Prologue

AGNARR

Alone in his room, Prince Agnarr stood in front of his dressing table. The coronation was starting soon in an hour, and he was getting increasingly nervous. He had specifically given orders to be left alone to get himself ready. Ignoring usual royal conventions, he never allowed the servants to help him get ready. No one knew about his strange ability, which had strangely manifested itself after the tragedy in the Enchanted Forest. His father had died there and he had barely made it out alive, leaving him to guard his own secret as he grew up.

He looked at a pile of white gloves in a trunk beside his dressing table. Spotless. Just like snow. Most people would look upon snow as a blessing that came every winter, but to him, it was a curse. Having to live with icy powers his entire teenage life was enough to drive him insane. Agnarr never did manage to find out why he suddenly had powers after that fateful day in the Enchanted Forest. Maybe he had been cursed with powers after the battle between the Northuldra and the Arendellians.He didn't know.

All he knew was that he had tried his best to get rid of his powers, secretly seeking out the best medical practitioners and sorcerers in the world to help him be free of the ice, but alas, it was not to be. Agnarr had resigned to the fact that he was meant to live with his powers, and instead worked hard to control them. Even now, he had not mastered the ability to conceal his powers. An entire adolescence to master his abilities, but he had not managed to do so. Maybe he was missing something. A key to controlling the ice. He had not found it yet, but maybe some day.

He had to find it soon, as he was about to be thrown into the limelight. Before he had turned twenty one, the Regency Cabinet had governed Arendelle, but now that he was of age, he was to ascend to the title of King. It was going to be way harder to keep the secret of his powers away from the public eye, especially since he was going to be the centre of attention. Public rulings, Cabinet meetings, appearances in the kingdom…his life was about to be thrown into the spotlight. With everything going on, the stakes were going to be raised so much higher. No one could know his secret. What would the people think when they realised that their King was a monster? It would certainly not do to have his secret exposed. The only solution he could find that worked well so far was the gloves.

"Your Highness?"

Agnarr was jolted out of his thoughts, and spun around with reflexes like that of a cat. "Who is it?"

"It's me, Frederick."

Agnarr sighed in relief. "Come in."

The door opened and Frederick walked in.

"Close the door!" Agnarr hissed, his voice panicky.

"Relax, there's no one's out there. It's just me." Frederick said, closing the door as the Prince had commanded.

"You never know, Frederick. You never know." Agnarr heaved a sigh of relief as the door clicked shut.

Sergeant Frederick was the only person apart from his parents who knew about his secret. After Agnarr's previous guard, Lieutenant Matthias, had been trapped in the Enchanted Forest, Frederick who was already a corporal in the King's Guard, had been tasked with replacing him. The young corporal had witnessed the teenager using his powers by accident about a year ago, and Agnarr had made him swear to keep his secret, and so far Frederick had been a loyal and trustworthy companion. Frederick was three years younger than he was, and had been a close friend of his, after having spent so much time together. Agnarr was grateful for his companionship through the years, though he never spoke it.

"I see you have your gloves ready." Frederick glanced at the open trunk of white gloves that were neatly laid out in rows upon rows.

Agnarr reached out and took a pair from the trunk, and began putting them on. "Tell me the truth. Is it obvious that I'm trying to hide something?"

Frederick remained silent, his expression completely unreadable. Agnarr found it annoying that Frederick could manage to keep a straight face in spite of any circumstance, which made it hard to tell what he was really thinking.

"Frederick."

"No."

Agnarr heaved a sigh of relief. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Your Highness." Frederick said, his expression still unwavering as he watched Agnarr finish putting on his gloves. "Are you ready?"

"The coronation isn't starting yet." Agnarr felt jumpy just saying the word. He wasn't ready for this.

Frederick shook his head. "Not the coronation. A messenger's waiting downstairs. He said he has an urgent message for the Prince."

"What now?" Agnarr headed for the door, and Frederick calmly opened it for him.

The Prince hurried down the stairs of the palace to the landing where the messenger was waiting. The messenger was accompanied by a pair of soldiers belonging to the elite King's Guard, dressed smartly in sage green uniforms with white stripes that denoted their ranks.

