June 21, 1842:
It has been long. I'm currently snuggled under the roof of my castle, wrapped under warm soft blankets as the rest of my exposed limbs hang to be indulged by the heat of the soothing crackling of the fireplace. It was Anna's birthday and I wanted it to be special, for I felt as if I needed to make up for all we've never gotten the chance to do before then. And after all, it's her 21st birthday. I've spent the entire day, doing everything I could do to make it all perfect, but I've succumbed to a cold. A cold which decided to show up on the very day something important was to happen. Oh, the timing.
Though despite it all, I've never been so grateful for such a day unlike any other. I've spent the whole day with my sister. Not avoiding her. Not having to conceal anything. Not even having to go back to queenly duties at any point. It truly was the entire day. Olaf was there, making us all laugh and worry a bit at times; Kristof and Sfen, who performed on their own level of buffoonery. They are such characters. It was rather cute. For once it felt like I was one with the loving family I've always longed for after so long. Anna's birthday wasn't perfect, but at least the moment spent couldn't possibly be any more wonderful.
I've currently retreated back into the old reclusive part of me. A part of me which has never seen the light of day since my crazy return to Arendelle. I was blessed that I've never had to do that after then. It was always lonely and admittedly cold under that cursed persona. But today, I was only visiting my old self. I couldn't be bothered to emulate it, for it may convince me to pursue my end.
Never again.
I only visited this dark phase because I couldn't help but compare how I am now to how I was then. Never I'd relive the past, but never would I want to forget it. While reminiscing, I almost forgot that I had documented my pains on my cold book of unremorseful ice. Remembering that I never managed to find closure within the pages led me to right here, right now. But this time was different, I'm writing on a piece of paper. I usually take it for granted, especially when I sign my signatures on royal documents, but then, to write on paper without ruining it was a gift from above. I still possess ice powers though, the demon within could never leave for good, but now it has been tamed and under the influence of my will, and love.
The first time I was able to write on paper was not too far from when I stopped writing my final entrée. It was the very day after if I could recall it correctly. The blizzards were much stronger than the day prior. Seeing anything past my hand couldn't be done without struggle, and clumsiness. No wildlife as far as my eyes could see. The moans and groans of my scrappy appetite soon gave out in exhaustion, as I struggled to drag my anchored legs across the stubborn snow. It had been nearly a week since I've last had a change of clothes. The heels that had strangled my bare frosted feet turned to sharpened ice. The dress I once had degraded to mere rags which bathed and embraced the elements around, letting way for them to smother my body to an agonizing state. I couldn't remember most of my thoughts as to why I bothered to stay alive that day instead of succumbing to my insanity, telling me to end it all. If I had a guess, it would be whether or not that day would present to me something special, whether or not it was truly my time to go. Or it could simply be because I was too afraid to kill myself. Perhaps I'd rather let my own demons end it instead of me. Or could I have planned my death the next day rather than the night of, just so I could experience my very last sunrise. Whatever the reason, I simply trudged alone, aimlessly, in hopes of finding my final answer, whatever that was.
I managed to wonder pretty far for whatever energy I had left, before my head turned light and my vision became covered in dark greenish black spots, covering the sight of a nearby town I've stumbled upon. I could remember being overcame by a numb feeling as my eyes gave up holding themselves alert. I was on the very verge of blacking out, but I still managed to hold on. It was then I thought I would explore my final thoughts of my old and new memories: my youth, my parents, Anna, Olaf, the puppy, and each little spec of warmth and love that came with it. I thought it was then and there that I would let myself go, let it happen, obey its command. "Succumb," I would have done, letting myself go to all the emotional and physical burdens I've been indebted for too long.
I never heard it, nor I remembered hearing it, for the sounds around me faded dim, but as it turned out, someone tapped me in the arm and spoke to me. Startled and worried, I practically sobered myself and pointed a sharp gaze at a faint figure. She was small and continued to speak to me. I still couldn't make out the words. My ears were still fazed. It was a little girl wearing a light coat dragging a small sled with what seemed like dead animals. They were furs.
"Hey miss! Hey miss! Are you lost?" said the girl repeatedly until I could grasp each word being said to me.
Despite my daze, it struck me like a pickax that she was still tugging on my sleeves. And just right when it was too late, the girl unwarily yanked my hand before telling me that she would lead me to the town nearby.
