The searing light burning into Anna's eyes forces them open for a split second before she slumps back into the carpet. Every bone in her spine aches as the princess tries to turn over, but the pain is replaced by a throbbing hurt in her heart when she stretches out her arm and is greeted by an empty spot next to her.

"Elsa?" Anna slurs, hearing only the tweeting of birds on the windowsill for a reply. The emptiness floods into her consciousness faster than she can lie to herself that everything will be alright, but she succeeds in stopping the tears from forming in her eyes. Afraid of the slightest movement upsetting this delicate balance in her emotions, Anna lies still and waits for her eyes to adjust to the sunlight, before deciding what to do next.

As her vision swims into focus, a neat stack on her dresser table comes into view, a stark contrast to the unruly mess of makeup and perfumes strewn about. She stares at the pile until it starts to make sense, and her lips part in surprise when she realises what it is.

"Macarons!" Anna exclaims. Her sleep-induced aches forgotten, the princess leaps to her feet and darts to the table, cramming one into her mouth and savoring the taste of salted caramel buttercream. The next macaron nearly makes it into her mouth, before she notices its familiar shade of brown; the heady fragrance of chocolate bringing a smirk to her lips.

"Nice try, Elsa," she mutters, setting the chocolate macaron back onto the table. A folded, crisp-white sheet of palace stationery catches her eye, and the princess unfolds it as she chews on the remnants of her treat.

Anna,

I do hope you'll forgive me for the words I said last night. No matter the choices you've made, it's now my turn to make mine, and I must be gone for awhile on a task of considerable difficulty, but vital to our security. Whether or not I will survive this quest - let it be in God's hands. If I'm not back by the third sunrise, approach Kai for arrangements regarding your succession.

In the past, seeing your smile only reminded me how much I regretted shutting you out, but the sweetness of your kiss was the only thing which could set things right again. Only a love as pure as yours could spur me on to do the things which I must, and it is my deepest wish that you refrain from pursuing me - I wouldn't know how I could live with myself if I make it back and you fail to.

I love you Anna, I always have, now and forever.

-Elsa

"Fuck," Anna mutters, reading Elsa's note again in a vain attempt to convince herself this isn't a nightmare. Everything about the note pointed towards an act of careful deliberation: the graceful swoop of her sister's handwriting, the presence of a royal seal which would invalidate claims of forgery, and Elsa's crown - already laid neatly next to her tiara on the dresser table.

Anna lets out a shrill sigh, almost exasperated in tone, as she slumps into her chair - the note dangling from her fingers. At once, she clutches her head while the room spins around her, threatening to make her throw up whatever little she has eaten.

"Goddammit, Elsa - why?" Anna growls, crumpling the note into a tiny ball and hurling it across the room.

"You have to stay here," Elsa mumbles as she pats her dragon's icicle-covered head, "it's too warm inside there for you."

The snowy wind wraps itself around Elsa's shoulders as she stares at the cavern's entrance. Blood-red and roaring like the mouth of a hungry lion, the Tarsanth mountain range stares back at her with the determination of an angered foe.

"Come on, Elsa," the queen whispers to herself, "courage, for Anna."

Dressed in a humble peasant's dress, Elsa's boots make crunching noises as she plods her way in the snow towards the cavern's entrance. The blazing heat intensifies with each step she takes; by the time she stands beneath its imposing arches, a layer of ash and grim coats her fair features, and the snow beneath her feet has changed into hardened pumice stone – remnants from the last time the volcano reared its ugly head.

The sudden roar of superheated volcanic air freezes Elsa in her steps; she shields her eyes from the heat and pushes on into the cavern, guided by nothing more than the faint glow of her lantern. Despite the enormity of the cave's entrance, the rock walls quickly give way to hollowed out tunnels barely tall enough for her to stoop under. With the sunlight reduced to a mere trickle falling through cracks in the ceiling, Elsa starts feeling along the walls for support, her confident strides from earlier dropping to a cautious pace.

