"Whoa." Anna breathes as Caiden hauls out yet another stack of books from that secret room. The scent of dust and dried parchment permeating hers and Elsa's nose as they peer inside.

"Look at all of this." Elsa mutters from her spot at the table.

"I'm looking." The sheer awe turns her voice into a breath of exhale.

The room had been as Michael described, tucked into the corner of their library for so long. The books he scoured from the room Caiden brought in first, and one title in particular caught Elsa's attention.

Magical Arts: Dangers of dark Magic.

It was so hard to believe that their father had been studying magic. The room itself offered little more than a few dried herbs and stuffy cobwebs, but Caiden scoured every inch of that square space. With his face having such a heavy concentrated expression, it quickly opened Elsa's mind to the reasons as to why he excelled as an elite soldier.

Having his presence here as, different, compared to Michael. There was this cocoon of silence radiating from the shadow weaver. And yet, it was comfortable. Not so suffocating that Elsa or Anna felt the urge to speak something to break tension, but the same silence found in a library – one made out of respect and privacy.

And yet, Elsa won't – or rather can't – the odd sensation that she feels around him. the way his magic seemed to caress her own, and yet push her away. Sometimes inviting, seconds later cold and withdrawn.

In the hour they've been here in the library, Elsa would try to steal glances at Caiden, wondering if he too could feel that pull between their magic. Olaf since has busied himself with a book on trivial facts while Kristoff excused himself to head to the stables to check on Sven.

Their charades game this time was held in one of the parlors since Caiden was using the library for research. Elsa was distracted to say the least: Michael and Danika had been gone for hours and still haven't returned. Even the servant hadn't bothered to set a place for them at the table. Nevertheless, even if she hadn't been distracted by his absence, they would've won since Olaf and Sven insisted they be a team.

Elsa looks to Caiden again, those shadows having retreated. She also wonders what those shadows are whispering about her when she sees a faint tendril of it curl around his ear. Would they know of her past: how she blanketed her own kingdom in an eternal winter; would they know of her fear her powers poisoned her with since a young age?

Caiden didn't seem to let on much, his face a perfect mask of indifference.

Throughout their time here, he's scared the sisters more than twice with how quiet his feet are. Barely a disturbance in the stifling air, just a whisper of fabric and suddenly he's hovering over Elsa's shoulder reading the pages of the book set in front of her.

After seeing the book that held the runes of Northuldra, neither Elsa nor Anna were particularly pleased to see how well it matched the ones Michael drew at the first murder. It only brought back the images of the story their father told them. Caiden offered his reassurance, suggesting that there is still a high possibility that they aren't the direct match.

As he sits across from Elsa now, Anna still scrounging through the room for anything interesting, Elsa lifts her gaze from the book before her. "Can I ask you something, Caiden?"

She tries to hide her flinch as those crimson eyes flick to her. "Of course, Your Majesty."

"With how your magic works, do the shadows actually whisper things to you?"

A cold yet amused smile has Elsa ready to just drop the subject. But he says, "I'm sorry, I'm a little confused. My shadow abilities don't have me hearing whispers, if that's what you're implying. I simply use them to my advantage of camouflage."

"Oh, I see." She folds her lips in, trying to ignore the warmth flooding to her cheeks.

"Something on your mind?"

Her heart skips a beat when Caiden folds his book closed. She feels conflicted about having the shadow weaver's full attention.

"Well, the woman who's been terrorizing our kingdom, terrorizing Michael, she has a dark ability like yourself. I was just wondering if there was any correlation."

"There are different kinds of darkness," Caiden says. "There is the darkness that frightens, the darkness that soothes, the darkness that is restful." Elsa pictures each. "There is the darkness of lovers, and the darkness of assassins. It becomes what the bearer wishes it to be, needs it to be. It is not wholly bad or good."

"What about the kind that, invades minds?" she pushes. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Anna leaning against the threshold of the secret room.

"That, I do not know. But with Dark Magic, anything is possible. That kind of ability is rare, but not unheard of. Much like the shifters, they were hunted into extinction for their abilities, as such was heavily associated with the craft."

"Do you remember their name? If they had one?"

The shadow weaver shakes his head. "I'm afraid I do not, Your Majesty."

"Please, just call me Elsa."

A dip of his chin. "As you wish. The gift of darkness has many possibilities, has many ways it can evolve. And even so, some are still being discovered. The only common root that we've found is the association with demons, or other worldly beings."

"Other worldly?" asks Elsa.

"How so?" asks Anna.

