Chapter 2: Memories

10 Years Later...

The drop glistened as it fell, reflecting each small fragment of the sunlight that inundated the room. I wiped the tears off my cheeks, as I carefully folded up the worn floral and striped cotton dresses to later join their companions in the myriad cardboard boxes. It was so hard not to cry, even now one month later, looking around at the tidy room and the small trinkets she had accumulated over the years.

I found it heartbreaking, picking up the silly charms and things I'd made her over the years, glancing at our smiling faces in the many frames on her bedside table. I couldn't believe Gran was gone; I was alone.

The rest of my childhood home, the place that had always been my respite from the drama of boarding-school and where I'd enjoyed the countless joys of summer vacation, was all packed up. I wearily contemplated the rickety ladder that led up to the attic: it was all that was left. The prospect of having to go through the assortment of things that I knew held no significance to me had made me keep putting it off, but it was inevitable now. With a sigh I climbed into the gabled room, breathing in the earthy smell of the layer of grime that covered its contents and settling down to the tedious task ahead.

I'd been at it for several hours: sorting through folders and odd shaped containers, choosing what to keep and what to give or sell, trying to discern expressions in shadowy photographs… Then I saw that trunk. It was just as I remembered it from that long ago rummage, what had then seemed an adventure now turned into a chore. The golden paint shone a little less brightly but it was still unmistakable. Memories close to my heart made me unlatch it, once again finding that odd assortment of items. It was the bracelet that I was most fond of.

I looked back to when I had first discovered it, when my Gran had first told me the story of that wonderful land of Narnia. Over the course of that summer we'd delved inexhaustibly into the world of talking horses and dancing fauns, where a Lion ruled over all and the castle held four thrones. I had been enchanted by the stories for years, begging to be told more of its lore, as I grew older and came back for the holidays.

Gran loved playing along with me, and always came up with new tidbits and anecdotes of life there, adding in her sister and brothers as magnificent heroes. I must have been fourteen when the stories no longer enthralled me, choosing instead to worry about boys and other grownup things when home. At first my grandmother had tried to keep up the charade, but soon saw I'd grown out of the magical kingdom and its fairytales. I could still remember her face that last time she had attempted it, "Come dear, Mr Tumnus is waiting for us!" she had implored, reluctant to give up the fantasy that had kept us close throughout the years.

That next summer I had started working at the shop and taking classes at the college, hoping my applications would be stronger than everyone else's. Needless to say we hadn't spent as much time together the last few years. I felt guilty, now it was too late to remedy my neglectfulness and no number of magic Lions could fix that.

Still, I clasped the bracelet round my wrist, glad to have the tangible memory of the closeness we had once shared. I was just rearranging the rest of the small packets and things when my hand brushed against something cool and round. Everything went black.

A/N: So here's where our story really begins! I'm sure you'll be happy to be getting out of that attic (sorry about that). I'm sure you have an idea where I'm going with this, but let me know if you like it! :)