Chapter Five: Flight and Family
Alphonse's sleep was void of dreams, a long stretch of merciful oblivion that seemed to last mere seconds. His peace was shattered as a loud noise pierced the protective fog of his rest. A loud tapping that echoed in his ears and skull. A sound he knew well and considered unwelcome.
Knowing in the depths of his addled brain what would come soon after, Alphonse stretched his body and worked the kinks out of his muscles, his spine popping a worrying number of times. He blindly reached into his leather satchel and fumbled around for a flask of water and some jerky. As he removed them, he sighed and relaxed again, his body pulling him back into the folds of sleep.
Before he could fall back into slumber, he felt a pair of thin feet on his chest, right under his collarbone, that dug into his flesh through his shirt. A sharp object began jabbing into his forehead. With a grunt of pain, Alphonse opened his eyes and shooed the creature away, checking his forehead for blood and relieved when he found none. He glared at the creature settled beside him, a pitch-black raven.
"What?" he asked the bird. "What do you want so urgently?" The bird croaked and hopped forward, eliciting a flinch from the mage. Somehow the bird looked smug as it preened it feathers and ruffled them with an air of vanity.
"I wish to show you the fruits of your labor," the raven answered in a smooth, cultured voice. The raven hopped into the air and settled on Alphonse's head and dug its talons into his ebony hair, nearly pulling it from his scalp, and froze stiff as a statue.
Alphonse gasped and felt his stomach heave, his Awareness being torn from his body and dragged into the air by the raven's spirit like a mouse in the claws of a falcon. Alphonse's vision became sharper as the world became blurry, distorted like in his Dreams. The experience would have given him a headache if he were still in his body.
Alphonse saw a black blur shoot past him, the other one, before he was circling over the courtyard of Arendelle Castle. His vision seemed to naturally focus on the small group in the courtyard, as if drawn by a magnet. He saw two women and a man, plus a reindeer and a … was that snowman moving around on its own?!
Alphonse's hearing caught up to him, sharper just like his vision. "Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" he overheard the queen say. The princess giggled and assured her that it was fine.
"We'll be alright, Elsa," the man said. The princess's husband, Alphonse decided. "If anyone can explain what those monsters were, it's Grand Pabbie." Alphonse couldn't help but notice a touch of warmth in the man's tone. Oh right, Pabbie had said his grandson had married the princess.
"And maybe he'll tell us something about that guy in the cloak," the princess added. "It would be awesome to have another magician in the castle!"
The queen seemed to fold her arms. "He's not a puppy to be adopted, Anna. for all we know, he's as dangerous to us as he is to those monsters." The queen paused. "Besides, I'm not a magician. I don't know what you would call me, but I refuse that title. It sounds … undignified."
The princess giggled again and hugged the queen before promising to be back before dark and climbing into the sled as it shot off and through the town, heading for the trail that led up the mountain. The queen returned to the castle, her posture not quite certain, yet not unhappy either.
Alphonse's vision swung back around and fell in a deep dive for the trees around Arendelle, through the branches and …
His body convulsed as his Awareness was plunged back into its rightful place. He turned and gagged, only the fact that there was nothing to retch up keeping him from being sick. He took a moment to settle his heartbeat and turned back to glare at the raven, now accompanied by its twin.
"You know how much I hate that," he almost-shouted, pointing at them in accusation. The ravens' heads turned to regard each other before they broke out into croaks and craws; it was their version of laughter and would have been funny if it were not so unsettling. After a few moments, their laughs cut off like it had been sliced by a knife and they regarded him seriously.
"Your little stunt last night has gotten people moving around. And when that happens, the enemy takes notice," the left raven said, it's voice harsh and commanding like a commander or drill sergeant, utterly unlike the other's voice. A scar over its left eye was the only difference between the two besides their voices.
Alphonse grimaced and tried to suppress a growl of frustration. He had been dealing with these two since the incident sixteen years ago, much to his chagrin. And yet after all that time, after all they had taught him, they still treated him like a child still wet behind the ears. As if they didn't really need him, though they all knew that was anything but true.
"Well, I couldn't just let all those people die, now could I?" he asked, his voice almost dripping with sarcasm and scorn in equal amounts. "You two always talk about protecting people from the things that survived the Doom of your kind. How exactly is what I did not 'protecting'?" The birds seemed to pause at his words and regarded each other in a silent conversation.
