The wolf collided with Peter's sword with incredible force. Peter and the wolf's body were thrown into the stream behind him. The current quickly swept them downstream. Peter fought against the icing current, trying to reach the surface. The water stung his body, paralyzing him with the cold. Peter pushed onward. He didn't fight this werewolf just to be defeated by this stream. He broke through the surface and gasped for air.
Peter reached out and grabbed onto the edge of the ground. He was dragged a tad loner, before his grip held firm. Peter pulled his weary body to the edge of the stream and pull himself out of the water. Peter collapsed onto the ground, heaving and shivering. The stream had washed his blood from his body, but it had also exposed him to its extreme temperature, and without any idea how far Peter was from the encampment, he would surely freeze to death.
But Peter was too exhausted, too weak now, to care. He lay in the snow, shivering and gasping for air. His body was slowly shutting down. Peter felt the world was slowly slipping through his fingers. His eyes began losing their sight. Peter fought to keep his eyes open. But they would fall all too soon and he would try again.
"Stay strong, Peter." Called a warm voice.
Peter inhaled deeply and lifted his head. He looked around him. Through his blurry vision, Peter could make out a golden figure. "A-as-lan?"
"Get up, Son of Adam." He called.
Peter nodded slowly. He pushed his arms against the earth and forced himself to his knees. Peter looked up to see the figure moving from him. Peter swallowed and staggered to his feet. He was slowly and staggered much as he followed the figure.
"Come, Peter." He called.
Peter continued onward. His body ached and shivered, but still he pressed on. With every step came more pain, but Peter moved past it. He had to follow Aslan.
It wasn't too long before Peter's battered body had had enough. His legs gave from under him and Peter collapsed into the snow. Peter exhaled and inhaled, trying to get himself back up. But his body had been strained too much to continue further.
"Get up Peter."
Peter tried to rise again, but his body responded by sending waves of pain through his body. Peter groaned and collapsed again. "I can't."
"Get up Peter."
He tensed his muscles and tried to push himself, but collapsed again. Peter lay in the snow, breathing heavily, still trembling. "Forgive me, Aslan. I cannot go on."
Then there was nothing around Peter. No warm glow, no calming voice, nothing. Peter was left alone in the frozen forest. Peter closed his eyes and waited to fall unconscious, but he continued to linger in life. He thought of his family; Susan, Edmund, and Lucy. All back as Cair Paravel, waiting for him to return. He could see their faces break to tears and Oreius told them of his death. He could see Lucy running to Tumnas, crying in his arms. Edmund would blame himself for not being with Peter during the campaign. Susan would remain stunned. She would then be the oldest and thus, High Queen of Narnia. The rule would fall to her.
Forgive me. Peter thought.
Just as Peter felt himself finally slipping beyond anyone's reach, something fell over him. Peter was dragged back. Something was near him. Whatever it was, it was wrapped around his body, warming him. Peter moved slightly as he was lifted into the air. The movement sent pain shooting through his body. Peter groaned as he was moved.
"Be still High King." Came a voice. Peter knew the voice, but he was so weak, he could do nothing but do as the voice said. Peter leaned against something firm and finally drifted into darkness completely.
maybe i should've left them as one chapter? oh well
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