Despite the wariness in her footsteps, fatigue overcomes Elsa; she fails to notice a patch of moss lining the rocks, and slips. A shriek echoes through the cavern's chambers as she takes a tumble down a crevice. The lantern slips from her fingers and shatters in a spray of embers and fuel, plunging the cavern into pitch darkness. With nothing stopping her sliding down the mossy cave floor, Elsa slips through a crack in the ground and lands face first into the ground.

"Ugh," Elsa scowls, spitting out a mix of ash and dirt which had gotten into her mouth. A dull glow greets her when she opens her eyes, allowing her to make out the shadowy figures descending upon her. With a flick of her wrist, she attempts to cast an ice scepter - but the numbness endured during her fall dissipates, bringing with it a fiery heat that blossoms across her face and sends her reeling.

"What-" Elsa hisses, squinting at the only source of light around her, and the furious heat it emanates. The red glow appears to be moving, and a shriek escapes her lips as she remembers what exactly lava was. Elsa backs away from the shadowy figure silhouetted against the lava, but at once, she feels the point of a spear jammed against her throat. Panic overwhelms her mind and she calls ice into her hands, but nothing appears, save for the hiss of water dripping on superheated rock. She stares at her hands in horror and tries again, to no avail. With nothing left inside her but panic, she squints at the row of shadowy, hooded assailants surrounding her and attempts to make sense of the situation before her.

"Christ!" Elsa exclaims, wincing at the metal searing her skin, "How do you even live in this place?"

An elderly man with a beard as long as the walking stick in his right hand approaches Elsa and lifts his sunken eyes to her trembling frame pressed up against the rock wall. Wrinkles criss-cross his leathery skin, rough and calloused from years of living in a volcano.

"You'll find that our people have evolved well enough," he whispers, "the human form is capable of great feats, I'd expect someone of your powers to know."

"I am nothing like you!" Elsa hisses, shoving away the man's spear. At once, the group of assassins surrounding her draw swords in a circle of heated steel, and Elsa backs away from their menacing gestures.

"Stop!" the man commands, "Forgive our lack of manners, we're not used to having visitors. Please enlighten us - what brings you to Tarsanth?"

Elsa grits her teeth at the leader and balls up her fists, "You dare deny the crime you've committed?"

"Your majesty, I'm not denying-"

"You sent killers after Anna and I while we were out hunting!" Elsa gasps.

Hampered by his hunch, the man grunts as he straightens his back. Even at his full height, he struggles to maintain eye contact with Elsa.

"Yes, I did-"

"...and I'm not leaving this place until you tell me exactly who paid you to do it!" Elsa exclaims, crossing her arms.

"The last surviving Prince of the Southern Isles," the leader confesses without hesitation, "he offered me a sizeable sum of gold if I were to succeed. But the deal was only for Princess Anna, not you."

"What-" Elsa starts, unable to find the words to follow up on his confession, since she hadn't counted on him revealing the truth so quickly, "Why Anna and not me?"

"Well, so far she has gotten thirteen of the Southern Isles' princes killed - I'd assume the last brother would've had a serious vendetta to carry out against your sister. Also, there must be a reason he wants to leave you alive - he was particularly adamant on it."

"And you're just telling me all this?"

"Outsiders like yourself just do not understand," the man scowls, dismissing Elsa with a flick of his wrist, "all this killing is merely a means to an end. A chance for us to fulfill our destiny."

The queen sees him cock his head at the assassins; she jerks away from the searing cuffs they slap onto her wrists, but within a split-second, a hood descends on her head, and her world blacks out into an agonizing maelstrom of blows and burning metal.

The first thing Elsa feels on her skin is a cold sweat, followed by the chill sting of frost on her hands. Her head throbs from the pain of her blows, and the taste of blood floods her mouth. The smell of ash still permeates the air, but the heat is gone. Sensing the opportunity, Elsa's fists turn to ice as she lurches upright to face her captor.

"Now, now, your majesty, let's exercise some restraint," the man cautions, pointing at a trapdoor in the ceiling, "I can have this room flooded with lava before you can end my life."

