Chapter Ten

Seemingly quiet, Evelyn waited for the night to end and for sunrise to occur, her slight intake of breath stirring Beaver from his sleep. He let out a loud yawn, before succumbing to his sleep once again, leaving Evelyn alone with her thoughts. Standing up from her seat, she stretched her arms over her head, she winced at the sound of bones cracking from the stiff position she sat in all night.

Dark clouds still hung around the sky, almost like a battle between night and day. Stars casted a final bright gust of silver light as the sunrays began to outshine them. With no other thought then the magic that was daybreak, Evelyn couldn't stop the fatigue that broke through her body.

Brushing off flakes of pencil shavings off her cloak, she admired her new work. The journal Father Christmas had given her, (Peter had finally relinquished his knowledge on the strange human tradition) was crisp and clean, giving Evelyn comfort through the night. Her pencil strokes were soft and gentle, as she looked over at her muse. He had filled various pages, each portraying the gentleness, the worry, the sweetness and kindness that Evelyn saw in the young Royal. Her drawings held her secrets, her promises and her deepest desires. They were her most intimate thoughts, and she'd guard them with her life.

She let out a timid yawn, pulling her braids out and running her fingers through the waves of her long hair.

"You should leave your hair down more often,"

With a quiet yelp, Evelyn fell backwards, warm arms wrapping around her waist protectively. Peter's smirking face was inches from hers, amusement running through his eyes. "Now whose the one being scared?"

Rolling her eyes, she shoved him away, noticing the way he yawned into his hands, shivering in the cool morning air. Every step she took away from him, he took two steps forward. He wrapped a single ringlet of Evelyn's pale hair around his finger, seemingly entranced by the golden lock.

"You should've woken me up earlier, did you get any sleep at all?" Evelyn felt a blush creep up her neck as she saw the worry cast across his eyes. She'd be lying if she did, in fact, she'd been a little preoccupied with drawing a certain blue-eyed, King-to-be.

Faking indifference, she shrugged her shoulders. "I'm more of a night owl anyway,"

"That seems like a load of bullocks,"

"Language, my dear King. What would your dear subjects say if they heard your Highness' vulgar language?" Evelyn teased, grinning so brightly that Peter almost forgot he was being insulted. His arms tightened around her waist, pulling her flush against him, his lips quirking an impish smirk at the blush that surrounded her cheeks.

He was about to reply, until a loud screech echoed through the clearing. The voice was unmistakeable – Lucy.

A demon of a woman, her hair flowing down in blood-red ringlets around her shoulders like serpents, hissing at the ends of neck. A white dress the colour of ice cinched at her small waist, flowing down in coils of snow. Scarlet blood seeped through her dress, undoubtedly not hers. Her lips pursed into an alluring smile, her tongue flickering out to dampen her lips. Crimson eyes flickered to Peter, and in an instant her hands surrounded the boy's neck, sinking her teeth deep down into the Boy King.

"NO!" Evelyn screeched, grabbing her sword and slashing at the demon. She slinked away, eyes glinting in amusement. Evelyn could do nothing as she saw Peter stumble to the ground, eyes unresponsive.

She stumbled away from the demon, body shaking. Numbness seeped through her body, soon replaced by a fiery guilt that consumed her muscles. Her legs tripped over each other, and she fell back, her head striking the floor.

There lied sweet Lucy, blood seeping out of her neck, bright blue eyes clouded, and Evelyn could not hold the ear-splitting scream that escaped her lips. Her neck had been snapped, bending in an excruciating angle, her skin a deathly white. Susan was not far; her body was unmoving, until it rolled to the other side. Half of her face had been ripped from its bone, hanging from the jaw in shreds.

Her voice turned hoarse, as she turned to her side and retched at the sight. Her body began to heave and she tasted the distinct metallic flavour of her blood. Her whispered "No, no, no," went unheard as the demon wrapped her marble-like fingers around her neck.

The demon grinned wickedly, "Your mother sends her regards, dear Evelyn,"

She felt sick. Her body heaved and shook, her mind in a whirlwind of grief as the oxygen began to cut off from her body. The demon gripped her neck, causing every breath she took to burn her lungs. Tears streamed down in rivers from her eyes, her eyes never leaving Peter's limp body.

"Evelyn," The she-demon licked her blood-red lips, slinking forward towards her.