She didn't freeze. Not even a spec of frost. But I remember trying to yank my hand away, but I was too weak.
"Don't touch me!" I yelled with a bit of bitterness. I never meant it. I feel sorry just thinking about that, but I didn't think she heard me, for she ignored me and continued pulling me down a large hill which valleyed the town just below it.
I didn't know what I was thinking then. I could never have imagined a day where I'd be dragged back to society by a little girl who'd somehow manage to drag my hand without being unintentionally punished for it. The town wasn't anything extravagant. It had a row of small houses and shops with a round-about at the end of it. All the buildings were made with flimsy looking wood that could be wet to the touch. But I could imagine each one being very cozy within. Each decorated simple, while brightened and warmed by a soothing fireplace, much like the one comforting me as I write.
The closer and closer we'd walked into town, the further and further my heart would sink. When becoming present to society after fleeing from another who shamed you for being the foul creature of sorcery, the horrors of being back understandably haunted me. I could remember when people stared at me, I would imagine them thinking about how they've gotten the word about me and what I've done. Many sets of glaring eyes would scream.
"Alas! The witch is back!"
"How could this monster show her face in dignity?"
"Burn her!"
…and other phrases.
When thinking back on it all, the stares could simply be the shock of a newcomer into town. Or how frosted and ragged I was compared to the others, wondering what I may have been through, where I came from, who am I, and did I need help. The little girl may have had the same thoughts. I was nothing short of a dying mess then.
But for the meantime, I gathered the strength to yank my arm away from her right after uttering, "wow, your hands are being covered in frost."
I think I was nervous.
"You don't look familiar to me. You don't live here, do you?" she would say.
I didn't have the strength to speak, so I only managed to bob a tired nod.
And on and on she would ramble, "I thought so, I can usually spot when someone is a visitor because I know everyone who lives here, I can name every single person who lives here and most of what they do, The one over there with the top hat is Franz Holt, he's our missionary, The big guy is John, he goes in and out to get ice, There's just so much available this past week, so he's been very busy lately…"
And on and on she'd continue, 'this one owns the goods store over there. This lady is her best friend's mother. This other guy is a hunter who currently isn't very lucky right now.' More people, more names that I didn't bother learning. She was a rather mouth full. She was also quite jumpy and energetic, running circles around me as she'd sung her breathless run-ons, for she couldn't help but dump every little bit of knowledge about the tiny town they inhabit. Though, admittedly, Anna can be much the same at times.
"…so how did you get lost? What's your name? How long were you out there? Where did you come from?"
She managed to end it there. End with a blind fascination about me. It did give comfort knowing that a person who'd claim to know all the ins and outs of her town wouldn't know who I was, nor any rumors of why the land was frozen, but it also left me stiffened to understand that she's just a little girl. She only looked 5 years old but for some reason decides to drag a questionable stranger with her without even getting to know before then. Not only so, she was out and alone in the cold woods dragging a sled of robbable goods, as if it were perfectly fine and normal. I'd tell her my name and that I came from far, and that I simply got lost when the winter struck but returned the curiosity as to what she was doing and all the worries that came with it.
"Oh, I went out to grab some furs from the huntsman, the one still hunting, not the one taking a lunch break, for he doesn't have furs on him, I'd know because I asked him earlier, and he said no, so I thought I would just go out to the other one in the woods, I know where he hunts, and where his hideout shed is, so I didn't think it was a problem to go up there and ask him for some furs for me to take back home to give to my sister, who's very I'll right now, probably because of the cold, so that's why mom must of told me to go out and fetch them, And also – "
I had to interrupt, or she'd never stop. I'd asked her as to why didn't mom go after them.
"- oh, that's because she's busy all the time, just like my dad, who chops wood for a living. My mom would turn that wood into paper where she works, that's actually how they met each other, isn't that adorable!? I'll have to tell the story, oh I must, mom tells it all the time and you must listen – "
"How about later, uuhh…" I didn't know her name when thinking about it. Her name was Gabby, of course, but she was the one to tell me before I bothered asking. I still wondered as to why her mom would let her out like that, but I guess this might just be a rather good place to live perhaps.
