Chapter 5 - Let It Go

Erik had been walking for miles. To where? He didn't know. When he would stop? He didn't care. As long as he was alone, as long as he wasn't hurting anyone, he was better off. Eventually he stopped tracking through the ankle-deep snow of the North Mountain to survey his surroundings. It was snowing relatively hard, but he could still see fine. The tears that had stuck to his face had froze over and flew away in a flurry of snowflakes long ago, and he now stood in the middle of a snowy mountain in a cape and crown. All he could do was stand there and accept the realisation that his worst nightmare had come true. He couldn't believe it. Not even a day into being king and he had managed to ruin everything. Everything he had worked to keep secret. Everything his father had taught him, all the effort, sacrifice and emotional strain it had taken for him to conceal his powers had all been for nothing. The vision he had seen 11 years ago had come true. Everyone saw what he was hiding, deep down inside, and they had screamed in fear. He had been called a monster. No doubt they would lock him up and throw away the key if he ever stepped foot in Arendelle again.

"I'm sorry father…" he whispered into the frosty air, "I failed you…" A cloud of smoke escaped his lips.

He watched it float off into the sky, and even the breath of air seemed to be more free than him. What would everyone think of him now? Now that they knew the king of Arendelle possessed demonic ice powers, would they look for him? Hunt him down? Kill him? Was he really a monster? He looked down at his hands and buried his face in them. He clawed at his forehead as if to drown out all the pain he had caused others.

'I can't do this…' He thought. 'I can't live with myself anymore…'

And then it hit him. He slowly raised his head away from his hands and looked towards the mountains. He had suddenly realised. It didn't matter what others thought of him, he couldn't care less. Why should he care? He couldn't help his affliction. Wait, no. This wasn't an affliction; it was a power. He possessed a power to make beautiful creations out of snow. He had the power to create ice at will. As a child, he had slipped off a glove every now and then and played around with his ability and made a few snowflakes, and they had always been beautiful. Maybe it was time to break out the ice magic again.

Cautiously, Erik raised his arm and opened his palm, and a gorgeous swirl of snow danced out of it. Marvelling at the beauty of it, he raised his other arm and did the same. He started with small flourishes, one from each hand, and then dived straight into using both hands to make large, intricate patterns of ice. He suddenly remembered something from his childhood, and manoeuvred his fingers to create Olga the snowman from when he was ten. As soon as she was formed, he continued walking on, not noticing that the snow creation had blinked…

He looked down at his cape and unhooked it, letting the wind take it far, far away. He had never liked purple anyway. It felt freeing to shed himself of the colours that represented a kingdom of people who hated him, and didn't even look behind him as the piece of fabric flew away. It suddenly dawned on him that he couldn't survive out here on his own. He may have been numb to the feeling of cold, but that didn't mean ravenous wolves wouldn't come after him in the night. But he would worry about that later. He was the happiest he had ever been in years, maybe even his life. He no longer had to carry the burden of everyone's guilt on his shoulders. He could be his own man. Feeling an amazing bolt of adrenaline rush through him, he ran with all his might up the mountain, piles and piles of snow being his only friends and he couldn't be happier. He turned around to face the place where he had come from, and couldn't even see Arendelle anymore. It was amazing how small people and problems seemed when you just stepped away from it and chose not to care in the slightest. It was the most freeing feeling in the world, not having to care.

He came to a place where the mountain he was on ended and a new one began. It would be impossible to make the jump to it, as it was several feet higher, so he had an idea. With a flourish of both arms, he created the base of a staircase made purely out of frost. As his foot touched the first step, it turned to solid ice, and without another thought, he was bounding up the steps, creating them as he ran. The frost had turned to flawless ice by the time he had reached the top of the next mountain, the banisters possessing an intricate geometric pattern. He ran his hand along his new creation. He had no idea what he had been capable of this whole time. His father had treated it like a curse. But something this beautiful had to be more than that. Suddenly, he had another idea. If he could make a staircase, what else could he do? Could... could he...

He ran to the centre of the mountain and stamped his foot. Hard. An enormous, thick snowflake protruded from the ground, making a base for his new vision. Suddenly, he motioned his hands up and pillars and walls made of pure ice began to form. They built up, and up, and up, until he was suddenly standing on a second level. Before he knew it, he had made an exquisite castle, made entirely out of ice. Every surface was his favourite colour; blue. Gorgeous chandeliers grew from the ceiling, made out of sharp, spiky icicles. The doorways and walls were perfectly smooth and rounded off, similar to the style of the Arendelle palace, only made out of solid ice. Now this was his kind of castle.

He felt the crown atop his head and took it off. He held it in his hands for a while, and rubbed his thumb over the emerald jewel at the crown's centre. His father had worn this crown. But his father had also told him to suppress such a wonderful gift, and to never talk to his brother, and to stay locked in his room for 11 years. Saying a mental goodbye to the royal life he was born into, Erik spied the open window he had just made. His face knotting into a death glare, he muttered "Let it go." And threw the crown right into the open air, away from him, away from his past, away from his father. That perfect boy was finally gone. He ran his hands through his hair and let it go wild, free of the horrible gel he had used to slick it back earlier that day.

He looked down at his attire. They were the colours of Arendelle; teal, purple and Burgundy. He hated them. Could he… could he really? It was worth a try.

Erik waved his arms up the length of his body as a new outfit made out of thin and malleable frost materialised. A stunning new suit and jacket formed over his old clothes. The shirt was open-collar and an icy shade of blue, coming down into a v shape that ended below his chest. The pants were simple, made out of the same material as the shirt, and tucked into icy blue boots. Finally, he made a cape decorated with astonishing patterns of swirls and snowflakes, and it trailed behind him. He walked out onto the balcony, taking in the white-pink sunrise that peeked out over the farthest mountain. This land was his. This place was his. There was no one to tell him what to do here, no one to tell him to stay locked inside a room for days on end. No one to tell him that he had a curse and couldn't speak to anyone. He felt the familiar comfort of the cold caress his skin as the early morning chill rushed through him.

With a flick of his cape, he turned and went back inside his ice palace, the doors slamming shut behind him. Now, he was truly free.

Author's note: Really hope you're enjoying it so far! Sorry that this chapter is so description heavy, it kind of needed to be. Decided to put an author's note here cuz it's a pivotal chapter, and you're pretty much 1/3 way through anyhow. I finished writing this chapter a couple weeks before dropping out of school, and the whole time I was writing about freedom, I was thinking about freeing myself from the education system. Happy to report, best decision I ever made ; )