Tomorrow We Believe, But Not Today
"By a route obscure and lonely,
Haunted by ill angels only,
Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT,
On a black throne reigns upright,
I have reached these lands but newly
From an ultimate dim Thule—
From a wild weird clime that lieth, sublime,
Out of SPACE—Out of TIME."
-Edgar Allan Poe, "Dreamland"
Pseudologia: n. Pathological lying in speech or writing.
Pseudologia Fantastica: n. An elaborate and often fantastic account of exploits that is false but that the teller believes to be true.
-I-
"I remember the day in question quite clearly sir."
"What exactly," the Chief Inspector asked, "do you remember about it?"
Reepicheep laughed. "What a vague question," his smile faded as he noticed the satyr's stern disposition.
The mouse cleared his throat. "An honest one nevertheless. The time of which the events in question occurred, I can give you that. I can also give you the details of every single object in the house, but I'm sure you wouldn't want to spend seventeen hours talking of cups and wooden spoons."
"No," replied the inspector, removing the spectacles from his face as he stood in the Mouse's doorway, "I want to know the details of his death."
"I see," the Mouse said. "Well, it is unfortunately long and dismal."
The inspector moved for his satchel, grabbing a notepad and quill pen. His appearance other than the fact that he was a satyr, was rather professional. Wearing a pair of primitive bifocal eyeglasses brought out his hazel eyes which spoke of seniority and business. His hair was put up in a pony tail and even that was quite long. The goat portion of him was trimmed and neat so he was relatively tame at first glance. The only hint of nature feral nature was his militaristic arms and chest both of which were covered in a reasonable amount of hair.
"Did you serve in the war?" Reepicheep asked.
"I did sir," the satyr replied, "I was Captain back in those days."
"Once a man of service always a man of service." The Mouse said, putting on his most endearing smile, "I was a Major myself."
The satyr saluted, placing his right hand on the tip of his brow with the palm showing. The Mouse repeated the motion back.
"Well, I suppose you want what you came here for." The Mouse continued, "Come in and we can talk specifics."
He led the Inspector into his foyer which was a small room with vaulted ceilings and minimalist furniture. A chair in the corner with a bookcase to the left of it. A faded blue and purple rug lay in the center and an unlit chandelier swayed above like an unsettling raven about to prophesize death.
"Seems a bit decrepit." The satyr replied trying not to bump into anything.
"This is a friend's home." Reepicheep replied as he opened another door that lead to the living room, "He hasn't been here in-"
He paused, a spider that was busy weaving its web was beginning to chatter amongst itself humming a work song and being absent minded. The Mouse turned towards it and spoke in a disquiet voice, "Do you mind?"
The spider ignored him and continued with its humming and working. With that Reepicheep took a step to right, giving the spider more space to work.
"Aren't too keen with arachnids?" The satyr asked.
Reepicheep shook his head slowly. "Not particularly. Well what do you want me to do, it's a natural fear. Natural fears cannot be suppressed as easily as irrational ones."
"Yes," replied the satyr with a removal of his glasses, "but they can be controlled."
"That is true," the Mouse said, "with that, I shall lead you into-"
He stopped. Facing the door behind him Reepicheep felt a sudden urge to bust through it, knowing full well that the house was empty and hasn't been used or lived in for thirty-seven years.
"Are you alright?" The Inspector asked, dawning his glasses again and looking a bit concerned as to why Reepicheep was standing there stiff as a board.
"Yes, I'm fine, just, trying not to reminiscence of bad, w-wi-wicked, mem, mem, memories." He stuttered, his eyes blinked and for a moment, behaved as if he were an epileptic.
The satyr jotted this behavior in his notepad:
Suspect is behaving oddly, as if he suffers from mental illness or serve twitch and stutter. Best keep watch of him. If this business continues, report to Cair Paravel immediately and send for Tavros.
"I can come back another day if it suits you better." The Inspector said placing his notepad back in his satchel.
The Mouse turned towards him, eyes showing fear and face appearing as if he had foreseen the end.
"No!" He shouted hoarsely. He cleared his throat.
"No, today is fine." Reepicheep said. "We just need to get out of this room is all, too many triggers here."
The satyr looked at him suspiciously, "Triggers?"
