I've always thought that the centaurs should have a special regard for the Just King (without favoring one ruler over another, although, of course), because in my opinion they are so similar: loyal, quiet, grave, solemn, wise, using dual blades, etc.

This is Oreius POV after the battle of Beruna.

Disclaimer: I love C S Lewis's works but they are just that: Lewis's, not mine.

This story is un-betaed, is my first fanfiction and English is not my mother tongue: please be patient and point me my mistakes if you want and I'll correct them as soon as possible.

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It's the aftermath of the Battle of Beruna. Aslan has just breathed on me, giving me the life once again: what a wonderful rebirth! Now everything is clearer.

I am a Centaur and we Centaurs are honorable creatures and good judges of character, but I've made a mistake. I've already suspected, but now I'm sure: never judge someone before you know them. I am a centaur but am also a soldier who has suffered during the Long Winter: it was distressing to hope in two sons of Adam and two daughters of Eve and see only three children, rather lost I would add.

Now I have new perspectives, even before knowing what the dark colt has done during the battle (in the camp, they only talk about this and everyone is happy and celebrating).

What an irony! In order to save the soon-to-be High King, we both have had to disobey him, charging the White Witch. I thank Edmund's slyness (a slyness worth of a Fox, if you ask me), though: "Peter's not King yet". Right! I totally agree! According to this thought, we were right in our actions for a greater good. I'm so glad he has had my same idea and succeeded. Well, honestly I would have killed the evil thing and not only destroyed her wand, but never mind. The youngest son of Adam was untrained and still managed to do that. He has a great potential, indeed.

I could have had some doubts at first, but no more. Everything is forgotten. The wisdom of Aslan is endless and the youngest son of Adam is really a bliss for Narnia as much as his siblings. It's impossible now to see him as a traitor. It's obvious the evil witch has deceived him, as she did many others.

In the younger soon-to-be king's gaze I see Aslan's light and peace, I see faith and devotion, I see honor and loyalty, I see humility and selflessness and most of all I see love, a deep true love.

Prince Edmund and I talk and he apologizes: everything is forgiven and my heart is warm.

I love the Four in the same way, but in this dark colt I foresee something, a connection, a link, like it should be someone else. Suddenly I know: he has the solemn nature and quick wit of a Centaur, perhaps our talent to wield two swords, too. His brother is certainly gifted. It will be interesting to teach them everything I know.

Very few really understand Centaurs and share some traits with them, but who knows? I guess and hope the dark colt will become one of us.

During the coronation, I smile knowingly as Aslan and the siblings walk towards the four thrones, at last. They will be fine rulers indeed and they'll make Narnia proud. I won't be because I'm already proud of them. A great Age is about to begin.

The end