Chapter 2: Remember the Fateful Day
Author's Note: I have decided to continue with the story (obviously). So now I'm writing three at once...let's see how this goes. I want to do a post-PC thing, and I figure I can incorporate that into this story and kill two birds with one stone. I'll have to skip over the less-important bits, so I'll do the raid, the witch, the duel/battle, and England. So far, I have the next two chapters almost done, so those should be up soon. Thanks to everyone who added this to story alert and/or favorites or added me to favorite authors. I love getting the alert emails, I know people are actually reading and enjoying my work. :) Thanks to Saoirse7, MCH, Gaia was Framed (are you a PJO/HOO fan too?), and WillowDryad for reviewing!
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Narnia, the characters, situations, or quotes. All rights to C.S. Lewis and Walden Media.
"It doesn't matter how greatly you've been hurt or how much you're hurting, it's what you do with the pain that counts."
-Chris Colfer, The Wishing Spell
Caspian leads us into an underground burn in sockets along the walls, animals and other creatures bustle around. Everyone is preparing for battle; making and mending weapons, standing sentry duty. Everyone knows what to do, how to make everything go as smoothly as it can during a war.
Caspian leads my siblings and I down a hall. He notices our eyes wandering around, taking everything in. "Don't you know what this place is?" All four of us shake our heads. Caspian looks at us strangely and continues down the hall. He shines his torch along the wall. Looking closer, I see that there are paintings on the wall. They look ancient, from our reign at least. The figures look familiar, as if from a memory. Wait...they do look familiar...they're us. Susan, Edmund, Lucy, and I. During our reign, all those years ago. We look so proud, even in the drawings. It's like the statues back in the treasure chamber. We four look like everything one would expect from royalty.
The five of us pass through the chamber into a second one. A stone carving of Aslan is above a very familiar stone table. Realization hits me like a bullet. This is the Stone Table. The one where Aslan was killed all those years ago. I'm not sure if I should be mad or burst into tears. I can only hide behind a mask, pretend to be strong when I'm not.
As if on cue, my three siblings and I walk forward, toward the Table. I chance a glance at my brother and sisters. All look stony-faced and shocked. There is sadness in all their eyes, as if they are remembering that fateful day. We're still projecting the image of royalty; hiding behind blank masks. Caspian may be incompetent, but we sure aren't. We know how royalty is supposed to act: strong, with a heart of steel. The subjects look to their rulers for strength.
An aura of great power hangs in the air, seeping into every surface. It tries to get into me, but I refuse to let it in. I recall the first time I heard Aslan's name, all those years ago at the Beavers' dam. I remember the bravery and adventure that had coursed through my veins, giving me the courage to carry on.
Now, in the underground chamber, I feel none of the old courage. I feel disappointment, and I know Aslan isn't happy with me. Part of me wants to change so He'll be happy with me. But there's another, louder part of me that's saying I can do it all alone. I don't need Aslan or anyone else's help. If Aslan was really going to help us, He'd be here. He'd be here, like last time.
In that instant, a lifetime of memories come flooding back to me. Aslan killing the White Witch at Beruna. The balls and the feasts, the battles and tournaments. Sea voyages and visits of state. The old Narnia. Everything we lost. I want to shout angrily, to burst into tears. How could Aslan have let this happen? How could he just stand by while our beautiful home was destroyed and conquered? How could he have allowed us to leave and sent Narnia into this? The Narnians driven into hiding in their own country, Miraz and the Telmarines on the throne. The landscape nothing like the one I knew so well.
I'm almost glad Cair Paravel is gone. I don't think I'd have been able to stand the thought of Miraz living in my home; he and his men on my siblings' and my thrones. Walking the halls of Cair Paravel...No.
Then I remember the state in which we found our castle. The columns and glass roof gone, the walls crumbled away. The beautiful paintings and tapestries gone. The gardens and orchard stone floor cracked and covered in weeds. Even the four white thrones were gone.
The castle was the symbol of our reign. To see it destroyed is to know our reign has truly ended. The Telmarines really have taken over, erased all signs of the old Narnia.
I glance to my right at Edmund. It's funny, we're still in coronation order. We did this in England, too. Whenever we four sat together, it was always in the old order. Old habits die heard, I guess. Sitting this way, in our old throne order, kept at least one thing the same in England. One tiny reminder of Narnia.
Edmund's eyes are guarded. Usually I can read him like a book, but recently it's become more difficult. There is a wall up behind his dark eyes, one even I can't penetrate. Edmund's been avoiding my eyes ever since we got here, to the How. I can understand. Honestly, I've been avoiding him too. I feel certain that meeting his eyes will cause me to finally break. First coming here and seeing Cair Paravel in ruins, now the Stone Table. A reminder of everything that happened with the witch all those years ago; right when we're least expecting it.
Lucy and Susan look devastated, a shadow over their eyes. If anyone's remembering that day, they are. They saw it happen.
We follow Caspian out of the chamber. None of us want to stay any longer,
it's all too painful. Outside, everyone is busy preparing for war.
Can we even win this? Caspian has no experience, and I don't know about the others. They look pretty well-trained, but it's no proper army. Nothing like what Narnia used to have.
We have to attack their castle, it's the only way. We can't keep hiding forever. We keep hiding, and we're dead.
Author's Note Part Two: The next chapter is almost done, as is the one after that, so those should be up soon!
