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    Frozen Hearts: European Fairytales Retold, #1
    Frozen Hearts: European Fairytales Retold, #1
    Frozen Hearts: European Fairytales Retold, #1
    Ebook129 pages2 hours

    Frozen Hearts: European Fairytales Retold, #1

    By Cara Ruegg

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    About this ebook

    Dark magic is at work.

    A strange sickness plagues the land.

    Aksel must learn to control his powers before they control him.

    Twelve-year-old Aksel doesn't want to be different, he doesn't want fingers that glow with ice, doesn't want powers that freeze whatever he touches. He's terrified of being found out, or worse—hurting someone with powers he can't control.

    But when a strange illness overtakes his town and claims those he loves, Aksel has to face more than just coming to terms with his strange abilities. With the help of his younger sister, Cathrine, and some unexpected friends, he must journey to the tip of the mountain and go find The Snow Queen who is believed to be responsible for the curse.

    A retelling of THE SNOW QUEEN by Hans Christian Andersen. A story of redemption and love. Fans of the Wingfeather saga, Narnia, and Lord of the Rings will love this Christian Fantasy.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCara Ruegg
    Release dateNov 1, 2023
    ISBN9798223134084
    Frozen Hearts: European Fairytales Retold, #1

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      Book preview

      Frozen Hearts - Cara Ruegg

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      Your support is much appreciated.

      AuthorCaraRuegg.com

      Dedicated with love to my far and mor.

      "Roses bloom and cease to be,

      But we shall the Christ-child see."

      - The Snow Queen: Hans Christian Andersen

      Translations

      Danish words

      Mor means mother

      Far means father

      Mormor means grandmother (mother’s mother)

      Farmor means grandmother (father’s mother)

      Juleaften means Christmas Eve

      Lille rød means little red

      lille pige means little girl

      French Words

      Mère means mother

      Père means father

      Grand-mère means grandmother

      Petit rouge means little red

      A Note to Readers on Possible Triggers

      This story has some possibly scary bits in it. Of course, my intention as an author is not to scare my readers and I tried not to be too graphic, but I felt it necessary to include some of these scarier scenes since they seemed necessary for the progression of this story.

      If you are a sensitive reader, you might want a trusted adult to read the book first so they can skip over any scenes that might upset you. 

      This book is overall a very hopeful story with a redemptive arc. I would not classify it as overly dark by any means, but I recognize some things might come across as scary to some people.

      Possible Triggers are:

      ❖  An illness that puts people into a coma

      ❖  Some mild fighting scenes

      ❖  Talk of a past murder, and a flashback that is not detailed regarding that murder

      Chapter One

      The Glass Mirror

      Fragments of powdery snow swept across Zabina’s face. She watched the hobgoblin, with its scrawny limbs and hairy body, lean over the precious glass pieces. They looked much like ice to her, just as translucent and delicate. She held a piece up, a tiny square—wet with winter’s dew. She tried to see herself, but all she could see were her curled fingers on the other side. 

      How does it work? Zabina asked the hairy beast, lowering the ice to the floor of her castle.

      Some use mercury, others a precious rock, but I find magic much quicker. He grinned her way, his pointy teeth dripping with goopy saliva. 

      She sat on her throne, smoothing the wrinkles on her long, silver dress. White hair fell down and framed her pale cheeks, bringing out the darkness of her richly blue eyes that looked almost black in certain lighting. 

      Dark magic is forbidden in these parts. She said it merely as a fact, not a warning; she had long ago given up on following the rules. The dark did not scare her, or, if it did, she refused to admit it. 

      What do you wish to use the mirror for? The hobgoblin asked. 

      She sucked back an icy cold breath that dragged down her throat and made her wince. I have heard many an evil queen has one, not only to admire herself but also to be like an all-seeing god. There was more to it, though—more than just seeing all. She did not, in fact, want to see all— just one—someone she had left behind. Her heart shifted uncomfortably behind her chest at the thought of him.

