Chapter One
It was a common knowledge among the four Pevensie siblings that they had been to a strange country called Narnia when they were children, where animals talked and trees danced. As ridiculous as it sounded, they had been, indeed, kings and queens there for a long period of time, which the Narnians, the natives,referred as the Golden Age. This story was told in a book called The Witch, The Lion and The Wardrobe.
Indeed, it was another common knowledge among the Pevensie siblings that Edmund Pevensie had made a mistake during their first journey to the land of Narnia. Although the past did not matter now and the price was paid and the War was won, Edmund was forced to remember his foolish acts and his treacherous lies in these war days.
Their second journey in the enchanting land saved endless lives and stopped a tyranny from exterminating the people they loved. Friends were made. Magic came back. A war against their enemy, the Telmarines, was won and the siblings got another taste of how terrible, and dirty, a war could be. The story about how the old kings and queens helped an orphan prince to save the kingdom was told in another story called Prince Caspian.
When they returned from the magical land and the elder brother and sister, Peter and Susan, were told that they could no longer go back to Narnia, here in the our world, the Second World War had not yet come to an end.
The Pearl Harbor Incident happened. The Americans joined the war. Susan, who was in America with their mother, came back to London. Peter came home from working for Professor Kirke to take care of the family.
Aunt Alberta, who lived with young Eustace moved to Northern Ireland. The four siblings and their mother lived in a flat near the underground. Lucy quitted school without telling anyone but Edmund, who daily lied to the family about walking Lucy to school before going to work in an elderly house.
Lucy decided to volunteer in the underground, which was constantly crowded because of the bombing. She took care of the homeless who were sleeping in the train platforms. Edmund was confident that Lucy could keep herself safe.
Bombs fell from the grey sky and a second later, there would be bright light, a deafening sound and nothing left but bodies and stray stones. The city's Bombing Alarm Station helped to warn the residents by blaring the ring. Susan worked in that station for a period of time before working in the public hospital as nurse because "people there need me more".
Peter was working in a different hospital, where soldiers were sent back from battlefields. "I know things with wars and injuries. I know the words they need to hear to heal," Peter had said once. "I mean, battle wounds? I've got enough of them already."
"Why don't you join the war?" Edmund had asked him when they were cleaning the dishes. "You can lead a unit brilliantly. You can fight."
"I have had enough wars for a lifetime," Peter said, "wars are terrible affairs that you and I are both familiar with. Here in this world, we are not politicians nor the minster. We were kings and queens in the Narnia, where there was a proper reason for battling. We were doing battles that we surely could win. Here in this war, there is little I can do. If I am in charge, I will not let the war happen. I would try the peace -"
"They have tried the appeasement policy," Edmund said. Peter paused a moment before replying.
"Maybe excuses aside, I just don't wish to kill or shoot anyone."
"They're invading our home, throwing bombs over heads everyday," Edmund argued. "They're killing us."
"They're just humans," Peter said. "Now I wish to comfort those to need words of hope. My fightings belong in Narnia. Here in this world, I fight with my words and leadership, not weapons and creating chaos."
Leadership, perhaps this was what gained Peter as the head of the Soldier Injuries Department in the hospital that he worked in. He always knew the right worlds to say. Being twenty one only, and he was wise beyond any university professors. Well, Peter hadn't always been twenty one.
Eventually the fact that Lucy worked in the underground was known by the family. One time, there was a bombing alarm and the family members, coming from hospitals and elderly house, fled to the underground. They found Lucy standing on the stone benches with a megaphone, giving out orders and arranging people's place in the crowded platform.
Mother insisted that Lucy should go back to school. It was the first time that Susan and Lucy argued with mother. Mother constantly glanced at Peter for support, knowing that the big loving brother wouldn't let his young 15 years old sister working in the underground.
"Say something Peter!" Mother said shrilly over dinner.
"I think you were brilliantly Lu," Peter said with a smile. Susan and Lucy beamed. "Look at just now! You had everything under control!"
"Thank you Peter," Lucy said. Mother then looked at Edmund, who was just staring at the piece of bread in front of him.
"Edmund, you say something to support me please," Mother said.
"Lucy can take care of herself," Edmund said quietly in a bored voice, "after all, she was the Valiant. You can't really stop a Valiant from doing the things she wants."
The siblings chuckled.
"Not those languages again," mother rolled her eyes. She hated it when her children talking about mysterious childhood tales. Although she noticed the harmony and changes of her children, she did not believe in any form of magic or adventure that took place in a shabby big house.
