To Learn

Chapter 2: The Power of Fear

"Forgive me, Your Majesty." The fox apologized and bowed. I frowned, has he lost his mind?

"Oh, don't waste my time with flattery." The Witch snapped at the fox.

"Not to seem rude," the fox started "but I wasn't actually talking to you." He looked at Edmund when he finished. Yes, he has indisputably lost his mind.

Majesty?... The prophecy! Two Sons of Adam and two Daughters of Eve! How could I've forgotten, this is why the Witch is so desperate to find them. I felt alarmed, that means Edmund has now much less chances of surviving the night.

The Witch looked at Edmund, and then walked forward, twirling the staff in her hands slowly before abruptly pointing it at the fox. "Where is Aslan?" The fox, though fearful did not answer. The Witch raises her staff, seconds away from turning the fox to stone. Edmund suddenly leaps in front of him "Wait! The Beavers said something about the Stone table and an army."

There was silence "Thank you Edmund." Edmund starts to turn slowly, realizing what he had just done. The fox's head fell in defeat. I look at Edmund sympathetically; I knew the felling very well. "It is good for this creature to see honesty before he dies!"

"No!" the fox was turned to stone regardless of Edmund's plea. And then, to my chagrin, he was slapped across the face. I manage to cut my growl short, I do not wish to cause more suspicion than I already have. "On whose side are you on? Mine..." she grabs his face a roughly turns it to the side "or theirs?"

She let go of Edmund's face, while he still looked with glazy eyes at the stone fox, "Gather the faithful, if it's a war what Aslan wants..." she flicked her wrist and with frightening accuracy petrified a nearby butterfly "a war he shall get."

I suddenly felt unsure and uneasy. Something doesn't feel right...

"But first..." Jadis turns and looks at me "You shall have a little practice." Her smile was cruel; colder than the harshest winter.

I instantly stood up, and braced myself for the feral inferno that was coming my way. Maugrim and his pack started to corner me, growling and barking menacingly. I won't come out completely unscratched, but I should have no problem throwing them to the river, I was far stronger. Then another growl started to drown out the rest of the pack's in my ears. Luce. The only other wolf that could match my strength.

We were once humans; friends, born and raised together, sisters despite not sharing blood. She would've been a victim of my blind temptation, until I discovered it was the other way around: we were the bargain, for the power the Witch promised her. What I did had no consequences, but the intention was still there, which is why I still feel guilty. To hold hard feelings against Luce would be hypocritical.

She was once radiant, energetic; beautiful even at the age of ten. Her hair was like waves of gold in the wind, her eyes like fresh grass in spring. She loved dresses, to attend parties and drink tea. She loved cats and never knew the word "hungry". Or patience, for that matter. She loved, and still does, to have things done her way. She had ambitions, dreams and goals. She knew what she wanted. She preferred to be outside, and walk for hours talking and laughing with her fellow aristocrat friends. She had a charisma that could persuade even the most shy of individuals. She played the violin and had a melodic voice. She never knew what was like to be raised by just one parent, or what is like to be orphan at all. She was, and still is a bit impulsive and superficial, that I cannot deny. She was outspoken and somewhat reckless, but ironically graceful when needed. And she always exceeded the expectations of other.

I am not any of those. I've always preferred privacy, and though I do not consider myself ugly, I am not radiant. I am passive and quiet. Like I've said before, my hair and eyes are the darkest shade of mahogany. My skin was slightly bronzed, and I do not know what is like to be raised with a mother. My dad... he gave his all, he never blamed me for mom, whose health worsened after my birth. He never asked me to be like her, just to be a good person, to be independent and have my own beliefs. He always cheered me to do my best in everything I did. To be proud whenever I succeeded or not, because I at least tried and gave my all. To never judge a person for his past actions, his origins or his beliefs. I wonder if he missed me at all...

My thoughts are cut short when a mass of white fur is suddenly too close. I heard boyish a yelp and a thud, but the pain those jaws caused as they bit my fore chest drowned all sound away. I don't remember much after that, just lashing out at anything my jaws and claws could catch, the cries and snarls, and writhing and fighting with all I got. They had advantage in strength and numbers. I can mention that I may, or may have not killed some of the wolves.

I was not killed. After who knows how long until the "fight", if I could even call it that, stopped, and I ended a mess of whimpers and blood. Then agony of being dragged through the unforgiving forest floor, the twigs and dirt upsetting my wounds further, was too much. Before I knew it everything turned dark and I felt coldly numb.