"You want them to leave?" Frederick whispered to Agnarr as he caught up with him on the landing. Agnarr nodded, and Frederick motioned for the pair of guards to leave the room. They acknowledged their Sergeant and bowed to the Prince smartly, before leaving the messenger behind.

Agnarr cleared his throat and looked at the messenger. "You have a message for me?"

The messenger bowed. "Yes, Your Highness. Might I suggest that you hear the message in private?"

"Whatever you have to say, you can say it here and now." Agnarr replied impatiently.

"As you wish, Your Highness. The Archbishop of the Church of Arendelle asks that you appear at the church the moment you receive this message."

"What does he want?" Agnarr probed further.

"He didn't say. This was all he asked me to tell you."

"Isn't the Archbishop supposed to be the one crowning me later? Why is he summoning me to the church now?"

"I'm not sure, Your Highness."

Agnarr grunted in exasperation. "That will be all. The guards will see you out."

"Thank you, Your Highness." The messenger bowed again and left quickly.

Agnarr looked at Frederick. "How long will it take to get there?"

"If we hurry, twenty minutes." Frederick replied swiftly. "Though I strongly discourage you from going there now. The Coronation ceremony is taking place in less than an hour."

Agnarr placed a palm on his forehead. If he went, he would be cutting it too close. However, it did sound urgent. When it came to things like this, his first instinct was to always assume that someone out there had learnt his secret and would threaten him with it if he didn't comply. It was something that could be dangled over him at all times, so he decided to see what the Archbishop had to say. If anyone out there knew his secret, the most likely candidate was the Archbishop. His religious intuition was something that Agnarr was always wary of.

"Get the horse ready. No carriage. Just you and me." Agnarr broke the silence.

Frederick nodded and took huge strides towards the door to prepare for the journey.

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The Church of Arendelle was located somewhere near the centre of the kingdom, which was readily accessible to all the people. It was an open spot, and Agnarr feared that someone would see him and raise questions as to why he was heading into the church when he was supposed to be getting ready for his coronation. However, to his relief, no one was around in the streets, most likely gathered in the town square near the palace to celebrate Coronation Day.

"Wait out here. I'll go see what the Archbishop wants." Agnarr dismounted from the horse hurriedly, not waiting for Frederick to help him. He took off his gloves and tossed them to Frederick.

"Are you sure?" Frederick asked, catching the gloves.

"The Archbishop is a sharp man. He'll be suspicious of the gloves, I know it. Don't worry. I'll be back soon." Agnarr pushed open the heavy door of the church and went in. The door closed behind him, and Agnarr found himself in the dimly lit church. He walked down the rows of pews to the front where a side door was positioned. He assumed that the Archbishop was waiting in his personal chambers.

The Prince pushed open the door of the Archbishop's chamber. An elderly man was standing inside, his back to Agnarr. "You wanted to see me?" he asked cautiously.

The Archbishop turned around slowly to face the Prince. "Yes, Your Highness. Welcome to the Church of Arendelle." He spoke with an affected voice, which sounded unnatural and off-putting,

"The messenger said it was urgent."

"Ah, yes. Unfortunately, this is a matter of great importance." The Archbishop peered over his rounded glasses at the young man standing impatiently before him. "Please sit down, Your Highness."

Agnarr sat down on a wooden chair, looking at the Archbishop nervously. "Aren't you supposed to be getting ready for the coronation too? What's so important that this can't wait?"

The Archbishop cleared his throat, as if preparing to tell a long tale. "Have you ever heard of the Pilgrim?"

"The mythical leader of the League of Sorcerers?" Agnarr frowned. "Isn't that the common fairytale made up by parents to scare children?"

"Ah," the Archbishop dragged on. "So you've heard of it."

"What about it?"

"Contrary to popular belief, it is not a myth." The Archbishop continued slowly. "The League of Sorcerers, the Pilgrim. It is all true."

"Nonsense." Agnarr retorted. "It's just an age old myth. There's no guild of wizards running around terrorizing entire civilizations. Even then, what does this have to do with anything?"

"Like I said, it is very real."

