If an ancient tree that was the only stronghold of the entire world, shuddered in the winds of war and fell in the empty woods would anyone hear it? Or feel it? Care?
Years upon years had passed since Aslan, the 'Great' Lion, had returned from the Land beyond the land that feet trod, after sacrificing himself for the youngest Son of Adam according to the High Laws. These immeasurable years were beyond imagining but yet I persevered. Despite this, those horrid, desolate years gave me time to plan a way to undermine His kingdom without the Lion himself disturbing me or even suspecting that I was still here.
Now, now after centuries of waiting my time was here. The four, the Kings and Queens of Narnia, were busy with the invasion of the northeastern countries and had not even a thought of the Western Woods, or of the Lamppost.
Now was my time.
The Western Woods had been all but forgotten; the importance of the Lamppost was slowly becoming lost in the minds of all, as the Woods had grown up around it, marking the passage of time.
The only problem with my devious plan was that now that Aslan was there for good, would felling the Lamppost make any difference?
Would anyone feel the protections fail?
Would anyone care?
Would it be worth it?
Were my powers still there? Or had Aslan banished them too?
Would anyone care?