborn Madame? We are doomed, but look at the destruction by our hands! If you embrace your full potential, we could rule the world together! Who would dare oppose us? But no, you chose to remain high and mighty knowing damn well we failed to conceal our miserable little pile of secrets, and to that I say, TO HELL WITH YOU!"

He may not live to see the fruits of his labour, but the thought of all he chaos he would wreak doing so was worth it, and with his final gambit to spite the world, threw all his infernal power at Elsa.

The spark bounced harmlessly off her.

She never even flinched; she knew he could not do it. In the futility of his fate, Schmidt stood straight and started to giggle, growing louder and more erratic until his howling echoed across the mountainside. His shivering stopped and he smiled - lacking anything meaningful in its delirium.

"You never cease to amaze me Madame. Each time I see you, I am filled with more wonder than I thought I could. You truly are fit to lead a nation; Hell, you would have risen to the top even if fate handed you a harlot's life. I used to think I was a match for you, but what seperates us is that you have proven to be incorruptible, unlike I, and so I hereby declare that you, Elsa, Queen of Arendelle, are unequalled under Heaven. Tell me, did the cold ever bother you?"

"No."

Only after she answered did she notice Schmidt was not quite looking at her. In fact, she had never seen him at such peace in his stillness, or how wrong it looked, especially when his shadow had turned pale.

"Me neither... until now."

Elsa was petrified as the fire in Schmidt's eyes faded before he fell, his breath a single unbroken arc that scattered in the wind, and hit the ground with a soft thud.

She grabbed him, called him, shook him, anything to wake him up, yet there was no response. It was becoming less of rousing him and more beating back what she did not want to accept, but one can only refuse reality for so long, and slowly she was constricted by the impending truth, until it was laid bare for her to see that she was left holding a broken toy soldier. Her despair manifested as clouds that obscured the sky, and Heaven wept, frozen tears descending and settling on the pair in the silent darkness, the beginning of the longest winter...

Schmidt's gasp siezed Elsa into pure shock, a tangled mass of confusion and paused snow at how this husk looked back the same way, twitching, panting and sobbing in her arms. "I am a fool! I do not deserve your love Madame! I thought I could keep my heart in check, only to become the very thing I feared the most, and brought shame to everyone dear to me! How can I hope to gain redemption after what I have done!? Please tell me it was all a nightmare! A horrible, horrible-"

Elsa slapped his face, but it left both stunned. It came from nowhere, a reaction driven solely by emotion, yet in this moment of blindness, they saw a revelation, the true nature of their existence. Their hopes, dreams, fears, flaws, their dedication to bettering people and proving themselves fit for Heaven; they really were no different to each other. "We're both fools," she cried, "I toyed with your heart to appease mine, because it led to you losing yourself despite your best efforts, but that's exactly what happened to me. You've been through the worst and came out on the other side; for that, I know you'll never do it again!"

"How can you be so certain when I- when I wanted to-"

That he could not even say someting so awful was enough proof as she placed his cold hand on her chest.

"I forgive you."

Schmidt could not believe what he heard, yet joy flowed from his eyes as his attempts to thank her were stammered at best. The two hugged in pure, unadulterated love. Schmidt however was still weakened from the battle as he struggled to keep his hold on Elsa. "Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?" she asked.

"I could use a drink."

He waited obediently as she cupped her hand over his mouth, watching his relief when he imbibed the virgin snow she was pouring, savouring this need to soothe him, shelter him, protect him, for that the boy she held in her bosom was not her lover, but-

"Heaven's grace!" she yelled, "I just remembered! Kristoff said you had a personal question for Ludwig. I know what it is: Who's your mother?"

"You mean, who was?"

"Who is."

Schmidt suddenly sat up, almost knocking Elsa back as his lupine eyes lit up with renewed fervour.

"Have you met her!?"

"Save your strength!" she answered, laying him down again; she wondered how he could still be so active despite his injuries. "I'll tell you everything I know."

He listened intensely when she regaled Sister Juli's plight, the deterioration of Hammerfall through Mr. Holstein's letter, his sacrifice, the Regem Aquilonis and her battle with the titan. "Thinking back," she said, "I was told you were either born with magic or have it cursed upon you. Something tells me it was the latter in your case, with what your mother went through, and with the ancients words..."

She seized up in fear at a new notion, one she had not considered before. "Gerhard, I know this sounds terrible, but with Hammerfall being all about progress and discovery, I can't shake off this notion that you were... manufactured"

The theory made him peturbed and angry. "The engineers would never subject anybody to such cruelty! Besides, they dismissed magic as superstition until the Big Freeze."