"So you say, but what does it have to do with me?" Agnarr was losing his patience. "I don't know if you realize, but I have a coronation to get to."

"I need your help."

"My help?"

"To stop the Pilgrim and the League of Sorcerers." The Archbishop said definitively. "They are coming to Arendelle."

"What rubbish." Agnarr stood up. "Even if they are real, why come to me? The Ministry of Defence will be much better equipped for handling these sort of things. Look, I get it. You want me to put in a good word for you with the Minister. I'll do it after my coronation, but I have to go now."

"No. I need you."

"What are you talking about?"

"I know about your powers."

A chill ran down Agnarr's spine. So finally, his fears had come true. The Archbishop knew.

"Powers?" Agnarr laughed falsely. "Don't be daft."

"Yes, the ice. There's no need to be shy. I know about your abilities, Your Highness." The Archbishop continued. "And you are the only one strong enough to stop the Pilgrim."

Agnarr scoffed. "I thought you believed in a higher authority, not foolish fairytales. If you're done wasting my time, I have a coronation to get to." He turned to go. What a delusional old man. Wasting his time with legends and fairytales.

"If you don't help me stop the Pilgrim, I will have no choice but to tell the Cabinet what I know."

Agnarr turned around. "What did you say?"

"If you refuse to help me prevent the downfall of Arendelle, then I will need to take my concerns to the Cabinet." The Archbishop peered curiously at Agnarr. "As a concerned citizen, it is my duty to tell them what I know. I'm sure that they will be very intrigued to learn that their new king is a sorcerer."

"How dare you threaten your king?" Agnarr growled, red with rage.

"You're not king. Not yet."

"You can't do this."

"Yes I can. It is in my best interests to ensure the safety of Arend-"

A blast of ice sent the Archbishop flying across the small room, crashing against the wooden furniture. The elderly man tumbled to the ground, the broken pieces of wood collapsing on top of him. The Archbishop lay motionless from the sudden attack.

Agnarr withdrew his hands, beads of perspiration forming on his brow. What had he done? In a moment of rage and impulse, he had attacked the Archbishop. The Archbishop! He was in deep trouble now.

"Your Highness,"

Agnarr spun round to see Frederick entering the chambers. "What-"

"I didn't mean to. It was an accident." Agnarr spluttered in a panic. "He threatened me. What was I going to do?"

Frederick, calm and poised as usual, stood silently for a second before stuffing the gloves into Agnarr's hands. "Put them on. We'll deal with this later. We have to get to the Coronation. Now."

Agnarr was ushered out of the chambers, and took one last long look at the fallen Archbishop. Deep down, he knew that he was going to have to pay for this. Somehow. But now was not the time to worry about it. He only had fifteen minutes to get to the Coronation.

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Agnarr burst through the doors of the church, tossing aside his outer coat and sprinting down the large aisle towards the Archbishop's chambers. The moment the ceremony had ended and he had been given some privacy, he had rushed out into the night and grabbed his horse, not caring to wait for Frederick. The Coronation Ceremony had taken forever. He had gotten to the ceremony in the nick of time, flustered and sweaty, and had to maintain his cover when the Archbishop who was supposed to crown him didn't shown up.

The bishop had to replace the Archbishop and carry out the traditional rituals and finally Agnarr was officially crowned as the new King of Arendelle. While it was a momentous occasion for the people of Arendelle, he felt a constant sense of dread hanging over him. All he wanted to do was to get to the church to clean up his mess. Had the Archbishop reported the assault to the local authorities? Was the Archbishop dead? A million possibilities swam around in his head as he had been crowned King and the people cheered. He wondered if they would still cheer when they learnt about his crime.

Bringing himself to an abrupt halt, he flung open the door of the Archbishop's chambers to find him…gone. What? Agnarr panicked. Where was the Archbishop? The broken furniture had been cleaned out and replaced, as though nothing had ever happened. What was going on? And more importantly, where was the wretched Archbishop? Agnarr placed both hands behind his head, at a complete loss.

"If you're looking for him, he's not here anymore." A low voice came from behind him.

