𝚝𝚎𝚗

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The songs the wireless were playing danced across the walls of the living room

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The songs the wireless were playing danced across the walls of the living room. Across the large room, pictures of the Opals were hung. There was one that Phillis always found particularly interesting. It was one of Virginia and Helen both smiling at the camera, holding a newborn Phillis and a month old Edmund. Both Elmer and Peter were grinning at the little miracles of life in their mothers' arms. Another was of Helen and Virginia when they were younger. Either way, the Pevensies seemed to be all over their living room and Phillis found it weird, considering the Pevensies didn't live there and they most certainly were not part of their family.
Elmer and Virginia danced in the living room to the beautiful sound of Vera Lynn. "Come on, Phil," Virginia laughed. "Get up and dance with me, darling!"
Phillis rolled her eyes, she reckoned her mother had had one too many wines that evening. Ralph held his hand out to his barely teenage daughter, who merely scoffed and slapped his hand away. "Come on, Philly," Elmer sighed, "Father's going away in the morning. Don't be such a dark cloud."
He made a reference to the song with a chuckle but Phillis only glared at her brother, rolling her eyes at him.
"Shut up," Phillis snapped at her brother, she stood up and stormed out of the room, saying, "God, I hate you all so much."
Ralph felt slightly hurt at his daughter's sharp words and stone cold glare. He knew she loved him, but sometimes, he figured, it never hurt to be reminded.
And so, he danced with his son and wife to the promising words of Vera Lynn's 'We'll Meet Again'.

Phillis rose, her forehead covered in sweat. She hated the memory and now it had come back in her sleep. She'd been so horrible to her father on the evening before he left and now she was in a different land and she had no inkling on her father's whereabouts or if he was even alive. Her only regret in life was not getting up to dance with her dad that night.
The sun was peering over the hills, and Lucy and Susan were gone. With a heavy sigh, she pulled her sheathed swords onto her belt, her magic flute tucked away under her left sword. She pinned her hair back, and left the tent. She was shocked to see some people up and about already as it must've been about five in the morning.
The sun was high over the horizon when Peter, Edmund and Elmer finally emerged, grave looks captivated their faces. Phillis quickly rose from her spot next to Cobalt to ask them what was wrong, to which they explained the heartbreaking news of Aslan's passing.
Peter exited Aslan's tent, a grim look present on his usually cheery features. "She's right. He's gone."
Oreius stood quietly behind Edmund and Elmer, whilst Phillis stood by Cobalt's side opposite the three. "Then you'll have to lead us," Edmund said. "Peter, there's an army out there and it's ready to follow you."
"I can't," Peter said quickly.
"Aslan believed you could," Elmer said, smiling supportively at his best friend.
"And so do I," Edmund muttered, Peter turning to face him, nodding.
"The Witch's army is nearing, sire," Cobalt informed him.
"What are your orders?" Oreius asked.

Phillis stood on top of the cliff, decked out in armour, her swords hung on her waist, the flute tucked behind one of them. Mr. Beaver and Edmund were by her side too. A griffin flew overhead before landing next to Peter, Oreius and Elmer. Peter and Elmer sat upon the powerful horses they'd trained on. Cobalt was on the front line, surrounded by cheetahs and leopards. As the Witch's army began to emerge, Elmer turned to his sister, who sent him a small smile and a curt nod.
Phillis let out a shaky breath before turning to see Edmund staring at her. Now wasn't the time to make jokes and tease each other, so instead, they gave each other small smiles. The White Witch's army was much larger than Peter's. There were giants and minotaurs and tigers. Phillis felt a shiver run down her spine as she recalled what Father Christmas had said to her a lifetime ago.

𝙸𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙰𝙱𝙻𝙴. ➪ 𝙴. 𝙿𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚎 Where stories live. Discover now