"I'll be fine mum," Lucy said. "I promise."
So Edmund went on working in the elderly house, which located in the edge of London where bombings never occurred. The government even assured the publicly that the Germans would never extend the bombing to that side of London because "the Germans will want to strike places with most population", said the radio.
Being 17 years old and having fought two wars in person, Edmund wanted nothing but to join the army. He knew, for sure, that his family would do anything in their power to stop him from entering the battlefield. But sitting here and doing nothing? It ached him. Sometimes when he looked at the elderly, sitting around and regretting, he'd imagine himself being older, the world being under the Nazi's rule and how he bitterly regretted all the wars he could have joined to make a difference.
That day when the bomb came, Edmund tucked some old ladies to bed. Their names were Elisa and Gwen. They heard sound and Edmund went out of the house to see what was going on. The bomb struck through the roofs of the house and it explored, blasting the building in front of him to pieces. Edmund was thrown back because of the force and he watched the house caught on fire and the flame built up and up, swallowing everything he'd known. The pink walls. The goofy smile of Gwen. The ever complaining Elisa. His boss's irritating shouts. The fans. The windows.
Edmund called for help with tears showering his face. He tried to get people's burnt, coal black bodies out of the fire. Silence all around. None of the them moved. None of them breath. Edmund's leg caught on fire and he didn't notice the pain and the hurt until someone told him.
"Son, stop! There's nothing you can do now," Edmund remembered some burly fire fighter grabbing his shoulder as he made his way into the ruined house again.
"No, let me go!" Edmund shouted and punched the fire fighter in the face. He ran back inside the house where the fire was put out. Edmund could still feel the heat. He could still see the outlines of beds and wheelchairs. He pocketed a folded, ashy paper.
Susan picked him up and brought him home. She gently hugged him and whispered things that "it'll be okay." Edmund was sure that nothing would be okay. Edmund stayed quiet for a few hours, making up his mind.
"Are you okay?" Susan asked him that night in his room, brought him a mug of hot chocolate.
"Will I ever be?" Edmund asked.
"Talk to me," Susan said, "I've learnt from a psychology class that trauma -"
"Like something you've learnt in a class or a text book is going to help me," Edmund said, turning away from her. "You didn't see it. It was loud and then there was nothing. I ran back in and – no, don't make me think about it."
"It's a survival guilt that you're going through now – well some people call it the luck guilt. You think -"
"Oh shut it," Edmund said, "I am sorry. Just don't, please. Those things from books, they are for hypothetical situations. My existence is a betrayal to dead. You don't get it. It's like going back to that time in the icy prison, watching the Witch turn everyone into a statue. You know how that feel? I could have done something. There's a war right here in my head."
"Let me tell you from personal experience then," Susan said, "Aslan died in front of my eyes. I saw the Witch stab the blade into His body. They tortured Him. Cut all His mane. Lucy and I witnessed His death and we could do nothing about it. We just saw it happen behind the rocks."
"He came back, didn't he? Those people won't," Edmund said.
"Did I know that He would come back?" Susan said, "What a night it has been, watching those dark creatures chanting over His death. We were at war and we lost the one we looked up the most. We lost a friend. You need to keep fighting, because -"
"Okay, Su," Edmund said, "okay. Thank you. I am so very grateful that you talked to me. It's so very, very helpful."
Edmund went into the living room and played a game of chess with Peter, who later went into Edmund's room and said the exact same thing Susan did. Edmund escaped into Lucy's room, who was sewing some clothes for a homeless boy she had met today.
"What's his name?" Edmund asked.
"Ivan," Lucy said, not looking at him.
"Susan and Peter kept trying to talk to me," Edmund replied, sitting on Susan's bed.
"It's better them than mum," Lucy said, "Peter told mum that he'd fix you up. Mum was about to get you to the doctors. Susan said you don't like doctor. It was terrifying isn't it?"
"Why aren't you comforting me, wise sister?" Edmund said.
"Because I know that you'll be okay. Eventually. You'll take some time. You're not crowned for nothing," Lucy said, "Aslan must have seen something in you. Something that's still there that makes you someone special. Tough. Just."
"You still believe that," Edmund said.
"That's what I will always believe," Lucy said, "However bad the war is becoming."
"Wars are not this ugly in Narnia," Edmund said.
"It is," Lucy said, "Peter knows. Aslan knows. The civilians know. We don't see the whole war, Ed. We see only the parts we play, which did not involve a lot of decision makings. We didn't witness a lot of death. People were always protecting us."
