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"When the leader of the bad guys sang
Something soft and soaked in pain
I heard the echo from his secret hideaway."
The Judge
Twenty One Pilots
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Chapter XIII - Since You've Been Gone
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The past month I've only been able to think of two things; my siblings and the mess I caused them. I have grown only to dread this so-called queen, officially agreeing to her common name of the White Witch. Of course, if one of her loyal subjects heard me utter those two words in the same sentence, another bruise would be added to my body, or worse.
Being the witches personal lap dog has given me time to think of that day over and over again. Understanding every mistake I made along the way. Realizing just how I underappreciated everything. I never took a second to appreciate everything I had until it was gone. I tried to avoid imagining growing up, only knowing these ways and this life. But I ended up thinking of it, because there was someone that did. Even now I rethink the conversation I had with the girl called princess. Every reaction she had, every remark. I remember thinking the girl was heartless but I realize now that I am the heartless one. I can't even seem to remember the poor girl's name. I was so focused on myself and what I wanted that I couldn't even get her name. And I had not seen the problem in marrying her for kingship. What kind of person am I?
I try to avoid thinking about how disappointed my mother would be. For turning on my siblings, for betrothing an unknown girl, and everything in between. For everything I've done since I left England.
This could be the world's karma for being so self-serving. Maybe I deserve this, being forced to travel around the hundreds of kilometers of Narnia with the witch. It was hard to keep any type of faith or morals while surrounded by evil.
I was in the center of all this evil, by the side of the witch as we travel across the country, hunting the queen's false-hearted citizens.
A pack of wolves emerges from the forest. The largest one. I believe his name is Maugrim, clamps red fox. His fur stood out against the dark grey of the wolves coats.
"Your Majesty. We found the traitor." Maugrim announces, throwing the weak fox down, "He was rallying your enemies near the Shuddering Woods."
"Ah. Nice of you to drop in." The White Witch spits sarcastically, "You were so helpful to my wolves nights ago. Perhaps you can help me now."
"Forgive me, Your Majesty." The fox apologizes, bowing his head.
"Oh, don't waste time with flattery." The white witch scoffs at the fox with utter disgust.
The fox shakes his head, "Not to seem rude, but I wasn't actually talking to you."
His eyes raise to him and I realize he was speaking to me. He was addressing me. My jaw drops slightly, unsure of how to respond.
The witch points here scepter at the fox, "Where are the humans headed?"
The fox holds his head high, refusing to say a word. The witch's eyes grow darker with annoyance and anger. She pulls back her crystalized stick with her eyes set on the fox, ready to murder the animal for his acts in protecting my siblings and the rebellion.
"Wait! No! Don't." I plead, stepping forward, "The beaver said something about the Stone Table, and that Aslan had an army there."
The fox looked at me as if his heart had broken. I couldn't just stand there as the witch hurt him, not while protecting my family. These were the times I missed them the most, only challenged by the sleepless nights with nothing but the hope that they are alive under the same stars.
"An army?" The witch clarifies, no longer aiming the dark magic at the fox, "Thank you, Edmund."
"I'm glad this creature got to see some honesty...before he dies!" She exclaims.
"No!" I shout to stop the queen but it was already too late, the witch had frozen his body to stone.
She pulls her scepter away from the fox's chest, only looking at me. She takes one step towards me, only adding more force to the slap she drew across my cheek.
She backs away, turning to her pack animals, "Go on ahead. Gather the faithful. If it's a war Aslan wants...it's a war he shall get."
With her final words an innocent butterfly floats by gracefully. It's grace is ended the moment the queen sees it out of the corner of her eye. Strikingly fast, she turned the butterfly to stone, letting it fall to the ground, never to fly again.
"But first I must deal with you," She scowls down at me, cupping my cheek to look up at her, "It's so sweet that they still value you because of that damn prophecy. That simply will not do. I will have to change that. Even if it means burning another town to the ground."
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I'm dragged back to camp by the witches second hand, a dwarf, in the same manner, I have been since my arrival here. I have lost count of the days and hours since I made the brutal mistake of coming to the queen. The dwarf goes through his routine of bonding me to a tree and then sitting a few feet away, never taking his eyes off my every move. But tonight I was met with a special party.
