Chapter Four: Assault of the Hoard
As nighttime fell, Elsa, dressed in her least formal dress of brown wool, suppressed a giggle as Anna dragged her through the crowds, clutching her wrist like a lifeline and going on about each and every thing they came across in one long sentence. It seemed that no matter how many times she visited the marketplace, there was always a thousand and one things that amazed her. That in itself made Elsa happy.
Elsa was glad that Anna was able to convince her to take this break from "boring queenly stuff" for the night and indulge in the things she made possible. Kristoff had even gotten in on it and voiced the thought that she should experience the goods that were brought in from everywhere inside and outside the country, rather than simply reading about them. The statement had given Elsa a new respect for the soul of a bard that resided in her dear brother-in-law.
Eventually, Anna let go of Elsa's wrist after pulling her in front of a small stand that served hot apple cider. People milled around it, enjoying their drinks on the warm night. "Come on, Elsa, try it!" Anna said, practically shoving a glass of the spicy beverage into the queen's hands. Elsa looked at the glass with false apprehension, smiling inwardly at the look on Anna's face. The princess looked like she would explode with suspense. Elsa decided to take pity on her and took a sip. She coughed at the spicy flavor, but had to admit it was delicious.
As the queen and princess continued on in their two-woman train, Kristoff followed at a more slow-and-steady pace. Anna may have been moving faster, and dragging Elsa along at the same pace, but she stopped to stare and comment on every other sight. Kristoff simply followed, a smile on his face. He did not envy Elsa the role of being Anna's "market buddy", having experienced that many times even before they had been married.
Eventually, Anna stopped and let Elsa take a breather. The three, Kristoff having caught up, sat at an outdoor cafe, watching the sun set as they talked about everything they had done. Anna even tried to keep her babbling to a minimum, having learned a long time ago that "conversation" meant the others had to get a comment in every now and then.
As the sisters had their own conversation about this new thing called "white chocolate", Kristoff felt a strange chill run down his spine. It felt like he were being watched, or his wife and sister-in-law were. He quickly passed his gaze over the surrounding crowd, careful to not seem obvious. After a second sweep, his gaze settled on a man across the street sitting on a crate, wrapped in a brown cloak with his hood drawn up and a staff resting against his side.
Their rest over, Anna and Elsa stood to resume their "exploration". Kristoff watched the cloaked figure from the corner of his eye, instinct screaming at him that something was wrong. As he expected, the figure rose and began following them. He was close enough to keep them in his sights but far enough away to prevent anyone's suspicion. Anyone but Kristoff's. Grand Pabbie had always told him to trust his instincts, and that advice had never let him down. This man, whoever he was, had to go.
Kristoff hung back, falling further behind, until he was behind the hooded man's gaze. Kristoff threaded his way through the crowd, careful to keep Anna and Elsa in sight, as well. He came up behind the man and lunged for his shoulder … and cried out in surprise as he was spun around and pushed into a wall. The man had pivoted and swung the ice harvester around like a sack of grain, his forearm pressed against Kristoff's throat. "Do not touch me," the man growled. But Kristoff barely heard him.
The man's hood had come down in the struggle, freeing his eyes from the shadow of its cowl. Kristoff stared at those eyes, mismatched and blazing. Blue and gold, just as Anna had told him that morning. That gaze seemed to draw him in, draw the warmth from his blood like the waters under a frozen lake high in the mountains. So much pain, so much sorrow. How did this man get up in the morning?
The moment was broken when the man stiffened and looked away, sniffing the air like a hound catching scent. Like Sven when he sensed wolves or bears. The man let him go and told him to fetch the guards, then darted into the crowd. Kristoff could only stand there until he felt something, like icy claws digging into his back. Something really was wrong, but it wasn't that guy. A piercing shriek echoed from outside the town. Kristoff ran, but not to organize the guards.
He ran to protect his family.
Elsa lifted a glass to her lips, brimming with a new confection made by the local chocolatier, a mixture of warm milk and chocolate he called "hot cocoa". She prepared herself for the sweet taste … and dropped her glass in fear as a shrill cry sliced through the air around her, seeming to cut into her eardrums. Screams followed as people fled past them, away from the outskirts of town.
