REIGNING VIXEN | Edmund Pevensie

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ: ᴘʜʏꜱɪᴄᴀʟ ʀᴇꜱᴘᴏɴꜱᴇ

“What is with all the fuss! I can hear that horrendous screech from the other side of this house!” And then an annoying voice broke the almost feeling of his lips, Edmund's features dropping a bit as he sent a glare to the newly arrived.

Following his gaze, a blonde boy was standing there with a narked expression. His outfit consisted of a vest with a long-sleeved shirt underneath. What caught my attention was when he walked forward, noticing how his left footing felt somewhat bothered with an object he possibly placed there.

“Let me,” My hand gripped the arm of the person beside me, the offer making him halt his action of moving. “You must be Eustace.”

Shock was clear to not only the boy but also the other two people in the room. Which was understandable, seeing as the boy seemed to have also recognized me, and how Lucy and Edmund might be disbelieved by the fact I said a name– correctly.

“Hoh! Oh, I know you! You're Ophelia Wellington! The granddaughter of the great, intelligent Holmes!”

“Your cousin gave your description no justice,” I commented, letting his previous awe morph back into annoyance with what came next. “He said you looked exactly like a pig,” Then finally became irritation. “I beg to differ. I'd say you fit literally the aspects of an insect.”

That left him to fall silent, making me turn back to the others. But it's as if my eyes were automatically directed elsewhere, getting it stuck to the painting. The two seemed to notice my actions, following it with a similar look. An arm grasped away at my waist, a refreshing heat wafting off from the doer.

“Is it my eyes playing games or have you turned more heavenly?” Edmund uttered to my ear, straying me away from the mysterious object. From the peripherals of my vision, Lucy seemed to frown which speedily changed into her usual smile when I glanced at her.

Suddenly remembering my initial reason of arriving here, the compliment went through the other ear. “Mere few months of leaving you be and you've gotten more idiotic.”

Dumbfound immediately creased on his face, a questioning stare shortly following.

“Do you not recall the alarming news written on your letter?”

“What alarming news— do you mean the misfortune of facing Eustace Scrubb on a daily basis?” The moron had the audacity to chuckle, making me give him a death glare. At the same time, ignoring the rebuttal of the aforementioned blonde child.

“Not on your side of the message.”

It took only four seconds for him to process it then sent his sister a suspicious look. “Lucy? What did you tell her?”

“Sorry, Ed.” She sheepishly looked away, a mischievous trigger from her making me see through her guilty facade.

“The army? Really?” I smacked his chest, a look of realization hitting him. “Do you not have any common sense left in you?!”

“Listen—”

“No, I came here to reply,” Interrupting him with a scowl, I pointed at my face. “This is the letter,” Using the other hand, I pulled his ear harshly with a tight grip. “And this is the message.”

“Ow! Phel— Ow! I'm sorry!” Edmund tried prying off my hold, making me intentionally pinch it harder. “Ouch! Stop it— Love, come on!”

After at least a good half of a minute, I finally let it go with a huff. He partnered it with a heavy sigh of relief, clutching onto both his red angry ear, and my pain-inducing hand for safety precautions.

“Really really sorry, Ed.” Lucy giggled in satisfaction, earning a vexed groan from her brother.

“Serves him right.” The other kid tried to add in, instantly silencing when I threw him the same promising glare.

By now, I could feel that he had a massive dislike to the two Pevensies, the hate majorly focused on the male. It gave me the inkling that it was him who threw the spitball I saw downstairs, the odd smell from Edmund's neck amidst our embrace confirming the claim.

“I didn't even get in.” The latter reasoned out, a pout on his lips.

“Still, you attempted. This means you will not get your Turkish Delight.” By that, a look of pure horror washed over his face. Whatever was his reply went into deaf ears as once more a strong scent of ocean air filtered my nose. It transferred my concentration on the golden-framed image, blinking rapidly as an unexpected weight of magic rained down on me. The drops of it drowned me in a rapid motion, overwhelming my senses with the explosion of nostalgia.

“Lucy, have you seen this ship before?” A strange feeling also went into Edmund's suspicion, momentarily forgetting about our recent conversation.

“Yes, it's very Narnian-looking, isn't it?”

As if it took our trio in a trance, luring us in with a small unnoticeable melody of calling. “Yeah. . . well, just another reminder that we're here and not there.”

“There once were two orphans, who wasted their time believing in Narnian nursery rhymes.” The ringing of the picture acted as a restraint for me to produce motion, encasing me with a sturdy grip.

“Please let me hit him.” Please do! Never came out as I wished for it to, my mouth seemingly sealed as it forced me to focus only on one thing. The painting.

Realistically done was the strokes of artistry, hues picked with delicate care. The volume of talent spoke as if it was an entire movie, the teal waters drawn with waves that swallowed the viewer. In the distance was the scene of a ship with sails so rich and violet, a golden light shining down the face of the front where a majestic being was carved with most fiery passion. Clouded was the sky but the sun won the battle of covers, forcing rays to fall down and cascade the entire imagery. Even the sounds of continuous barking from the trio couldn't release me from the hold of the fascinating swirls of mystical magic.

“You wouldn't see it from the other side of the door.” Even commending him for that comment was also deprived from me, frustration now bubbling on the pits of my being. T'was the first time this ever happened, like something wasn't allowing me to lose sight of the canvas.

“Edmund, it looks like the water's actually moving,” Like a trigger went off for time to proceed, the painting did exactly what came out of the girl. The waves slowly but surely spread out from each other, wind physically blowing out of the painting. Lucy seemed to have noticed my state, placing a worried hand on my shoulder. “Are you all right, Phel?”

Her concern grew more as the next events took place. Because as the first drop of water came out of the frames, the glow of blue surrounded my irises which intensified as the ship moved closer to our forms. The noises from all of them were very audible for my ears to catch, yet wasn't enough to snap me out of my reverie. By now, the painting was pouring an infinite amount of water, the level of it on the floor now reaching my ankles.

Screams for his mother echoed from Eustace, terror evident in his voice. Right as that happened, a slam on my shoulder finally allowed me to unconsciously take a few steps backwards. Yelling rang from the two siblings as their cousin took the obvious portal out of its place, battling it out of his grip until it fell down deep to the ground where the currents of the wave pushed stronger.

“Edmund, be careful!” Lucy's panicked scream got my attention to blink to them, letting me stare at the mentioned boy. He was struggling to push obstacles away from him as he made his way to my direction, his eyes never once straying away as clouds of worry encircled his body. Then after one mighty jump of effort, he swam on the water which was rising to the level of my chest, and successfully arrived in front of me.

His arms quickly latched on myself in a secure grip, whispering sweet comfort to my ears as he stared at my ever-glowing eyes. Edmund steadied us a bunch of times until the water eventually reached to cover our faces and drowned the room until everything was floating freely. It was scary, to think that I might not even make it out of this alive, but the determined feeling of his embrace allowed me to snap out of the frozen state and move to the rhythm he desired.