spartandestroyr: I'm so glad you like Odd and that the fight scene was adequate. As for whether he'll die or not... Well, I can't make promises either way. Anything could happen at this stage. Oh, and don't worry, there's a few more chapters still. I think I'll do either one or two fight scenes and there will also be two epilogue scenes as well.

AnniGirl93: Ah, I don't know what I'll do with Odd! Well, I do, but Ai won't say anything and ruin the surprise! But it's good to know I did alright with the fighting (phew...)

Kathy22334 (guest): Oh, wow. Thank you so much!

KLime (Guest): Yup, 7,000 words! That was the longest chapter so far! Hehe, maybe it is a research project into... Strange dark magic and twisted / abusive fathers? And yay, so glad the chapter was good. I definitely put a lot of effort into it. And... wow. Never thought I'd hear my fanfiction being compared to a Shakespearean tragedy! Wow, that puts me in a good mood! I'm certainly glad I managed to pull it off—I may be able to do torture, but I'm not convinced on my fight-scene skills. So, yeah, thanks!

WildVirus (guest): Yep, Odd's been needing a chance to shine for a while now. And haha, frozen walking dead... Interesting xD meh, I'm not that keen on zombie apocalypses actually, they creep me out (yes, me!) but I might do some other frozen fic one day. Mind you, I'm actually thinking of writing an original fic at the minute (but I may not go through with it).


"What's taking them!" Anna hissed, struggling against her husband's lock on her and fighting to be free. She gazed towards the portal eagerly with steely, determined eyes. Kristoff looked down at her strawberry-blonde head with an even greader resolve.

"Stop struggling, Anna! They'll be fine!" Kristoff snarled, drawing his wife even closer to his body so that he almost squashed her lungs. "Elsa's not weak, and Odd's a hard-headed guy. He won't let her get hurt, don't worry yourself."

Anna stopped her struggling for a moment and Kristoff's grip slackened on her momentarily; as she tried to break free a second later, he immediately tightened it once again. She gave a groan at her husband's persistence and hung her head, though she continued to writhe. "But Elsa's got Cecilie! She can't protect herself, Odd and Cecilie all at the same time!"

"Eh, maybe not, but surely Odd'll make up where she fails, hmm? You forget that he's a decent fighter."

"But he hasn't got a knife!" Anna wailed, groaning. "He's not as strong as you are, Kristoff! He's only average strength!"

"Stop stressing yourself already, Fiestypants," Kristoff said, his tone firm. "Odd will-"

The remainder of Kristoff's sentence was cut off as the portal began to glow bright yellow once again, and through it the tattered cream dress of Elsa slowly began to emerge, followed by the sounds of a screaming baby and a few tiny, choked back sobs. It was an agonising ten seconds as she tried to creep through the portal to the other side, Cecilie held to her back by a (surely freezing) strap of ice, and in the woman's arms a man's body, the top half unclothed, lay limp. Anna, suddenly rooted in place, only let a squeak out of her mouth as she felt her husband's arms fall from her side, he himself rushing over to retrieve the poor Queen of her burden. As he did so, Elsa collapsed to the floor with a cry of agony, though Anna could tell instinctively that it was not caused by the wound which had bloodied the shirt around her wrist; indeed, as she finally recovered her senses upon seeing the pain and rushed over to retrieve her screaming niece and help her equally hurt sister, she knew that Odd wasn't just unconscious from fatigue, though she hadn't quite picked up on the extent of his condition yet.

She couldn't even bear to spare a glance and find out; but, as she continued to try to soothe her sister, she couldn't help looking over to his body.

The sight that met her eyes was horrific; through the panicking bustle of trolls—Grand Pabbie had been called to help out too—Anna could make out the bloodied mess of Odd's side, and more horrifyingly the gaping wound in his right, crudely frozen over to try and stop the blood flow.

His is skin was even paler than Elsa's, if it was at all possible.