Caiden adjusts himself to lean back into his seat, crossing his legs. "Well, it's a bit difficult to explain." He says, "I guess the foundation would be runes. They are the most powerful form of magic. Raw magic; able to be shaped and manipulated into whatever the wielder decides. They can be used for a variety of things, both good and bad. Runes also have the ability to open portals to other realms with disturbing ease, among other things. One in particular being of a very, fiery sort. Here demons reside and dwell among their kind, being despicable in their existence. Sometimes when those portals are open, it might as well be like a lighthouse beacon. And it can be very seductive, and they will try to cross through that portal."

Elsa fights a shiver that spider-crawls down her spine.

"If they do, whoever is on the other side of it is going to have a terrible time."

"They can possess someone? Just like that?" Anna asks.

"If the wielder is vulnerable and unsuspecting. And depending on the scenario I suppose, the demon could gain control of the wielder's magic, or the wielder could gain the abilities of the demon. Of course, this is a small example of what else lies out there. Not all other worlds are bad. There a those who house our loved ones, and some that just are. Ones that exist in between even the rifts."

Elsa leans back in her own chair astonished. "All of that can be achieved with just the runes?"

Caiden nods, grimly if Elsa read him right. "Runes have been around for centuries; sought out by thousands because of what they provide. Of the barrier they break between those born with or without magic. It can make them stronger, or give them the gifts they've so desired. I've seen plenty of people even tattoo themselves with such markings as means to greaten their power."

"But if that well of power exists for magic wielders, what about those who don't?" Elsa asks, Anna now taking a seat next to her as Olaf wanders into the secret room.

A contemplative expression, his eyes flicking to one corner of the room while he purses his full lips. The golden sheen of his hair ripples as a few strands fall over his eyes.

If she has to admit, Caiden is quite stunning. In more ways than one even for an immortal.

Gods, she still can't wrap her mind around that.

He is immortal. Long lived.

How many years will he live once they've all turned to dust? How will he watch the world change?

After a moment, he says, "I suppose it comes down to willpower, as that is the same essence as the well of magic. Both mentally and physically. It's not easy, and I've watched too many lose their minds in trying to control it."

"Can anyone ever control it?" Anna asks, though to no one in particular.

"As far as I've seen, many have tried. All have failed, in one way or another. Even so the effects a possession can have can be deadly, so much so that the user may become dependent on the being to live. Oh, you look rather ill."

Elsa blinks, not realizing her gaze had gone far off, Anna thought did look rather pale.

The grandfather chimes eleven, and both Elsa and Anna jump at the chime that rings throughout the library. Caiden resumes his reading, unbothered.

"Well, unfortunately on that note, I think I will turn in." Elsa says as she places her palms on the arms of her chair.

"I apologize if I unsettled you." Caiden says, clapping the book shut with one hand. The light of the sconces does wonders to exaggerate the veins that branch their way into his fingers.

She can see his own little scars wrapping around his hand like vines, disappearing under the sleeve of his tunic. The same tunic he wore at dinner, as a matter of fact. She almost chuckled seeing him in his formal attire when simply readying in their library.

"No. No, it isn't that." Elsa stutters.

She folds her arms around herself and casts a glance towards the doors that lead to the small balcony overlooking the courtyard. The doors she looked through when she was getting ready for her coronation.

She doesn't see anything; can't hear anything for the life of her.

Following her gaze, Caiden rises from his seat – a hush of whispering fabric. "I'm sure they're fine. Those two can get their way out of any situation."

"Doesn't mean I still can't worry."

He walks past her towards the secret room, his brush of air smelling of elderberries and campfire smoke. Elsa cringes as she feels a ghost of a thin wind trail up her spine. "What time did they say they'd be back?"

"Midnight," Elsa answers as she walks over to the balcony. "It's part of the reason why I want to get ready for bed. Maybe it'll take my mind off of things until they get back."

Olaf suddenly chirps as he waddles over the couch. "And what if they don't get back by then?"

"Olaf!" Anna snipes, the little snowman jerking up from a vial holding a brown liquid of gods-know-what. Her sister, bless her heart, walks over to her and brushes her hands along Elsa's arms. "Elsa, don't worry. We've seen the way Michael can fight. And if Danika is as good as he says, we have nothing to worry about."

Elsa sighs and shakes her head, gently peeling herself from her sister's touch. "He shouldn't have gone looking for her."

"Well, why didn't you say anything?"

"Like anything I said would've stopped him."