"Do you want to stay over in our house? We have warm coffee under a fireplace. I'm sure you'd like the company, and plus, you'd need to hear the story. OH YES! And you got to meet my sister. She's not herself at the moment, probably a cold, but I feel you'd like her. Oh, and my mom and dad of course - "
"-By any chance, could we go to the market? I need some gloves."
If I was to inevitably accompany them. I might as well do them my favor.
Next thing I remembered, I got a set of gloves and a new set of cloths, not to mention, and I was in their home. The fireplace lit up the entirety of the tiny cottage on the right while a figure shivered and sat weakly, looking at the fire, coughing and hacking at times. The couches that they sat on were rotten and bug ridden but decorated with artistic quilts as to make them usable. The inner walls were cold and wet. In fact, the living room had quite a few cold spots, despite the furious flames. There was a wall portrait of two parents and a little girl that's crooked, next to another portrait of an older looking girl, all straightened and neat. She looked older than Gabby, but not old enough to be a mother.
"This here is my sister, Eira," Gabby presented the figure on the couch. She was paler and more lifeless than the snow. She tried to wave and smile, but her coughing interrupted her. Blood managed to come out of her, staining the knitted couch sheets and herself. She wasn't just sick. I remembered there was simply no way that was just a cold.
"Gabby! Did you bring the furs?!," said a voice.
Gabby responded and attempted to lay the furs on Eira, who snatched them in desperation as she struggled to make warmth.
The girl's mother came over to the living room and saw me. She was a bit surprised at first, having an unfamiliar stranger come in her home, only welcomed by her unwary child. But at the end of her little roller coaster of thoughts, she welcomed me like if I were a long-lost friend. She tried to hug me and offer me some warm refreshments, but I refused, both out of courtesy and weary. She was so nice and caring to me. She didn't know me at all but yet managed to treat me like if I was important to her.
She'd tell me that, "Here you tend a stranger with love, and love will the stranger tend there." It was a saying that they seemed to really uphold. A motto which ultimately led them to making me that hot coffee I, despite my refusal, admittedly desired.
For the most part, we simply entertained ourselves with conversation upon the couches. She asked where I came from, how I ended up here, and I responded just the same as I've done with Gabby and how she led me here. I talked about some of the lands I've seen. Like a mere visitor, I talked about how beautiful Arendelle is and how it had luscious greens upon the mountain inclines which snuggled the inner kingdom close to them and the saturated water which would do gentle kisses around wide harbor like the kiss upon the kingdom's hand outstretched, only to await the presence of great nobility that would come in for a great coronation that happened the night I was there.
"Oh, and how was the coronation? Did you get to see the queen?!" said the mother.
"I did," I remember the tale I told quite vividly. I could remember the sparkle of muse which glistened their eyes as I talked about how I entered the giant palace doors and being welcomed by the many royal staff, as I would imagine if I were a visitor.
Then after, I would exaggerate how much they had to serve. They had enough food for the entire kingdom to fall into food coma 10 times over. Silverware as far as the eye could see. 8000 salad plates and glasses. 8-fold in slick silvery fine forks, spoons, and knives, and of many different types. The food was more divine than gods could ever imagine.
During the coronation, the queen strolled out elegantly and with confidence. Her gloves were off, and her hands were free from the tyrannies of oppressed restriction, allowing them to hold the sacred royal artifacts without a peep of ungracefulness upon the expression on her warm facade. The brass orchestra blasted out loud the crisp and clean melodies that were associated with the essence of royalty. The crowd clapped and cheered without any fault nor doubts about her legitimacy.
In the main ball, the lights lit the room with the glistening of gold. The walls were wild and whimsical, almost alive and active, accompanying the serine sounds such that serenaded so many ears. People of royalty mixed with people with common lives. All dancing as if they were all life-long neighbors.
My story caught me up catering to the tether which wound me close my personal indulgences. I kept rambling on about how I watched the way the queen and her sister interacted with each other, how they smiled and held hands. One eager to dance and the other much obliged. Both would make their ways to the main dance floor and dance carelessly to something allegro. It would've been a great sight to see, two sisters, relieved of any boundaries and burdens, too busy to bother bumming but not so to all the fun.
"I'm sorry, would've?" said the mother.
"Oh, I was referring to my sister, who didn't come with me", I said.
"Oh, ok, do you usually remember the places you travel so vividly?"
I said it was simply a place I most recently explored, but really, it was truly the best place I've never visited.