Author's Note:

I'm planning to put it all in a single chapter but it's too long, so I'll have to split it.

Chapter Twenty Five: Sunlight on the Horizon

WISTY

I could hardly believe it. Hans, a man with a stony heart, stripped of authority and power. Hans, a ruthless and sadistic ruler, gone.

Now that the stillness and calmness in the hills had resettled, the pain in my temple from the punch Hans delivered and the throb in my forearm from the sharp twist he gave it returned in full force. I bent forward to keep from stumbling, suddenly light-headed owing to the fatigue and the battle.

I seemed to have lost the ability to talk. "Whit…" I wheezed. "Pearce…"

Elsa nodded, not needing me to say more. I lumbered to her side. She spun a whirlwind of ice crystals and snowflakes. I barely noticed as it carried us away from the snowy hills, the silvery haze dispersed, and we arrived back on the North Mountain. I charged up the frozen staircase and darted past the grand entrance of the ice palace, Elsa hard at my heels. Heart hammering in apprehension, I bolted up that long flight of crystal blue stairs from which I had tumbled down to the room where I'd left Whit and Pearce.

They were in the exact same positions as when I last saw them—still as statues.

I'm not too late. I am not.

"Whit!" I rushed and collapsed next to him. "Please be alright. Tell me you're alright," I sniffed.

Elsa brought a worried hand to her mouth, her astonished intake of breath all too loud for me to hear. "Oh my God, what happened to them?"

Whit looked so lifeless, so pale… Tears rolled down my cheeks. I exasperatedly wiped them away but more pooled in my eyes, blurring my vision. I explained to Elsa between sobs, "Pearce b-broke several of Whit's b-bones and he was hurt r-really bad an—and I knocked Pearce out before h-he could kill me."

"He broke his bones?" Moisture glazed Elsa's eyes. "Oh my God," she repeated softly.

I tucked an arm under my brother and pulled him into my arms. "Please be alright, Whit," I whispered. I laid a hand on his chest and smiled weakly when I felt the pulse of his heartbeat pumping steadily, refusing to give up. I repeated my reassuring words to him over and over, hugging him like I never wanted to let go. "You're gonna be OK." I sniffed, took deep breaths to calm myself, and closed my eyes. "You're okay."

I didn't reopen my eyes until I felt the gentle touch of my brother's hands on my back, then his arms. They wrapped around me, soft and hesitant at first, then surer and stronger. "Wisty." Hearing him say my name only brought more wetness to my eyes, and I squeezed them shut to stop the tears from spilling, hugging Whit tighter.

I watched Elsa sink to her knees beside Pearce, touching him like a friend would to revive him.

I broke loose from our hug, looked at Whit, and smiled at the sign of colour returning to his cheeks. "You didn't think I'd leave you in this world on your own, did you?" Whit asked, running a thumb over my cheekbone to brush away a tear.

A laugh burst from my lips, and I rubbed his arm. "How are you?"

He straightened and rolled his shoulders. "I'm fine. I was suffering from severe internal bleeding due to my fractured bones, but when I was, you know, asleep, I wasn't drifting in unconsciousness like I appeared to be. I was…I don't know…in a dimension of peace and quietness, where I could use my mind to mend and heal." He flexed his limbs. "I guess that's how I mended my bones."

"They've reconnected?"

"All put back together."

"That's amazing," I said. We stood up. My brother stretched.

As one, Whit and I turned to our friends. Pearce stirred and opened his eyes, and Elsa stood and stepped away from him as he staggered to his feet. Pearce groaned, "What the heck did you do to me, Wisty?"

I glanced sidelong at Whit. When I saw him tense I said, "Relax, Whit. Elsa had Hans remove his mind control on him. Pearce is back to himself."

Mistrust still evident on his features, Whit braced his hands on his hips and inquired of him, "Well? Are you?"

Pearce held up his hands to show he hadn't anything to hide. "Suspect me all you want, Whit, but I'm pretty sure I am who I am." His gaze was honest, sincere, and hard.