Gasping, Anna returned her attention to her sister, whispering quietly, "Shush, shush. It'll be okay…" over and over. Elsa, however, did not hear her words, only rocking back and forth constantly in a distressed manner. Even as Anna tried to soothe her by handing her little baby Cecilie to comfort, she barely responded at all; it was as if she was in a trance.

Pabbie turned up a minute or two later, breathing heavily as if he'd come a long way. The trolls parted ways quickly for him, and he hurried to Odd's side, waving his hands over the body slowly.

"He has lost a lot of blood, and his pulse is weak. He may make it, he may not; but I will do my best to help him survive. He is a strong man, and he has a lot of love for you, all of you." Pabbie took a breath as he placed a hand first on Odd's massive stab wound, shuddering as he did so and wincing. "The best you can do is leave him here, and get on without him; if he is to have any chance of survival, there must be a positive atmosphere. Your fretting will not allow such a thing; perhaps the air is already to polluted with fear to let him recover."

Pabbie rolled away from Odd's side quickly as other trolls quickly took up his place, wrapping the wounds with leafy bandages.

"I shall set up a portal directly to your ship, but you must go now. It is time to fight." He turned to Kristoff now, nodding once and smiling proudly. "Do your family proud, my boy. And the rest of you, too; reclaim your kingdom, and settle this whole mess.

"That is my deal for you. I will do my best to help your prince, if you will do your best to save us from this tyranny."

Kristoff and Anna nodded blindly, while Elsa only looked up slowly, almost seeming to have not heard a word of what the troll said. After a few moments, though, she looked at the face of her poor husband, his lips a thin line of determination, and she stood on unsteady legs, wiping away the tears and passing her precious daughter to Bulda.

"Take care of her," she whispered, thinking of Odd's sacrifice for the pair of them. "Take care of our children."

"We will." Bulda replied, smiling as best as she could, just as a loud, deafening reindeer's bleat sounded from the forest. Sven thundered through the trees, tossing his head and bellowing a war cry; when he saw his family, however, he skidded to a stop, panting and gawking at them all. He remained that way for a minute, glancing between Lysse—who was now laying on the floor a little way off from the rest of the group—and Kristoff, before he galloped over to the former with a squeal, nuzzling behind the doe's ear quickly before immediately running to his human buddy, leaping at him—with no regard at all for the dangers of his massive chipped antlers—and landing on him heavily, knocking the man to the ground. He bleated happily, tossing his head and covering his face in reindeer slobber as he gave an excited little buck.

Kristoff, however, only smiled a little; Sven jumped backwards quickly, cocking his head at his human's lack of excitement. However, as he sniffed the air he suddenly twitched, his hoof raising quickly as he tossed his head in distress, then falling to the ground and covering his head with his legs. Moaning, he looked up to Kristoff with large, scared eyes, trying to dig the dirt up over his head and body as if he could hide.

That smell! It's… It's blood!

"Woah, boy. Easy." Kristoff said, reaching down and scratching behind the reindeer's ear, though his own hand was shaking slightly. Sven whined a little at his friend's own distress, though he did stand when told to do so. "It's okay, it's just Odd. He's… He's hurt, but he'll be better soon. I… Hope. Pabbie's gonna heal him." He stroked Sven's nose and then turned towards the newly formed portal, sighing as he stole a glance at his brother in law, wincing at the sight of his erratic breathing. "Come on, we'd… We'd better get going."

Bulda rolled over and took hold of her son's palm, rubbing it gently, coating it in a fine dust. Kristoff raised his hand, frowning at it.

"Lepidolite." The troll said, patting his dusted skin. "For luck."

Kristoff gave a watery smile before hopping up onto Sven's back, though he felt guilty at riding the somewhat frail creature. "Thanks, Ma." he said, before gripping onto the hair of Sven's neck, his harness long gone, and galloping through the portal. Anna stood slowly too, pulling Elsa up with her, and walked her through the portal too just as Lysse let out an agonised bellow of pain.

.

