Prologue
...
London, England
The rain had relentlessly been falling in torrential downpour for the past week. Down the busy streets of London, fog and steam wafted it's way through the bustle of the umbrella packed crowd.
Peter Pevensie shivered as the cold harsh rain pounded down upon his worn black coat. The only good thing about the miserable weather was that it suited his mood most accurately. It had been close to four months since his return to England from an unexpected and abrupt 'holiday' quite literally a few hours before the beginning of the school year.
The thing about Peter Pevensie was, along with his younger brother Edmund and their two sisters Lucy and Susan, they had all once been kings and queens in a world separate from England. While the children had been staying with a mysterious professor during the air raids, the youngest Pevensie, Lucy, had stumbled upon a magical wardrobe that transported the children to the far off land of Narnia. After freeing the Narnians from the clutches of the evil White Witch, the four siblings had become kings and queens and had lived out their lives in the land far from home, until one day, years later when they were all adults, they had found themselves chasing a stag one moment, and tumbling through the wardrobe and back into England and their youth the next.
They had almost lost all hope until a year later, in the very train station that was the carry them off to a cruel fate of school in the city, they had been called back by Prince Caspian, hundreds of years ahead of their time in Narnia. After successfully reclaiming Narnia and putting Caspian on the throne, it had once again been time to say goodbye and return to their own home. For Peter and Susan, they suffered the cruel fate of knowing they were never to return again, for they were to old.
Or so, those had been the words of Aslan. Peter's stomach gave a lurch and turned icy cold at the very thought of the name. All though he had come face to face with the fact that he would never return to Narnia, it had never been driven from his thoughts for a single day since his return. He told himself over and over he would get accustomed to regular life, but so far, it had not been easy.
A tall, scruffy boy roughly the same age as Peter bumped into him as he passed, knocking Peter's umbrella to the ground.
"Watch it, tosser!" The lad jeered at Peter as he fell back into pace with the crowd. Peter's teeth and fists clenched in unison as he bent down to retrieve his umbrella. His sister Susan's words entered his thoughts.
"No more Fights Peter, just remember what Aslan said. It's time we lived our lives back here. Just don't let them bother you, all right?"
Peter unclenched his jaw and took a deep breath as he stood up.
The breath caught in his chest. There she was. Standing at the newsstand, thumbing through the first few pages of the daily post. Peter shuffled to the edge of the sidewalk as to avoid anymore-rude bumping civilians.
Yes, it was definitely her. The long, dark raven hair fell from her shoulders onto her gray school uniform. Peter inched closer to the stand to get a better look, his heart accelerating with each step.
Sure enough, there it was; the feeling yet again. He stepped closer. The girl's forefinger and thumb slid gently between the pages of the next newspaper, her lips forming a small frown.
Yes, again! He could feel it, almost taste it on the very air he breathed.
"Magic," he whispered.
"Sorry?"
Peter jumped and collided with the side of the newsstand. She had spun around, and now looked at him perplexedly, her pale blue eyes searching him up and down.
"I, umm, I—" Peter stuttered, trying to recover himself.
"Wait a minute," she said, her eyes narrowing. "Don't I know you from school?"
"Umm, I, do you?" Peter stammered weakly.
"Yes, I know who you are now. You're definitely in my literature class." She smiled; her pale lips curved upwards, sending a tingle to rush throughout Peter.
He opened his mouth to reply but she had already begun to speak.
"You're the one who sits behind me to the left, brooding all day long as you pretend to listen to what Professor Morrow has to say."
Peter flushed scarlet but noticed that she now had a playful smile tugging on the corners of her mouth.
"I do have a name," he blurted, rather rudely without realizing it. "I'm Peter."
The girl unfolded her arms. "Lara," she said, cocking one eyebrow and extending her right hand.
Peter took it. The second their skin met, a rush sent electric shivers shooting through his body. It was over in an instant. She pulled back and resumed her arms in folded position.
"So," she said pleasantly. "What are you doing?"
"That's a little forward, isn't it?" Peter said, taken aback slightly.
The girl, Lara shrugged. "It's a simple question, really. I don't see anything rude about it. I think it would be more rude of you not to answer."
Peter frowned. "I was going to buy a paper. My wireless cut out in the dorm, and I like to keep up to date with the war."
"You're Father too, huh?" Lara asked softly.
"Well yes," Peter replied, a sudden understanding that required no words suddenly came between them.
"Well, you really needn't bother wasting your money." Lara went on. "I've flipped through all of them, seems our front is holding up a good fight. But it is a British paper, really, they're all paid to write as if we're winning."
"I know." Peter smiled grimly. "But it does put you at little more at ease, doesn't it?"
"Yes," Lara said, her gaze shifting up to his. Their eyes met, blue orbs on blue orbs. Peter's insides leapt; the feeling, again!
And as soon as he had thought it, it vanished. The girl stepped closer to him to avoid an incoming newspaper shopper.
"Are you heading back to the school then?" She asked.
"I might as well," Peter sighed glumly. "There really isn't much else to do except enjoy the wonderful weather."
Lara laughed.
"Would mind walking with me then? I was foolish enough to forget an umbrella."
"Of course," Peter felt his cheeks heat up slightly and hoped she wouldn't notice. He opened the umbrella and lifted it over their heads, offering her his arm. She smiled at him, her blue eyes dancing all though there was no sun.
Peter kept his gaze fixed on her as they set off down the busy London Street, the whole time keeping his senses peeled for another sign. Praying that his mind was not filling itself with crazy notions and thoughts. For he was certain he had sensed something around this girl, a feeling that he hadn't felt since being back in Narnia. The feeling of pure, deep magic.