I've got so many questions to ask him about what he had been through under Hans's spell, and apparently so did Whit and Elsa. Pearce seemed to have sensed this, for before any of us could say anything he deliberately interjected, "What has befallen Arendelle's great King Hans? I take it that he didn't return means he's dead."

"No," I countered. Pearce's eyes narrowed in perplexment, and the words were suddenly hard to come out. "His twelve brothers tracked him down with magic. They took him away."

"What?" Whit asked, astounded.

Taking a deep breath, Elsa recounted the events that occurred in the wintry forest on that hill. Feeling too traumatized to hear it again so soon after I had experienced it, I focused on the boys' reactions instead. As they listened, Whit's astounded expression gradually faded and was replaced by sympathy. Soon he was nodding in understanding and compassion, fully accepting our enemy's fate.

Pearce's expression, on the other hand, darkened as he fought the urge to scream in protest. With each sentence Elsa uttered his features contorted more and more in fury. When Elsa was done, Pearce tittered incandescently, licked his lips, and shook his head in disbelief. "Do you realize the rashness of what you've agreed to?" he rebuked. "By sparing Hans and letting him go, you're doing nothing but triggering rebellion among his soldiers. They will revolt against you and demand that you hand back over their king, and until you do, they won't rest."

Unease built in my gut at the prospect of an uprising. Neither Elsa nor I had given thought to it.

My anxiety only worsened as Pearce continued, "At least killing Hans will cause them to abandon hope and despair. But because of your imprudent course of action, that definitely isn't happening!"

"The King and Queen of the Southern Isles expect him to return," Elsa stepped forward and disputed. "Hans's family wants him alive. If I had killed him, don't you think it'll stir up revolution in his kingdom? The Southern Isles has been a trade partner of Arendelle for decades, the relations between our realms have always been cordial, and I will not imperil that relationship by ending the life of one of their royal siblings and princes. Hans's parents will see to it that their son pays for his villainous deeds. They will be the ones appropriate to decide whether he should or shouldn't die, not me."

"It is your kingdom that Hans usurped, not theirs!" Pearce's voice raised an octave as he contended, "Of course the decision of his fate should fall to you!"

Elsa recoiled at the harshness of his tone but did not break his accusatory gaze.

"How could you not kill him after all that he stole from you and everything he's done?"

"Pearce," Whit warned.

Pearce ignored him. "You had the chance to annihilate him, Elsa, and you didn't. Back on the Black Mountains I told you that if it comes down to just you and Hans, you must destroy him. You solemnly promised me that you would. You said you wanted to hold Hans in the palm of your hands and crush him. You swore that you will reduce him into nothing."

The two of them had a conversation? I did not know that.

Elsa's retort was almost desperate. "Had his brothers not come for him, I would have! I didn't hold back or felt any remorse when I plunged that enchanted dagger in his gut. I was going to destroy him!"

"Well, too late," Pearce said quietly. "If it's not Arendelle Hans's comrades choose to target, it'll be the Southern Isles, since that's where their king is now." He smirked at Elsa. "You might not have to fret about the safety of your people after all."

Whit cut in, "And that's what you want? For Hans's warriors to attack the Southern Isles, Elsa's ally?"

"Why would I want that when I don't even give a damn about them?" Pearce said.

"I do," Elsa responded coolly, finally finding her ground again.

"Doesn't matter. Whether it's against their realm or yours, the revolt's likely to happen anyway."

Was it going to happen? How could the wizard be so certain of that? There was a brief pause in which none of us said anything.

As though he was making an announcement for anybody who would agree with him to hear, Pearce said loudly, "Hans should be dead." He lowered his voice. "You should've killed him, Elsa." With a last hard look at her, he walked away, angrily bumping Whit's shoulder.

"Pearce…" I called his name, even though I didn't know what to say. But he spun on the spot and vanished.