The fleet had no need to land at the docks of Arendelle; a massive pathway of rough ice, forged by Elsa's power, joined up every one of the attacking ships, leading to the mainland. Men poured from their boats in swarms, descending upon the walkway with their swords held high and shields in front, bellowing battle cries as they followed after massive beasts of snow which had sprung forth, their intimidating presence only amplified as they swung flails and maces around their bodies, their roars resounding throughout the entire Kingdom.

There was no point in being silent. The whole of Arendelle's army, supported by the military might of the Southern Isles' forces too, was waiting for them at the other end. But, in comparison to Victoria's massive fleet of one hundred ships—not quite the full scale of her navy, amazingly—the Norwegian and Danish defences looked feeble, amounting to about 45 and 20 respectively; Corona's contribution of ten battleships was absolutely puny. But, for now, violence was a waste; as the Queen of the people she would now be fighting, Elsa couldn't bear to attack without first giving them a chance. Besides, attacking would mean destroying the very kingdom she sought to save.

"My people," she said in a weak, unsteady voice, her words repeated by one of her four snow beasts, capable of shouting much louder than she. "I do not wish to fight you, but this tyranny must come to a close now. Step down, and there shall be no bloodshed; I long for peace just as much as you do, but that will not happen with the current situation."

For a moment, the people fell silent at the words, as if contemplating the option; Elsa's heart, aching for her husband and children, lifted a little at the people's willingness. But it did not last, and she had been a fool to think it would; the Norwegian and Danish soldiers cried as they raised their own swords high in the air once again, and the German and British followed suit, charging on horseback or otherwise on foot towards the enemy.

"Come on, sis." Anna said quietly, he voice shaky too. She laced her fingers into her sister's hand and shivered at the familiar feeling of the ice flowing through her veins. "We've gotta get down there; this is our battle as much as theirs."

"Yeah," Elsa murmured, climbing up onto High Flyer's back and pulling on the reins a little jerkily to liven him up. "Follow me; we'll have to attack from the side if we're to have any chance of not being slaughtered."

Anna's eyes widened at the statement as she mounted her own mare, patting her side. It was a shocking thing to hear. Meanwhile Kristoff stepped forwards on Sven, grinning with a rebellious, devilish excitement. His wife glared at him for his foolishness, but he only laughed.

"Oh, shut up. It's every man's dream to defend his country in battle!" Cloaked in full armour, he clinked as he spoke. Drawing his sword out with a dramatic swish, he held it up above his head as he gripped Sven's fur with his free hand, the sea wind blowing through his hair. The dim light almost made him look like a shadowy nightmare. "You two go; Sven and me'll run on ahead, distract 'em."

"Sven and I, Kristoff," Anna murmured, but her teasing tone hardly lightened her's or her sister's hearts. Seeing him chuckle, she then realised with shocking clarity what he was going to do; she opened her mouth to shout out to him but he was gone already, thundering across the track and straight into an oncoming surge of soldiers, fighting valiantly, his massive sword, made from the finest German metal and coated with diamond imported all the way from Romanov Russia, slashing through the masses, bringing a few men down—Kristoff wasn't a killer, not really—and pushed the rest backwards. Sven snorted and tossed his head all the while, spinning around and bucking at men foolish enough to get close to his powerful hindquarters. Though weakened from neglect, he was still a powerful foe.

"Quick, Anna!" Elsa whispered, standing at the side of the ship, one hand open and ready to cast. She, too, was clothed in a full set of iron armour, as was her sister, the only difference being the icy crown which rested atop her head, slightly larger and more intricately decorated than the beautiful tiara which sat atop Anna's. Both bore the crest of Arendelle boldly; they were its rulers, after all.

The horses, similarly cladded in chain mail and iron, reared up quickly as their owners pushed them on, then tearing across the rough icy path that the elder woman had created. Both mare and gelding ran at top speed, slowed only slightly by their armour, their hearts pounding as they raced. They were headed home; it was a brilliant motivation.

"Ready, Anna?" Elsa yelled as she drew out her sword, holding it high above. As Kristoff's was, it was coated with diamond and was a lethal creation; Rapunzel had gone all out on supplying both her people, and especially her family, with the best she could afford. It had taken much bartering and a lot of rooting around in the old stores to make it all up, but in the end she'd managed to raise a small but fairly mighty force.