Mr and Mrs Beaver were torn to bits, mutilated beyond repair. Beaver's eyes had been ripped from their sockets, leaving hollow abysses in its place.

"Evelyn!"

Gasping for air, her body contracted as she jumped up. Cerulean eyes gazed at her, sheened with worry. Peter had shed his coat, and wrapped it around Evelyn's shaking shoulders, gripping the young girl's hands in concern.

Tumnus' voice seemed to float through her mind, awakening a memory that she allowed to succumb her subconscious to.

He was as bright as always, his ruby scarf strewn across the back of his chair as he poured the steaming water into a cup. He smiled softly at the recognisably younger Evelyn, handing her the cup to stop her shudders. "Those people who tried to hurt you, they are Incubi. Or Succubi if they are female. Deadly creatures of Night."

His voice turned darker, as he wrapped an arm around young Evelyn's shoulders, for once grateful of her heritage. "They're fatally attractive, half demon beings with eyes of scarlet and skin as pale as snow that crave the blood that courses through your veins, they only know of the hunt, only know of their hunger. You are lucky that Jadis stopped them in time."

Her eyes contracted, as her body begged for oxygen. She heaved a large breath, before gasping out, "Incubi!" She gripped Peter's shoulders, her eyes crazed. "We need to leave. Now!"

"Evelyn, calm down. It was just a nightmare," Susan had awoken from Evelyn's wild screams, pulling Lucy close to her as she watched Peter bundle their friend close to him.

"You don't understand. Nightmares aren't just nightmares in Narnia, Peter. They're warnings." She pulled herself up from her position on the ground, notching an arrow in her bow. Nudging the Beavers awake, she ignored the snarl that threatened to escape when Beaver rolled his eyes at her, yawning before mumbling "Five more minutes."

"This isn't a laughing matter Beaver! Incubi are coming,"

That seemed to awaken him. His eyes widened, and he shook his wife awake, fear evident in his eyes.

"What are Incubi?" Lucy fisted hands rubbed her eyes, as she staggered up. Mrs Beaver, who was hurriedly packing their limited food into the makeshift bag, shivered at the sound of its name.

"Night-watchers. Monsters that immobilise their prey with terrorizing nightmares that can cause the most fearless soldiers to beg for death." Peter felt the colour drain from his face, as Lucy whimpered near him, clinging onto his hand tightly. "And it is only then, when they are begging for death, do they snap their necks and drink down their blood."

"So, we leave," Peter covered the crude hearth with leaves, ensuring that it was properly extinguished. The Beavers were awoken, and aided in the swift destruction of the camp, hiding their footprints and any signs of living from sight.

Evelyn bundled her cloak around her body, shivering in the darkness of the night. "The sun will be up any minute now, if we can stay out of there way until sunlight, we should be safe."

"Should, being the operative term,"

"Oh, please be quiet Susan." Peter sniped, fear plaguing his mind as he unsheathed his sword at his side.

"Well, I'm just stating that-,"

"For the love of God, can you please shut up?"

"Sh, you're making too much noise!" Lucy interrupted, but it was too late. A soft, sinister laughter bundled near.

Only Beaver's voice could be heard, as he let out a string of profanities.

Aslan's warm presence settled over the Camp, sunlight flickering through the dawn. Aslan had not rested the entire night; his thoughts consumed of the war that seemed to loom over his world. There was tittering in the camp, as fauns worked with steel, preparing swords and armour. Female centaurs were tending to their infants sweetly, whilst others were at the archery range, practicing for the upcoming war.

A seemingly young centaur watched over the entire bustle of war preparation, his hands hovering above his scabbard. As commander of Aslan's army, Oreius was entitled to oversee all proceeds that occurred in Aslan's How, until the Kings and Queens of the Prophecy appeared as promised. He wrapped rested his arm at his side as he came to a stop beside Aslan's tent, standing guard. His dark mane rustled in the wind as he glanced around the camp, anticipation filling him.

"My lord!" a voice called out. A simpering faun came rushing forward, as if he had been caught on fire. Oreius recognised the messenger faun, Harroyld was but a babe, a few months shy of his thirteenth year. He was much too young to be at a war camp, yet Oreius realised the same could be said about him. He too was much too young to be a General.

"Speak, faun." He commanded.

The faun let out a face-splitting grin. "They have been spotted! The scouts have sent me a message to tell Aslan that four humans have been seen, making their way south of Beruna as we speak!"

"You jest?"