Agnarr turned to see a cloaked woman wearing a hood standing at the doorway. "Who are you? What do you mean?" He almost shouted in frustration and confusion.

"The King of Arendelle. It's an honour to meet you in person." The woman spoke with a rough drawling voice.

Agnarr looked at her. The hood that was pulled over her head was long enough to cover some of her features, and he could not tell what she really looked like in the shadows. "What do you mean he's not here anymore?"

"I assume you are referring to the Archbishop." The woman drawled. "Don't worry, I've taken care of everything."

"Stop speaking in riddles. What do you mean you've taken care of everything? Where is he?" Agnarr shouted.

"Hush." She put a long bony finger to her lip. "You don't want anyone to know what happened here, do you?"

"What have you done with the Archbishop?" Agnarr forced himself to calm down.

"Buried him, of course. You murdered him, didn't you?" she peered at the King curiously.

"You're lying. I didn't." Agnarr took a step back in denial, feeling his head spinning.

"Of course, you have no reason to trust me." The woman appeared to shrug underneath the long dark cloak that she wore. "But can you really risk it?"

"What do you want? Who are you?" Agnarr felt like his world had just crumbled.

"Pardon me, Your Majesty. I forgot to introduce myself." The woman drawled. "You may have heard of me in the old myths of the League of Sorcerers. I would like to confirm that they are very real."

Agnarr couldn't believe his ears. The League, it was real? "You-you're a member of the League of Sorcerers?"

"No, not just a member." Agnarr couldn't see, but it looked like the woman was smiling underneath the hood. "I am the Pilgrim."

"No…no that's not true."

"Why not? Is there anything wrong with the Pilgrim being a woman?"

Agnarr sat down in a chair, reeling from the revelations. This was too much for him. "Why should I believe you?"

"That's a good question, Your Majesty. Of course, you can choose not to, and witness the consequences." The Pilgrim said simply. "You should have listened to the Archbishop. Maybe then you wouldn't be stuck in this predicament."

"What do you want from me?"

"Simple. I would like you to join the League of Sorcerers. We could use a powerful sorcerer like yourself."

Agnarr felt his heart sink. "How did you know?" There was no use trying to hide his secret from her. If she was who she claimed to be, then she would know everything about him. The myths told of the Pilgrim who travelled the world to recruit sorcerers for her League to execute entire civilisations that have been corrupted and gone awry.

The Pilgrim chuckled dangerously. "I make it my business to know. I have no quarrel with Arendelle. But I need you."

"And why would I join you?" Agnarr felt lightheaded.

"I'm sure the people of Arendelle would be happy to know more about their king. Would they be more shocked to find out that King Agnarr has magical powers? Or that their King murdered the Archbishop on Coronation Day?"

Agnarr remained silent in defeat.

"Things don't have to get messy, Agnarr. I'm a reasonable woman. I'm not asking much. All you have to do is join the League of Sorcerers."

Nodding in submission, Agnarr bowed his head in shame. What have I gotten myself into?

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Gazing out the misty window, King Agnarr watched as the snow fell hard against the kingdom of Arendelle. He stroked the slightly greying stubble on his upper moustache and took a long drink from his glass. Nineteen years. Nineteen years of living with the guilt of murdering the Archbishop. When the public had learnt of the untimely death of the Archbishop, the kingdom had exploded into hysteria. As the newly crowned King of Arendelle, Agnarr had no choice but to weather the storm under false pretences and address the masses regarding the mystery surrounding the Archbishop's death.

By this time, he had already been introduced to the League of Sorcerers, which actually existed. It wasn't a myth or legend, and Agnarr had realized how wrong he had been. The Pilgrim had been extremely intelligent, by exploiting his position as King to demand resources to fuel the League's existence and missions. He had occasionally been drafted into several missions to work together with other sorcerers to destroy a few corrupted villages, and had no choice but to comply. Living a double life like this was exhausting, and it only got harder when he had married Iduna within the same year. His wife eventually learnt about his secret, but thankfully she accepted him for who he was, understanding his predicament. A year later, he had his first child, Elsa.

