Denmark
Fredericksberg Palace, Outside Copenhagen
05 December 1846

"No, no, no not like that!" Melody exclaimed, and the music came to a fizzling stop. "You're completely missing the rhythm and you've stepped twice on my toes! Hans backed away from his niece sheepishly. His reflection in one of the mirrors lining the walls actually resembled the man he used to be now, and not the wastrel drunkard who had been fetched by Eric weeks ago.

"In my defense, it's been three years since I actually danced." His attempt at an excuse only elicited a frown in response.

"And dancing is like riding a bike, Uncle Hans, if I can go from having a fish tail and back to legs and still be able to do it, you can at least keep from stepping on some poor girl's toes!" Melody suddenly covered her eyes in embarrassment from the outburst, and after a long moment she started to laugh. "You know, I told father I'd make sure you were ready for this … but honestly at this point I think I'm more afraid of what my friends will think. You are supposed to be the cool uncle."

"Is that so?" Hans laughed. At least he finally knew why he'd been invited to the ball at all. While Eric had opened up his home and all the palace grounds to him, Hans had still been somewhat restricted socially. Part of it was due to Hans' technical status as an exile, and part of it was he knew Eric's own reservations that Hans could behave himself. Maybe his good behavior had earned him a little more a reprieve.

"Yes. All of the others are just brutes like Uncle Frederik and Uncle Caleb or uninteresting like Uncle Oscar or too old like the rest." Melody laughed. "And then there was my Uncle Hans who learned how to lead cavalry with the Prussians and tried to take over a kingdom all by himself…"

"So you do know what happened." Hans looked at her, unsurprised.

"Of course I do." She sighed. "I have ears, after all, and just about everyone knows what you did anyway. In fact, I think my friend Josefina has a crush on you because of it, but she's a bit weird. You'll meet her at the ball so judge for yourself."

"Melody," Hans spoke quietly, "I don't think this is an appropriate time or place to have this conversation." Nearby the musicians attempted to hide their listening with half-measured tuning and a few soprano practice notes.

"Well I haven't really had any time alone with you before today! Father hasn't allowed it. You know how protective they get!" Melody retorted. Her face turned a little flush, and her voice was not hiding how upset she was. "I wanted to hear it directly from you because despite what everyone was whispering I knew that wasn't the Uncle Hans I knew. I know what it's like to be around magic. It can make people do things they wouldn't normally do!"

It took Hans a moment to realize this was the first time anyone in his family had actually expressed some matter of faith in him. He was the runt, the lesser, the butt of the jokes. Even Eric, for all he was doing for him, saw him as something that had been broken long ago and was now a project to be fixed. Melody was the first member of his family to actually believe in him. It hurt him to say the next words as he looked his niece in the eyes.

"Melody. I did those things, and it was my decision and my decision alone." He admitted. "I'm honored by your trust in me, but I have to take responsibility for my actions." One of the musicians, engrossed in his eavesdropping, dropped his horn onto the ground. Hans glared over at the group and they reeled back in fear, but Melody's eyes did not move from her uncle.

"Thank you for at least being honest with me." She said to him coldly. "I'm sure you want to get to riding or something, so we'll just do one last run through." She looked at the musicians. "Once more of the waltz, please." She commanded with practiced grace, and the practice resumed.

There was none of the idle conversation or playfulness between uncle and niece this time, and Hans was unable to even look at Melody as they moved in three quartered time. Even the band sounded off, and that wasn't just because of the rather large dent in the one musician's horn. Melody was absorbed in her own thoughts, but she noticed something very off moments into the waltz. Hans was leading now, and his movements were perfect. There was none of the awkward, out of rhythm stepping from earlier and his movements were smooth and reflected a practiced elegance. The music stopped, and the two stepped away from one another. Hans gathered his things without saying anything as Melody watched him.

"Were you faking it the entire time?" She asked. Hans looked back at her, but she could tell his mind was somewhere else.

"Maybe?" Hans said as he shrugged and looked at his niece with a frown. Bidding his farewells, he made his way out of the room and out he went to find some clothes better suited for riding. He then went down to the stables, picked out a horse, and took off into the morning.