      Strands of grey light flickered from the hobgoblin’s fingers as he chanted the spell over the glass. The pieces began to line up perfectly. The hobgoblin held it up for her to see as it continued to sew the broken pieces together. All was going as planned. The Snow Queen could even see her reflection now: her middle-aged face that still looked young, her narrow nose with a single freckle on the side. She stood and came closer, allowing her fingers to touch the delicate surface that burned. 

      But then the blinding light of the sun shone through a small crevice of the window. It reflected its great light upon the magical mirror—straight into Zabina’s dark eyes. 

      She stumbled backwards, then forward. Her hands, once so careful, now clumsily struck the glass as she fell onto it, nearly flattening the hobgoblin on the other side. 

      The glass beneath the weight of her body slowly cracked open. Small shards, mixed with the grey magic strands, emerged like puffs of smoke. As they rose, they tangled themselves into the wind and blew right out the window. 

      Aksel looked through the window. He and his sister, Cathrine, held up pennies warmed by the stovetop against the clear pane so that the heat could melt away the fog and give them a sharper picture of the bustling little town. Lampposts glittered, dimmed, then brightened as a line of mist swept over them. It was a grey morning in the small town of Oplyst. Its houses, all square and so close to each other they were touching, sat quietly. The yellow glow of candlesticks on top of the pine trees flickered through windows encased in ice. 

      A family wrapped in fur coats with scarves touching their lips walked down the sidewalk before stopping at a house across the street. A little boy knocked on the door. It opened to let them in. Aksel squinted, trying to see what decorations they had set out for Christmas, but the family’s fur coats blocked his view, and then the door closed. 

      The julenisse will pull your ear if you do not set the table for lunch, Aksel, Mormor said jokingly, fingers white with flour rubbing at her apron. 

      The julenisse were red-dressed little gnomes with long white beards and silly triangle hats of knitted cloth that often fell in their faces. They did not exactly scare Aksel or anyone for that matter. They looked far too harmless. Still, he did as told. Unlike the julenisse, Mormor Bente was intimidating. 

      Aksel swept back white-blond hair before taking the plates with their decorative blue designs to the table. In the middle, Mormor Bente had already laid out the bread and cold meats. 

      We’ve invited both the Holms and the Becks to join us, Bente said.

      Aksel proceeded to count the chairs. His mormor had already added extra, but it would be a tight fit. We don’t have a long enough table for both families, though. 

      We will all just have to squeeze in then. It’ll be fine. You’re quite skinny, after all. She pinched his bicep and laughed.

      He merely shrugged. He didn’t mind squeezing in, though he wasn’t too sure how his mor would feel about it. She was always fretting about not having enough food or enough space. 

      What is this about not a long enough table? Laura appeared from behind the doorframe. Her dirty-blonde hair was pulled up into a sleek bun, and her face painted with makeup—something she only ever did when company was coming. 

      Mormor said she’s invited both the Holms and the Becks, Aksel said. 

      Both of them? Laura’s blue eyes widened.

      We have enough room, Mormor assured her. She walked over and placed her wrinkled hands on her daughter’s shoulders and proceeded to massage them. All will be fine. I promise. We’ve had a full house before. 

      Why both families? 

      Why not? Tenna is Cathrine’s best friend, and Mikkel is Aksel’s. 

      I’m not sure how I feel about the Becks, though; they are so nosey. She quickly glanced around the humble cottage, looking for anything that might be misplaced. There’s dust on the windowsill. She sighed, grabbing a damp cloth to wipe it with. And whose cup is just sitting there on the coffee table? 

      Mormor watched her, a smile on her face. You worry too much, my dear. Nobody will notice a small pinch of dust or a cup that’s been forgotten. They will be far too busy eating.

      The Becks would notice and talk about it for a week. 

      You’re being ridiculous. Nobody would bother gossiping about such minuscule things, and if they did—who’d listen? I’d fall asleep to gossip like that.

      Cathrine brushed against Aksel as she headed to the table to better align the napkins—confident her mor would notice those next. 

      Mor’s going to be uptight till Christmas day, Aksel whispered to his sister. 

      "Better close your

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