Reepicheep nodded, "I suffer from slight dementia, schizophrenia, to be specific. It doesn't occur often but when it does I get the jitters and start behaving, to put it lightly, odd."
The Inspector moved for his satchel again, Reepicheep saw this and became concerned when he made another note.
"I hope you don't think I'm cynical Mister-"
"Evander." Replied the satyr.
Reepicheep nodded, "Judging by your note taking you don't need to know mine do you?"
Evander shook his head. "No sir I don't. I do need to know a few things regarding the reason why I'm here."
"Yes, we can speak of this once we are settled in." Reepicheep turned towards the door, this time opening it and walking in.
The living room was large, and the furniture dated back to the reign of Balthazar (the last good king, seven years before Miraz). There was no light to speak of but Reepicheep did take the time to clean off two chairs, a small table and prepare the fireplace for a fire.
"Apologizes for the dilapidation." Reepicheep said as he walked towards the fire, lighting it with a match that was located on the table. "This old place used to belong to an old Faun, Tumnus I believe his name was."
"You mean the Tumnus, from the old tales?" Evander asked, slightly intrigued that he was about to sit in the same chair that Lucy Pevensie sat in.
Reepicheep walked over to the other chair and sat in it. "The very same."
He situated himself to where he could rest his back on the back of the chair, which still had hints of red velvet upholstery.
"So why is this place like this?" Evander asked, notepad and pen in hand.
"It's been this way ever since he died, that was about thirty-seven years ago." Reepicheep answered.
Evander's eyes popped out a bit. "He lived that long!"
Reepicheep nodded and admittedly almost laughed but held down the urge and spoke again. "Yes he did, he lived exceptionally long and exceptionally well."
"Did you know him?"
"Oh no, he died a few years before I was born." The Mouse replied. "My grandfather knew him though. Said he was s saint. From the looks of what he told me he was."
Evander smiled a bit, the way Reepicheep spoke was comforting, as if the Mouse truly cared about him and would, if necessary, defend him.
There was a reason I was brought here, Evander thought, and I think I'm beginning to know why.
"What can you tell me about him?"
Reepicheep smiled warmly, taking a bit of joy in the fact that the Inspector wanted to talk about someone who had been dead for thirty-seven years instead what he was really here for. Good, the mouse thought, gives me time to clear my head.
"As you probably know he was one-hundred and thirty when Queen Lucy arrived here. After the Witch had been slain he enlisted himself in the Narnian Brigade Armies and fought in the Fourteenth War (between Narnia and Milland- the land to the West). This was a conflict between the Milland Dwarfs (or the Western Dwarfs as they are commonly referred to) and the Narnian Centaurs. This lasted from King Peter's coronation to the Peace Treaty of Milland, or simply an armistice, so technically, we're still fighting."
"Are we winning?" Evander asked.
Reepicheep laughed, "I'm afraid the ranks on both armies are dead at this point. Shall I continue?"
Evander nodded and extended his hand, "Please."
"Anyway, towards the end of that war he was injured in the Battle for Archenland where King Barnabas, leader of the dwarfs, decided that it would be a good idea to annex it."
"Did he succeed?"
Reepicheep smiled smugly, "If he did then it we would have lost the war. Barnabas, so I've heard, was extremely powerful but also very stubborn. Luckily stubbornness is what gave us a victory. Unfortunately for Tumnus, he sported an injury and during recovery the armistice was signed and he was sent home."
Evander nodded, writing the details in his notebook. "Was he given pensions?"
"Of course he was," Reepicheep said situating himself to a more comfortable position, "he left the service as a Major."
"Good career."
"Indeed." Reepicheep said, seeing that Evander was copying every word. The Mouse smiled and leaned forward a bit.
"Are you sure that this has anything to do with your investigation Mister Evander?"
"No." The satyr said, "Just curious is all. We can talk of my reason being here in a moment."
"Why not get to it now." Reepicheep said. "I mean, you certainly do not want me talking all day, I've been known to talk about mundane things for hours continuously."
"Yes, well," Evander said, removing his glasses once again, "it appears that you are a culprit, a suspect really, in a turn of sinister events."