"You wouldn't-"

"Oh yes, we could. Down here, I am the ruler, and you are our subject," he says, not breaking his gaze from the enormous craggy rock before them. Caked in cooled lava, the rock towers over them, lit by a circle of torches all around its silverish crown.

"What do you want with me anyway? I swear I won't exact vengeance on your sect, since you've freely released the names of those seeking my life."

"Your petty little inter-kingdom politics are of little importance here. We have a far greater purpose for you today," he says, running his bony fingers along the rock's surface.

"What-"

"Our ancestors found a beautiful relic in the depths of this volcano. If you lean closely you can hear the rumblings of a new tomorrow; a world free from sin and evil. A world free from people like you!"

A pang of grief pounces on Elsa as she recalls the evils she has done to get here. In a bid to distract herself, she leans closer to the egg and mutters, "I can't hear anything-"

"The dragon only reveals itself to those it deems worthy! Monarchs are the worst sinners of them all, stealing from the poor to exact their oppression; it's little wonder he's gone quiet today."

"I think I've had enough of this place," Elsa scowls, crossing her arms, "I insist you lead me out of this hell-hole at once!"

"Not until you give us what we want-"

"Well, what is it?"

"We need a touch of magic," he exclaims, "a burst of magic that will set it free!"

"Now you've really lost me, what exactly is- or you believe is in this...thing?"

"A beast which will herald a world free from itself, free from the plague known as mankind."

"Alright. I've heard enough-" Elsa hisses, pulling off her gloves, "there's no such thing in there!"

With a flick of her wrist, Elsa casts a glimmering wave of ice against the rock. Fingers of frost creep up its craggy exterior and seal it once over with a coating of ice. In the back of her mind, Elsa thinks she can hear a scream emanating from the bowels of the beast-egg, but the volcano had been tumultuous anyway – so she maintains her silence as a chill descends upon the room.

The leader stares at his precious rock with his jaw hanging wide open. The frost extinguishes some of the torches, leaving the room in a dim glow, with foggy tendrils slithering from the rock's silvery crown. He runs his fingers along the ice, and recoils from the sheer chill Elsa had embedded into it.

"Useless," he scowls, whipping around and poking at Elsa with his stick, "you're bloody useless!"

Elsa jerks away and frowns at him, "what- you told me to-"

"Go on! Shoo! Get out!" he exclaims, poking her again, "You're a sinner and unworthy of its presence! Get out of the temple!"

Elsa smiles at the welcome bliss of a chill winter breeze rushing across her skin; she hitches her gown to her knees and trudges through the thick layer of snow which had fallen during the hours she's spent holed up in the volcano. Against the midday sun's glare, she makes out her dragon's glittering ice-wings, and picks up the pace. She stumbles momentarily into the snow, but the thought of seeing Anna again spurs her onto her feet.

"Come now," Elsa whispers, and her dragon leaps into the air with a roar. An enormous shadow sweeps over the snow-swept mountainside as it glides across the snow on the wind. With a grunt, the beast lands on the snow beside Elsa in a spray of sleet.

"Alright, let's get out of here," Elsa mutters, perching herself on its ice-saddle.

The frantic crowing from a flock of birds fleeing south piques Elsa's interest, and the slightest tremor in the distance draws her eyes towards the volcano which held her captive over the past hours. Its rocks glow cherry red against the snowy landscape, and smoke begins rising from its peak. The tremor develops into a full-on earthquake, eliciting a chorus of growling from her dragon.

"No-" Elsa gasps, clinging onto her reins, "it can't be."

Her efforts at keeping herself perched on the saddle are in vain, however; an explosion knocks her from her mount, sending her tumbling over and over in the snow.

"Go!" Elsa yells, throwing herself over her dragon and shrieking as the beast leaps into the air. A plume of flame and smoke slices across her path, sending her reeling from the heat searing into her skin. She whirls around and gasps at the monstrous sight before her eyes.

