Arendelle had never faced a snowstorm before.

Standing tall and proud on a big fjord among the mountains of the far north, it had always had a natural warmth to its vast waters.

The Winter it had was never too harsh and was always showered with light sprinkles of snowflakes only resembling a drizzle of rain.

So, Seulgi really didn’t know why there was suddenly a strong, terrifying snowstorm happening outside.

She was barely six years old, but even she knew that something was not right.

It made her twitch on her seat as she stared out of the castle’s window worriedly, thinking of her father who had gone out of the palace a little earlier today for a duty and also of the poor animals left outside.

It wasn’t until Mr. Gregory, her grey-haired History teacher, cleared his throat loudly that Seulgi snapped back to attention and sat straight.

“Princess Seulgi,” the man chided her slowly, “Could you perhaps, repeat what I have just said about the origin of the Land of Dawn for the past ten minutes?”

Seulgi winced and flashed him her best guilty grin. “Uh, something about an evil sorceress named Hela and her good sister fighting, Mr. Gregory?”

Mr. Gregory looked unimpressed.

“It was not simply a fight, Princess. Now, now, I shall retell you the story. Hopefully, you will listen this time. It is important that our future Queen understands our history.”

Seulgi sighed but nodded. She really didn’t like the long lessons. However, she did want to become the Queen of Arendelle one day when her father would be too tired of working.

There was no special reason to it. Seulgi just loved the kingdom with all her heart and wanted to help the people of Arendelle to her best ability.

So, she sat taller and tried to really listen this time despite how lengthy the lesson was and how loud the snowstorm was raging outside.

“Long ago, or some would say, millennia ago,” Mr. Gregory began, “there existed nothing in the universe but cold air and dust. Watching over this nothingness were two Goddess sisters who then decided to create something. Hela the Goddess of Earth created earth where we stand today, while Atalea the Goddess of Life culminated life on it, including ours.”

Seulgi blinked, trying to memorize everything she heard.

“For a few centuries, Hela, Atalea and their creations existed in harmony. However, the Goddesses fell into strong disagreement one day. Hela demanded control over mankind, while Atalea wanted free will for her creations. They descended into wars, scarring earth with a massive destruction like no other before. Hela pulled from the deepest core of earth and summoned beastly, dark creatures with her. Monsters, wraiths and evil sorceresses swarmed the Land of Dawn. And to defend against her sister’s dark army, Atalea bestowed a group of chosen humans her own magic. They were called The Guardians.”

Mr. Gregory shivered a bit and Seulgi realized that it wasn’t from the fear of his own folklore.

The temperature in the room had dropped that low following the strange snowstorm outside.

Seulgi didn’t really feel the cold – strange – but when she turned to look briefly at the windowpane, she noticed that a thin layer of frigid ice had begun to spread on it.

Her forehead crinkled in confusion.

Does snowstorm normally do that?

“What happened to them at the end, Mr. Gregory?” She turned back to the old man again, who had put on a coat. “Are they still around until today?”

She shuddered a bit at the thought of an evil Goddess and an army of dark creatures lurking around somewhere inside Arendelle or outside.

“They are no longer around, Princess. At the end of the war, Atalea won and banished Hela from the Land of Dawn where our kingdom now stands. The Dark Goddess was gravely injured and weakened, sealed in an Enchanted Forest far away. Atalea herself had been harmed though and had disappeared ever since then. Only a few of The Guardians and dark sorceresses remained after the war, eventually getting lost to history. Some believe that their descendants are still among us today, as normal folks.”

Seulgi’s mouth gaped widely. “Do you think that’s why there are good people and bad people now, Mr. Gregory? Maybe the good ones are descended from The Guardians while the bad ones are descended from the dark witches?”

The old man laughed, seemingly satisfied that he had managed to catch her attention at last. “I don’t think that’s the only thing that defines whether someone is good or bad, Princess. Human beings are of complex nature. We should not judge anyone based on their origin but rather their own actions.”

Seulgi went into another round of awed “Ooh” and “Aah” before her ears picked up the sound of the heavy palace’s door opening and shutting again loudly.

A row of helpers rushed down to the Hall and Seulgi immediately knew what it meant. She beamed. “Papa is home!”

Hopping off her chair without waiting for Mr. Gregory’s agreement, she raced out of her study room – Seulgi really shouldn’t run, according to her etiquette lessons – and hurried downstairs to check on her father.

“King Agnar!” She heard one of the helpers speak alarmedly, a mild terror in his voice.

When Seulgi finally saw her father, afraid that the apprehensive tone might mean that he had been injured, she found that he was perfectly well.

Only a layer of frigid ice – similar to the one Seulgi had seen on the windowpane earlier – was creeping on him and slowly spreading from his hands to his elbows.

The source of the ice, Seulgi realized with surprise, was a small girl around her age who was passed out cold in his arms.