"What classifies as sinister?" Reepicheep asked looking intently at Evander, noticing that by the way his ears were motionless and his eyes firmly locked toward him told his mind that the satyr wasn't lying.
"Murder sir." The Inspector answered.
"Who, if I may ask, is the deceased?"
"I'm not at liberty to say at this time." Evander said, "I do have one question though, if I am permitted to ask it."
"You may." The Mouse said.
"Where were you three days ago?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Because," Evander said, "it is important to my investigation. Now answer the question please. Where were you three days ago?"
Reepicheep looked at him and smiled. His eyes shifted from the fire and back to Evander and each time his smile grew larger and more crocked by the second. His eyes began to twitch and his muscles started to tense up. He stood, walked to the edge of his chair and spoke in a profane voice: "You already fucking know where I was, you idiotic bastard!"
Evander took some notes in his book and when he was finished crossed his legs and continued his questioning. "Mister Reepicheep," he said, "am I to believe that you in fact are admitting to this accusation?"
The Mouse jumped from the chair to the small table, holding hid grin and developing vermillion eyes. He said nothing.
The satyr stood up slowly, being mindful of his actions and began to walk towards the door.
"Just where do you think you're going!" Reepicheep cried.
"Home," Evander said, "I have all the evidence I need."
The Mouse laughed, jumped to the floor and followed him, "Evidence. Oh how amusing, how sensational. How marvelous it must be to come up with nothing but a yarn about some Faun and a confession."
"You're starting to scare me sir." Evander said turning back a little. This is what they warned me about. His "behaviors" are what has him in the lion's den in the first place.
"Scare you?" Reepicheep said, a bit more intimidating this time. "Believe me sir if I were trying to scare you I would have already killed you by now."
Which is why you're scaring me. Evander thought. He opened the door and as he re-entered the dark foyer Reepicheep drew his blade, charged and laughed, not giving a second thought to the screams, cries for mercy or pleas for life. He just went in and preformed massacre...
Reepicheep awoke to the sound of a nightingale- she was in the middle of an opera, a beautiful soprano.
Opening his eyes, the rodent saw nothing but darkness so out of habit, the Mouse moved for the door and opened it.
Moonlight and a bitter wind poured into the foyer. The moon shone like a lantern in the distance and the ground, which was covered in thick snow, showcased the moon's brilliance in reflection. The Mouse shivered slightly and turned around and beheld his demon work.
Laying amidst the dismal gray was Evander. His body was peaceful and at rest, as if he decided to sleep there. Old battle scars were tore open like a summer chicken- flesh pulled back and organs partially consumed. The goat fur on his legs was shaved off, the hooves were severed and the right hand was missing. Evander's face remained untouched, save for the eyes which were plucked out and tossed to the side. As for Reepicheep's blade, it was lodged in the poor soul's heart. If swords could speak, it would be quoting Shakespeare's most infamous woman.
Reepicheep's knees gave in. He fell to the ground, letting himself be taken by freezing temperature and grief, all the while tasting something bitter and fleshy in his mouth. He spat it out, looking at it, saw what it was and cried.
The nightingale, who was in a nearby, sung a sweet lullaby for the distressed rodent. Telling him in song that nightmares end with the sun and the day can last forever if you want it to. It was a mother's prayer to heal a child's broken heart and Reepicheep was no exception to the rules of grief and love. He succumbed to it, sadness, and in this fell asleep, humming the nightingale's sweet song in his head.
When morning came, the lark came by and sung his tune of joy. He sat in the same spot as his nightingale (for everyone knows that nightingales and larks go steady) and watched over the Mouse dutifully.
As the sun's rays hit his fur, Reepicheep slowly rose and for no particular reason at all scaled the nearest tree. It was difficult at first, for everything was frozen from last night's snow fall but he managed and sat down on the nearest branch.
A horse was cantering steadily in Reepicheep's direction. The drums of war and cries of battle ringed in the Mouse's ears. He wanted nothing to do with the glory-seeking, the honor, the prestige, he just wanted to go home back to his wife and son. He knew he couldn't do such a thing. Abandon his cause for a family that wasn't there. It just wasn't done anymore. To him, chivalry died with Evander and he whether he realized it or not, he was grieving for it.