Elsa gasped in fear as she saw what had caused the commotion. A ragged line of figures strode with lurching steps, groaning and hissing as their eyes blazed with unearthly hate. The stench of decay washed over the queen, making her retch. Some part of her had to admit that Anna's description was spot on. It was what she had seen. The dead were walking, and they were invading Arendelle.
Anna, at the same time, was surprised by the arrival, but not by what it was. She had seen it before and so she skipped past the horror of the dead rising and shot straight to survival mode. She grabbed her sister's wrist, a dark reflection their careless fun mere seconds ago, and ran. Luckily, running was something she was really good at.
Well, she would have run if Elsa had moved. The queen was rooted in place, staring at the monsters drawing ever closer. "Elsa, come on! We have to go! Yes, they're real, now move!" Anna pulled and tugged and wrenched, but it was like trying to move an oak tree. Was Elsa really that scared? That thought frightened her more than the monsters did.
What Anna didn't see was Elsa's expression. There was no fear - there was only fury, and contempt. The queen jerked her arm from Anna's grasp and summoned her magic, the ice in her soul heeding the call with something almost like joy. She threw her arms up, icicles growing in the air, and thrust them down in a rain of frozen spears. Elsa's expression cleared and she took a step back, looking down at her hands in surprise and fear. She hadn't meant to do that. She had just … acted.
Elsa yelped as she felt someone scoop her up and run with her over their shoulder. Anna grinned shakily at her while hanging across their savior's other shoulder. It seemed Kristoff had found them and was taking them to safety. Elsa craned back her neck to look at the line of dead monsters and felt her stomach turn as she saw more climbing over their splintered fellows and running after them. Then again, maybe the nauseas feeling was the fact that she was being carried by a none-too-gentle ice harvester.
Elsa flinched at the sound of a great explosion and Kristoff let them slide off his shoulders. Elsa actually shriked in surprise. The bridge to the castle, to the people's best line of protection, had been destroyed! How?! That unearthly shrill cry slashed through the air again. The guards began herding the people to the ledge that led to the castle, as far away from the invading force as possible, and lining up to do their job.
The guards were all armed with long spears and iron-braced shields, defenses locked together into a strong wall with the spearheads pointing out. Elsa nodded at the technique, which she had devised herself with input from her guard captains. Though Elsa was diplomatic by nature, her father had always warned her to be wary of war. After Hans's attempt to usurp the throne, Elsa had taken this lesson to heart and had her guardsmen trained into an elite defensive force.
The guardsmen locked their shields and moved forward at a slow-but-steady pace. Elsa, thinking quickly, reached for the power inside her and spread her arms, her magic racing out to the sides of her and forming a strong foundation. She raised her hands up and created a tall wall of ice that would protect her people should the guards fall. She closed her fingers into an iron fist, strengthening the ice harder than steel. That task complete, Elsa looked forward to assess her men.
The guardsmen were keeping the corpses back, but little else. The monsters gave no reaction when the spear points struck them, hammering away at the guardsmen's shields in unmitigated violence. It had only been a few minutes since the groups had clashed, and the guardsmen were being driven back by the creatures' undead strength and superior numbers.
Staring at the corpses assaulting her men, Elsa felt that feeling from before rise in her gut, but this time different. She felt cold determination and resolve, like the cold mountain she had fled to two years ago. She absently felt her magic act on its own, weaving itself over her dress to form a new one.
Anna and Kristoff gaped as frost wove itself over Elsa, forming a thick dress with divided skirts, armored at the shoulders and along the arms and legs. Armored gloves covered her hands and thick boots her feet. A thick cape formed hanging from her shoulders, faux-fur of hoarfrost wrapping her neck. And on her brow grew a crown of ice, spiked with icicles and completing the image of war. An image of the implacable Snow Queen who would destroy all in her way.
Elsa dove into her magic and summoned a raging wind that drove the tide of creatures back. She strode with confidence she didn't realize she had between her awestruck guards and spread her arms, palms up. Above the queen grew a legion of ice-spears and with a flick of her wrist they darted into the mass of corpses, striking chests and limbs and heads. Some stayed down, most rose again. Elsa focused and struck the ground with her armored boot, sending a line of spikes roaring forward into the crowd and spearing a dozen more. Some still twitched, but the rest went still. And yet it was a single bite from the horse.
