Most children think that a jolly fellow named Santa Claus lives at the northernmost part of the world in a magical land known as the North Pole.  This is really a misconception.  It is true that there is a land at the top of the world, but Santa Claus does not live there.  In fact, no human has ever set foot in this world.
Instead, it is populated by a race of giants.  These are not, however, like the typical giant that a child might imagine from a fairy tale.  They are the ice giants of Gondlibad.  They are about nine feet tall and made from an ice that is immune to heat.  They are intelligent and kind, but if something should threaten them or their kingdom, they will seek revenge with a passion.
The land they live in is completely covered in ice.  Their houses look like that of a human, except for the difference in height.  The roads are paved with ice, and they all lead to the center of the kingdom.  At the center stands the magnificent castle of the king of the snow giants.
These snow giants take much pride in the castle.  Its dimensions are enormous and dwarf any human castle.  They are constantly adding to this huge structure.  It is made of ice,of course, (they do not have many resources).  Inside are great banquet halls, massive store rooms, and beautiful bedrooms.
The kingdom might have been thought of as cold and lonely, but, somehow, it seemed to possess some magic that gave it a more homey feel.  It felt warm and cozy.  All the giants love their kingdom.  This is why it was so terrible for them when their king was kidnapped.

*     *    *

It was a beautiful day in the kingdom of the snow giants.  There was a new layer of snow and a beautifulful gray sky.The perfect weather for the coronation ceremony.  The prince was busy with preparations.  He was nervous.  His father’s death had been so sudden.  The prince was only eighteen and was about to become king. 
The prince was not sure if he could bear the burden of leading these people.  His father had mysteriously disappeared a few days ago.  His name was Frostomir.  Something told him that his father was still alive. 
Frostomir was striding through the castle when he saw the silhouette of a figure.  Suddenly,        the figure leapt over the edge of the castle wall.  Frostomir rushed to the edge of the wall but saw no one.  This was strange. 
Later that day, Frostomir was walking through the courtyard when he saw a pair of glowing dots peering out from the little vegetation near the wall.  Frostomir rushed forward and leaped into the foliage.  He grasped about but could not feel anything except for the branches of the bushes tearing at him.
Frostomir decided to go search for this strange figure who kept reappearing.  He grabbed his sword, shield, cloak, and food.  The prince then set out from the kingdom.  He found a cave where he decided to rest.
As he went deeper into the cave,  he began to hear what he thought were voices.  As he crept further into the cave, the noise seemed to get louder.  As he rounded a bend, he saw the mysterious person.  It was about six feet tall, and when it turned around he saw that it was a human.
Frostomir ran forward and grabbed him by the collar on his cloak.  “Who are you?” he demanded.
“He made me do it!” screamed the human.
Frostomir was confused by this response. “What are you talking about? Tell me everything, and I will let you go.”
The stranger started telling his tale.  “I am Bartholomew, son of Martholgon.  I work for a monster by the name of Fieradon.  He is said to have been created by the gods themselves.  He is part dragon and part man.  He has scales made from pure sapphire.”
“But how does he relate to your tale?” asked Frostomir.
“He wants to seize control of the entire world.  He thinks that the snow giants are the most powerful creatures in the world.  If he can seize control of their kingdom, he believes that it will ease his conquest.  This is why he ordered me to kidnap your king.”
Frostomir was grateful for this information.  As he left the cave, the man came out and told Frostomir that he would be willing to show him the way to Fieradon’s lair.  And so the pair set off on a quest to defeat the mighty Fieradon.

*     *     *

It took them a whole year to reach their destination.  Finally the pair entered the land of ancient Greece.  They reached the small kingdom of Reno.
When they entered the square at the center of town, they found a large crowd gathered.  About five-hundred people had gathered.  They approached the crowd and saw  that the king was making a sacrifice of meat to the gods.  Frostomir went around to the other side of the crowd to get a better view.
He watched as the king was taking out a piece of meat.  But, just as the king was about to put the meat in the fire, he discretely switched it with a piece of moldy meat.  Frostomir rushed forward, but before he could stop him, the king threw the meat into the fire.
As Frostomir and Bartholomew walked away from the crowd, Frostomir told Bartholomew what he had seen.
“This is a very poor country, and I think that the king is saving what little meat they have left.  I fear that bad things shall come upon this land,” said Bartholomew.  The two of them then continued on their journey. 
  They soon found what they had been looking for.  It was a huge labyrinth.  Bartholomew shouted what appeared to be a password.  Suddenly, an opening appeared in the center of the wall.
As they entered, a hissing voice slithered its way through the air and reached the ears of Bartholomew and Frostomir.
“You have returned, my servant.”
“I have,” replied Bartholomew.
Suddenly, Fieradon materialized in front of them.  He was massive.  He had blue scales and his ribs were showing.
“What have you done?!” he roared.  “You have led an intruder into my lair!’
Fieradon rushed forward, but Frostomir was too quick.  Bartholomew, however, was hit.  He flew across the chamber and struck the wall.  Fieradon had been running so fast that he could not stop and crashed into the wall with such force that the walls began to crumble.
“We must get out of here!” yelled Frostomir.
Because Bartholomew was too injured to walk, Frostomir had to drag him out.  When they got outside, they heard a growl of rage just as the walls crumbled and Fieradon was sealed inside.
Frostomir realized that Bartholomew was dying and rushed to his side.
“I have a son,” said Bartholomew.  “His name is Derfus.  You must tell him of what happened.  Tell him the location of the labyrinth.  Goodbye my friend.”
Just then, Bartholomew’s breathing slowed, and he died.  Frostomir wept for a long time.  Then, a voice came from beside him.
“Is that you, my son?”
“Father!” cried Frostomir.
“I am sorry about your friend,” said the King.
“Thank you.  I must find his son,” said Frostomir.
They headed back into the town and discovered that the air was scorching hot.  There was no cool breeze to cool the villagers down.  All the crops were dying.  Frostomir remembered the sacrificial ceremony.  Zeus must have been angered, and this was their punishment.
Oh no! thought Frostomir.  Oh no!

To be continued…