"No!" Anna cried back, her eyes wide as she drew her own sword too with a little less grace than her sister, but she held it high in her shaking hands. Though she was absolutely terrified—not to say her sister was any less scared—a spark of determination shone amidst the blue, the slight glinting off of her blade. "But we've got no choice anyway, so let's get on with it!"

Elsa beamed proudly as she watched her sister tear on ahead across the path before she pushed High Flyer on to catch up, her spurs squeezing his side gently. She held his head high as they galloped and he let out a great, excited whinny; a second later, as the soldiers on the mainland noted their presence, he skidded to a stop, rearing, terrified, as did Misty. It took all of the royals' strength to stay atop their mounts' backs, but they did not panic; to do so would only rile the horses up more.

"Come on, Anna!" Elsa shouted over the thunderous noise of the approaching soldiers, fighters for Arendelle and the Southern Isles working in collaboration. "We've got to do this!"

Summoning a wall of ice up behind her and the horses so that they could not run away, Elsa pointed her sword forwards and gave High Flyer a sharp kick with the spurs, feeling guilty for the sharp pain it would cause but knowing there was no choice. She felt him lurch into a gallop, and could see the terror burning in his eyes; as Anna did the same, her job easier and Misty rushed to keep up, not wanting to be alone, Elsa patted his shoulder gently and whispered, "Good boy", feeling his tight muscles loosen a little at the reassurance and at his rider's confidence. He was a good horse.

Pushing her gelding to keep going as the soldiers drew nearer, Elsa stood in her stirrups slightly as High Flyer leapt onto solid ground from the ice, galloping flat out as he did so. Already sweat was beginning to bead around the base of his neck, despite the training he'd had in Corona, and Misty seemed in a similar situation. Both women could only hope their horses would have enough strength and stamina to pull the mission off.

The mob rushed forwards, screaming and shouting, but few were on horseback; they were a collection of foot soldiers, with the odd rider in their midst. All brandished swords and yelled as they rushed forwards; their attack was quickly halted as the ground beneath them became frozen and they all were sent sliding back.

"We don't want to fight you!" Elsa yelled in Norwegian, hoping some of the Danish would understand too. "We want peace, we really do, but if you will fight us then we shall have no choice but to retaliate!"

The soldiers were persistent as they struggled to climb the sloping wall of ice, barely a meter high but ever so slippery. They snarled and shouted as they tried to heave their bodies up over the top, some resorting to blunting their swords by digging them into the ice as a pickaxe.

As a few men began to make their way over, a few brave soldiers surrounding the two royals on horseback, Anna tried once again to reason with them. Killing one's own people was harsh, and was hardly a sure-fire way of getting support.

"You don't understand! Sir Svindel's using Pri—Queen Eva to get what he wants! He's working alongside Prince Hans and Princess Ayla! He's a madman, he always was coldhearted. He never thought about the innocent much, even when he worked for my sister and me—he'll just kill you all for sure!"

One soldier, a young man Anna recognised from the village—the now-grown boy who had once, years ago, called little Mia a freak—paused, his sword lowering a little as his tense body became a little less frozen; a second later, he let out a blood curdling scream as a slash of metal sent his hand flying from his body.

He howled in pain as the sword fell too with a clatter to the ground and then dropped to his knees, his blood staining the grass below him. As the older man behind him hissed, "You traitor!", he turned his gaze up to Elsa, tears shining in his eyes. And, horrified by the agonised look on his face—and the pond of blood below him—she took pity, thinking of her poor husband, tightly wrapping the gushing stump with a bandage of ice so tightly that she was amazed it didn't make that section of arm fall off too. He screamed as she did so, but it was for a good cause; he fainted soon after, the icy bandage reddened but not so badly as it was.