"Munin," the soft-spoken one said, "why don't you keep an eye on the sled? They might be followed, after all. I'll handle this." Alphonse sighed at being spoken of as if his concerns were unworthy of note, as if he were not even there. Munin looked at him before bobbing his head in a nod.
"I think I shall do just that," he said before darting into the air, wheeling his way toward the distant mountains. Alphonse picked up his staff and began making his way back to town, munching on his jerky before washing it down with water from his flask. For a moment he wished for something a bit stronger.
The remaining raven flew after him and settled on his shoulder, swaying in time to his movements. The bird waited a moment before addressing him. "You know that we are only looking out for you, yes?" he asked gently.
"Don't patronize me, Hugin," Alphonse said, spitting the raven's name like a curse. "You don't care about me, at least not for myself. You only care about me at all because I act on your so-called mission."
The raven, Hugin, hesitated before nodding in acceptance. "What you say is true," he replied, "we do care for the mission, likely above all else. And you are our agent in that cause." He paused for effect - the bird had always had an annoying sense for dramatics. "But that doesn't mean we haven't grown attached to you," he added.
Alphonse hardened his heart against the honey-smooth words. Hugin had always been good at calming him down, at swaying him toward his and Munin's way of thinking. Especially when he was young (well, younger) and impressionable. Alphonse's experiences with them during his teenage years were evidence of his skill at reassurance. But Alphonse had learned long ago better than to fully trust him or his brother.
The raven's name meant "thought", and Alphonse had always found that title fitting for a creature that seemed able to read his own.
Hugin leapt off his shoulder and into the sky as Alphonse entered the edges of Arendelle. He took note of his surroundings, memorizing the town's layout should he need anything before he inevitably left. Vendors were preparing to present their wares and proper shops were slowly beginning to open. Alphonse thought he heard the ringing of a smithy in the distance. He tried to ignore it, the sound trudging up painful memories.
As a unit of guards came into view, marching through their rounds as they watched for suspicious behavior and listened for cries of distress, Alphonse focused on his cloak. The enchanted material shifted its colors from deep blue to a drab brown that blended in to the wool of surrounding citizens. The guards passed him without so-much as a sideways glance.
As Alphonse neared the bridge that led to the castle, he was surprised to find that security had been increased. On second thought, he really shouldn't have been so surprised. The gates were open, but guards were positioned at the patched bridge's entrance, ready to protect the castle and it inhabitants.
In response to the guards' presence, Alphonse hung back and descended to the rocky shores underneath the bridge. He took a moment to appreciate the the beauty of the ice and the details carved into it, such as the crocus of Arendelle, before settling on one of the rocks and gazing over the fjord. After a brief moment, Hugin fluttered down and perched on another boulder.
"What would you have me do?" he asked curiously. He was unlikely to agree, but the bird was infuriatingly clever and his advice, while often coldly pragmatic and occasionally bordering on brutal, was still worthwhile to listen to.
"Find the Snow Queen and strike up trust," the raven answered. "The woman and her family are the center of the events in Arendelle. You will need her trust in order to move forward, to foil this plot that is unfolding before us." And with that cheery sentiment, the bird flew off and into the sun, preventing Alphonse for tracking where he would go.
Alphonse bit back a growl of irritation. Hugin's advice was acceptable, but it would be nice to get an answer that wasn't so cryptic, just once. He wondered briefly if it would kill him just once to be straightforward and decided that it probably would.
Alphonse popped his neck and climbed back up to the town proper, staff in hand, and headed straight for the guards. The ravens like their games, moving people along like pieces on a chess board, but manipulation is what arguably led to the Doom of their kind in the first place. Alphonse resolved to do this his way.
He would be honest.
Anna and Kristoff walked through the familiar mists surrounding the Valley of Living Rock arm-in-arm, enjoying each other's company while mulling over what they would asked the troll chief. It was some time before noon (they had made excellent time) so the trolls would be in shadow, allowing them to wake up.
As the happy couple strode into the Valley proper, the trolls unfurled and cheered their arrival. It always amounted to a small celebration when Anna and Kristoff visited, though Anna doubted the trolls needed much excuse to celebrate anything.
The couple mingled with the trolls, laughing and catching up. Before the trolls could start one of their famous musical numbers, Kristoff addressed the other reason for their visit. The trolls quieted down as Anna began, captivated by the story of Elsa fighting the monsters before a mysterious hooded figure finished them off and vanished. The crowd was silent until another troll rolled forward, unfolding to reveal Grand Pabbie. The troll greeted them warmly and led them further into the Valley, eventually arriving at a large cave set into the crags of the mountain. Closer inspection revealed that the cave had most likely been dug out by the trolls themselves.