Despite the earlier morning's events, despite the rain, despite the winds, and despite everything Hans was relieved. With a gentle kick he urged his horse to run faster, cutting across an empty plot of farm land before leaping over an old stone fence. He passed through another field and then cut under a low orchard before exiting onto another muddied road.

He had always been good at riding, no, Hans had always been a great rider. He'd been the best in his class while at Berlin. It was probably the one thing he actually truly excelled at. It was also one of the few things Hans found truly relaxing. Even the old Prussian Junker who oversaw their schooling was forced to admit his proficiency despite Hans' otherwise "pervasive mediocrity." Hans wanted to be the proud Cuirassier, the dashing Hussar, or even one of the legendary knights of old leading a grand cavalry charge at that pivotal, deciding moment of the battle. Instead he'd been laughed at by his father and brothers, except for the absent Eric, when he returned home dressed in the finery of a Prussian Hussar complete with the famous Totenkopf livery.

Despite the embarrassment, riding still cleared his mind better than anything else. It allowed him to just forget about everything going on and focus on all that mattered. It was his grip, the horse, and the path he chose. To Hans, riding was the only time he had ever felt in control of his own destiny. That's probably why his father had explicitly banned him from riding during his exile.

The horse he rode was a young Lipizzan named Maria: one of the mares his father had purchased for God knows whatever scheme he had now. Her gray coat was covered in mud and she was breathing hard, but she had also responded to all his commands perfectly and she moved with an athletic grace which had caught Hans off guard at first. He made a mental note to see his compliments to whoever trained the mare before stopping her with a gentle tug as they came to an overlook of Køge Bugt. It was an ugly thing in this weather, but Hans just sat and watched for any passing ships in the distance as Maria rested.

It can make people do things they wouldn't normally do! Melody's words had been a whisper lying in the back of his mind like a suggestion that just wouldn't go away. Hans knew Melody wasn't lying about her knowledge of magic. The story of how Eric met Ariel was an open secret within the family, and Melody, Hans recalled, had experienced her own set of troubles when she had been a little girl. It was actually why he hadn't been as thrown off balance as some of the others when Elsa threw her little temper tantrum three years ago.

"No." Hans told himself, and Maria perked her ears up as he spoke. He patted the mare as a reassurance before rubbing a palm into his forehead. Three years of alcohol clouded memories were wafting around in his mind, and he gave a quiet command in German to the mare. He wasn't going to let these ideas just flood into his mind.

"I made those choices. I did what I did. The opportunity was there and I wanted to take it." Hans repeated to himself over and over again as the Mare trotted back to the Fredericksberg Palace. He ran what memories he still had of Arendelle back through his head, but for some reason it hurt more than usual to try to remember that time. And the memories were just so scattered and fragmented: it was like looking into a mirror shattered into dozens of pieces and a few critical shards were missing.

Was that why Alex came to visit me? Hans wondered. He'd met Alex during his time at the Academy in Prussia, and he remembered how he'd had some very … strange … reading interests at the time. Did he know more about what happened? Some friend Alex was if that was true.

He picked up Maria's trot a little now, hoping some speed would clear out his mind. The rain was picking up now and grew a little harder to see and Hans raised an arm to protect his vision. Horse and rider darted through a few fields before closing in on the nearby roads, and he cut across a few fences despite the worsening conditions. The Mare handled it all spectacularly.

That was until, turning onto the main road Hans suddenly saw a pale woman with bright yellow eyes and black hair in the center of the road. Spooked by her sudden appearance, Maria reared up on her hind legs and the wet mud slipped underneath the horse. Hans fell backwards and lost his wind as he landed on the square of his back. His head whipped back, and there was a wet slapping sound as it impacted against the mud.