"How dare you!" Anna hissed, spinning Misty to face the man as more scrambled over Elsa's icy slope, all looking down at the fallen young man and faltering, before they returned their attention to the queen and princess, brandishing their weapons. Anna barely flinched. "How dare you hurt your own comrade!" Her eyes, previously fearful, now shone with pure malice as she pushed Misty forwards, her blade slashing at the older man's chest fiercely, missing twice as he dodged with skill; but as he leapt away from her for the third time, he misjudged his jump, landing right behind High Flyer and clipping his flank with his blade, not enough to draw blood but plenty to terrify the creature. He bellowed as he bucked, his hooves smashing against the man's chest and sending him hurtling into a rock, smashing his head in.

He didn't move.

The soldiers watching quietly recoiled slightly before realising that more men were still coming; well aware of the fate that would befall them if they were traitors, they ran forwards, a mob of men with swords so sharp. Perhaps not as deadly as the royals', but certainly covering a much greater area.

"For Arendelle!" One young man cried as he rushed forwards, his sword pointed directly at Misty until he stopped dead, quite literally as a blade of ice impaled his stomach. Anna yelped as she realised it had come about as a result of her own magic, but there was nothing to be done as yet more men came forwards.

Elsa slashed her sword through the air as she turned High Flyer on a point, sending him galloping around the outskirts of the soldiers; her left hand, previously holding the reins, released itself too and she opened her palm at the men, shards of ice, deadly sharp, materialising in the air. They hovered for a minute before Elsa waved her hand, creating a wind strong enough to propel them forwards, the projectiles striking her attackers. Some recoiled; others carried on and were struck by the blades, making them howl in pain as they thawed. Men fell to the ground, their own life blood gushing to the floor, but Elsa had no time to help them as she rushed on, her sword still slashing, tears staining her eyes. Somewhere in the distance, the first canon sounded.

Anna, too, took advantage of her position on horseback, sending great waves of hail at her own attackers, knocking them back a little as she tried to land a blow with her sword, unable to fatally harm anyone but causing fairly serious wounds which, at least, succeeded in sending some of her foes to the ground.

But still more men came; in minutes, there were at least fifty, all eager to win, all believing they were serving their kingdom. They threw stones and sliced through the air with their swords, one man close enough to strike a blow on High Flyer's underbelly, having aimed for the queen.

That earned him in a hoof in the face.

But, as the battle raged on, it became quite clear that the royals could not win as they were; there were simply too many men to take on without backup.

Elsa screamed as an arrow, fired from somewhere up above, struck her wrist, impaling itself fairly deeply. With a sudden primal need to survive, she felt herself grow ever more dangerous as she slashed ever more at her attackers, cutting them down momentarily with no remorse. And then, a second later, she realised what she had done and screamed louder, her mind in turmoil as the ground below her began to freeze…

And then she knew what she had to do.

Raising her wounded arm, she moaned as she began to summon her powers, the action making her wrist burn even more, but she pushed through, letting out a yell as a great ball of snow and ice materialised above the scene, crashing down to the ground and exploding all over the fighters, burying them, leaving only a few lucky stragglers on the outskirts behind. Snarling, she raised her hand once again, blood pounding in her ears, and screamed as she sent a few last daggers of ice their way, it being enough to knock them far enough back for escape.

"Come on, Anna!" she cried, galloping away from the scene and, horrifyingly, towards the main battle; but at least there there would be support. "Quickly!"

Anna glanced at the devastation before her before she nodded, galloping around the edge as she rushed after her older sister, her bloodied sword in hand. And, once the two were out of the sight, the snow was thawed away, revealing the freezing and wounded—but, for the most part, alive—soldiers who had been buried underneath.


Rapunzel whimpered a little as she put on a brave face, her sabre, emblazoned with the crest of Corona, held tightly in her left hand, the reins in her right. She tried to sit tight despite the heavy weight of the cold armour as her mount, upon whose armour a spear was cohered out in front to ward off attackers, galloped forwards, ever so brave as she placed all of her faith in her rider.

Perhaps she was too trusting; who could guarantee she'd survive?

