A/N: Hey guys! So I'm fairly new to the whole "fanfic" thing. I'm used to writing original characters, so bear with me when I try and figure out how analyse others as well! Anyways, moving on, the whole reason I started to write this, is because for starters, I've always loved the Narnia series since I was around six or seven. This fic will possibly be different from what you might be used to. I'm bringing the characters into the present and well, you'll see. I know it's just going to sound like another Susan story, but I'm going to work through it, hopefully you'll find it quite original. :) I like to think my imagination side of my brain is quite large, haha.

A few other things before I let you start reading, this might not make much sense at first, because I'm starting it off at a funny point. There's going to be a few different POVs that we're going to jump into, but it'll probably always be this way. And also, this story doesn't make much sense when you think of it the Christian way, but again, this is just a story. Reviews are very much welcome, unless they are offensive. I like critism, but please make it positive. :) Thank you!

The heavens shook with thunder.

Down on the ground, everything had combusted into chaos. Unlike cries of joy, shouts of many different kinds of creatures could be heard as they rushed around and about, attempting to find cover.

The rain had been pounding down for hours now. Her brother, the High King, had given strict orders that everyone remained in the castle boundaries for the night. He felt that it was not safe for them to leave after what had just happened. The fear of dying wasn't what was bothering the Narnians. (Logically, they were all already dead). There was a deeper meaning to it.

This country - Aslan's real country, was Narnia in its real form. It was suppose to bring joy and good fortune to all its inhabitants. Big or small, old or young, poor or rich, it was safe.

It was peace.

it was home.

But as a lightning bolt shot across the sky once more, the wind blew harder, whipping Lucy's hair in front of her face. Where she stood, in one of the balconies of Cair Paravel, she watched as a group of the castles' residents ushered the flustered creatures inside. Even dead creatures didn't enjoy freezing rain.

She thought back to a few hours ago to when it all began.

"…Everything stopped. We had succeeded once again."

Cheers and applause erupted around the campfire. The High King had just finished telling one of his many successful battle tales. It had become a ritual now, for the Narnians to gather around a fire every once and awhile and share stories to all the other generations from the very beginning, to when the door had been shut for the last time. Everyone would listen intently, just enjoying the speakers' stories, even if they had heard them a million times. Hearing them here, with everyone together, in paradise, made the stories come back to life.

"Do tell another one, Peter, please?" his sister, Queen Lucy chirped.

"How about Ed tells one," he stated, looking over at their brother, King Edmund.

Edmund laughed, shaking his head. "Alright, I will. How about the story of Rabadash again?"

Lucy frowned, hearing that story made her think of her sister. Whenever the subject of the Gentle Queen had came up, many of their subjects would commence jabbering in angry whispers. The truth had came out, that one of their Golden Age monarchs had dismissed them in her mind, forgetting her true identity. It pained them more than they let on, putting on happy faces whenever they saw her siblings.

But this time, they didn't try to hide their pain. There was just something about that night that made them all a little nervous. The air felt chillier, as if someone had turned the heat down and clouds had began to roll in just after midday. It was strange, seeing as though it was always bright and sunny in Aslan's Country.

But now it was different.

From the corner of his eye, Edmund could see a small squirrel whispering to its mother.

"Mama," the squirrel squeaked, "how come the other one never came with them?" While asking, he made small effort into not pointing at the Pevensies. "Didn't the stories always say there were four of them? The other four that came with them don't look like the pictures Forrenus showed us, so I know they aren't the ones that killed the mean Witch lady. Right, mama? I'm right? I know I'm right, right?"

The mother squirrel shook her head, sighing frustratedly. She was proud that her son knew his history correctly, but it still didn't make the topic anymore cheerful for her. Looking awkwardly over at the ones her son had spoken about, she gasped, embarassed, as she saw King Edumd looking towards them, chuckling quietly.

"Stop that, Squmus!" she barked, swatting her sons' paw from where he was pointing. "You know pointing is rude!"

"But mama, wh-"

"Because she betrayed us! She decided to not believe in us anymore, alright? She created a different life for herself back in that, that place Queen Lucy calls Spare Oom. She's no friend anymore, Squmus. She doesn't want to be our Queen."

The baby squirrel frowned, almost at the verge of tears. "But mama, why?"

Before Squmus's mother could answer, someone had cleared their throat and stood up.

"Fellow Narnians," a clear, strong, authoritic voice rang out.

Mama squirrel looked over at the source of the voice and gasped once more.

"I understand that many of you are accusing our Royal sister, Queen Susan, of being a traitor." King Edmund called out, his eyes sweeping over the crowd, keeping them locked on the two squirrels for a few extra seconds. "But I know what being a traitor is like, and I know it is not she. She may not be here with us right now, and she may have not left our old world yet, but we still must keep our faith. For Narnia is not full until we have all of our people together. I assure you, my friends, she will come back to us one day, and that day will come soon."

The young King was one of the only few who still felt that Susan would one day return to them. The others – the Other Six of The Seven and their dear friends from Narnia's past, had mixed feelings. Some they shared, others they kept bottled up, unsure if it was right to feel that way.

A rustle was heard from between some bushes. Lucy hopped up excitedly, hoping to be able to greet some more people, but what she saw, was not a friend. Not a friend at all.

What stood there, was not a man, but not a vulture. It was large, larger than anyone present and had four arms. A hush fell through the crowd, as some of the people present took in a sharp intake of breath.

Then, there was screaming.

It was Tash. Tash. That, that man-vulture who brought havock to Narnia in its final days. It screeched, and everyone froze, under its spell.

Peter stood, taking his place infront of the shocked crowd, proctectiveness oozing through his veins. Edmund followed his brother, not wanting to leave him to deal with this on his own.

It did not speak. It just stared. Then it threw its head back and cried, loud and clear, causing many hands, paws and wings to fly up to its respective pair of ears. Tash stared once more, face hardened as he bore his eyes into Peter. The High King did not flinch, he knew he was safe under Aslan's protection.

But when the High King spoke, it was only half as powerful as he expected.

"Leave, beast. For I thought I have already destroyed you once. Shall I do it again?"

It cackled? Yes, it cackled. Tash, the worshipped God of the neighbooring country of Calormen, cackled. And then, in the blink of his eye, it disappeared from Peter's view.

That's when the torrential downpour had begun.

And yet, no one knew what do.