"She makes a point." Caiden chimes. "Michael can be as stubborn as the day is long."

"It's not just that: he's so ill-prepared to face this woman, or whatever she is. I'm worried he's going in blind."

"Well, the good knew is, if she wanted to kill him, she would've done it at the temple. But for some reason she wanted to awaken the magic he had lying dormant. The real question is: why did she awaken it, and what does she want with it?"

"It doesn't make much sense," says Anna as she returns to her seat. Elsa heading for the door. "Michael's fire is such a contrast to her darkness; he probably poses the biggest threat to her. Why even bother awakening it?"

"And why not kill him once she did? These are the things we should be looking at." Caiden looks to her again, that crimson stare not becoming any less chilling. "I don't think she's going to kill him, at least not yet. She wants something from him, what that is, that's why he left to find out."

"I would have felt better if the three of you had gone," Elsa says as she places her hand on the door handle.

Caiden snorts. "And leave you unguarded? Yeah right; he would've never allowed that to happen."

"We're not completely defenseless, Caiden." Elsa dares to say, biting her tongue with instant regret.

Without looking up from his book, he answers, "No, you're just inexperienced and untrained. Which can be just as deadly as overly-confident."

Elsa huffs, even if the shadow weaver's smile makes her feel warm. "I'll be in my rooms. Come find me when he returns, okay?"

Caiden look up to her with a heartbreakingly gentle smile. "Of course, Elsa. Don't worry. He'll come back."

A breath of hesitation.

"Goodnight."

Anna has no doubt that Elsa could waste an hour simply getting ready for bed. A shower alone would be thirty minutes, the only troubling thing is that it's eleven-thirty and Michael hasn't come back yet, nor has Kai come and told them of his arrival. Anna finds herself growing nervous for Elsa.

It tore her up to see her sister so distracted and bothered by Michael being so gone. And she had to admit to herself, it did feel a little odd not having him around, even for the short span of a few hours.

Even at dinner, her sister's eyes would constantly be on all the doors of the room when they weren't on her plate. Caiden had ordered his food to the be in the library, and while Anna liked having just the three of them eating at the table, it felt so, empty.

Olaf has since fallen asleep at the bay window. His little snoring rattling the pages of the book facing down on his carrot nose.

Caiden claps another book shut and tosses it onto another stack with a disappointed sigh. He takes a long stretch as he props his feet up on the edge of the table. Anna is beyond chastising him for his manners. Not to mention she did the same thing about an hour ago.

At this point, they're coming close to their combing through the books available in the secret room. It yielded very little, and in a way, Anna is relieved. She couldn't imagine how she would react to learn her father had gained some skill in learning magic. Or at least understanding it, for Elsa's sake.

As she looks up from the scattering of papers she gathered from the small desk inside the room, she taps a finger on the oakwood table. "Do you mind if I ask you a question now, Caiden?"

A small chuckle as he thumbs through the pages of the next book. "Of course not, Your Highness."

"Anna." She smiles.

"Right."

"It's a bit personal, I hope you don't mind."

A shrug. "Depends. Ask."

She gives a little chuckle herself. "You've been friends with Michael for a long time, it seems. Enough to know how he is."

"Yes . . ."

"Well, how confident are you in his fighting skills? Because Elsa and I, we've only heard stories here and there about what he did. The things he's seen . . . and I want to know if there's any truth behind it."

Caiden lowers his feet from the table. "Anna, I've fought alongside Michael for years during the war in our kingdom. And before that I fought against him, as well. And I stand by what I said at the table. I would not want to cross blades with him anytime soon."

The shadow weaver's face softens in a way that almost makes Anna balk. It only emphasizes the handsomeness of his features, his golden hair shining as he brushes a few strands out of his face.

"Michael will be fine. If there's one thing I can say with confidence, it's that he can get himself out of any situation."

"Elsa seems so worried about him. And her being worried has me starting to worry now too."

"He'll be fine. And if somehow, he's still not back by midnight, we'll go out looking for him. How about that?"

Anna nods with an agreeing shrug. She gathers the papers, tapping them against the desk to get them into an organized pile. They should wrap up for tonight. No doubt both of their eyes are starting to dry, half of the words are blurring across the page.

She's about to say as much, but then Caiden's chair abruptly shrieks against the wooden floor.

When he stands, Anna suddenly realizes how tall he is.

Anna looks up and finds him staring at the doors leading to the single person balcony overlooking the courtyard. Anna stands with sudden excitement.

