Royal Protector [Narnia]

Chapter VIII: The Witch

"You have a traitor in your midsts Aslan." She eyes Edmund with a predatory glare, her lips curled in a sly smirk

"His offence was not against you." Aslan's voice remained calm, placid as he was faced with the evil responsible for Narnia's long winter.

"Have you forgotten the laws upon which Narnia was built." A deep roar echoed the witch faltering in her step,

"Do not site the deep magic to me Witch. I was there when it was written." He grew irritated, her arrogant display of power exhausting,

"Then you'll remember well that every traitor belongs to me. His blood is my property." Enzo's lips curled into a low snarl, his sword releasing from its sheath, the metal bared at the Witch,

"Try it." The woman observed him slightly scarce, the look on his face proving determined,

"Do you think mere force, will deny me my right, Captain." His aggressive expression resisted, remaining steadfast absent of faltering as he glared at the woman.

"Aslan knows that unless I have my blood as the law demands, all of Narnia will be overturned and perish in Fire and Water. That boy will die on the stone table, as is tradition. You dare not refuse me." Aslan sighed his voice low, defeated,

"Enough, I shall talk with you alone." The Witch followed retreating inside.

Time passed slowly, Susan leaning into Enzo anxious of her brother impending fate.

The Witch strode from the tent, Aslan eyeing Edmund with a reassuring gaze,
"She has renounced her claim to the Son of Adams blood."

The allied troops celebrated the Witched voice protruding their joy, "How do I know your promise will be kept?"

Aslan growled at her forcing her into her chair as they reinstated celebrations, a crestfallen expression befalling Kallias, as he stood next to his apparent brother.

Enzo discovered Susan that evening perched aside a fire, a book befalling her lap, it's title a familiar and fond memory, "The history of Narnia?"

The girl laughed quietly as the boy sat perched before the orange embers, "Old enough to read fairytales, again your Highness?"

The Susan rolled her eyes, a fond smile gracing her lips, "Seems so, Sir Enzo."

The boy chuckled deeply, eyes overcome with fondness, "It's not your fault you know?"

Susan's eyes furrowed perplexed at his statement, as he continued his monologue, "I know that look, I have it often, your blaming yourself for not protecting them, for not protecting Lucy, or Edmund, it's not your fault you couldn't have known."

The girl exhaled loudly eyes trailing the ground, dimly lit by the flickering orange illumination.
"I could have believes Lucy, in the first place, maybe then I could have stopped the Witch taking Edmund, maybe-" Enzo cut her off his voice soft, understanding.

"Maybe, I could have watched him closer at the beavers damn, maybe I could have realised he was gone sooner." Susan shook her head, a delicate hand gracing his shoulder,

"You couldn't have know." Enzo chuckled his eyes lever with Susan,

"Your a hypocrite, Ms Pevensie." Susan giggled softly, eyeing Enzo's retreating figure with a sly smile, "And you should retire for the evening, it's getting dark and I wouldn't want you disappearing on me."

A cold breeze thrust Enzo into consciousness, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword, a collection of petal forming that of a dryad.

"Be still, Sir Enzo, I bring grave new from Susan and Lucy." His eyes widened the idea of either being endangered prominently his chest to heave rapidly.

"What is it? Are they alright." The dryad nodded slowly a sad expression becoming of her.

Enzo retreated from his tent the sight or Peter and Edmund only proving the dryad words true.

He sauntered toward both boys, "What the dryad said was true, he's dead?" Peter nodded solemnly, hands grasping at the maps table, as they debated battle strategy.

Enzo's armour ground against itself as he rode, mounted upon a black stallion, as he prepared. A griffin landed adjacent to Peter, his voice panicked, as he reported the sighting to his monarch.

"They come you highness, in numbers and weapons far greater than our own." The centaur scoffed eyes glazing the battlefield,

"Number do not win a battle." Enzo chuckled deeply, his responses ironically humorous,

"No but they certainly help."