This was not how I expected things to turn out. Our nemesis had been vanquished, and outside the frozen palatial walls, sunlight shone radiantly on the horizon. Sunlight that banished the darkness and evil Hans and his greed-consumed men had brought to the realm. Sunlight that promised triumph and jubilation. So why was I still feeling empty? Like I hadn't won anything at all?

Elsa's next breath quavered on its way out. "Let's head back to Arendelle," she said.

I moved in to take Whit and Elsa's hand. We revolved in our positions and left.

We found ourselves back in the castle courtyard. Hans might have been conquered, but around us battle was still raging. I scanned the area for Pearce, but he was nowhere in sight. It was impossible to guess where else he could be apart from here. Concern took over my mind. I glimpsed a burly man with pink nose, strawberry-blonde hair, and moustache who unmistakably must be Oaken drive his massive fist into a guy's face so ferociously the fortress wall he was backed up against cracked. Moving on, Oaken picked up a bloke in mid-duel with a wizard I recognized and threw him in the air with a mighty swing of his arms. A City adult fought a soldier with a wooden staff a few feet away. In a single stride, Oaken skulked to the adult's opponent, snatched the staff from his hands, and clocked him with it on the back. My stomach twisted at the crunch of spine snapping. The staff broke in two. Its owner fell limp to the ground.

"Can I use the help of one of you to magically amplify my voice?" Elsa requested, and I tore my attention from Oaken to look at her.

I blinked. "For what?"

She shifted her weight to a different leg in impatience. "Just do it."

I reached to the sky and brought to my imagination a witch's wand. The tool formed in my hand mere seconds later, and my fingers curled around its base. It was deep purple, stylish and intricate. I pointed it at Elsa's throat and uttered a short spell. A tiny sphere of lilac glowed from its tip, illuminating the skin of Elsa's neck. When the glow died out, I lowered the wand. Elsa muttered her thanks. The pair of splendid azure blue wings of ice I saw earlier developed from her shoulder blades, and Whit's step almost faltered as he marvelled at its stupendous beauty.

"Wow," he let out.

Giving her wings a flap and stirring up wind that fanned strands of hair in front of my face, Elsa kicked off her toes and soared into the air. Whit and I ran across the courtyard to catch up with her, threading our way past the battling people.

Elsa flew over the ramparts above the sea on the left side of the bridge, which was where Whit and I stopped. No wonder the sight of the Ice Queen with her wings left my brother staggered. Elsa did look gorgeously breathtaking. From afar, she was a glorious faerie, an angel. She wheeled and dived before gracefully landing on the sea. A vast sheet of ice spread rapidly beneath her and froze the waters the moment her feet contacted the surface. I gazed at her from my position—a lone, winged figure in golden armour. The mild fighting occurring on the bridge ceased too as combatants turned to stare at her.

"Warriors of the golden sugar maple, I would like to have your attention," Elsa called, her voice ringing as loud and clear as day, the end of each of her sentences echoing. The clash and clang of blades and the shouts and grunts of battle softened and went quiet. I swore every part of our surroundings—the fortress, trees, mountains, even the sky and the sea—had stopped their cycle of life to hear what the Ice Queen had to say.

"Your King has been taken away by his royal brothers back to the Southern Isles. The realm where he truly belongs. He will be severely punished for forcefully conquering Arendelle, along with all the wrongdoings he had committed before that." Elsa paused to allow her enemies to digest the information, then went on, "Hans has been vanquished! He is never coming back to lead or care for you. As the legitimate and rightful Queen of this kingdom, I banish you from Arendelle, never to return. Should I discover any of you bold and reckless enough to do so, your penalty will be death. Be it swift and sudden or prolonged and agonizing, you will die. You flocked to Hans and arrived here for royalty and power, but let me tell you this: the rich and wealthy may appear to be comfortable and possess luxury and sumptuousness, but that does not mean they have it together at all times. It does not mean they live easier and happier lives than you do. Return to your former occupations as stablemen, farmers, and stonemasons. Be content with what you got. The world needs men like you. I cannot do anything about your supernatural powers, but I wish that your magic will be used for good, and to make the world a better place."