The corpses surged forward without hesitation, snarling and gnashing their teeth. Elsa kept up the pressure, adamant to never let these things touch her people. But the force that had motivated her was fading, and her skills were untrained. She felt her psyche returning to normal, fear replacing resolve. The guardsmen approached as her attacks slowed and surrounded her, relieved and ready to fight again. They clashed with the wave and held, but their creatures' numbers seemed endless. Even with Elsa's powers stemming the tide, their victory seemed far from certain. Soon, something would give …
A corpse got past the shield wall and lunged for Elsa. And before she could react the monster was speared out of the air, a large blade sticking from its chest as it twitched and went still. The thing was flung aside to reveal her savior: a young man with black hair, dressed in a hooded blue cloak and mouth set in a fearsome scowl. Elsa took a step back on sheer instinct as his gaze locked with hers.
The young man's spearhead shimmered and faded away as he spun his staff above his head, the wood glowing with blue light. He let out a piercing cry and plunged his staff into the ground, cracking the cobblestones. A blue letter blazed over his staff and ropes of fire surged from it, growing into walls of pure destruction. The curtains of flame burned blue and enveloped every monster in sight, cooking them to ash and cinders. And as quickly as they had appeared, the flames vanished, leaving only swirling clouds of ash where nightmares had been and blackened ruts where the fires had raged.
Elsa stood stunned for a moment, marveling at the scene before her. Her trance was broken by the sound of something falling beside her. She looked to see the man who had saved them spread out on the ground. Elsa gasped and knelt beside him, checking for a heartbeat. His heart was beating like a horse's despite his clear exhaustion. The man stirred and fumbled at his belt-pouch, removing something small. A stone figure of a rearing horse. Wait, what was wrong with it's legs?
The man tossed the figurine to the side and it cracked in two. Green mist began to emerge from the fragments, rapidly growing into a cloud of fog that dispersed to reveal a large grey horse, clad in leather riding gear. The beast approached and the man grasped its reins, the horse yanking him up and into the saddle. And like an arrow from a bow, the horse shot forward, out of sight in mere seconds.
Elsa was quickly surrounded by guards, fussing over her health, thanking her for her aide, complimenting her prowess. Elsa shook it all off and demolished her ice wall, the barrier dissolving into snowflakes that danced in the wind and out to sea. The people cheered and rushed forward, enveloping the guards and their queen.
Back in somewhat familiar territory, Elsa called for them to return to their homes, her voice carrying over the shouting of the crowd. The people quieted down under the orders of their queen and began to slowly disperse, occasionally still shouting praises of their queen.
That done, Elsa approached the ruins of the bridge to her home. She wove a replacement of ice, rough to prevent accidents, and told one of the guards to inform the royal masons that they had a new job of utmost importance.
Elsa started at a hand on her shoulder, but relaxed when she saw it was Anna. The princess smiled with equal sadness, fear, and pride and embraced her sister. Elsa melted into the hug, drawing strength from the redhead. Anna drew back and looked Elsa in the eyes, as a sister rather than a princess.
"Who was that?" Anna asked, though not in fear.
"I don't know," Elsa replied. "But I get the feeling we will find out soon enough."
Alphonse clutched at the ethereal horse's reins and fought at the waves of fatigue that washed over him, each more powerful than the last. In no time at all, they had reached the woods that surrounded the town. After a few more moments, the horse slowed and stopped, allowing Alphonse to shakily dismount and collapse against a tree. The horse that had carried him neighed and reverted to mist, the haze swirling and condensing until it left another stone figurine.
Alphonse trembled with sudden cold, his body was still charged with the power of Creation. But that unnatural energy barely held back the crushing weariness from using that very same magic. The mage's chest heaved, his body starved of oxygen and his muscles burning like the fires he had conjured. A small part of his mind that was still coherent berated himself for doing something so … unnecessarily huge.
Finally, after what seemed like hours but was more likely less than a minute, he passed out cold into a dreamless sleep. As he slept, he was unaware of the pair of birds that watched over him.
What did ya'll think? Leave a review if you liked the action