The horse and its rider slowed to a trot and then a walk and finally stopped just below the tree Reepicheep was in. The rider was Lucy. She wore a green and gold dress, her hair was put in a pony-tail tied via gold ribbon and she was armed with a puukko knife. The horse was jet black and its eyes were a beautiful murky gold. Its name was Ajax.
Reepicheep turned towards her and smiled. "Good morning, Your Majesty."
"Good morning, Reepicheep." Lucy replied smiling back. "Peter said you'd be here."
"They miss me already?" Reepicheep said with a laugh, knowing that a council meeting was to be had with Caspian, Peter, Edmund, Lucy and Kashmir along with his associates.
"We're trying to sort out this Second Winter business." Lucy said.
"Ah yes, the Second Winter, how aptly named. Still can't figure out who or what is causing it?"
Lucy shook her head. "No, that's why you were sent out this way wasn't it, to find a source?"
"Yes, and I can tell you where all this is coming from." Reepicheep said. He looked back at Tumnus' door in a way that he hoped was discrete.
Lucy looked in the same direction and dismounted the horse.
"Your Majesty," Reepicheep said, seeing tears and some form of harsh reprimand coming, "Some things are best left alone, if you catch my meaning."
She ignored him and advanced anyway. Her eyes slowly became more distraught the closer she came to it. She peered her head inside. The smell of urine and feces along with decaying flesh made her want to vomit, and the sheer sight of it brought tears. She could not bring herself to cry out, for fear of some soothing words when all she wanted was to slip into shock and disbelief.
Execution doesn't sound like something I would enjoy very much. The Mouse thought. Nonetheless, it is deserving.
"What was his name?" Lucy asked softly.
"Beg your pardon?" Reepicheep asked.
"What was his name?" Lucy repeated.
"Evander." A gravelly voice replied from inside the house.
Looking up, Lucy saw the other door leading to the living room was open and that Mr. Tumnus, or rather, someone who looked like Mr. Tumnus, was sipping tea in his chair next to a roaring fire.
"Mr. Tumnus?" Lucy asked somewhat cautiously.
Reepicheep jumped down from his branch and quickly rushed over to her side.
"Your Majesty," he said, "Tumnus has been dead for thirty-seven years, I highly doubt you see him th-"
He turned towards the living room and instead of seeing the Faun, saw a member of a sworn nemesis.
Reepicheep's fear of spiders was about as natural as his impulse for adventure. The sight of them doesn't bother him much, it's the action the spider makes towards feasting that concerns him- like building a web for instance. He was always bothered by anything that consumes without remorse and in his opinion, spiders were and are, the biggest culprits of this. Perhaps it was the hairiness of the eight legs, the watchful eyes in the center of the head, the venomous fangs that sink deep into the veins or the speed of which the deed is done that causes the Mouse's legs to move in any opposite direction.
Nonetheless, his honor, what little he had left of it, called him to stand firm against the sight of one of the most horrendous species of it- the Giant Brown Recluse (which is about two-hundred fifty times larger than the average Brown Recluse- measuring up to eight feet tall).
Lucy advanced slowly. Mr. Tumnus extended his hand, offering a cup of tea to her. Transfixed, she stood up straight and walked, stepping over the body of Evander and towards the do living room. Reepicheep, who saw only a spider, preformed a bit of acrobatics as he jumped for his blade.
"Reepicheep," Lucy said, somewhat concerned, "what are you doing?"
"Tell me you don't see the large venomous Brown Recluse right there." Reepicheep replied gripping the blade hilt tighter than usual. He didn't want to miss, make mistakes, or be too rash in his movements. If anything, the Mouse wanted nothing more to commit murder, then again, this spider wasn't sentient so the Sacred Law need not apply here. To the credit of his concisions though, his main thought was getting Lucy out of the line of fire.
"Don't be silly Reepicheep," Lucy said, "it's only Mister Tumnus."
Reepicheep rolled his eyes, "As I've said before Your Majesty, Tumnus is dead. I know it may be difficult for you to believe that but it's true. He's gone and right now, you're being delusional. Let's go and-"
"Lucy." A voice said.
She turned towards Tumnus, or what she perceived to be Tumnus, and smiled a bit. "Yes?" She asked.
"Come and sit by the fire." The spider replied smiling like the devil.
