Born of Cold and Winter Air

The Returned

Jack felt his heart clench in retaliation to their separating, but deep down he knew that she needed time. Time. An incredibly bewitching thing, it was; never moving as one would have it. Jack had all but forgotten it's significance and value. He forgot what it was like to grasp at it with sweaty palms, desperate to control it's passing.

The air rippled through his hair as he embraced the current of the wind. The stars filled the sky like diamonds set into the ocean. They beamed and sparkled at him as if saying "hello". His body, weightless in his flight, soared above the mountains and tumbled skillfully through the clouds until he came upon the castle made of spun ice.

It rose in pointed peaks like those of Saint Basil's Cathedral in Moscow. The craftsmanship was breathtaking and it sent waves of pride pulsing through his body. His eyes roved over the delicate curve of the staircase leading to the front doors. A large portion of the ice had been broken away, leaving it's structural integrity compromised. With a gentle rap of his staff, the ice stitched and melded, repairing itself to a fully functional state. His fingers slid along the glassy rail, feet padding swiftly as he ascended the staircase. Stopping at the entrance, Jack's attention was drawn to several arrows buried into the icy door. What happened here?

Yanking the arrows free and smoothing the surface, Jack pushed open the heavy doors and walked inside. The ceilings vaulted as if in desperation to kiss the heavens, clear enough to see the stars and moon through it's shelter. There was no visible trace that anyone had actually occupied the castle long enough to furnish it. Making his way up the stairs, he found himself awestruck by the flawless architecture and apparent pride that had been poured into creating this fortress.

When entering what he guessed to be Elsa's intended room, he felt a spark of rage ignite in his bones as he took in the damage that had been done. Something happened here. The chandelier in pieces at the center of the room, splatters of blood that had soaked into the floor of ice, angry spikes of black ice bowing from the walls in defense, and scattered arrows along the floor unsettled Jack's nerves. Kneeling near the shattered chandelier, Jack's finger traced the splotches of blood. The twisting in his gut told him who the blood had belonged to, and fury swore that he would have answers.
Why didn't she tell me about this?

Fear swirled and lingered in the room like a bad omen, and Jack was determined to rid Elsa's sanctuary of it. It didn't take him long to put the room "right", adding his own embellishments and items of comfort. The bed he had constructed matched the opulence and splendor deserving of a king, or in this case a Snow Queen. Etchings of rosemaling and frosted ivy weaved along the bed frame and posts, whispering their heritage.

"Still a perfectionist, I see."

Jack's heart slammed into his ribcage at the deep voice. Whipping round, his staff clutched defensively in both hands as he eyed the stranger before him. The man was tall, deathly pale in features, and eyes a molten gold accentuated by pitch black hair that swooped back as if the wind had styled it so.

"Who might I ask, are you?" Jack straightened his back, eyes carefully trained on the dark stranger. Something about the man seemed vaguely familiar, but he was certain he had never seen him before now. He watched as the man casually slipped his hands from his maroon trousers and folded them across his chest.

"Skadi truly did a number on you, Jokul. I'll have to see if I can remedy that. All in due time of course." The man beamed at Jack, displaying a mouth full of abnormally sharpened teeth.

Jack felt a chill run down his spine at the name the stranger addressed him by. His body stiffened, coiled and ready for battle. Why he felt so threatened by this man, confused him. The answer was as unknown to him as was the name, Jokul.