London
Belgravia

Elsa sat back from her reading and yawned. She'd been struggling her way through what was apparently Sir Isaac Newton's Principia Magia. It was a parallel work to his more famous Principia Mathematica, and within it Newton explained how magic worked as a series of "parallel mechanics," that had been Alex's term not Newton's, to the Laws of Physical reality. Alex likened the nature of physical and magic to the Earth and Moon. Both were distinct and separate bodies, but they could influence one another. To say the reading was a particularly dense read would be a bit too gentle.

It was raining heavily outside, and Elsa looked across the room to see Alex and Facilier playing a round of chess as they discussed various ledgers and documents they had gathered around them. Most of the conversation was in quiet voices low enough Elsa struggled to pick up anything of interest. While Alex appeared to be living up to his promises of not lying to her, Elsa knew there was still a great deal kept hidden behind locked doors and quiet conversations.

Her first week in London had been pleasant, however. Elsa had gotten a little frustrated early on with some of the readings Alex had given her. Magic was something second nature to her, something she had been able to use since before she could walk or talk, and yet she was being made to read books written by people who had never seen magic in their lives before and they were quoting a quotation of a fragment written well before anyone could remember. It felt more like she was re-learning arithmetic and geometry than she was learning about magic. Instead of witch's brews and magical incantations she was learning about first principles and geometric axioms. Fortunately for Elsa, studying had been the closest thing she had to an escape in the years after the incident with Anna, so she could endure a little dry reading.

Alex had been a great help as well, when he wasn't coming off like a schoolmaster anyway. He'd provided all of his notes which were exceptionally detailed and well organized, much in the same well Elsa did hers, and he patiently answered all of her questions when he was available. It was also Alex who had coaxed Elsa away from her readings on a few occasions to walk the nearby Hyde park when the weather cooperated. He would give his "Peripatetic teachings" as they strolled, and Alex would also take time to ensure all of her needs were met and she was enjoying her time. The staff had grown used to her quickly as well, and even the poor girls who had been so frightened on the first day, Ginny and Mary, now greeted her with genuine smiles. Mary had gotten as far as actually touching Bruni despite her concerns.

What interested Elsa most was that all of her readings generally agreed humans could not wield "true" or "natural" magic. Those powers were given by God only to the spirits after creation, and apparently the intention was for spirits to be able to "enhance" creation. It was something separate from the powers of creation, physics really, that had shaped the world. Something closer to the fine detail tools of a sculptor versus the hands. Magic was something that could allow a wielder to adjust things from their intended natures. Newton directly compared it to the outside force of his First Law of Motion that could change the state of objects at rest, the fundamental mechanics of reality, and objects in motion which constituted everything else. Magic could bend things, but they would eventually return to their preferred state.

Sorcery was the only way humans could utilize magic: at least in everything Elsa had read so far. In fact, the vast majority of her readings had been focused on the how-tos of sorcery and compelling spirits to do as the sorcerer wished than in depth discussions on magic. With various binds, seals, wards, and markers the writers believed they could make any spirit, demons in most of the readings, do as the wielder wished. Except for Lily of the Gardens, who Elsa quickly recognized under about a dozen different names, and for Ahtohallan which to Elsa's surprise had not yet been mentioned in any of her readings.

There was something consistent between magic and sorcery, however, and it was something Elsa still didn't quite understand even with all of her readings. Magic could bend the rules of the world, but everything would return to normal in time. Creation wanted to remain in balance, but there was also a cost. What this cost meant was never properly explained and only spoken of in the vaguest of terms. Newton compared it to his third law where every action has an equal and opposite reaction, but for magic every action had an equal and opposite cost.

"Alex, what exactly is meant by cost?" Elsa spoke up, and her host looked up from the chess match as Facilier took his rook. "I understand Newton well enough, but I am struggling with the connection. Newton's equal reaction applies at the same time and in direct opposition, but this cost concept seems to be at random."

"Jean-Pierre," Alex said as he moved his knight to take Facilier's bishop. "What was that phrase you mentioned to me from your faith?"

"That you can get what you want but lose what you've got?" Facilier asked as he pondered his next move. "That's just something we were taught when I was a boy, but I was also taught you could just as well bribe the spirits so they don't come looking to collect."