Reepicheep laughed condescendingly, "I don't think it wise for her to be the company of a murderer."
The spider laughed. "Oh I believe you mean in the company of you!"
"This was an accident." The Mouse said, "I mean someone who is a child murder."
The spider shook his head. "Again, do you mean you?"
Reepicheep's face turned a bit red as he tightened his grip on the blade hilt. "Don't tempt me mongrel!"
"Reepicheep!" Lucy scolded, "Tumnus is a friend and should be treated with some respect."
"Yes," the spider answered with his natural contralto voice, "I'm a friend-"
"So treat me with some respect." The Faun said.
Lucy advanced towards him. Reepicheep charged in front and when Lucy stopped again, the Mouse stood in between her and the spider, taking a good look at the arachnid's eyes. They hinted a rather misty, and unsettling glow. The spider smiled again, this time producing a bit of venom.
"What's the matter Reepicheep?" The arachnid said. "Don't you recognize me?"
Reepicheep saluted his blade and glared vengefully. "Hello Cerberus."
The Faun laughed, "What an odd name to call me Reepicheep. Sure you're alright?"
Lucy turned towards the Mouse. "I thought you said he didn't know you."
"Don't worry," Reepicheep replied. "He knows me very well."
"Why don't you two come closer?" Tumnus said. "It's warm by the fire."
Lucy smiled and took a step, going so far as to reach out her hand- right into Cerberus' mouth. All the spider had to do was sink his fangs in and finish the job. The only thing the Faun did was outstretch his hand and smile. Reepicheep jumped into the air, entered the spider's mouth and lodged his blade dead center- puncturing the roof and straight through to the eye. Being careful of the incisors, the Mouse slowly vaulted himself to safety. When he landed, he sheathed his weapon.
Tumnus and Cerberus both screamed and fell to the floor. In both cases, Reepicheep was before them spilling the same speech. "You pitiful dastardly thing. How you manage to sleep at night is beyond me."
"Reepicheep!" Lucy cried as she rushed over into the living room hurdling over whatever it was that blocking her way and sat next to an empty chair. "How could you do this?"
The spider moved slightly to the left, allowing Reepicheep to see the spectacle better. Lucy was crying over nothing, caressing nothing, and scolding at nothing. She kicked what she presumed to be the Mouse and oddly enough Reepicheep felt it. It was a sword in his gut. If there was one thing Reepicheep hated more than people in pitiful states, it was people's hearts breaking in front of him knowing full well that he couldn't do anything about it. He almost said something but decided against it, feeling it best to let emotion play its move in this game of chess.
"Yes Reepicheep," Cerberus said weakly, "how could you do this?"
Reepicheep sighed and broke his silence, "It's not the Faun!" He cried, "It's a murderous psychopathic lunatic who believes wholeheartedly that he rules the underground."
"What are you talking about?" Lucy asked, looking down at him. "You hurt Mister Tumnus."
"Your Majesty," the Mouse said somewhat curious as to why she was talking to no one in particular. "I'm over here."
"No you're not," Lucy said, "you're right here."
"Lucy," Tumnus said. "Please stay with me I-"
"Don't want to be alone when I die." Cerberus finished the sentence.
"You won't." Lucy said sweetly, "I promise."
"Good." The spider replied, laughing a bit, "that's very good."
"Why is it," Reepicheep said, looking at the spider's eyes rather deductively, "that you speak for both of them?"
"What are you talking about?" Cerberus asked.
"You're speaking for someone who isn't there." Reepicheep said.
Lucy looked towards him, or rather, the direction she perceived him to be in and picked up the nearest object she could which was an old book entitled Narnian Folk Tales and Legends, which is a very large book of four thousand seventy hundred and eighty-three pages and weighs roughly thirty pounds.
Reepicheep looked over and smiled a bit. "Surely she doesn't think she can-"
She threw it at him.
Reepicheep felt his head. "Damn!" he said, going off balance a little giving into the pain, "that's going to leave a scar later."
"Serves you right." Lucy said, starting at nothing.
"If you say so, Your Majesty." Reepicheep said, still rubbing his head. "Damn that hurt."
"What's the matter?" Cerberus said sarcastically, "Is the Water Rat scared of Badger?"