Yet the idea stuck. If Juli rescued him from the asylum out of motherly love, why did she not raise him herself? Did she know he was meant for a grander scheme, one that seemed determined to conquer Arendelle even if it destroyed Hammerfall in the process? "Gerhard," Elsa whispered, not wanting him to be so upset, "We can decide what to do tomorrow. Let's sleep."

They waited in silence, yet the sleep did not come. Maybe the bleakness of their surroundings prevented it, or that their minds would not rest with everything that happened. It irritated her that this moment of respite felt like anything but, especially as Schmidt was in deep thought despite what she said. After a while he chuckled, at what she did not know, but he was eager tell her. "You know Elsa, we should consider ourselves grateful for what we have and what has occured between us; even our enemies would envy at what we went through. Also, the tale of Dante did not end at Hell."

"And what about it?"

"I see myself as him, and you, the Devil."

"Don't you mean Beatrice?" she asked, annoyed that he came to such a comparison.

"Well, in that case..."

He sat up and held her arms. The fire had returned, and she felt it from his hands, swimming through her veins and into her heart. It was only a loose grip, yet she was unable to free herself, caught by his lupine eyes that softened with a warm smile, the sensation she felt in the garden. Again she tried to escape, and managed to gather enough strength to push him away, but instead unfastened the chain on his coat. This embarassment only made her hotter, the snowflakes barely afloat as they twinkled under a peeking moon, and turned into shooting stars falling through her quivering hands. "When we first met," Schmidt said, "I was but a lost puppy, sad, confused, seeking love, purpose and assurance. You sought to keep him as your pet, relishing every chance as you teased him with drips of honey, hoping to win him over. You should be more careful how you treat animals, because this puppy has grown into a wolf - and now he wants the whole pot!"

She concentrated to prevent herself from giving into him, but as she fought the lapping waves of his aura, the urge only grew stronger, rain mingling with sweat from every pore. It did not help that Schmidt simply looked on with bemused admiration; he was permitting her the dignity of knowing that she resisted. Her only defence left was to break eye contact, but even this was impossible. Suddenly there was a distraction, something that may save her, a wet splat on the ground, but it was not to be - it was a part of her sleeve that dropped off in the heat, and she despaired in her desire as the rest of her gown slowly melted away, revealing pink, glistening skin, leaving her exposed in both body and soul; a goddess on her knees. "Can you not see how beautiful you look right now?" said Schmidt, "It is your body telling you to embrace nature. Open yourself, and allow me to make you even more beautiful!"

She was reaching fever pitch, and still she desperately clung to what remained of her prudence, under siege against hard rain, a throbbing heart and heavy breath. She was backed onto a precipice, the point of no return, and that was when Schmidt made his move, using her own strike against her. "Elsa," he whispered, "Let..."

"Gerhard please don't!"

"It..."

"Gerhard please!"

"...Go."

Her fears ceased the moment she layed into him, her mouth in his. Such sensual, sloppy motions however were just the hors d'oeuvres of what was to come. She wanted more and she wanted it now, stripping away his coat, his tunic, his shirt, his trousers, and finally reaching his flesh. There was a perverse delight seeing him wince as she pressed the bruises on his hot, firm muscles, making her feel all the more tender when he pinned her down and suckled her breasts. Elsa was caught off-guard in such titillation, and screamed in agony when he shoved himself into her. It felt as if she had been stabbed, but she was not going to let pain stop her now, and gripped him so hard she dug her nails into him.

The living engine pushed on relentlessly, the full force of his passion and determination in each thrust, working her up into magical hysteria, her sensibilities consumed in the downpour until she was awash in a torrid storm of rapturous purgatory and primal rhythm. Here was the queen of Arendelle, raised as the pinnacle of civility for others to aspire, reduced to a drooling, whining beast. Deep inside, Elsa felt a familiar spark, the countdown to ecstacy she had experienced many times alone, only now like the sea, it was swelling bigger and harder than ever before, and questioned if she had bitten off more than she could chew, but she noticed Schmidt too was struggling to hold it in. She had gone so far to earn his heart and she was not going to let him down now, spirit soaring heavenward and defying the limits of her body as the pressure became unbearable, until finally...