"Some have gone as far as to offer their souls in order to get their desires, Elsa. It's like a debtor, and once you go far enough you effectively become an agent for The Fallen." Alex elaborated. "But beyond that, it's one of those things that gets very abstract and I don't have an answer for you."

"But didn't you say spirits couldn't go near cities or at least had their powers greatly diminished? How could they 'collect' on these debts?" Elsa asked. She was thinking about her own life experiences. You get what you want but lose what you got. Those words echoed across her mind.

"There's a theory a spirit can enter into places they normally couldn't when invited or summoned." Alex explained. "In fact, I'd wager that's why so many of these books were prescribed, why religion preaches so hard against sorcery, and why there were so many witch hunts back in the day. After all, the Fallen want to bring humanity down, and an unwise sorcerer or uncontrolled magic can bring down a civilization. Nevermind the threat to power a sorcerer poses to any kind of rulers."

Elsa remembered the memory of her grandfather echoing those similar sentiments.

"But that's not what magic does. You can't punish the whole for the actions of a few." Elsa countered as she rose to her feet. "That's just fear."

"Fear exists for a reason, Elsa." Alex replied. "Magic, like any other sort of power, is incredibly dangerous if not tempered with discipline and virtue."

"Like reading all of these books?" Elsa said, lifting up one of the tomes and dropping it back onto the pile. The connection to Runeard made her more upset than she realized.

"Exactly. It's how I learned to control mine." Alex replied while glancing down and moving a piece on the chessboard. "But I'm not going to suggest it was the right answer either, Elsa. Magic isn't an exact science. Besides, that's all related to dealing with spirits anyway, it has nothing to do with us. I don't know if cost applies to our powers or not."

"But Alex, aren't we spirits?" Elsa pressed. "Humans can't wield magic, right? I'm supposed to be the Fifth Spirit of Ahtohallan." Across the room, Alex sat back as Facilier called out "check."

"Could you elaborate, if you don't mind?"

"Well, I don't wholly understand it all and I was hoping to try and figure it out when all of this started, Alex. Ahtohallan had five spirits: air, water, earth, and fire. You've met the fire spirit too, which makes me wonder how he arrived if Britain has those wards you mentioned." Elsa paused as she realized she had gotten off topic. "And then there was a fifth spirit which was supposed to keep the others in balance and act as a bridge between humanity and nature. I'm that fifth spirit."

"And who told you this?" Alex gently tapped over his king and rose from his seat to fix a drink.

"Well, no one did. The voice of Ahtohallan, I guess?" Elsa said as she glanced down in partial embarrassment. "It was just sort of a feeling within me. That feeling you get when you know something is right and true. But I knew it deep down. It just felt right."

"Wasn't that same voice you mentioned Lilly's?" Alex pointed out, and Elsa's heart sank. It had been, hadn't it. Or was Lily just mimicking Ahtohallan's? She didn't know for sure, and a long silence fell over the library until it was broken by a new sound: one of laughter. Alex was laughing at her.

"You aren't a spirit, Elsa." Alex said flatly. "Lilly must have planted the idea in your head based on something that was already in your mind. It would have been like a simple suggestion, but something that would just click. It's a fairly easy thing for a spirit to do."

"But didn't you recognize me as Elsa of Ahtohallan when we first spoke?" Elsa replied. She felt a little heated now, and upset that Alex would just laugh at her like that. He'd never done it before.

"I did, yes, and I imagine it does hold a great deal as to the source of your powers."

"I don't understand, Alex," Elsa said. "Why implant something like that in my head? Why Lilly? Why try to convince me I'm a spirit?"

"Elsa, did you choose to come here?" Alex asked. His tone had warmed immensely and he looked at her with honest curiosity.

"I don't know what you mean?"

"Did you come here by your own personal choice, or were you compelled? Not compelled in a 'gut sense' or 'the right thing to do' kind of way, mind you, but was it a compulsion that if you did not come to London it would utterly violate your very sense of being?"

"I chose. I wanted to come to London because the Commodore said this would be the best place to find answers, and I wanted to come before the Conference in the Spring. But I'm not sure what that has to do with this."