I smiled, for I was feeling touched, and hoped that Hans's comrades were doing the same.

Elsa's tone was harsh and dictatorial when she next spoke. "If you ever in the future rally your forces to wage war on the Southern Isles to retrieve Hans, or even attempt to carry out that course of action, I, and my army of witches and wizards, will hunt you down without mercy."

And on that note, Elsa beat her ice wings, rose, and flew to the bridge on Whit's other side. Stares from Hans's troops and the City magicians followed.

Elsa looked like a huge burden had been lifted off her shoulders. She was jollier than I'd ever seen her. "Superb announcement," I congratulated to further lighten the mood.

Whit questioned, "Do you think they will leave?"

Elsa had never sounded surer. "They will."

And they did.

Hans's men surrendered to our forces, withdrew their weapons, and began readying for departure. All fighting stopped.

While Elsa allowed the soldiers to enter the castle to fetch and pack their belongings, I went to the village and used my powers to reduce Olaf back to ordinary size. The gargantuan stone behemoth prowling the village on the lookout for soldiers to crush or rip apart separated into rock trolls. In this form, they seemed so amicable and innocent you'd never know about the monstrous things they did as a rock golem unless you had seen them yourself.

Not all Hans's comrades wished to return to what they previously were. They refused to take Elsa's advice, and I wasn't entirely surprised. Hans had delivered these people from the shitholes in which they called their dwelling places and granted them more than they could dream of. Hans had transformed them. With their ruler gone, life was miserable and purposeless. Afraid of landing in destitution, they chose the only means of escape: suicide. They ran themselves through, slit their throats, or used magic to annihilate themselves. It was the easy choice. A coward's choice. There was no help I could offer that would persuade them to pick different.

Most of Hans's comrades did as Elsa commanded. Standing on the roof of a house with several of my fellow archers, I watched the remaining invaders file into a single, long formation. Overcome and beaten, they paraded out the castle gates, over the bridge, through the crisscrossing roads of the village, and up into the mountains. Because the Arendelle stronghold was situated in the middle of a fjord, I had been expecting a fraction of the men to also depart by sea. But I didn't think any of them owned vessels, and the ships docked at port weren't theirs for the taking.

I was taken aback by how many survivors there were, but then again, I didn't have much of a reason to be. Hans did have a thousand more troops than we did, and they had been stronger and fitter than us to start off with. It was a surprise we even managed to maintain our numbers and prevent them from declining in the first place.

It was long after the sun had fully risen by the time the last of Hans's warriors had departed.

"Goodbye forever," I said. My voice sounded detached. "You will never be missed."

I looked at the archers standing beside me and grinned. "We did it, guys."

They nodded and returned my grin. A few of them whooped, albeit somewhat unenthusiastically.

Frivolous with victory, I slid down the roof and hopped to the granite…before exhaustion swept over me like a tide. I had been so fuelled by adrenaline and caught up in the battle I hadn't realized how exhausted I was. I was bone-tired. But no matter how strong the urge was to collapse on the ground right there, I knew I couldn't give in to it, because if I did, I wouldn't be getting up for some time, and there were still things that needed to be done.

I was lumbering over the bridge on my way back to the courtyard when Whit's cry of Janine's name rattled me back to full attentiveness. I scuttled the remaining length of the bridge and shot past the gates. On my right, Whit crouched by his girlfriend next to the stone rampart. The look on his face was utterly devastating. I ran to crouch by Janine's other side.

Elsa was generating ice for Lucas, Ethan, and an adult at another area to help minimise the pain from their wounds, speaking to them what must be words of comfort.

I stared at Janine and bit my lip. "Is she…?"

"She's breathing," Whit told me, not taking his eyes off her.

I exhaled in relief.