Elsa exploded in pleasure, her cry drowned out by the erupting ocean waves. Such bliss remained longer than they ever felt, yet it was still too short as it dissipated in the rain, cleansing their souls as they returned to their trembling bodies, and collapsed together, exalted and exhausted. Even as drained as she was, Elsa saw Schmidt vulnerable in his fatigue, sneaking in one more kiss, and what he gasped afterwards were the words she longed to hear, the crowning confirmation of her victory over the Wolfhound:

"I surrender!"

The moon overlooked the sky high above, accompanied by the few stars that withstood its majesty. From North Mountain down to the calm sea and beyond, the world bathed in its soft glow, gentle waves rolled like sheets of satin as they bubbled onto the beach. One could say on that night, this place was where Heaven and Earth met - were it not so bitterly cold. To the lounging lovers however, it was nothing.

Elsa wrapped herself around Schmidt while she was enveloped in his warmth. They had not spoken since their climax; there was no need to. They treasured the silence, taking in the tranquility of their surroundings, sometimes feeling their hair, ribbons of gold and jet entwined, or being playful with their magic, one's power in harmony with the other to create what they could not alone, Elsa shaping Schmidt's flame into a heart, his heat smoothing her crystal into one that outshone diamond, and both combined to animate liquid into many things; complex shapes, constellations, fantastic creatures. She knew exactly how Schmidt felt, embracing who he truly was and being free from the fear of his burden.

The plaything in their hands froze into a violent, indistinct mass, of chaos caught in a still frame. "What's the matter?" Elsa asked, wondering why he became sullen and stopped his magic.

"It is just... Well, I am unsure if father would approve of what I have done. I fear I have let him down."

"Let him down? What would his noble family have thought had he not swore to avenge them? Or your mother had he refused you? Even if he desired to go his own way, he couldn't because he was still a wanted man outside Hammerfall. He kept you because he must've known something fishy was going on when he was discharged from the military, moreso when he discovered your powers; whoever's pulling the strings wouldn't be able to go after him without inciting wrath from the citizens who still hold his respect. Remember his mantra?"

How could he not forget? But hearing those words in his head, it reaffirmed his own conviction of why he wanted to see Elsa: Not only because he loved her, but also to show that she was not the only mancer. However, it was not enough to completely dispel his doubt. "Still not convinced?" she said coyly, "Then how about this: Would Ludwig Schmidt, the Southern Valravn, scourge of the aristocracy, be so ashamed if he found out his son just banged a queen?"

That made him grin. Why would the father not be proud of Gerhard achieving his dream, just as he turned his back on the old ways to achieve his? "I must confess," he said, "I was unsure not only of my actions - I decided to serve you before we made love, but also of what I must do from now, and so I ask: Do you have faith in me?"

"Yes."

"And will you do whatever is necessary in the best interests of your people?"

"Yes!"

"Then I must leave."

Elsa could not believe what he said, and held him to the sand in ice. "You can't just swear loyalty and then abandon me!" she pleaded, "I command you to stay! We can use our magic together and stop the war from happening! Everybody would be too afraid to-"

The realisation of what she said sent a chill down her spine like no other; to take such drastic action could be seen as rule through terror, a direct violation to House Arendelle's foundations of justice and compassion. "Both of us have seen glimpses of another enemy," Schmidt added, melting the ice and laying her down, "One who wishes to remain unknown in whatever it seeks. I know this is difficult, but if we prevent this conflict, they will move underground and we lose all hope of finding them. We need to learn more about who we are facing before we combat it, and our best chance for this is that you must do as I say. Now listen carefully..."

It all made sense to Elsa when Schmidt explained his plan, yet she struggled to accept that he had to run away again. "But you're a child of Hammerfall!" she begged, "How can they be saved when-"

Her words died as her body relaxed in his gentle heat, slowly draining her conscience as he wiped away the tear from her face. "As father turned his back on the imperial way, so I must abandon the homeland to preserve the principles it has now forsaken. I am not a child of Hammerfall; I am Hammerfall."

Tried as she might to fight the approaching slumber, all she could do was sigh when he placed his coat over her body. "Elsa, if there was an easier way, by Hell I would do it! If you find yourself in danger of despair, remember this: I have given you something that I vow to return to see, and that I am doing this for Heaven, for Mankind and for you, my angel, my Athena, my flutterby!"

In such cosy bliss, Elsa's eyes grew ever heavier, and keeping them open eventually became impossible. The last thing she saw was his beautiful smile, the face of a dream coming to an end, sealed with his kiss, and with the last of her energy, she whispered

"Go get 'em Wolfhound!"