"Nay my lord!" Harroyld passed a letter of confinement to Oreius, excitement in his eyes. "They are coming here, my Lord. The Witch's reign will end!"

Oreius' eyes slipped over all of the words, written in a language of forgotten by those but the centaurs. "Do not say a word until I have conversed with The Great Lion, do you understand child?"

"Aye, my Lord!" Harroyld nodded, though nothing could stop the grin that was pasted on his face from escaping. He cheerfully went his way to his mother, who was waiting exasperatedly in the distance for him.

"My lord." Oreius' entered the Lion's tent, his voice deep in the darkness, a sense of warmth for the upcoming dangers that would unfold in the following days. "They have come."

"Peter!" Avalon screeched, gripping him by his shirt and throwing him towards Susan as he unsheathed his sword. "Take the girls and go! Beaver will show you the way!"

He growled, "I'm not leaving without you!"

"Yes, you are!" She pulled her bow and arrow out, sheathing her twin swords strapped to her back. "If we go now, we can make it. But you need a distraction!"

Peter was trying to protest, but even he could see that there was no way they would outrun these creatures. Evelyn, seeing his hesitance rushed to push him out of harms way.

"Go. Heard for Beruna, from their go south only under the cover of day, the Witch's minions are night creatures, they cannot survive in the sun. If she sends wolves, make sure to cover up your sent in the case she sends wolves after you. Make sure you a well hidden before nightfall. It is but a day's walk if you hurry, Beaver knows the way to the Stone Table, Aslan's How is near there and so is his camp. None of the Witch's army has dared to go near, you'll be safe as soon as you reach the Camp."

He gripped her arm tightly, and pulled her as close to him as he could. She could see the fear in his eyes; he was scared she would die here. For some reason, his fear and worry for her sent her stomach twisting into knots, and not the good kind. He'd hate her if he knew who she was. "I can't do this without you."

Gripping his shirt, she pulled him down to her height and kissed his cheek. "You must." She whispered.

"Evie-"

"Come on!" Beaver yelled from behind. "They'll be here soon!"

"Go, Peter."

"Promise me." He said. "Promise me you'll find me, no matter what happens, whatever we go through, that you'll find me and we'll go through this war together." His grip tightened. "Promise me!"

"I promise!" She blurted out, knowing she could very well die at this moment.

"Good." He said, before swooping down and placing his lips on hers. It was a rough kiss, harsh and urgent, as if he know of her thoughts of death and glory. He pulled away a few seconds later, staring into the eyes that mirrored his own. She had no way to react, her mouth parted slightly in wonder. He had the audacity to chuckle, pecking her lips once again before the light left his eyes again.

Remember where they were, Evelyn shoved him away. "Make haste!" She yelled, turning away from him and pushing her way through the thick view of the forest. "You keep your family safe Peter. I will keep you."

"Don't forget your promise, Evelyn!" His voice was barely a whisper as Evelyn pushed him out of the clearing. He turned on his heel and ran as fast as he could, unable to look back as he left her behind.

"Well, wasn't that just heart wrenching?" a honey-suckled voice twisted around. Evelyn did not even hesitate as she pulled the arrow, letting it slide through the air and embedding itself into the monster's heart.

"The irony is dead on you, I see." Evelyn couldn't help but quip, as she saw more and more Incubi coming through the clearing. Notching another arrow, she pulled back the string, releasing them in the blink of an eye.

Jadis had trained her well. Almost too well.

She pulled out one of her twin swords, slashing at anyone who came near her. The death count had started to raise, bodies piling up around her. She was no longer a human or a being; it was as her whole persona had changed. She was a child of Charn. She was a murderer, a merciless being of deceit and fear. Her eyes flashed silver, causing one of the Incubi's to begin to struggle, his hands wrapping around his throat as he began to gag. His body heaved as it twisted within itself. Evelyn raised her hand, closing her fingers into a slow fist. The Incubi's body contorted into itself, as blood filled his lungs.

Regardless of the amount of creatures she had killed, there seemed no end to the battle. Exhaustion was seeping into her; as if sensing this, the Incubi came down harder, and before she knew it, she was swept from beneath her, a hand slamming down on her chest. Her vision was dotted with dark spots, her eyes becoming blurry.

"Time to come home now, sweet Evelyn."

Just as darkness consumed her, the last thought that crossed Evelyn's mind was of sky blue eyes and a lion's roar.