I set to untying those juniper green, plant-like hawsers binding Janine's ankles. It wasn't easy, untying them. The knots were so tight they were bunched into balls. Thankfully my fingers were calloused due to countless times working with a bow, and my nails hadn't been trimmed short in a while, so I managed to dig my fingers under the ropes and undo the twists and tangles. As soon as the hawsers around Janine's ankles came loose, I moved to unravel the ones binding her wrists. My forehead was wrinkled in a scowl—what damage could they possibly hope to achieve by using hawsers?

Whit withdrew the concave circles of white light into his palms. "The curing's too slow," he said. He hung his head and then hovered a hand over Janine's right knee again. Her knee was so brutally sliced that the patella underneath was jutting out. I grimaced. An injury like that would require some time to mend.

I finished untying the knots. Whit was intensely focused on the healing process. He was squinting in determination, his face was strained, and his hand was trembling. I kept my eyes on Janine's knee.

It looked just like it was two minutes ago.

"Damn it. Come on!" Whit cursed in frustration.

"Whit, stop it. You're exhausting yourself," I said. "You're not in a good condition to—"

"I can do this!" He said through gritted teeth, and hovered his palm even closer to his girlfriend's knee.

I gripped his shoulder pressingly. "You can't heal others if you don't first heal yourself." I took off his helmet. My eyes roved over his body. "You look terrible."

He let his mojo fade and sighed. "Yeah." There was a big fat bruise on his calf, and the dark contusion on his elbow which I only noticed a short moment before was beginning to swell. By the way that he winced when he straightened his posture, I could tell there was also an injury to his back. Whit concentrated on each injury in turn and slowly, patiently cured them with magic, his silver energy illuminating the afflicted areas.

I said when he was done, "Take a few deep breaths and give yourself a minute to recharge."

He did, rolling his shoulders. Certain that he was ready, Whit went back to helping Janine. But rather than mending the damages one by one, he illuminated her whole body this time, enveloping her in his kind, gentle magic and his warmth. Tears glistened in his eyes. The extent to which he was concentrating broke my heart. I didn't think I would ever understand how much he loved Janine, or just how willing he was to do anything for her.

"Stay with me," Whit whispered.

I clasped his forearm to augment his magic. I instantly felt the power surge as my strength was added to his. Janine, please don't be dead, I prayed. The girl was so bold, plucky, and strong, I couldn't bear to lose a friend like her. Whit would be crushed if we lost Janine.

No. I mustn't flood my mind with these thoughts, not during this critical moment. I shook my head to clear it and willed it to concentrate on curing, mending, repairing.

Whit and I persisted in our effort, even when we saw signs of our progress beginning to show. Even as the purplish-green bruises on Janine's forehead, jaw, and chin disappeared. Even as new skin tissue grew and covered her sliced knee. Even as blood stopped trickling from the back of her skull. Whit and I didn't rejoice at these signs. We kept going. My brother once told me that the key to magically healing someone was to keep going until the person was completely recovered. And that's what we were doing: persisting.

Gradually, oh ever so gradually, Janine opened her eyes. They were green, like sage. At the sight of Whit, they lit up. Her lips parted in a sweet, pretty smile.

"Janine?" My brother whispered.

She crooned, "Hi, Whit."

Whit was virtually weeping with joy. "I knew you'd make it," he said, and crushed Janine's body to his in a fierce, loving embrace.

"We made it," Janine corrected, and smiled at me. "All of us." She turned to Whit. "How long was I out? Where are all the soldiers? Did you and Elsa make it to the dungeons to free the prisoners—"

Whit pressing a finger to her lips hushed her. "Not now, alright?" he said. "Not now."

He leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers, wrapping one arm around her waist and pushing the other into her wavy dark hair. Janine slung her arms around Whit's neck. Their kiss was needy and vehement, congratulating each other for surviving another war. There was victory behind that kiss.

I looked away to let them have their moment.