"Spirits do not have Free Will, Elsa." Alex said calmly. "They are bound to the nature of their forms. That's why they can be bound in the first place. You see, God gifted the spirits magic so that the spirits could add to creation in their way as intended by their role. Man did not receive the gift of magic because we received other gifts: the right to give names to all the forms, and thus dominion over creation, and Free Will to not be bound to our nature. It was these gifts, I've read, that caused the Spirits to rise up and it is why the Fallen hate us so much. They may have magic, but we were given something far, far greater."

"So they needed to convince me to help them? But for what? Ahtohallan was never mentioned in any of the texts you gave me." Elsa looked up at the paintings around the room again. "But you know something else, don't you?"

"Well, in a way, yes. You won't find it under the name Ahtohallan." Alex admitted as he retrieved another book from the shelves and carried it over to the table. "Though at first I wasn't sure. I had to reach out to an … associate … on the matter." He set the book onto the table and slid it over to Elsa. It was a copy of the Bible, and he flipped it open to the first page of Genesis.

"And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters." Alex quoted aloud and with a special emphasis on the word deep. "Ahtohallan is all that remains of those waters, Elsa. To the Hebrew it was Tehom, to the Babylonians it was Tamtu, and before that it was Tiamah. Other religions have different names for it, but the gist of it is that it is the primordial waters from which the Earth arose. That's why it is where all memories go. Because it was there before anything else."

Elsa stared at the page and leaned her head into her hands. Was that the truth? Certainly Alex had no reason to lie to hear about something like this. But the possibility of it raised so many more questions that flew through her mind.

"Alex, I think I may need to take a break." Elsa said softly, still processing the information. Her host nodded and started to turn his attention back to Facilier.

"I think that may be a good plan, Elsa." Alex said, "Just don't forget there will be guests over for dinner tonight. Dr. Goldwyn and the Commodore will be here, as well as Louis-Napoleon and another longtime friend I have not introduced to you yet."

Elsa was already at the door when she finished, and she nodded in response. She wished she could have dinner now. Moments later Facilier dismissed himself as well, and Alex remained in his place reviewing the last few documents for the day. They were reports of Revolutionary movements across Europe, the secret movement of arms, and the statuses of all his plans for the coming year. When the time was right, Europe would burn, and a new, freer world would rise from the ashes like the Phoenix.

Denmark
Fredericksberg Palace

Hans awoke to the most painful headache he'd ever experienced in his life. His head was wrapped in bandages, and as his eyes slowly refocused he realized he was back in his room in Eric's palace.

"Don't move too quickly." Ariel said. She was sitting by the bed with a book on her lap. "The doctors said you struck your head pretty hard, but fortunately there didn't seem to be any significant damage beyond some bleeding. The mud probably saved you."

"How's Maria?" Hans asked weakly.

"The horse is fine. A local farmer found you and brought you back to us." Ariel said, and she poured a glass of cool water down his throat. "We were so worried when you first came back. Eric was especially upset."

"I guess there goes my riding privileges."

"No, Hans, he was upset at himself." Ariel said, comforting her brother-in-law. "He realized he had probably been restricting your movements too much, especially after how well you have done. And Melody spoke highly of how you've acted with her dancing lessons."

"She's a good teacher." Hans laughed. "Especially for someone who had fins."

"Yes, well, she was taught by someone who had six to spare." Ariel laughed. "Besides, I didn't think it was that hard."

"You know, you never told me what it was like." Hans said, turning his head just enough to look at Ariel. "Your old life. Before all of this."

"I made my choice, Hans, just as you made yours." Ariel replied. "Melody told me what happened."

"Did she? She's a good girl, Ariel. Get her as far from this family as you can. I think you could find her a good husband in America…" He tried to laugh but it hurt.

"She'll make that choice when the time comes." Ariel looked out towards the window as the rains continued. "Hans, can I ask you something?"

"Why did I do it?"

"... yes." Ariel said quietly.

Hans looked up the painted ceiling above him and contemplated the matter.

"I don't think I really know anymore."