Prologue: Joining the Army
It was always hard to recall the time before the hundred year winter; I was so young then. What I do remember is dancing countless nights, singing with my sisters and hunting with the talking beasts. We recalled stories of Aslan and gazed at the stars with the centaurs. For one as young as myself, it was a dream. I had no cares and no worries. Regrettably, it was the only time I'd ever feel completely content.
My twenty-first year alive was the year the winter hit, my young tree huddled inside herself to stay alive. I, being joined to my tree mother since birth, joined her so I myself would not die. It was a winter neither of us had ever felt the likes of prior to our slumber.
Unlike other Narnians, not many dryads were able to stay awake in the frost. Some elm and oak were strong enough to withstand the bitting chill, but they were mature and so robust that they could survive some of Narnia's greatest storms. A tree as slender as my silver birch was too delicate and young to fight off such a curse.
For a hundred years I slept, unaware of the horrors and oppression going on outside of the bark I was concealed. Dreams rarely graced me, but when they did it was often of a great golden lion. I felt so warm and content that often I forgot I was asleep as I danced around him with other dryads; all of Narnia was celebrating and I couldn't care if there was a slight chill around my tree that made her uneasy.
When the dreams ended, I'd try and wake myself – to leave and dance like my legs ached to do. A blast of the killing winter exhausted me and I retreated back, closer to my tree, deep within her core; and there we'd wait to wake once more.
It's hard to know how Flidaia and I continued to grow with so little warmth and sun, perhaps by Aslan's grace was it possible. Years went on and she managed to grow taller than most of the birches near Cair Paravel, of course neither of us knew until we were abruptly awakened one day. I remember it was dreadful looking out, the cold still bit deep into my body, but it was a calling I'd have been daft to ever deny.
"Saoirse!" Flidaia stirred, the tapping on her bark brought her awareness to a groggy start. Of course I woke as well; angry that someone had the nerve to wake a dryad's slumber. "Saoirse! You lazy dryad, you are the hardest of your sisters to wake."
Irritated, I withdrew hesitantly from the warmth of my birch's core. Many prefer using blossoms or leaves to form their person, but I was always intrigued by the form the sons of Adam and the daughters of Eve were rumored to possess. The ground was still covered in a veil of white and the trees bare of leaves, leaving me no choice in my form anyway. Goose flesh began to appear on my pale skin as the wind buffeted my sleepy person, but the spotted cat before me chirped happily at my presence, completely unaware of the outrageous temperature. "Cadril, I hope there is a good reason for disturbing my tree in the middle of winter."
The cheetah ignored my annoyance and rubbed my leg, the coarse touch of his fur abated the cold for a few seconds. It was still better than the thin fabric of my dress. "Indeed, Aslan has arrived-"
"Aslan?" I was taken aback by this statement. Living by Cair Paravel most of my life, I had hoped that the great lion would come and fill the empty halls with the kings and queens of the prophesy. Alas I had never set eyes on him myself. Hearing his name after such a sleep certainly did well to cure me of my weariness.
"Yes," Cadril said in awe, amber eyes gleamed, "He is gathering an army, near the stone table. They say the power of the White Witch is failing at last, it is rumored that a daughter of Eve has already stepped foot in Narnia!"
A smile lit my face, I could feel my birch stir with excitement. "Aslan be praised!" Could it be that the prophesy was finally being fulfilled?
"You might not be aware of it, but this blasted winter has lasted well over a hundred years."
"I've been asleep for the majority of my life... but I had hoped that the Witch wasn't capable of such a long frost." It was the first I had knowledge of losing so much time to the winter. I felt melancholy to know so much time had past since those pleasant days I remembered.
"Sadly she is. Those Narnians able to sleep through it are lucky, you haven't witnessed her horrors." When Jadis had arrived, we could already feel the change in our beautiful land. The Witch had already begun causing havoc and installing fear before the winter started... those terrible terrible things she did. They were so abhorrent that I didn't mind the early snow nor the sleep that came with it, I had no desire to hear anymore of her horrors.
"What are we waiting here for? I want to join the army!" Knowing that this was her doing only strengthened my resolve to go join with those who opposed her. Before it had been a dryad's curiosity but now it out of desire to see Jadis fall.
The cat chuckled at me, his laugh was a reminder of years before, a sweet sound filled with joy. "I figured, being the youngest dryad in these parts, you'd be more reckless than the others. Though I never figured you to sleep like the ancient dryad mother-" With a yelp, he leaped away from my slap.
"Careful or I might leave you," was his threat.
"You couldn't, with no leaves adorning my tree yet I am stuck looking like a human. I can't let the wind carry me. Besides, you're over a hundred years old and might need some assistance getting there yourself."
A growl was the only response I received.
With nothing to take with me, I said my goodbyes to Flidaia and walking through the cold to Aslan's camp. Cadril told me stories of the army that was starting to build, how the earth was warmer where ever the great lion walked. He spoke of the griffins that had flocked to the site, of the many centaurs that had congregated in one spot, how fauns and satyrs worked night and day to forge enough armor and weapons for the masses still pouring in. The tales made my blood burn with adventure and anticipation, often being the only things keeping me from fleeing to the sanctuary of my tree.
We spent the days talking, when we weren't hiding from the Witch's lackeys, with few stops. There was no denying that we were fearful for our lives and excited about meeting Aslan. Being so far from my tree often made me feel alone; I felt lost and cold with the skin I wore. We could both still feel the other, conscious of each other's emotions, but I had never been separated from her for this long.
When we finally arrived at the Narnian encampment I forgot all my discomforts as awe overwhelmed me.
Flidaia felt my staggering amazement and I felt her roots stir in envy. Snow still covered everything, the air only slightly less stinging, but finally getting to see the great Aslan with my own eyes... there was nothing that could ever compare.
Or so I thought.