"You okay there, Blondie?" Eugene's voice called out to her as he rode past, his sword slashing at the skittish mount of an approaching Danish soldier, sending the horse to its knees and its rider to the ground. The man rose his sword by means of protecting himself, but to no avail; Max's hooves stomped down upon him just below, completely crushing his armour and internal organs, making blood bubble up in his mouth. Eugene then swiped his sword again as a group of foot soldiers advanced, more than a match for him alone—though it hurt him to admit it. "Hey! Could use a hand here, Punzel!"

He gritted his teeth as an arrow ripped through the chain mail of his armour and scratched his skin, drawing blood; in response, he yelled and swiped the sword again, striking an Arrendellian axeman whose weapon had been raised to strike, his own blade making a great gash through his arm and sending him stumbling backwards, his weapon falling as his arm fell to his side, limp, as blood flowed out. The man screamed in horror as the limb flopped uselessly, crying, "My arm won't work!" while Rapunzel gave a short gasp, looking to her husband accusingly before she realised that she was under attack herself and yelped, watching a dagger flying towards her just as yet another round of canon balls was fired, shooting towards the mainland and smashing everything they hit to pieces; there was no care taken to ensure only the enemy was hit. It was a tactic of attrition.

"Queen!"

A mounted soldier, one of Corona's noblemen, cantered forward, his lance smashing into the side of an attacking footman as the woman ducked, the dagger flying over her head and just clipping her ear.

"My Queen, you must concentrate!" the nobleman yelled, spinning his horse around so that his lance took out four men in one go as a canon ball flew overhead, smashing into a house in the village and almost immediately letting it set alight. He then galloped forwards, the spear point impaling the chest of a Danish man's horse, but not without his own mount's foreleg getting slashed, the great beast keeling under the weight. The rider rolled off, groaning as he rolled a little way, struggling to stand but to no avail, his armour too heavy; his eyes widened as a mob of men came to him, shouting as one aimed a bow right at his head, ready to fire…

And then, all in one go, they were mowed down by a hefty man atop a reindeer, brandishing a sword of crimson and wearing a bitter grimace upon his face as he nodded once to the noble before cantering off, followed by an onslaught of attacking cavalrymen and footmen.

Rapunzel watched quietly, suddenly screaming as she felt the very slight pain and shock of a sword hitting the steel of her armour; spinning around, she saw a young man hissing at her, his arm raised to strike again… And she attacked, her blade smashing into his side, catching him just below the armour covering his chest and signing his death warrant there and then, his lifeblood leaking in a waterfall from the massive wound.

Rapunzel froze for a minute, her mouth opening into a small 'o' shape until she saw her husband a few metres off, surrounded on all sides by foot soldiers and incapable of quite taking them all on. And, her blood suddenly boiling, she gritted her teeth and raised her sword again, her eyes blazing.

She was the Queen of Corona and she would not go down in history as a weak monarch. No—she would, from this day forth, be known as a powerful warrior Queen, to be depicted in paintings with sword in hand and short brown hair blowing in the wind, her golden crown sat atop her head in its rightful, earned place. And, with a shout of, "For Arendelle!" she thundered forwards, her blade taking down men with no force needed whatsoever.


The woman stood quietly at the edge of the field, her lips drawn in a thin line. At present, the situation gave no clues as to whether or not the gamble would be a success, but Victoria had no fears; her armies were strong and, if it had to be done, she would have all of this kingdom bombarded with canon balls. But she would not fail, of that fact she was almost certain.

Not too far away, Victoria's eyes landed upon one of her most valued and trusted nobles, under siege by soldiers of Arendelle, all brandishing their weapons like madmen. They weren't as trained as her own troops, but that was fine; once she secured an alliance with the kingdom, she would help it—and Corona, too, for she was determined to get their support too—improve its military. In the meantime, it made them all the easier to beat.

Climbing up onto her beautiful mare, Rosa, the queen sat perfectly regally as she rode out on sidesaddle, her own sword held high, smiling as she galloped to help out her falling comrade. There was, to be sure, a reason she was so respected and feared; she was truly a force to be reckoned with, something which the attacking men could vouch for if only they'd had the strength left to stand once she'd passed by.

