The Fateful Journey

The sun was setting on the horizon as the ship carrying Queen Iduna, her husband King Agnarr, and their daughters, Elsa and Anna, sailed through the choppy waters of the fjord. Iduna stood at the bow, her brown hair blowing in the wind, her eyes fixed on the distant shores of Ahtohallan. She was traveling to the mystical river to seek answers about her daughters' powers and the future of their kingdom, Arendelle. King Agnarr stood beside her, his arm around her shoulders, his eyes filled with concern. "Are you sure this is a good idea, Iduna?" he asked, his voice low and gentle. "The journey is treacherous, and Ahtohallan is a mysterious place." Iduna turned to him, her eyes shining with determination. "I have to do this, Agnarr. For our daughters, for our kingdom. I have to know the truth." Elsa and Anna, aged 16 and 14 respectively, stood at the rail, their faces alight with excitement. Elsa's long, golden hair blew in the wind, while Anna's bright smile lit up the gloomy afternoon. The two sisters were chatting and laughing, their spirits high, as they gazed out at the passing landscape. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky darkened, and the wind began to pick up. The ship creaked and groaned, its timbers straining against the force of the gale. Iduna's grip on the rail tightened as the waves crashed against the hull, threatening to capsize the vessel. "Agnarr, we have to get the girls below!" she shouted above the din of the storm. But it was too late. A massive wave crashed over the bow, sweeping Iduna off her feet. She felt herself tumbling through the air, her stomach lurching as she plunged into the icy waters. She surfaced, gasping for air, and looked around frantically for her family. The ship was gone, lost in the darkness, and Agnarr was nowhere to be seen. She called out his name, but her voice was drowned out by the storm. As she struggled to stay afloat, Iduna saw a figure in the distance, clinging to a piece of wreckage. It was Agnarr, his eyes locked on hers, his face filled with a deep sadness. "Agnarr!" she shouted, swimming towards him. But as she reached out to grab him, he slipped beneath the waves, his eyes fading into the darkness. Iduna was left alone, her heart shattered into a million pieces. She clung to a nearby piece of debris, her body numb with shock and grief. The storm raged on, but she was lost in her own private hell, mourning the loss of her beloved husband. As the night wore on, Iduna's thoughts turned to her daughters, Elsa and Anna. Where were they? Were they safe? She prayed that they had survived the wreck, that they would be found and cared for. The storm finally began to subside, leaving Iduna exhausted, injured, and adrift. She closed her eyes, her body rocking gently on the waves, and let the darkness take her. When she came to, she was lying on a sandy beach, her head throbbing with pain. She opened her eyes to find a group of strangers staring down at her, their faces filled with concern. "Where...where am I?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. One of the strangers, an older man with a kind face, smiled and said, "You're in the Southern Isles, my queen. We've brought you to our king, Westergaard. He'll take care of you." Iduna's eyes widened as the man's words sank in. The Southern Isles? What did he mean? And who was King Westergaard? As she struggled to sit up, a sharp pain shot through her head, and she fell back onto the sand. The strangers rushed to her side, helping her to lie down and offering her water. Iduna took a sip, feeling a surge of gratitude towards these kind strangers. She knew that she had a long and difficult journey ahead of her, but for now, she was alive, and that was all that mattered.