Grand Pabbie turned to address his grandson and and the princes, his expression somehow both grave and warm at the same time. "It seems you have had quite the encounter with the draugr, one suitable for the epic tales of times long past," he said. Kristoff and Anna shared a glance, both chuckling at the understatement.
"Yeah," Anna answered, "we really need to learn more about those drag-dro- whatever they are."
Pabbie nodded and led the way into the cave, illuminated by glowing crystals. Anna and Kristoff marveled at the images carved into the walls: monsters and beasts, heroes and conquerors, objects and animals. Every image was surrounded by the flowing, vine-like swirls that made up troll writing. Kristoff could decipher a little of it in passing, and what he could see made him shiver. Some of this stuff was pretty dark.
After a few minutes, Pabbie stopped before a carving of a pale corpse, the spitting image of a draugr that seemed to shamble despite being carved into the stone. "A draugr," Pabbie explained, "is the deceased body of a human whose soul refuses to move on. They retain some purpose that they desire to fulfil and so remain in the world of the living to do so.
"Draugr often desire revenge for some great perceived wrong, such as their murder or that of a loved one. Revenge is a powerful thing to the dead. Some draugr desire to protect the ones they love from harm, their love for that person twisted into a dangerous force. And still others desire to protect treasure from those who would take it, motivated by greed." The troll chief moved on to an image of a draugr fighting a man armed with a sword.
"Draugr are inhumanly strong and feel no pain or fear, these things left behind with their passing. Caught between life and death as they are, they can move through stone like water, and can find the focus of their ire over any distance. Though difficult, they can be destroyed. Pure iron burns their unnatural nature, and they can be killed again with fire or decapitation. Their hold on this life is severed and they are forced to move on."
Anna mulled over what Grand Pabbie had said, questions growing in her head like mushrooms after a heavy rain. "So if they want revenge, why would they go after me and Elsa? We haven't done anything to them." A scary thought crossed the princess's mind. "Did we?" Pabbie shook his head, alleviating her fears.
"It is true that draugr usually attack with purpose, though that purpose can sometimes be hard to divine. However, their very nature being trapped between two worlds leaves them vulnerable to being enslaved by a learned sorcerer. I, as well as another knowledgeable in these things, believe someone has taken control of these draugr, perhaps even forcibly made some of them, to take revenge on you both."
As Anna tried to figure out who with that kind of power would have a grudge against her or Elsa, Kristoff picked up on one word. "Another?" he asked. "You mean the man in the blue cloak, right?" Pabbie smiled warmly at his grandson. Kristoff may not look it at first, but the ice harvester was sharp as a tack despite lacking a formal education. One could argue that this freedom of mind made him more open to intuition. Pabbie nodded in acknowledgement of Kristoff's observation.
"Less than a day ago, a young man visited me to learn what he could about the events rising in Arendelle. The man wore a blue hooded cloak and carried a staff of ashwood carved with ancient runes. And most strangely, he possessed eyes of differing color, one blue and one gold." The shaman's eyes grew somber. "This man walks a dangerous path, fighting the darkness that remains from … other times. And his path is even lonelier than you know, princess."
Anna's eyes widened at the shaman's words, knowing Pabbie would never make a comparison like that lightly. She shared a look with Kristoff before asking their last question, the last piece of advice they needed. "Can we trust him?" she asked softly. While it was in Anna's nature to trust people, her ordeal with Hans had taught her to temper that nature with caution.
"I believe you can trust the man himself just as much as you trust each other," Pabbie answered. "He has endured immeasurable suffering in his life, but his heart remains pure." Pabbie's gaze took on a hard cast. "But be warned. He is guided by forces that, while not malicious, should not be trusted so easily."
Pabbie led them out of the cave and back to the entrance of the Valley. As they approached, the Valley slowly became lighter, the sun rising overhead to shine into the trolls' haven. "I know you have much to think about, my children," Pabbie said, "but allow me to give one last piece of advice." The troll regarded them with a strange balance of seriousness and subtle humor. "Trust in Alphonse. He will help you, and he will help Elsa. In more ways than one, I suspect." As the troll shaman chuckled at these words, he folded back into a boulder, his chuckles seeming to persist through the wind.
Kristoff led the way back to the sled and on the way back down the mountain Anna couldn't help but puzzle over Pabbie's last words? In more ways than one. What could he have meant?
New chapter. R&R