It would be a long afternoon for them, no doubt about it.


The moon gleamed brightly in the night, shrouding the land not in pitch blackness but rather in varying shades of dark grey, lending just enough light to allow poor vision. Such was enough for the young girl who walked down to the village slowly, her curiosity fuelled by a need to support her family in this fighting. She had some degree of talent, so she should lend it to her mother and father and aunt if she could.

Pushing her horse forwards, having had no other option of transport, poor Lysse being out of action after all she'd been through, Mia's mind began to wander slightly as she pondered why the creature had been out and about around the trolls' valley. Perhaps he had belonged to one of the men who had attacked them earlier that day. Still, it was a fairly long distance; but perhaps not, considering it had been at least six or seven hours between her family having been attacked and the stallion turning up.

"C'mon, boy," Mia whispered, patting the horse's shoulder gently with absolute confidence; something about this black, thoroughbred-ish stallion put her at ease, though she couldn't place what it was that made her feel so calm with him. "We need to get going and-"

Mia trailed off as a peculiar feeling enveloped her senses and then, suddenly, she was jerked from the stallion's back, hovering in mid-air as she glowed faintly. The horse whinnied and bucked, shouting at the child as if telling her to follow him, but then he ran off into the distance, galloping down to the town and leaving her alone.

She could not move. She could not scream. She could only watch as a woman, tall and slender with eyes of glaucous-blue and hair of golden blonde, stepped forwards, her hand glowing a bright shade of red.

"Hello, Mia, darling," she said, a grin on her face as she walked closer, a small blonde-haired boy trailing behind her, scuffing his feet. The young princess gasped as she saw him approach; he could only steal a tiny, guilty peak before looking away again. "You know my son, Seth, don't you?"

Mia could only blubber a little in response, tears forming in her eyes. She had trusted Seth; he had been her best friend. But she hadn't known he was the prince. She'd only known that he was under Hans' and Ayla's control.

And it hurt that he never explained it to her fully.

"No comment? Well, that's fine. It won't interfere with the fact that your family has invaded the kingdom; now, I am going to have to get rid of them. You understand, I am sure."

Mia tried to scream once again as her whole body suddenly bursted with a red light, like a candle in the darkness, until the glow disappeared immediately as a sort of membrane began to form around her body, seemingly unbreakable and, oddly, intoxicating; she felt her worries and fears leave her as her mind began to dull a little, her lips parting as her eyes closed, her heart continuing to beat even as a thin, threadlike aura of ice-blue began to flow from her mouth.

All the while, Ayla watched with a smile, her eyes glinting as she looked down at the ships of Britain and Corona. It would do no good to burn them, for she'd kill herself before she could destroy them all and to target one or two would only spark extra ferocity from the fighters.

In short, a complete waste of time and energy.

"A-Ayla-?" Seth's voice was tiny and timid as he looked up to the large, Mia-sized orb which now hovered in the sky, a large area surrounding it appearing to ripple as if something invisible was to be found there. "Will she..."

"She'll be fine, Seth." Ayla snapped, somewhat out of breath as she made a swirling motion with her hands, the rippling matter beginning to solidify. But it wouldn't be finished for a good while yet; it would take a lot of magic energy before it was distinguishable. "I need her alive and strong and well for what I have planned for her."

Seth looked up to his poor, trapped friend and then looked out to the ships in the distance, a tear trickling down his cheek as his camouflage overcame him. Hurt that Ayla didn't even mention his disappearance, he then began to walk back to town before faltering, looking out to the ships once again.

And then he teleported down to the beach, then onto each individual ship deck after memorising an image of the section where he'd be appearing.

He couldn't let Ayla and Hans hurt anyone else. They had to be stopped, but he could not do that alone.

He could only hope the royals would forgive him for his heritage and trust his words.


Oh, bit of a strange ending there! Ayla's gotten a bit more serious since her... Pre-battle fun last chapter, shall we say?

Anyway, please review—again I put a lot of work into this chapter, and next one too, so please support me!

-Luna