Her hair was platinum blonde – so pale it was almost white in its braid – and her clothes was of frayed, torn fabric in the color of blue.

When Seulgi walked closer, she noticed with shock that there were splashes of red on the girl’s pale face and her garments.

Blood, she registered slowly.

Her first thought was that the girl was injured and in need of help.

“Gerda!” King Agnar called after the head of their helpers urgently. “The gloves! Bring the satin gloves from Seulgi’s room! They should be around the same size as this child!”

Obviously befuddled but unquestioning, Gerda dashed away immediately to fetch those satin gloves that Seulgi never really wore and hurried down to the Hall again.

“Your majesty! You have to put her down! She is freezing you all over!” The other servants pointed at the blue frost quickly spreading up and almost reaching King Agnar’s shoulders.

“Gerda! Hurry!” Lieutenant Mattias, the palace’s head guard, urged her to come down the staircase faster.

Once Gerda arrived and put the gloves on the girl’s hands, she pulled back and shrieked with shock as a sharp bite of cold pierced her skin like pins and needles.

“Your majesty, she is freezing cold! Are you sure you will be all right handling her –”

“I will be fine.” King Agnar insisted, now able to shake off the ice enveloping his arms because there was no new frost forming.

Seulgi registered belatedly that the ice came from the girl’s hands.

That was what the gloves were for.

“I’m taking her up.” King Agnar announced, crossing the big Hall with hurried steps that were somehow still poised and going up the stairs which led to the castle’s upper floors.

All the while, a thin layer of ice formed on the floor where he walked with the girl in his arms and gleamed like thousand blue diamonds.

Eyes widened with wonder, Seulgi kneeled down to touch the scattered frozen fractals. Each one of them was reflecting light on its surface and shimmering brightly.

“Magic.” She mumbled in awe.

--------------------------------------

“Irene?”

“Irene, sweetheart, are you there?”

“We have been looking for you for an hour.”

“Come on, sweetheart. We give up.”

“We admit that we lose the game.”

Irene giggled behind a snow-covered shrub, covering with her small hand to stop herself from making noises.

She could see Papa and Mama roaming around nearby to search for her, a knowing smile plastered on their faces.

Thinking back on it, they must have known that she was hiding behind the shrub and were just humoring her by pretending that they didn’t know.

After all, she had always chosen the same shrub as her hiding spot whenever they played hide-and-seek behind their small hut.

She was never a very adventurous type.

“Surprise!” She popped up from the shrub with a wide toothy grin, her hands lifted above her head – which was half covered by snow – victoriously.

Mama and Papa whirled around and pretended to be shocked by her little stunt, hands clutching their hearts and eyes widening, but lips smiling anyway.

Irene giggled, raising her arms higher so Mama would pick her up.

Mama did and Irene snuggled into her warmth immediately as she rocked her slowly in her arms. Papa laughed beside them and lifted a hand to ruffle the snow off her hair.

They were so happy.

They were so happy living together in their small hut on the outskirts of the kingdom, far away from everyone else.

They were so happy living together despite having little to nothing in possessions.

Mama and Papa had always told her that the most precious possessions were the people whom she loved and the people who loved her back.

So, Irene had always been contented living a simple, happy life with her most precious possessions, her own parents.

So, why exactly did the world have to take them away from her now?

“Mama! Papa!”

She could see Papa crash onto the ground with a loud thud, blood pooling out from neck and life fading away from his familiar blue eyes, never to come back again.

The paralyzing horror that struck her wasn’t even over yet when another brutal mugger launched a spear at Mama who was running towards her to save her.

Irene could see the way the spear was moving towards Mama from behind, could almost break down the millisecond movement of the cold, swooshing metal, but she could not, for the life of theirs, move or do anything.

It felt as if fear had materialized into a black, physical claw, shooting up from the soil and grabbing her ankles to keep her in place.

By the time she could shout for Mama’s life, it was already too late and the cold iron had pierced through Mama’s heart from behind and jutted all the way out on her chest.

The warm heart that Irene had always loved, would never be there to adore her again.

Only the remnants of its warm blood now splattered on her face and reddened her vision.

Irene roared, feeling an overwhelming pressure grow behind her eyes and a strong, painful force pound in her head and threaten to explode.

Before she knew it, something cold and powerful rushed to her entire body and pulsed in her vessels with unstoppable force, filling her with a surge of power she had never felt before.

Irene growled and raised her hand from Mama’s dead body to sweep at the incoming muggers, ice bursting out of her fingertips in the shapes of hundreds sharp spears to impale twenty grown men in hearts in the matter of seconds.

When it was done, she twisted her hand and engulfed their dead bodies with more frost, encrusting them from deadened limbs to lifeless eyes until they were all frozen solid in ice.

And then, just as easily, she snapped her fingers and made all the ice – with the bodies in it – shatter into million tiny pieces.

Irene had always loved blue because