"Weeks!" The White Witch shouts with rage, "That's how long we spent looking for your petty family. And you knew where they were this entire time! You deceitful child!"
I keep my head down, knowing nothing I said would stop her rage. It was only now that I realized her hair was no longer frozen in place, instead, it was falling, defrosted, catching a bit of wind as she paced back and forth.
With my silence, she turns to her entourage of animals behind her, "Send out two spies with Maugram, tell them to gather intel and only engage on Maugram's orders if the opportunity presents itself."
They disperse their separate ways leaving the queen to deal with me, "You will no longer accompany me on my personal search. You will stay here, guarded, until I say otherwise or the dog's get you."
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In the past few weeks, much has changed, yet I have easily adapted to the routine. I wake up before dawn, practice with Aslan, some days are better than others. After my training I find Peter and we train for the larger part of the morning, into the afternoon.
"You're going easy on me." Peter comments, taking another swing at me in training.
"Maybe, you're just getting better," I responded flatly, dodging one of his jabs.
"Was that your version of a compliment?" Peter asks skeptically, pushing against the two swords.
"You wish," She counters, twisting and swinging back down on me.
"That's what it sounded like," He
"Don't flatter yourself." I deadpan, "After all... you're losing focus."
Upon saying that I aim a kick to his side. He grabs my leg, pulling me forward to throw me off balance. Surprising myself and him. Instead of letting his plan fall through, I use his pull to twist my shoulder to hit his body. This knocks him down, releasing my leg as he stumbled to the ground. As he attempted to get up I jumped into action, straddling his torso while holding both his wrist down. We both abandoned our swords, knowing this has come to hand combat.
A month ago this would have absolutely no problem, not even slightly challenging. Now, the circumstances are every different. Daily training had made Peter stronger. His built had changed significantly. His shirts no longer loosely hung on his shoulders, to say the least. This new muscle gave him enough strength to fight my strength holding his wrist down to the ground.
Against all my arm strength he reaches my waist, pushing me over to switch positions, leaving me swarming underneath him to free my hands.
"Call it," He declares, pinning me down.
"Nope." I deny, turning my head and biting his wrist.
"Ow!" He shouts, pulling his wrist away, giving me the time to flip over onto him, this time using one hand and my foot to hold his wrist down. He fought for a second, shaking as he tried to pull his arms up again.
"Biting me is a dirty way to win," He pouts, looking at his wrist for marks.
I shrug while still keeping the pressure on him, "Well, I still won, so make it official and tap out."
Peter reluctantly hits the back of his hand on the ground. I smirk releasing him, even if I beat him over a hundred times by now, it was still fun.
"You need to work on your people skills, even Edmund stopped biting around the age of four." He says a little butthurt that I beat him again.
"I grew up with wolves, they don't exactly stop biting." I point out.
He shakes his head while picking up his belongings, "Any plans for today?"
"You know, the usual, avoiding everyone that hates me, which is pretty much everyone in this camp," I say with a bit of humor, even if it's entirely true.
"For the record, I don't hate you," Peter says, mocking me with the word 'hate'.
"I'm touched," I respond dramatically, putting my hand over my heart.
"Many people in camp don't dislike you, they trust in the prophecy and look to you as the prodigy." Peter clarifies, though it seems completely false.
"I guess I missed the welcome wagon then," I sass, making Peter roll his eyes with a smirk. "The prodigy will not be a crappy teen trainee witch with anger issues and a bad reputation."
"Hey, well when you put it that way..." Peter teases. I huff, punching him in the arm.
"I'm joking" He laughs, rubbing his arm slightly.
"I have something to show you." Peter states.
"What? Where? Why?" I question rapidly.
"Learning purposes." Peter proposes. I cross my arms, not moving. He throws his head back, "Come on, don't act like you have anything better to do."
"Fine." I give in, uncrossing my arms.
"Really?" He asks, taken back a bit.
"Yes," I agree again, "Now don't make me change my mind."
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The next few chapters are going to be wild. You're not ready...
B