Agnarr glanced in the direction of the next room, where his eldest daughter, Princess Elsa, was sleeping. Who would have guessed that fate would play a cruel joke on him, and give his daughter powers as well? To be fair, it was more of his own fault. He assumed that it was a hereditary trait that she had inherited. However, that didn't change the fact that he had been crushed when he learnt that Elsa was special, just like him. All he wanted was for his child to have a normal life, but alas, it was not to be.

Thankfully, his second daughter, Anna, was completely normal and didn't have powers. Nevertheless, it had been a rough eighteen years for his eldest daughter. Agnarr had never figured out how to get his own powers under control, and therefore he was useless in helping Elsa control her own similar abilities. The only thing he could teach her was to wear the gloves like he had. His other daughter, Anna, had to be kept in the dark about her sister's secret due to complications when she was younger, and she never knew why her sister shut her out.

Sighing, Agnarr took another long pull from his glass. What a rough childhood his children had endured. His youngest daughter had to live separated from her sister without knowing why, and his eldest daughter had been plagued with powers like he had been. He shed a single tear, angrily questioning why Elsa had to grow up with special abilities. She had to live in fear like he had, constantly worried that one day she would be exposed as a sorceress and cast out as a monster.

"Your Majesty."

Agnarr put down his glass and turned around to see Frederick standing by the door. "Frederick? What do you want?"

"The Pilgrim. She's sent a message summoning you to the dockside now."

Agnarr put down his glass and exhaled deeply. He had let Frederick in on his predicament almost two decades ago, and his faithful friend had been a great help to him in tough times. If nothing else, he was grateful for Frederick's friendship. He looked at Frederick. His closest friend's career as a soldier had been extremely successful and he had risen quickly to the rank of Captain. His new rank had been a good excuse to keep Frederick close as the commander of the King's Guard.

"Now? At this time? It's late."

"Yes. Unfortunately."

Sighing, Agnarr stepped away from the misty window and grabbed his coat, taking long strides out the door. Frederick turned to follow the king, but was stopped promptly. "Stay here, Frederick. I'll handle this by myself."

"Like you said, it's late."

"Thanks Frederick, but I can take care of myself. Go to bed." Agnarr put on a snow cap and headed out into the harsh winter night.

Within half an hour, he reached the dockside where the Pilgrim had demanded to meet. He squinted as he made out a cloaked woman walking towards him, accompanied by a dark and tall young man who wore a cloak as well.

"Hello, Agnarr. It's been a while." The Pilgrim greeted him with her rough voice.

"What do you want this time?"

"Straight to the point." She smiled. "Alright then. In a week's time, you will be embarking on a mission with a few League members to take down a small village in the East."

"And what have they done this time? Bruised your ego?"

"The usual," the Pilgrim ignored his sarcastic comment. "Let's keep it quick and clean. In and out before anyone spots you."

"You know," Agnarr said. "Two decades is a long time. Haven't I done enough for you?"

"Frankly, no. You being the King of Arendelle makes it hard to have you as a fully fledged member of the League. It's hard to keep things discreet these days."

"You think I don't know that?" Agnarr growled. "I've had enough of being your lap dog. I'm done."

"You're done when I say you're done." The Pilgrim's voice was sharp and ominous. "You know, that old leverage of the Archbishop's murder is getting tired. I have a new one that I've just discovered. And what a juicy one that is."

"What are you talking about?"

"Princess Elsa. She has powers just like her father, doesn't she?"

Agnarr's heart sank. "No…"

"Oh yes. I wonder how hard her life has been, trying to keep her powers a secret like you have? What would happen if people knew about you and your daughter? Would your family be abdicated from the throne?"

"You…you stay away from my family. They've got nothing to do with this."

"On the contrary." The Pilgrim continued harshly. "I have my eye on your daughter. Step out of line again, and things might end badly for her."

Agnarr closed his eyes in defeat, unable to do or say anything. There was nothing he wouldn't do to keep his family safe, even if that meant spending his whole life serving the Pilgrim as a member of the League of Sorcerers.

"Come," The Pilgrim told the tall young man. "Let's go."

"You recruiting them this young now? That's a new low, even for you." Agnarr remarked coldly.