When Whit next spoke, it wasn't to me or Janine but the healers in our army. My brother wasn't the only healer in the City, there were many kids gifted with the ability, but Whit was by far the best one. He addressed the healers, magically improving his voice so that they could all hear him regardless of how far away they were or whether they could see him or not. He instructed them to heal themselves (if they hadn't done so already) and then search the realm for injured survivors and cure them too. There was some shuffling around in the courtyard as the healers who were here went about their responsibilities. No doubt those in the village were doing the same thing.

Whit healed my wounds and all the ones Elsa had taken; then, together with Janine, we walked around the realm to help our friends:

Byron, whose lower half of his legs from the knee below ended in a gruesome mess of bleeding flesh, punctured tissue, and bones. It took an eternity to repair and grow them back, and another long while to reconnect the legs with the feet. If it hadn't been for Janine, Elsa, and me helping him, Whit would've died from the effort.

Kristoff and Sven, who both had millions of red-hot sand particles underneath their armour, scorching their skin. Last I saw them they were thrashing in agony. Now they were too badly burnt to even move. It would've been better if they had passed out, but the intense heat of the sand forced them to stay awake. All Kristoff and Sven could do was lie there, suffering, below the gatehouse until somebody could come over and tend them. Whit had to strip them completely so he could erase their burns. Having no desire to see Kristoff naked, Elsa, Janine and I averted our eyes. If anybody else noticed, I assumed they were too weak or injured to make a comment.

Emmet, whose torso had been brutally torn by the rake of Hans's claws. Blood gushed from his nasty claw marks and lacerations. The pool of blood he lay in expanded with every passing minute. He had long passed out. He was so pale from haemorrhage that he was on the brink of death. Our timing had been crucial.

Ross, who had received such a powerful welt on the back he would've slept on forever had Whit not used magic to fully recover and arouse him.

Finally, we went to Anna. She was still trying to haul that spear out of her body, headstrong as she was. Hans's Champion had thrust it above her collarbone, and had enchanted it so thoroughly it required both Whit's and my powers to pull it out. And that was only after we'd spent quite a while figuring out how to negate the spell.

After Whit mended Anna's cracked collarbone, he stepped back to give Kristoff space.

"Still up for giving me that fist bump?" Kristoff said in a joking tone, raising his clenched fist.

Anna scrunched up her face so severely I thought it was funny. "The what?"

"Fist bump," Kristoff repeated, jogging her memory. "We promised we would congratulate each other with a fist bump if we both survive this battle. Well, we did. So how about that promise?"

Anna instantly sat up straight. "Oh! That. I remember now! I'm so, so sorry, Kristoff. I've been so angry with the Champion for wounding me like that and angrier with myself for letting him think he could beat me and even more angry that I didn't smash the guy to bits that the fist bump slipped my mind!" she babbled. She balled her hand into a fist and swung her arm enthusiastically. "Let's do it now, should we? I mean, shall we?" She held out her fist. "For making it out alive and in one piece!"

Kristoff scowled as though that left a sour taste in his mouth. "Uh, I think we could forgo that 'in one piece' bit. It's a bit of a mouthful."

"Oh." Anna slumped her shoulders, sounding deflated, but then cheered up again. "OK!" She held out her fist once more and said energetically, "For making it out alive!"

"For making it out alive." Winking, Kristoff bumped her fist with his own.

"Ow!" Anna cried on collision, shaking her arm.

Kristoff shrugged dismissively. "Oh, come on, it wasn't that hard."

"It was."

"Wasn't."

"Was!"

Kristoff lifted his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, have it your way, otherwise you'll never stop arguing."

"It still was," Anna said as she got to her feet.

Kristoff changed the subject. "A week from now, do you know what day it will be, Anna?"

All trace of defiance vanished from Anna's face as she gasped merrily. "Yes, I do! It'll be celebration day! For winning the battle! Oh Elsa," she turned to her sister, "I heard that speech you gave to Hans's soldiers. It was incredible! You were so influential and convincing, you were all like 'Step aside everyone, I am the queen!'"

