Frozen: The Queen and Her Star

CHAPTER 2: [Where the North Wind Meets the Sea]

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Trudging through the gates of the small village, Eldrid quickly pulled a badge from the folds of his cloak. The emblem of Weselton, bearing the stern visage of the Duke himself, glinted in the dim evening light as he showed it to the guards stationed at the entrance.

"State your business."

One of the guards demanded, though their eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of the badge, a token that marked Eldrid as a guild member of Weselton.

"Just passing through and looking for a place to rest for the night."

He replied, with the guards exchanging glances before nodding and stepping aside to allow him entry.

"Welcome to Thornwood."

Eldrid nodded in acknowledgment, tucking the badge back into his cloak as he stepped into the village. His eyes roved over the buildings, seeking a place where he could find food and shelter.

A sign creaking in the breeze caught his attention. It hung from a sturdy post and bore the image of a foaming mug—a tavern. Eldrid's stomach growled in response, and he made his way towards it, his boots echoing softly on the stones.

Inside, the tavern was alive with the hum of conversation and the clinking of mugs. The warmth of the fire and the mingling aromas of hearty stew and spiced ale created a stark contrast to the chill outside.

However, the lively chatter ceased abruptly as he crossed the batwing doors, the patrons turning to eye him warily. He was used to such receptions; strangers with blades were often met with a mix of fear and suspicion.

Right, his reputation often contributed too.

Ignoring the murmurs and sidelong glances, Eldrid approached the counter where a stout, bearded man with a weathered face and keen eyes stood polishing a mug. The tavern keeper gave him a once-over, his gaze lingering on the sword at his hip before Eldrid asked.

"I need a room for the night and dinner."

The tavern keeper grunted, setting the mug down with a thud.

"Twenty coins for the night, five for a meal."

Eldrid reached into his pouch and counted out the coins, placing them on the counter neatly without hesitation. Looking back at the silent customers of the bar staring at him, he added.

"And I’d like the food brought to my room, if you wouldn't mind."

The tavern keeper’s eyes narrowed slightly before huffing.

"That’ll be another coin."

Nodding, he slid an additional coin across the counter. The man scooped up the money, his demeanor shifting slightly as he tucked the coins into a leather pouch at his belt.

"Room's at the end of the hall, upstairs."

He said, taking a key with a wooden tag bearing the number "4," and pointed towards a narrow staircase.

"I'll have the girl bring your food up shortly."

"Thank you."

With a nod of thanks, Eldrid took the key and made his way to his temporary stay. The hallway was dimly lit by a few flickering candles, casting long shadows that danced on the walls. The wood creaked under his boots as he walked, adding to the eerie silence of the upstairs corridor.

Once inside his room, he locked the door and dropped the large sack he had been carrying, letting it thud onto the ground with a heavy sound.

The room was small but clean, with a single bed, a sturdy wooden chair, and a washbasin. The walls were adorned with simple tapestries, adding a touch of homeliness to the otherwise sparse quarters.

Making sure to lock the door, he secured his privacy before taking off his cloak and draping it over the chair. He placed his sword within arm's reach on the bedside table and sat down, allowing himself a moment to relax.

Wearing a cloak for an extended period of time was uncomfortable, after all.

The reason he didn’t want to eat out in the open was due to magic being highly frowned upon in Weselton. He couldn't risk anyone discovering his secret.

He reached for his right arm and removed it with a simple tug, revealing not even a stump where his arm should be—just a slight hump of his shoulder remained.

Lifting the metallic arm, he sighed as he gently placed it onto the bed beside him.

Lifting the metallic arm, he sighed as he gently placed it onto the bed beside him. A magical moving prosthetic, aided by an unknown force. It didn't have a name—or he presumed it didn't, as the arm didn't come with a manual. It moved and acted as a normal arm with a simple thought. It even relayed the sense of touch back to him, which was just surreal.

To the people who managed to catch a glimpse of him, the prosthetic could easily be mistaken for a normal arm in protective armor. Since he wore a full set of armor beneath his cloak, people were none the wiser.

She tried to give it back, the action only making Eldrid's smile brighter at the child's sense of honesty.

"Hold on!"

Donning his cloak in a hurry, he made sure to cover up the right side of his body before opening the door, revealing a child with a tray, filled with food. She stood in front of the door with a toothy grin, raising it with the type of look innocent yet brave children give when meeting with strangers.

"Here you go, mister! Some fish and soup!"

A smile dawns on his face as he accepts the tray.

"Thank you very much."

"No problem, mister! Oh, you can put the tray at the side of the door when you're done; I'll come to take it later."