Reepicheep rolled his eyes again. "Amusing that you would make such a reference."
The spider shifted his weight and attempted to stand, his legs moved slightly as Tumnus slowly began to slip into shock.
"Tumnus." Lucy said, "What's going on?"
The Faun smiled, "Ask the one you trust-"
"In the castle by the sea." Cerberus said.
"What does that mean?" Reepicheep asked.
"What do you think it means?" The spider replied, "It means that-"
"I'll be in your memory." Tumnus said. "I think those words are befitting enough to be last ones don't you?"
"Yes they do." Lucy said. She looked towards Reepicheep who was across the room on the floor, motionless and seemingly dead. "I just can't believe he'd do this."
She stood, walked across the room and picked Reepicheep up. He stirred a bit and smiled. "Is it time for supper yet?" He said.
"Great," Cerberus said, "you hit him too hard on the head."
"Yes she did." Reepicheep said, "Now, if you will be so kind as to live for five more seconds. I shall be-"
"on my way." The Mouse in Lucy's arms said.
Lucy walked towards the door slowly. Her heart turned cold and bitter as she looked down (at nothing) and spat on the ground.
"That was for you, you know." She replied.
Reepicheep sighed and hung his head a little. "Even though I didn't do anything technically I'll be the man in this and take the blame."
"You should." Lucy said, stopping and bending down near Evander and letting whatever it was she carried go, assuming that it was perfectly fine to do so. She stood slowly and turned back towards the room, seeing nothing but she saw all along. There was no spider, there was no Mouse in the doorway, there was just an empty threshold that lead to a room with a dying Faun. "Goodbye Mister Tumnus."
Tumnus smiled. "Goodbye Lucy Pevensie."
The words were a painful dagger to her heart. As she watched him fade, she cried and for a reason that only love or grief can explain fell to the floor. Reepicheep walked slowly toward her and even though he thought Lucy's display was a bit overdramatic, the Mouse spoke with all the sincerity and fatherliness in the world.
"In the finding of grief and misery, there is the hope that life can go on." Reepicheep said.
"Does it?" Lucy asked, her voice growing a bit frail.
"Only if you believe it does." The Mouse said. "Grief and pain are good cousins, but so are love and mercy."
"I wish to not feel this way ever again. It's too depressing." Lucy replied, resolving to curl up on the floor.
"Grief is necessary for love to occur. For without grief, we would never be able to love anything. I guess you could say that it their relationship is a bit of an oxymoron." Reepicheep said.
He turned towards Cerberus, who lay motionless. The Mouse walked over to the spider (who was not there) and made an effort to close all seven of his remaining eyes. When he was done, he walked outside, cleaned his blade with the snow and re-entered the foyer.
"Come then," Reepicheep said, again being as fatherly as he could. "let's get you home."
Lucy didn't want to move. She wanted to lay there and die. The Mouse, who said nothing, turned towards the living room again and saw a pile of dust in the chair that Mister Tumnus supposedly sat in. He looked to the left and saw that Cerberus was no longer there.
"What happened to the spider?" Reepicheep asked.
"What spider?" Lucy replied softly as if her voice were leaving her.
"The spider that was-"
An exhale. Reepicheep turned back towards Lucy. He rushed over and just as he was about to check her pulse, a sharp burning sensation was running up and down his back. It moved from his back to his shoulders and to his chest and head. His heart raced, beating like a racehorse running the grand prix, his breathed slowed and his lungs constricted, forcing him to exhale and breathe sporadically. He fell to the floor and crawled for the door and toward the snow. Each motion forward was an advancement in pain. He began to shed fur and the burning sensation became quite literal. His flesh started to burn and it was here that Reepicheep screamed. He screamed until his voice escaped him and his head no longer produced coherent thought. As he reached the door, the Mouse slipped into unconsciousness.
Ajax, who was used to screaming and such business (he is a war horse after all) thought nothing of anything going on until he heard Reepicheep's screams. The Horse looked over and being curious, walked over and peered his head in. He beheld two victims of the same sword and one unconscious mouse covered in the blood of Lucy Pevensie. Without much thought Ajax sped toward Cair Paravel thinking to himself how many years it would take for a rodent to rot and die in jail.