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The morning mist clung to Elsa's skin as she stood at the edge of the Dark Sea.
Waves thundered against jagged ice, spraying seafoam high into the sky. She stared across the ocean, where the light of Ahtohallan shimmered like a distant dream. It looked so close—and yet impossibly far. The voice still called to her, soft and insistent, echoing from beyond the waves.
Her heart pounded.
She took a breath.
"I'm ready."
The sea roared in defiance, wind howling as though the ocean itself wanted to deny her passage. But Elsa knew she had come too far to turn back. She had made peace with fear. Now, she would face the unknown—not because she was unafraid, but because she had to know the truth.
She stepped onto the water.
A thin layer of ice formed beneath her foot, spreading like frost with every step she took. Slowly, steadily, she moved forward—out into the churning sea.
The ocean responded violently. A surge of water crashed against her, shattering the ice and flinging her backward. Elsa struck the surface hard, the cold numbing her limbs instantly. She coughed and sputtered, gasping for breath.
But she didn't stop.
Her hands stretched forward, freezing another path. Again, she walked.
Another wave slammed into her. Her knees buckled, and the ice cracked beneath her. This time, she barely held her footing. The sea was relentless.
And still, she rose.
She reached for the storm, and it reached back with fury.
Then the sea shifted. From the depths, a shape emerged—fast and enormous. A towering creature of sleek water and raw power.
The Nøkk.
The elemental spirit of water. Guardian of the sea.
It rushed toward her, its watery hooves smashing through her path of ice. Elsa braced herself as the Nøkk reared up, its eyes glowing with ancient intent.
With a cry, it charged.
Elsa leapt aside, forming ice beneath her as she ran across the surface. The Nøkk gave chase, galloping across the ocean like a thunderclap made flesh.
Elsa turned, forming a jagged wall of ice to block it—but the Nøkk exploded through it, scattering shards in all directions.
It wasn't attacking out of rage. It was testing her.
"Let me through!" she shouted. "I have to go!"
The Nøkk lunged again. Elsa dodged, barely. The spirit grabbed her with a tendril of water and yanked her underwater.
The world became blue and silent.
Panic hit her like a hammer. She kicked wildly, summoning blasts of ice to free herself. The Nøkk tightened its grip.
Her lungs screamed. She was sinking.
No.
Not like this.
She clenched her hands—and the ocean froze.
Not all of it. Just enough. A sudden explosion of frost radiated outward from her chest. The tendrils shattered. Elsa surged upward, breaking the surface with a gasp and riding a spire of ice into the sky.
From above, she landed on another sheet of ice and raised her hands.
"Enough!"
A burst of power erupted from her—a wave of light-blue magic that momentarily stilled the storm.
The Nøkk stood before her, unmoving.
They stared at each other. Elsa, chest heaving. The Nøkk, water shimmering.
"I'm not here to fight" she whispered. "I'm here to understand."
The spirit moved slowly, circling her now. Studying. Elsa extended a hand—not with force, but trust.
A long moment passed.
Then, the Nøkk stepped closer. Its head lowered. Tentatively, Elsa reached out and touched the creature's snout.
The water felt solid and shifting all at once. Cold—but alive.
And then the Nøkk bowed its head.
Elsa smiled softly, eyes wide with awe. "Thank you," she said.
In the next breath, she stepped forward—and the Nøkk formed a saddle of frozen water. Elsa mounted with care, gripping its mane.
Without another word, the water spirit charged across the waves—faster than wind, smoother than ice. Elsa held on as the ocean raced past in a blur.
Ahead, Ahtohallan grew larger with every heartbeat. Its spires shimmered with memory and song. It pulsed with magic.
She had made it.
As the Nøkk slowed and came to a stop by the shoreline, Elsa dismounted and placed a grateful hand on its side. "You've done enough," she said.
The Nøkk disappeared into the mist.
Elsa turned toward the glacier.
Here was the source of the voice—the truth, the past, everything.
She walked across the frozen platform and placed her hand on the glacier's face. Magic pulsed beneath it like a heartbeat. It welcomed her.
The song—the hum—grew louder, until she could almost understand the words.
Show yourself.
Elsa stepped forward.
A crystalline bridge extended, revealing the inner halls of Ahtohallan.
Memory danced across the walls: the moment her parents met, the creation of Arendelle, the war with the Northuldra, the dam…
Then—her mother's voice.
"Come, my darling, homeward bound..."
Elsa gasped. "Mother?"
She followed the voice deeper into Ahtohallan. The glacier glowed with scenes from her past—her childhood, Anna laughing, the night she froze the fjord, the moment she chose to be free.
She touched the wall. The memories shimmered, her heartbeat synced with the pulse of the magic.
"You are the one you've been waiting for..."
Elsa fell to her knees. "I don't understand… I thought I came here to find answers, not more riddles."
The glacier responded with a whisper:
"You are the bridge."
A sudden rush of memories filled her—images not just of her family, but the forest, the spirits, her magic.
Then it became clear.
Her mother was Northuldra. Her father, Arendellian.
She wasn't cursed.
She was the answer.
She had been born to unify—to bring balance.
The fifth spirit.
Tears fell silently as Elsa stood in the heart of Ahtohallan.
Finally… she understood.
She reached out, and a gown of pure starlight and frost enveloped her. Her power no longer felt like a burden. It felt like home.
Outside, the storm had stilled. The sea calmed.
But the dam—the lie that kept the forest suffering—still stood.
Elsa's voice trembled. "Anna must know the truth."
Suddenly, she gasped.
A vision surged through the glacier.
Anna, in danger. Ethan too. They were near the dam.
Elsa screamed, "No!"
The glacier shook. Water flooded around her. The force of the truth, the raw memory of injustice, overwhelmed the chamber.
She tried to fight it—but Ahtohallan was too powerful.
It pulled her under.
The last thing she saw before darkness closed in—
—was Anna's face.
And her own fading reflection in the ice.
---
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