Smiling, Eldrid takes the tray from the child's hands and places it onto his room's table before digging into his pocket and handing the girl 2 coins for her impeccable service.

"Here, for the delivery."

"W-Wow, so much!"

She looked at him in shock and then back to the coins in her little hands.

"M-Mister, I can't..."

She tried to give it back, the action only making his smile brighter at the attitude of the child's morality. Eldrid gently pushed her hand back towards her.

"Keep it. Consider it a tip for good service."

The girl's eyes sparkled as she had the brightest smile on her face.

"Thanks, mister! I can finally buy that dress now!"

With an excited giggle, she turned and skipped down the hallway, leaving Eldrid to his solitude once more. Shaking his head at the cuteness of the child, he closed the door softly and returned to the table, eyeing the steaming bowl of soup and the freshly cooked fish.

Taking a seat at the lone table in the room, he picks up the spoon and starts dining, intending to fill his hungry stomach with the warm food presented to him.

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As night fell and the moon rose, Eldrid, sleeping in his bed in calm, was stirred by a soft, melodic hum. It was distant at first, like a whisper carried by the wind.

[Ah ah, ah ah~]

Woken up by the beautiful voice, he blinked drowsily before turning to the other side, the pillow he was using as a headrest covering his ear to try and shun the voice out.

But no matter how tightly he pressed his ear to the pillow, the sound persisted, growing clearer, more insistent, like a call from someone or something.

Groaning, he sighed as he got up from the comfy bed, walking to the sole wooden window of the room, shut tight to keep the warmth of the room from escaping.

He pressed his hand against the chill touch of wood, his breath fogging due to the cold temperatures outside the window, and pushed. The window swung open, a gale of coldness entering into the room, sending a shiver down his spine. 

[Ah ah, ah ah~]

He peered out of the window as the voice sang for him once more, seemingly calling him, with his eyes instinctively shifting to face the north, where the voice seemed to originate from.

Heaving, he crouched slightly, placing his elbows on the window frame, and stared out into the dark expanse beyond the village.

This... song, if you would call it that, has been haunting him for the good majority of his years since he woke up in the middle of nowhere almost 7 years ago, once in a blue moon.

Seven years; time flies fast when you journey around aimlessly, following some voice that beckons him somewhere, usually towards the north.

Do you know how it feels, knowing that spiritually, you don't belong? The lack of memories and abundance of questions gnawing at his soul, desperate to find an answer to his existence? He knows, deep down, that he was not supposed to exist. An anomaly, that's what he was.

Every day, he felt like a stranger in his own skin, disconnected from the world around him. Sure, the people that he had met in his travels were kind enough, but there was always a part of him that felt out of place, like he was a piece of a puzzle whose parts didn't fit in the whole picture. 

[Ah ahh, ah ahhh~]

"I can't... You have to be more specific."

Eldrid muttered into the wind, begging as the voice responded with another chorus of the same melody, causing him to sigh in disappointment. He had devised some kind of system.

If the voice sang into the wind, it meant that he was not in the right direction. Coupled with the fact that the voice only called for him every blue moon, it made his quest feel almost impossible at times.

... He made up his mind. He'll move on from Weselton and head north once more. Recalling the world map briefly, Eldrid hummed as he decided where to go.

Maybe Arendelle? It's directly north of Weselton, and he heard that the country had a better atmosphere than this godforsaken country—

[Where the north wind meets the sea~]

He froze as another voice, a faint whisper, rang in the air, his eyes widening as his ears caught the snippet of a new melody. It was different from the voice that had been calling him.

[There's a river full of memory~]

[Sleep, my darlings, safe and sound~]

[For in this river, all is found...]

Much more mature sounding, like the voice of a mother singing to her children. Though faint, the melody had a clarity and warmth that resonated deep within him, his heart suddenly racing as he clung to the fading words in the wind.

"This is... a lullaby?"

He whispered, almost afraid that speaking the words aloud might cause him to forget the fading voice in the wind. While he quickly memorized the lullaby in his mind, he realized something.

Arendelle. When he made the decision to migrate to Arendelle for more clues about his existence, a sudden but welcome clue landed in his lap. It felt like a sign, a confirmation that he was on the right path.

He couldn't help but start to laugh excitedly. This was the first clue that he's gotten in years! The last time he received a clue was four years ago when he met a wandering witch who guided him to Weselton!

The new voice—it was all pointing him towards something. He suddenly felt a surge of warmth in his chest, a feeling that he hadn't experienced in a long time.

Quickly getting dressed, he gathered his belongings before leaving the room. There was no point lingering in Weselton anymore; Arendelle was calling to him, and he had to answer.