Far away, as far north as any man, woman, or child had ever been, once stood the Enchanted Forest. This beautiful forest was protected by the spirits of air, fire, water, and earth. Among all this beauty dwelled a mysterious people called the Northuldra. They were nomads who lived off the land and followed their reindeer herds wherever they roamed. Because the Northuldra were in harmony with nature, it was thought that they were magical.
One day, ships arrived at the entrance to the fjord south of the Enchanted Forest—wooden ships full of people who were determined to create a home for themselves near the water. Soon the kingdom of Arendelle came to be, and a magnificent castle was built for the royal family.
The newcomers were welcomed by the Northuldra’s ruler when he met with their king on a cliff as the sun set. The leaders firmly shook hands, and the meeting was seen by others only in hazy silhouette as they cast great shadows across the land.
To demonstrate their goodwill and friendship, the Arendellians built a mighty dam in the Enchanted Forest. They placed it on the river that flowed into the Arenfjord, the deep blue body of water upon which Arendelle Castle had been built. The dam connected all the lands and made it easier for the Northuldra and their reindeer to roam. King Runeard, the leader of Arendelle, offered it to the Northuldra as a symbol of peace and cooperation between the two groups.
When the dam was complete, the Arendellians threw a great celebration. Northuldra from all over the land gathered at the base of the dam to mingle and feast with the Arendellians. For Prince Agnarr, the young son of King Runeard, it was the farthest from home he had ever been. His eyes danced with wonder and excitement…until his father noticed.
King Runeard flicked Agnarr under the chin and gave him a look that the prince knew better than to challenge. He directed his son to stand straight and proud—to be regal.
“Remember, Agnarr—you represent Arendelle.” Agnarr obeyed, as the king knew he would. “And mind Lieutenant Mattias,” his father advised, motioning to a young man in uniform.
Mattias stood at attention as the king walked away with his guards. The lieutenant knew the disappointment in Agnarr’s eyes. It wasn’t just that King Runeard had wanted him to act royally, like a diplomat instead of a boy. It was also that he had left Agnarr behind—away from the talk with the elders and the Northuldra leader.
But Mattias knew exactly what to do. He stepped up beside Agnarr and mused, “You’re getting taller. Stop that.” He nudged the young prince with his elbow. Agnarr smiled and gave him a jab back. “Eh, I’m just kidding. Come on. Let’s go.” The two interlocked arms, jockeying for position in a friendly wrestling match on their way down to the festivities.
At the heart of the celebration, the Northuldra and the Arendellians intermingled, eating and drinking, talking and laughing as if they were the very best of friends. The Northuldra even put on a show, demonstrating tricks on the backs of their reindeer.
But something deeper in the forest caught Agnarr’s eye. It was so amazing, it couldn’t possibly have been real. He thought he saw the silhouette of a girl about his age, spinning up and down in the air as she twirled with the leaves in the wind. She wasn’t dangling from trees or clinging to vines, but somehow she floated as if she weighed nothing.
Mesmerized, Agnarr moved toward her. It was only after he heard the clashing of swords, shields, and staffs that the trance he seemed to have been in was broken. He turned and saw that his people were being attacked! The charm and magic of the Northuldra had only been a trick. Agnarr gave the girl one last look, not wanting to believe that the fighting was real. But she was gone—as if she had never been there at all.
The whoosh of an arrow passing Agnarr’s head froze him in his spot. He had never been that close to danger before.
“Get behind me,” Mattias said, and pulled Agnarr out of the way just before another arrow zipped by, right where his head had been.
Agnarr was dazed and could only watch as the brutal battle raged before them, arrows flying and shields defending. He froze when he saw his father, sword in hand, facing the Northuldra leader. Mattias held tight to Agnarr as the prince yelled for his father. All he wanted to do was help him.
The prince was able to free himself—but only after the king and the Northuldra leader had plunged over the edge of a cliff.
“Father!” Agnarr roared like a soldier of old and rushed through the battle to get to the cliff’s edge and search for his father. But fire erupted before him, and the flames and heat pushed him back.
A massive blast shot across the forest like a shock wave. The Northuldra and Arendellian soldiers ran for their lives as water crashed into the dam with a sound like thunder. The wind began to rage violently while boulders fell from the sky like bombs. One landed at Agnarr’s feet, and the force of the impact tossed him through the air. When he hit the ground, his head slammed against a rock. As he began to lose consciousness and his vision faded, he noted sadly that the lush beauty of the forest had been destroyed.
At the same time, he heard a haunting voice, like someone overcome with the grief of centuries, wailing an eerie melody. Agnarr had never experienced anything like it before. The Northuldra had mentioned that the dam was inhabited by the spirits of the people who had built it. Is that voice a spirit? Is it angry? Agnarr asked himself.
Somehow, the prince was moved out of the forest by an unseen force that floated him through the air while the chaos continued beneath him. Then the deafening roar fell silent as the angry spirits stopped raging, and a mist, as thick and impenetrable as stone, enveloped the forest, locking some people in and others out….
“And that night, I came home King of Arendelle,” King Agnarr said.
The king’s candle cast flickering shadows on his face as he told his story to his young daughters, Anna and Elsa. The girls were huddled together on Elsa’s bed with their mother, Queen Iduna, listening to every word their father said, their eyes wide and their mouths hanging open. Their mother drew them close to her, all three of them gathered under the comforting weight of her burgundy scarf.
“Whoa, Papa, that was epic,” Anna said, collapsing on the bed as she pictured everything that had happened. “Whoever saved you, I love them.”
The king smiled at his little girl. “I wish I knew who it was.”
“Were the Northuldra really magical?” Elsa wondered aloud. She didn’t want to be anything like them. She couldn’t imagine hurting her friends. “Like me?”
“No,” King Agnarr assured her. “They were not magical. They just enjoyed the magic of the forest.”
“What happened to the spirits? What’s in the forest now?” Elsa wondered if anyone else had made it out after the spirits had gotten angry and turned on everyone.
“I don’t know,” King Agnarr replied. “The mist still stands. No one can get in, and no one has come out since.”
Queen Iduna locked eyes with her husband, warning him to be careful with his words. She wanted to make sure their daughters didn’t feel scared. “So we’re safe,” she said.
“Yes,” King Agnarr agreed. “But the forest could wake again, and we must be prepared for whatever danger it may bring.”
Queen Iduna watch a flood of worry wash over Elsa’s face at her father’s words, and she intervened. “On that note, how about we say good night to your father,” she said. Both girls were much too young to think about fighting of any kind…especially when she was trying to get them to sleep. King Agnarr stood, and his face held an apology for his wife.