"Speak for yourself. When I was on the griffin and flying across Miraz's castle," Edmund said, "I did a lot of death bodies. But they died a heroic death. They chose to take part in the war. Those gentlemen and ladies in the house were innocent."
"If you put it this way, yes," Lucy said, "but death is, I don't know, I am not sure how to say anything about it. It's a mystery. Only Aslan knows where you go after that, because He died and came back and no one did."
"So you just want to sit back?" Edmund asked.
"I am doing what I am always good at," Lucy said, "taking care of people. And being – trying to be valiant."
"You are," Edmund said.
"I am actually really scared whenever I hear the bombing alarm," Lucy said, "when I am walking home, I can't bear to imagine if anyone doesn't come home."
Edmund nodded, "I guess everyone feels that."
"Susan said you've never cried since you got home," Lucy said. She was sewing the sleeve of the shirt.
Edmund shrugged, "I'd rather not think about it. It's quite heavy. Here," Edmund pointed at his chest.
"And you think joining the army will ease that?" Lucy said in a gentle voice. She looked up from the needle in the dark room.
"I'm not giving it the slightest thought."
"Edmund."
"Okay," Edmund replied uncomfortably.
"Saw you packing your bag before dinner," Lucy said. "And this," Lucy took out the paper Edmund pocketed in the elderly's house, "so you're going to go with the name Kevin Wallet now?"
"It will keep me sane," Edmund said, "You don't need to do the explaining. I am leaving a letter under my pillow. There's an urgent call, I've heard it this morning. They're leaving tonight."
"You will survive, whatever happens," Lucy said firmly, "I know you will."
"It's just another war replaced with guns and tanks," Edmund smiled bitterly, "I sure am more experienced than my other mates in the army." Edmund took the paper from Lucy's hand, folded it. "Let's hope they have swords there. I am Narnia's best swordsman."
"You're not killing anyone out there," Lucy said, "No, you're not. When you fought, you only injured those people badly. You never strike to kill."
"I can't control what will happen. This world is savage."
"This world. Narnia. It's the same world with different names and timeline. It's not what you think it is. The killings. Listen to me very carefully, Edmund," Lucy put down her needle, "killing damages your soul. I've seen those return soldiers in the underground. Their eyes are soulless, you kill someone and they take part of you away."
"You watch people die in front of you and part of you die with them as well," Edmund said, "I've killed once. Remember in Aslan's How and the Witch in the ice?"
"No, that's different. The Witch never dies. It doesn't count. You are not a savage." Lucy said. "Be very safe and write any time you can."
"You're just going to let me go?"
"I think in the house, I know you better than anyone, and I am trusting your judgement the way you always trust mine. And well you can't stop the Just." Lucy said, smiling lightly, "Not when he can beat Peter in sword fighting and beat Susan in archery, and can fix dislocated arms faster than anyone else. If you think you can find your peace by joining the war, what kind of sister I am to stop you? I am not mum. You will come back to us alive, I mean, you've officially fought two wars! Aslan will look after you. Before you go though, come to my room. I've got you food, hidden in my drawer. In case you're hungry on the road."
Edmund nodded. He hugged her sister for about a minute before letting go.
"Don't end up like dad," Lucy whispered.
"I won't," Edmund said, "take care of mum and make sure Susan and Peter get along."
Edmund left his sister's room. He thought he heard her sob when he closed the door. Edmund couldn't explain how grateful that he had a sister who understood him the way Lucy did. When everyone was deeply asleep, Edmund kissed his mother's forehead, put his letter over Peter's chest in case no one found it under his pillow, put pretty, newly bought hairband on Susan's table and went downstairs .
"Told you to come to get some food from me."
Edmund turned around in the dark living room, found Lucy in her nightgown.
"Thought you were sleeping," Edmund whispered. Lucy handed him some bread and cheese and kissed his cheeks.
"I'll be okay, go back to bed," Edmund said. Edmund opened the door, Lucy stood there watching him.
"I am sorry for ever being a git to you," Edmund said. "Here," Edmund took out an electric torch from his bag, "this is for you. May the torch always guide you in your darkest hour. Keep it. I'll have a new one in the army."
Lucy took the torch.
"I'll see you soon, Ed."
"Real soon. Goodnight Lu," Edmund said, "I hope you'd dream of us and Aslan and dream of Narnia."
Edmund kept walking in the ghostly night, turned the corner and walked down the wooden stairs. He hadn't heard Lucy closing the door until he reached the bottom of the stairs.