Elsa couldn't help but giggle at Anna's bubbly praise. She opened her mouth to respond, but not before Anna added, "Oh, and I don't mean 'the queen,' I meant 'the Queen,' as in Queen with a capital Q."

Elsa inclined her head politely and said, "Thank you, Anna."

Kristoff pointed out, "But it won't just be a day of celebrating our victory, Anna. It's also something else."

The princess jumped a little in excitement. "Ooh, what is it?"

"You tell me. It's your special day after all."

"You're giving it away too much, Kristoff," Elsa said in an undertone.

"It's just a hint," he whispered back.

Anna paced back and forth, brows furrowed in deep thought. "My special day…" she mumbled. "My special, special day…Ooh!" Elation blossomed on her face as she looked up. "Will it be my birthday?"

Elsa and Kristoff exchanged a sidelong glance that said: See? Told you she'd figure it out.

"Oh my gosh, my birthday is almost here. It'll be my birthday!" Anna squealed. "I'm turning nineteen! Whooo-hoooooo!"

Elsa promised, "It's going to be the biggest, happiest, and most wonderful day we've ever had!"

Just then, Olaf appeared by Whit's side, tugged on his ear, and whispered, "She says the same line every year."

"Not those exact words," Elsa said, and Olaf's huge, oval eyes darted to her, startled that she was within hearing range. Fortunately, Elsa didn't sound angry, she sounded wry and playful. "In the past, whenever our birthdays arrived—mine or Anna's—our parents would bless us with gifts and well wishes and then we'd have a nice, lovely family gathering. Nothing more. This year, I'm throwing a party, we'll have an actual celebration, and I guarantee you, Anna, that it will be spectacular."

"Are you sure we have enough money to organize an event like that?" Anna asked.

Elsa chuckled. "Of course. I made sure to have Hans's comrades remove all money that's not theirs from their sacks and pockets before departing."

I said, "Whit and I cast an enchantment on the gatehouse so it will detect stolen properties. If any of the soldiers got hidden coins with them somewhere, when they pass under the gatehouse, we will know."

Whit picked up the explanation. "I will then demand that they hand them over. If they comply, we allow them to head on. If they refuse…"

"I kill them," Kristoff finished. "Mercifully, I've only had to kill eighteen."

Anna gaped in amazement, rigid as a statue.

Elsa smiled. "Don't worry, Anna. We've got it all handled." She rubbed her sister's back, and Anna relaxed.

"So," Elsa clapped her hands together and continued, "I was planning to invite guests from other realms to attend, but since we've already got witches and wizards from the City, they can be our guests."

I questioned, "And the people you planned to invite initially won't mind?"

"It won't be a big deal for them. I haven't had a chance to send out invitations."

I said aloud the part she left out. "Because of Hans."

"Because of Hans," Elsa repeated in agreement. Then, turning away, she resumed the topic on Anna's birthday. "I need to appoint somebody in charge of the whole thing."

Kristoff raised his hand. "I'll do it."

"Great!" Elsa said. "You and I can prepare the cake!"

"Terrific," Kristoff said, then frowned and scratched his head. "Now, I'm not sure about the present…"

"That's OK, Kristoff, you don't have to get me one," Anna interjected. "Not if you're already making the cake—"

"No, no, no, I'll think of something. I've just been preoccupied with the battle and the danger from Hans I haven't had time to—"

"No, really, Kristoff, it's OK," Anna repeated. "Just bake a cake for me. That would be the most sublime present I could wish for."

Kristoff gazed into her turquoise blue eyes. He consented, "Sure."

Elsa said, "Speaking of presents, I need to go to my bed chamber to check on something." And with that, she tiptoed away from the group before speeding into a scuttle.

"I reckon she has a surprise," Whit said, winking at Anna.

Too happy to reply, the princess bounced on the balls of her feet and squealed in delight. However, her excitement was quickly replaced with an expression of anxiety.

Sensing this, Kristoff asked, "Is something the matter?"

