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1591, Norway
Jarla Solheim slowly grew into a young beautiful woman. She was already fourteen years old when she woke up in a warm July week, hearing footsteps close to the room. The girl rubbed her head sleepy and sat up. Tired she put her long hair behind her ears. It was nearly complete silver now. Every night, another small strand changed into the bright colour, leaving only a few ones black. The young girl didn't like her new looks and she didn't understand how it happened, but she got punished badly with many hits by the older women. Yet the orphanage was her home.
"Jarla", she heard her name after the door opened, which made some other children wake up. They all looked at the grey haired woman that entered the small room, waiting for her to continue. "You'll turn 15 soon. You won't be a child any longer, Jarla. We have to help other kids now, the ones who are younger than you", the woman told the small girl, that shook her head quickly. What was wrong with her? Didn't they want her anymore? Would they just throw her out, letting her starve?
"I don't want to go", the young girl replied, pulling her blanket closer. She was scared. This place was her home. "But you have to. We need the bed and..." Jarla stood up as tears built up in her eyes. "I can sleep on the floor if you want me to", she suggested but the woman shook her head. "You're not longer wanted", she said harshly. Jarla felt the wet tears running down her face when she ran to the older one, grabbing her dress with her small hands. "Please. I have no one", she begged but the woman showed no emotion on her face. The kid had to leave and she would make sure of it.
"Please, I'll die out there", she tried again so the woman pushed her off, making the girl fall to the hard ground. Her wrist hurt badly but she stood up again, only for the older one to grab her roughly. "Come on, child", she demanded and dragged her out of the room, earning cries from the silver haired. "Let go off me!", she shouted, groaning when the woman pressed her already hurt wrist together. "Don't you want to give chances to other children?", she asked while they reached the end of the stairs.
The little girl cried badly. Her home was taken away from her, the home where her parents left her. "You're hurting me!", she yelled, talking about her wrist but the woman kept going. "I said you're hurting me", the girl repeated , many tears ran down her face. Her sadness and the disappointment grew into anger as soon as she saw the door. It reminded her of her own fate. The girl pressed her nails into her palm, feeling weirdly heavy.
Jarla tried to pull her wrist back but the woman kept her strong grip, leading the silver haired to scream. "Stop it!" Within seconds dark ice left her hands, hitting the older woman and turning her into an ice statue.
Shocked the girl stumbled back, falling to the ground. Her hands touched it to catch her fall, so a big skin of ice covered the whole floor and ran up the walls and the stairs. Jarla could see her own breath while icicles started to grow on the ceiling. The silver haired ran upstairs to call for help, but she soon had to realise that the whole building and every person in it was completely frozen.
