A warm breeze swept through the enchanted kingdom of Arendelle on a midsummer evening, caressing its corridors and soaring spires. The night was still, like the surface of a mirror untouched by wind. Only the faint chirping of insects occasionally broke the silence—soft, subtle notes that went unnoticed. For this night, unlike others, held not peace, but quiet anticipation.
Anxious eyes turned toward the heart of the kingdom—to the royal palace—where silent prayers filled every breath, hoping the night would pass without sorrow. All wished for the gentle queen to endure these pivotal hours safely.
Inside the palace, lights flared brightly, and hurried footsteps echoed through the halls. The urgency was unmistakable. Servants bustled like bees in a hive, preparing everything to ensure the birth would go smoothly. Just beyond the door of the bustling chamber, where tension hung like mist, a striking man with noble features paced restlessly. His eyes flicked repeatedly toward the sealed door, as though trying to pierce through it with sheer will. Something inside him swayed between hope and fear.
Suddenly—
"Waaah!"
A soft cry pierced the stillness, a newborn's voice shattering the night's taut quiet like glass underfoot.
The door flew open. A woman stepped out, gently cradling a tiny bundle in her arms. The man rushed toward her with swift, unthinking steps.
"How is she? How is the queen?" he asked, voice tight with emotion. His gaze darted past her, toward the room beyond—as though he'd wished to burst in long ago, held back only by love and fear.
The woman offered a reassuring smile. "Do not worry, Your Majesty. Queen Iduna is safe—just exhausted. She needs rest now. Look!" She gently tilted the bundle. "A gift from the heavens… a beautiful little girl. You may take her inside. The queen will be overjoyed to see her."
King Agnarr exhaled deeply, as if a great weight had lifted from his chest. His joy poured out in breathless whispers:
"Wonderful… truly wonderful…"
He extended his arms to receive the child, then turned and called to the attendants:
"Hurry! See this woman is properly rewarded for aiding my wife. Escort her to her quarters in the palace."
He pushed the door open with care and strode to the bedside, where the queen lay—pale, but her eyes still bright with life. He approached her gently, concern shadowing his features.
"How do you feel, my love?" he asked softly.
The queen stirred, struggling to sit up. "I'm all right… Please, let me see her… I want to see her…"
He moved quickly to her side, helping her sit. "Easy now… let me help you. You need to rest."
He supported her back and placed the tiny infant into her arms.
The queen looked down at the child with tender warmth. The baby, cradled in her mother's arms, let out a soft, knowing smile—as if she'd felt their love from the very first moment. A peaceful smile spread across Iduna's face, glowing with the joy of new motherhood and the quiet wonder of first-time awe.
"Agnarr," she whispered, "I was already happy just having you by my side… but now, with our daughter, I feel like the happiest soul in this world. You've given me a joy I never imagined."
He smiled back, eyes locked with hers. "And I feel the same… This is unlike anything I've ever known. My responsibilities have grown, and now I must protect you… and her."
The queen laughed, a sound full of light and love, as she gazed down at her child. "Look at her! She has your eyebrows—and my eyes. She looks like a tiny porcelain doll… too beautiful to be real! What shall we name her?"
He answered with a smile, "Didn't we decide long ago? If it were a boy, we'd call him Sier. But if it's a girl… her name is Elsa."
"That's right! Elsa… Our daughter's name is Elsa!" the queen said with delight, pressing a gentle kiss to the child's brow.
At that very moment, Elsa opened her eyes slowly and let out a playful giggle, as though responding to her mother's voice.
"Look, Agnarr!" the queen exclaimed. "She laughed! I think she likes her name as much as we do, don't you, little Elsa?"
Agnarr laughed with her, pride shining in his voice. "Of course. She's a clever one… And one day, she'll grow into a wise queen of Arendelle."
Krrk~
A soft creak echoed as the door opened once more, and a guard stepped in with hurried strides.
"What is it?" King Agnarr asked, his brow furrowing in clear irritation. He shot the guard a sharp look, silently thinking: 'Did I not give strict orders not to disturb the queen while she rests?'
The guard paled at the sight of the king's frown, instantly realizing he had interrupted a moment that should have remained undisturbed. Still, he held his ground. The matter, after all, could not wait. With a hint of hesitation, he spoke:
"Your Majesty… there's an urgent matter that requires your immediate attention."
"Hm?" Agnarr's brow rose in surprise, his gaze narrowing in suspicion. 'What could possibly justify barging in at such a time? Who would dare disrupt this moment without a grave reason?'
But he mastered his temper and turned to the guard with composed authority. "First, summon the women I appointed to tend to the queen. They should be just outside. Then wait for me in the corridor."
The king had made careful preparations. Everything was arranged to proceed smoothly—including the trusted women, hand-picked to care for the queen in case of any emergency.
The queen, still cradling baby Elsa, smiled gently. "If something truly important has happened, then go, Agnarr. No one would dare interrupt now unless the matter was truly urgent."
He returned her gaze, admiration softening his expression. "As always, my queen… your insight never fails."
He paused, then added, "I'll leave once the attendants arrive. But you and Elsa—stay safe."
Moments later, the door opened again, and three or four women entered, ready to attend to the queen. Once assured of their presence, Agnarr turned and exited the chamber. The guard stood waiting just outside.
The king faced him with quiet urgency. "What couldn't wait until morning? There's no war. No unrest."
The guard waved his hand, urgency rising in his voice. "There's no time to explain, Your Majesty! Please—come with me, quickly!"
Agnarr's eyes widened, concern tightening in his chest. Without another word, he followed the guard's swift steps, unease mounting with every stride.
As soon as they stepped out into the palace courtyard, the guard pointed skyward. "Look… over there!"
But the king didn't need the gesture. The moment his feet touched the open ground, he sensed it—something strange was stirring above.
He lifted his eyes to the sky, astonishment spreading across his face.
"What… is happening?" he murmured, staring in disbelief.
A glowing blue mist had spread across one quarter of the heavens, while on the opposite side, brilliant white clouds had gathered and gleamed like polished crystal. It was as if the sky had split in two—two forces standing opposed, watching, waiting.
The guard's voice broke through his awe. "Your Majesty! The mists… they're moving closer together!"
Agnarr's breath caught. His eyes swept the horizon, filled with rising dread. 'Was this an omen of disaster? Or… could it be a sign of hope?'
All across Arendelle, the people began to notice the strange sight. They stepped out of their homes, stunned by the vision overhead. Many had still been praying for the queen and her newborn, but now the heavens demanded their silence and attention.
"What's going on?"
"Isn't this the night of the queen's labor? What do these strange clouds mean?"
Whispers spread as worried eyes turned to the sky.
Then suddenly—
The two clouds collided at the center, and from within them came a strange sound. Faint at first, like the cry of an unseen infant. The wail rose into the air, echoing through the sky, and then—silence.
A burst of radiant energy exploded from the heart of the clouds, spiraling into a colossal vortex of light that surged toward the heart of Arendelle.
And so… the story began.