Anna stared at Elsa's back as she scuttled across the bridge toward the fortress. "Is it really a good idea to throw a party after a battle? I mean, after what we've been through, I want a party more than anything, of course, but…don't people need to rest? Don't you think they may not be in the mood for a party? It might be a bit sudden. Maybe we could just have a small gathering on the day of my birthday like before and then postpone the celebration to a later date…"

"Anna, you're fretting again," Kristoff said. "Your special day is a week away. That's plenty of time for us to recover and get ready. It's going to work out."

To further dispel any doubts, Kristoff leaned down to kiss her. Anna kissed him back. Sweetly, romantically.

Kristoff pulled back so they were nose-to-nose. He sighed longingly into her face. "I never expected a day would come when we'd be doing this again," he breathed, touching her arm and hugging the small of her back, armour and all.

"I never expected a day would come when I'd be in your arms again," Anna said in return.

Kristoff laughed and Anna's laughs joined in as well. Kristoff kissed her forehead, eyelids, nose, and cheeks, showering her with his faithful love. Each touch of his lips elicited an affectionate giggle from Anna.

I didn't realize I was transfixed by their romance until Whit tapped me on the back. "I'm going to go offer the healers some aid. They've got a lot of wounded magicians to tend to." Giving my shoulder a squeeze, he strolled off.

Kristoff swept Anna up in an embrace and twirled her round and round, and Anna yelped in exhilaration. He set her down with gentle grace and touched his lips to hers again. They seemed to forget about time and space as they kissed. It was as though the rest of the world revolved around only the two of them.

Suddenly I couldn't watch anymore. I pivoted and walked away. I was supposed to feel happy for Kristoff and Anna, for Whit and Janine. And I did. After entering the battle none of them knew they would greet another dawn, and now that they survived, they were cherishing every moment they get to spend with their soul mate, and seeing the couples on cloud nine in their reunion made me feel light with bliss too. But I couldn't shake this feeling of vacantness in my heart. A gaping hole where Pearce was supposed to be. I needed to talk to him. I yearned to be there for him. But that didn't seem to be what he wanted, otherwise he would've stayed with us instead of vanishing to God-knows-where. Usually when Pearce was around I could detect his aura of power, but right now I couldn't sense anything. I was unable to detect any trace of magic that belonged to him. No spark, no electrostatic crackle, nothing.

It was then that I realized that Whit and Pearce were the two people I was dearest to and who I cared about the most. However much his absence hurt, Pearce chose to leave us, and every minute I spend missing and aching for him was a waste, so I might as well stop thinking about it and tell myself to move on. I'd got Whit, hadn't I? As long as Whit was alive and by my side, who else did I need to pine for?

Byron was still outright unconscious despite Whit having fixed his smashed legs. It wouldn't do to try to carry him and inadvertently rouse him from his state of peace and calm, so I worked up a levitation spell to move him to one of the bed chambers within the castle (one that hadn't been vandalized during the battle), where he could rest properly. The room looked like it belonged to a lord. Apart from a few minor wrecks, it was as grand as ever. I magically pulled back the blanket with a swish of my arm, set Byron down on the mattress of the emperor size bed, and tucked him in. I didn't know why it was Byron I chose to look after—I could've done this to anyone. I guessed Byron was one of the best friends I'd ever had.

After the wizards completed their massive round of healing, Whit, me, and any magician well enough to assist cleared all the corpses away by magic. Using our powers, we melted their flesh, armour, and bones into substances resembling liquid metal and vaporized them into thin air. It was quicker and less troublesome than burying the bodies or disposing them in the sea. Whit and I did a casualty count as we got rid of the dead. There were just as many teenage casualties as there were adults, but to our great relief, the loss of Hans's warriors was slightly heavier than that of our army.

Glad to finally be able to rest, I trudged back into the castle with a herd of witches and wizards who were also extremely worn out, lurched into a random bed chamber, and collapsed onto the soft, fluffy sheets. Sleep struck me instantly.