Hans' Snow Queen

Chapter Three⎮Fire

The waning moon provided little light as Hans fled the castle. A black rucksack hung from his shoulder and hiking boots struck cobbled road-all pretence and disguise was abandoned.

Whoosh.

Hans drew his sword at the sound.

"Drop your weapon," warned a voice.

"When hell freezes over."

"I can arrange that." A figure shimmered in the silver light. Queen Elsa. "Worst disguise ever, Hans of the Southern Isles."

She was flanked by scowling soldiers and...Erik? His brother mouthed one word.

Run.

Hans did. Where to? No idea. Cowardly? Oh yeah.

Elsa blasted ice at his ankles. The ground sizzled and her enchantment melted away much to Elsa's confusion.

Western Forest. Somehow with adrenalin pumping through his veins and years of suppressed magic threatening to break free, the destination formulated in Hans' mind.

Hans leaped over fences, sprinted across rooftops, zigzagged through allies, and jumped off houses. Anything to lose his pursuers. But the soldiers were like hounds. One rounded a corner and tackled the former prince to the ground. Hans ate the dirt-and maybe some horse dung too. Curse horses and their infinite amounts of faecal matter.

The man pinned Hans down and punched the living daylights out of him. Flames erupted and ate away at his opponent. Hans staggered back and witnessed exactly how fire burned through human flesh. Just then, a sword sliced off the man's head. A younger soldier held the weapon, his right forearm branded with a two-faced lion.

The boy looked up at Hans. Go.

Hans disappeared into the cover of the woods and headed west. He left behind a faint trail of disturbed moss or snags of fabric. The mission was to lure the Snow Queen, not lose her completely.

Twisted yews, ferns, and slanted shafts of early morning sunlight revived memories. The days when the royal family participated in hunting parties. Hans backtracked and looped through the wilderness, hoping to recreate the trail of an elusive fox his brothers once encountered.

"Stay focused," Hans muttered to himself. "Keep it together, keep it together..."

The sun was now directly overhead. Hans ignored the grumbling in his stomach. Humans could go weeks without food. But they could only go three days without water. Hans' rucksack was packed with a flask of it, but how long would that last? He didn't want to find out.

Water ran downhill and that's where he needed to go.

Legs growing weary from trekking through the woods, Hans finally heard the sweet sound of a glittering stream flowing over rocks and fallen branches. According to his compass, walking upstream would be northwest.

Dense wood gradually became rolling hills and lonely farmhouses. Across the clearing was the edge of Western Forest. There, Hans made camp.

Sparks flew into the starry night sky as the fire blazed. Hans reached out to adjust the crackling wood. Flames licked his hand but left it unscathed.

The silence was only interrupted by the occasional hoot of an owl or rustle of critters. Hans imagined Queen Elsa prowling in the dark like a young lioness waiting to pounce. Practicing magic would be a good way to prepare.

Magic.

All his life, it was suppressed and shunned. Once, the fire consumed the East Wing and trapped a servant. Erik was a hero while Hans lay engulfed in turbulent flames.

"I'm so sorry. They're right...I'm a monster," whispered fourteen-year-old Hans. His brother had suffered second and third degree burns, the worst of them on his arms. All hope of control vanished in a giant puff of smoke.

"'No," Erik had rasped. "Don't be the monster they fear you are."

But there was no denying the truth. Hans was a monster. Burning an innocent soldier alive today proved that.

There was a loud crack.

A wave of ice flew at the fugitive. Hans dropped to the ground, scattering embers as he did. They began to ignite dry grass.

"Queen Elsa." Hans grimaced. "Fancy meeting you here."

Bodyguards unsheathed cruel swords, some stained with blood. Queen Elsa signalled for them to wait. "Hans. Please, submit yourself peacefully."

Hans willed the fire to crawl up the pines and drew his sword. The metal burned white with magic. Guards hurled themselves at Hans.

Wielding his enchanted sword was like swinging a hot knife through butter. But there were simply too many soldiers.

Hans threw himself into the roaring inferno and they skidded to a halt. As the flames enveloped him, Elsa shrieked with horror. She thrust her hands forward and a surge of shining snow smothered the raging fire.

Hans felt the queen rush to his side. Elsa was no murderer. She would save anyone if she could help it. Even the enemy.

"I don't understand," Elsa muttered. "Why?...How is he not burned?"

Get up, get up. Sparks flew from his fingertips. Elsa recoiled.

"What the-!"

He leapt up and swiped a hand. Flames slashed at Queen Elsa and her guards, the latter unfortunate enough to catch fire. Snow melted around Hans as the air snapped and popped. Elsa tried to save her men, perhaps overdoing it, because now they were popsicles.

"What are you?" she whispered.

Hans hurled fire at Elsa which she dodged. A circle around her erupted in flames. She sent a shockwave of cold wind to extinguish it. Hans snarled and blasted a continuous stream of fire. Elsa shielded herself from certain death. The ice melted and restrengthened steadily.

Pines around them were either ablaze or covered in snow. Elsa's attacks became increasingly sloppy. Hans had to admit he was exhausted too.

He staggered and looked down.

A jagged, steaming icicle protruded from his leg. He groaned and collapsed onto blackened grass. Hans yanked the icicle out and slapped a hand onto the wound. It was cauterised instantly, but Hans lay helpless.

"G-get on with it," he almost begged. The pain was blinding.

Elsa squared her shoulders. "I am no murderess. You need medical attention."