"Yes. Better to start them off young on the right track." The Pilgrim replied. "As a matter of fact, I will be reaching out to your daughter soon enough. I understand that she's eighteen now. She should be ready soon."

"No…" Agnarr formed an ice dagger in his hand, and advanced towards the Pilgrim. "You stay away from my daughter!"

The young man spun round instinctively and knocked the dagger out of Agnarr's hand, quickly manoeuvring to hold the king in a submission position.

"Remember what I said about your family, Agnarr." The Pilgrim warned without looking over her shoulder. "I'll be in touch."

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Agnarr finished writing in his journal and placed it back between the shelves of books in his personal library. He grabbed the bronze amulet from his desk as well as the map to Ahtohallan and stuffed them into his suitcase and headed for the door. There was no time to waste. He met Frederick by the door, who took his suitcase. "Is Iduna downstairs?" he asked.

"She's waiting for you in the main hall."

"Good." Agnarr hurried down the stairs with Frederick in tow. After the Pilgrim had vowed to make Elsa a part of the League of Sorcerers, that had been the last straw for Agnarr. He was no longer going to sit idly by. Not if he could help it. He was going to do everything he could to keep Elsa out of the Pilgrim's reach. Upon arriving back at the castle, he had spent days toiling to read through his entire library of books on magic to find a way to keep Elsa safe from the Pilgrim. And finally, he had found something. The Pilgrim was a type of witch known as a Ha'naeth, who wielded a very specific and deadly form of black magic.

However, he had found that a mystical amulet called Qa'nneth existed that in theory could ward off any Ha'naeth. He had managed to acquire this amulet, but had no idea how to wield it. Then, in his extensive research, he had learnt about a mystical river across the Dark Sea called Ahtohallan that held the answers to all questions. He knew he had to travel there and seek answers from the spirits that inhabited Ahtohallan to learn how to use the Qa'nneth to protect his daughters from the imminent threat that the Pilgrim posed.

He met his wife in the main hall and bid his children goodbye, charging Frederick with the duty of looking after his daughters. They boarded a ship that would take them across the Southern Sea towards Ahtohallan. Unfortunately, halfway through their journey, a huge storm arose and began tossing the ship about in the winds and turbulent sea. Agnarr cursed as he clung on to a post in the cabin of the ship, gripping the Qa'nneth tightly in his hand. It didn't feel like an ordinary storm. This was way wilder than any natural storm. It had to be caused by supernatural forces. He cautiously made his way across the cabin to his wife.

"Agnarr, I'm scared." Iduna clung to a piece of sturdy furniture as the ship lurched dangerously in the midst of the storm.

"We'll be alright. I promise." Agnarr said in a tone more confident than he actually was.

"This storm," Iduna looked about fearfully. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"Don't worry. We'll make it to Ahtohallan and learn how to keep Anna and Elsa safe from the Pilgrim. She's not going to go anywhere near our children."

Alas, it was not to be. The turbulent waves eventually got the better of the king's ship, and swallowed it beneath the waters. The ship sank rapidly below the surface and was lost forever, together with the king and queen. As Agnarr drew his last breath, the last image that flashed through his mind was that of his daughters having to face the Pilgrim one day without his help, and the thought horrified him, though there was nothing he could do about it as he disappeared beneath the waves together with the Qa'nneth.

Writer's Commentary:

Hello again, readers. At the time of this writing, it is exactly one week before the release of Frozen 2. This time, in this novel, we will be exploring the world of magic from the perspectives of Anna and Elsa, along with the warriors. It is going to be bigger and more explosive than "The Major's Quest", that's for sure. And a whole lot more mythology and fantasy elements that I've created for this world.

This prologue was written to set up the events that will occur later in the story. I know that it's a long one, but it is essential to the main plot. You'll see. Meanwhile, I'm going to make good on my promise to put Anna in the spotlight this time round. I spent quite some time planning a new arc for our newest protagonist after the events of "Frozen" and "The Major's Quest".

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Stick around, I have some explosive good content in store for our warriors. See you in the next chapter, which will probably be written after I see "Frozen 2" in IMAX next week!