Long ago, atop a mountain high above the kingdom of Arendelle, a group of strong men were hard at work. They were ice harvesters, men who cut and hauled huge blocks of ice from the mountain lakes. Horses stood at attention, waiting with empty wagons to be filled. The ice blocks were hoisted into the wagons; soon they would be taken down to the village to sell. It was a dangerous business. One slip could send a block hurtling ŗ down the mountainside — or even worse, falling on a man and crushing him.
A boy stood in the shadows watching the workmen. He kept a small sled at his side. His name was Kristoff, and he desperately wanted to join the ice harvesters, but he was too young. Standing next to him was his friend Sven, a baby reindeer. Kristoff imagined the two of them taking a sled full of ice blocks into the village of Arendelle. Sven sniffed the cold air and glanced at the big blocks of ice. They looked very heavy. He snorted but didn’t move a hoof.
As evening approached, Kristoff finally convinced Sven to carry a small load of ice on their sled. By now, the men had lit several lanterns and were finishing loading their own wagons. Kristoff crept forward and was able to grab a small block of ice. He finally wrestled the block onto his sled and attached Sven’s harness. Wagon by wagon, the ice harvesters headed down the mountain roads. Kristoff trailed behind with Sven, steering his own small wagon down the bumpy path. Above them all, the northern lights spread across the dark sky, creating waves of gossamer green light. The magical glow pulsed as it rolled over the mountains, down toward the kingdom below.