The fiery beast perches itself on the volcano like a child over an ant-hill; its tail coils upon the snowy slopes, flicking away the rapidly melting frost. With a snort of smog, an air of darkness descends upon the dragon as it lays eyes on Elsa and her ice dragon, so small and frail beneath the sheer size of its being.

"Jesus, I didn't think for one second," Elsa gasps, before changing her mind, "fuck it – let's get the hell out of here!"

With a tug of the reins, Elsa sends her dragon fleeing from the monstrosity as fast as its icy wings can muster. The air around her starts to boil as the beast makes its presence known around her, and it takes all her concentration to keep her mount in one piece. The roar of a thunderstorm alerts her to the darkening clouds gathering over her head, and she barely notices the fiery rocks descending from the sky a split-second before one slams into her. A shield of ice conjured at the very last moment stops the lump of molten rock dead in its tracks.

"Fuck-" Elsa shrieks, vaporizing her ice-shield and flailing her arms. Her skin crawls with electricity as her fingers fail to grasp anything, and her heart plummets together with her body through the air as she sees the remnants of her dragon breaking up in the shower of fiery brimstone. With nothing more than a thought in her mind, Elsa materializes another dragon beneath her beast blossoms in a spray of moisture and frozen lily petals, twice as long as the previous one, with a wingspan to match. Despite her efforts at making a dragon as large as the one bearing down on her with its fiery breath, Elsa finds herself struggling to control the beast's icy limbs in the boiling heat.

A deafening roar in the distance sends Elsa plummeting away from the beam of fire hurtling through the air. The queen shrieks as the scorching flames glance past her face, and her fingers come away with blood from the blisters lining her cheek. Barely able to maintain the dragon's wings, she whirls whats left of her beast towards the fire dragon, hovering in the air over her like rain clouds over a tiny village.

Gritting her teeth, Elsa summons an icy blade in her fist, and it takes all her strength and concentration to pass the most blistering cold she can imagine into its tip. The sword slices through the darkness like the last ember from a dying flame; each flap of the fire dragon's wings dimming what little life it holds.

Dwarfed by the immensity of the dragon's body, Elsa sends her own mount beneath its belly, dodging its flailing wings and limbs as it passes under. With a grunt, Elsa leaps from her saddle and slices into the dragon's stomach, eliciting a roar of discontent from her enemy. A whistle sounds in her ear, and she notices its source a moment too late before she's dashed from her mount by the dragon's tail sailing through the air faster than a speeding bullet.

Stars blossom across Elsa's eyes as she plummets from the sky in a spray of ice and rock. She tries to conjure another dragon, a sword, even a gust of snow-laced wind - but there's nothing. With death racing to envelop her in its craggy jaws, Elsa attempts merely to think, to fill her thoughts with the blissful visage of her sister's freckled face so that it may ease her passing.

When even that too, is futile - Elsa stretches out her hands, surrendering herself to the wind streaking past her ash-lined hair. Specks of snow and rain race past her eyes; she makes out her adversary's fiery claws hovering over it all.

Somewhere in space and time, the sensation of falling deserts her, although the sense of impending doom fails to lift. She closes her fingers, and a smirk spreads across her face when they come away with cold. Snow, Elsa thinks, smiling at the white powder between her fingers. The earth quakes beneath the dragon's talons as its lands a few yards from Elsa's resting place. She'd never imagine her end would come about by something mythical - it was always the treacherous hand of men which had come close to killing her.

An ear-splitting roar drags Elsa back from her reminiscence of death and dying, and the magnitude of her wounds begin to seep into her brain with liquid pain. Punishment, she thinks, a penance for my sins. Of which are too numerous to count: deserting her kingdom, torture and murder, sleeping with her sister and forsaking her to Anastasia.

The beast snorts in agreement, and a blinding-hot orb of fire builds up within its jaws. Elsa smiles as she stares at her killer rearing up to deliver his final blow, when the thought of her sister's huge, blue eyes finally floats into her memory.

"Anna," Elsa whispers, silently glad she's able to remember that beautiful name in her final moments.