Maybe Michael and Danika have finally returned. She should go and tell Elsa, and she gathers the papers to put them back into the room when Caiden suddenly orders, "Stay there."

"What?"

"Stay there," he repeats, the shift in his tone is enough to ice her in place; her feet immobilized by the swift change.

She's smart enough to drop her voice to a whisper as she asks, "What's going on?"

The doors to the balcony start to rattle, a pitched whistling of the wind searing through the crevice. Anna almost chuckles, thinking the shadow weaver is simply paranoid.

But something in her heart knew better.

Knew better than to question his skills. Knew better than to mock a man who was half-demon with immortality.

Then something on the other side barrels into the door.

The entire thing shudders.

Anna shrieks as her fingers shake, dropping the papers to her feet. Olaf suddenly jerks awake, the book toppling to the floor.

"What in hell—"

"Get inside the room," Caiden commands, not daring to take his eyes off the door as it shudders. As the handle rattles. "Get in—now."

Olaf scurries over without any argument, to her surprise. He scurries over to her side, grasping her leg like a small child. Her breath is escaping in sharp sobs as she screams at her feet to move. They do, but not at the pace she nor Caiden expected. She slowly moves, her feet like lead as fear weighs her down. As the darkness beyond the balcony suddenly starts to shift and turn.

Those doors are solid glass.

They could break any second.

Dread and panic curl in her gut, ripping the breath from her throat.

"Anna," Caiden says evenly. Calmly. He looks to her, holding her gaze. Steadying her. A sword he'd expertly concealed beneath his clothes, now rests in his hand. "Get inside the room. I'll handle this."

Somehow her body nods, and as she slowly steps her way towards the secret room, Caiden takes mirroring steps back, shielding her as she moves with fear-gripped slowness. Olaf takes her hand; she presses the snowman deeper into her leg.

Another heavy bang on the doors.

She could've sworn she hear glass crack.

Caiden practically shoves her and Olaf into the room, hitting whatever mechanism that has the panel closing her in.

Gods, to be alone, here – while he's out there fighting, whatever that thing is –!

"Deep breaths," he tells her. "Center yourself. Fear will get you killed."

Anna obeys.

"Take this dagger."

Anna balks at the weapon he hands her.

"Do it."

She grabs the dagger, the metal cool and heavy in her hand. Unwieldy.

The balcony door shudders beneath a blow. Then another.

The handle shakes and shakes.

Oh, gods.

They hadn't bothered with the front door. They knew they were in the library.

They knew –

Another bang that has her flinching away. Another.

Anna's dagger trembles as Caiden angles himself to the balcony door, his blade unwavering.

Another bang, furious and raging.

Then—a voice.

Soft and hissing, neither male nor female.

"Anna," it whispers through the crack in the door. She can hear the smile in its voice as it draws out her name. "Anna."

Her blood goes cold. It's not a human voice.

"What is it you want," Caiden says, his own voice like steel.

"Anna."

Then through the glass of the balcony doors, a pair of glowing red eyes blinks at them. No other physical shape. Just those ungodly eyes.

Anna's knees buckle so wildly she can barely stand. Every moment of training she'd done slithers right out of her head.

"Get out," Caiden snarls toward the door. "Before you regret it."

"Anna," it hisses, laughing a bit. "Anna."

Clapping her free hand over her mouth, Anna sinks onto the stone floor, tucked under a corner of the desk pushed against the far-left wall. Caiden is about to let the door close, but Anna somehow manages to wedge a book between the walls, leaving an inch-wide crack to show her the room.

The thing on the other side of the door growls. The doorknob rattles.

"Anna," it repeats.

Caiden peers at the two of them through the crack, his face still a mask of unnerving calm with his back wholly to the door now. Even though she knew he monitored every sound and movement behind it. "I'll buy you whatever time I can, but you have to run. No arguments."

"Anna!" the thing snaps on the other side of the door, slamming into it.

Again.

And again.

And again.

"ANNA!" it roars, the voice shrill and hollow.

Again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Caiden disappears from view, a sob escaping Anna as Olaf huddles into her chest, her legs entrapping him as the door mercilessly shudders.

And then, silence.

Palpitating. Suffocating. Ear-ringing silence.

She can't hear Caiden's feet, the shadow weaver's skills beyond her comprehension.

He waits, calculating. Sensing. A predator poised to strike.

Anna's dagger still trembles as she holds Olaf close to her. The snowman too is quivering with fear.

A crash sounds through the room—followed by shouting.

Then a glimpse of fangs and claws and darkness.