Chapter 10

Narnia, 1009

Asima

While the others made their way back into the great castle, Philip led Asima to the stables. There, the pair met the shy stable hand, who introduced himself as Jeoffer. Asima wondered why he was so shy and quiet, but she paid no mind to it. She was certain that he was just not fond of meeting strangers, much like Verlora. Although, she had to admit, he was much more submissive and polite than she was at first impressions. As he groomed her, she would try to ask him questions to stir up a conversation, but he didn't seem to have much to say. He did, however, do a wonderful job and she enjoyed being properly groomed for the first time in days.

Philip certainly was a good companion, and had been asking her questions the entire time. Not the kind of questions that are meant to be intrusive, but the kind that one asks when meeting a new friend in order to better understand them while maintaining a comfortable level of conversation. He seemed interested in her life outside of Narnia, inquiring about this farm she lived and worked. She realized it was rather difficult to explain, since she grew so accustomed to it over the years. He even inquired about the purpose of such a remarkable saddle, as he has "never seen such a contraption this side of the Stone Table!"

"Asima, you mentioned earlier that the Great Lion put Lady Verlora in your care?"

Asima coughed up the mouthful she was currently chewing, and laughed. "Verlora is by no means a lady, Philip!" She continued to chortle and spew oats everywhere.

Philip seemed confused by her reaction, or confused by her poor manners, and quickly chided herself for possibly offending the Stallion. "I apologize, sir. I did not mean to insult you. It is, well, rather amusing, I suppose, to hear such a description about my friend." She swallowed before quickly adding, "And I am so sorry for my lack of manners. It appears I have forgotten how to be a Horse!"

After finishing her mouthful of oats, Asima took a deep breath and began her story. "Well, as you already know, I was born in Narnia. When I was old enough and deemed fit, I volunteered and joined the Royal Narnian Army of King Gale (I know he has been gone for quite some time, Philip, but please let me finish) and was assigned to Lord Shane. Lord Shane was a Royal Scout of King Gale, and the pair of us travelled far together in search of opportunities to better the kingdom and protect the King and Queen.

"One particular adventure called for us to set sail all the way to the Lone Islands. My Lord argued to have me brought along, as most Horses do not belong on a ship in the Bight of Calormen. Our mission was to investigate the alleged dragon attacks that were claiming the lives and villages of the inhabitants. At first everything seemed well, so we settled in and began meeting with the townspeople to hear their stories.

"That night, in a small farm town in Felimath, the same dragon returned and began to burn and tear down everything in his path. Lord Shane and I were separated, as the two of us were trying to save as many townspeople as possible. When I finally met up with him, he was…" Asi paused, her voice faltering slightly, "Dead. I found him badly burned outside of a collapsed building."

"I am sorry for your loss, Asima." Philip's big brown eyes were glued to the Mare as she continued.

"When I knew the fate of My Lord, I galloped back into town to save more people. Once there, I somehow met a man who was speaking with a crying little girl. I do not remember how I found them, or how they found me. The man threw the girl onto my back, and quickly explained his plan.

"He told me he knew of Aslan's plans. He said my next quest would be long and demanding, and Aslan knew I was the one to watch over the child. He told me to run away from the village, and to not look back. He told me to never let her out of my sight. The man made me promise I would be the one to see her back into this world when the Great Lion called for us. He did not say when I would return, nor did he tell me where I was going. He told me I would know what to do when the moment presented itself. I did not know who this man was, but I could tell his faith in the Lion was unfaltering. I trusted him and did exactly as he said. I believe he was some sort of sign from the Lion himself, and he came all the way just to save the two of us.

"So I fled with Verlora. As we were running from the village, she kicked and cried the entire way. She insisted that I take her back so she could help her parents. She was screaming about her family and anything else she could think of. It took an unbelievable amount of strength to run away. You would think running is a cowardly thing to do, but that was almost unbearable.

"So we ran. I do not know how long I had been at a gallop, but before I knew it, the landscape drastically changed. I was now running across a barren land, with mountains off in the distance. I came upon a strange little town, and tried to wake up Lora (as all the tears and screaming had completely tired her) before I realized my voice was gone. I could not speak; I was turned into a dumb horse. The stranger told me this new land would not be like the world of Narnia, but I was not prepared for that.

"We rode into the little town, which was nothing like anything in Narnia. I tried to call out to someone for help, hoping someone would understand my desperate pleas. Someone must have heard me. for men came out of buildings with ropes and tried to catch me like some wild beast! You think they would recognize a Talking Horse when they saw one. I fought them off as best I could, before I bolted away from the barbaric men." Asima's face twitched into one of disdain as she remembered being roped in like a stray calf. She shook her head and continued.

"That is when I came upon her. The man from the burning village told me I would know when I found what I was looking for, and the older woman who stood in front of me was what we needed. I think she knew as well, so she took the two of us home.

"I stayed with Lora and her new family, watching and guarding her for almost ten and five years, before being pulled back into Narnia a few days ago. And now, we are here. At the mighty Cair Paravel, almost seven hundred years after we originally fled Narnia."

Philip was listening intently, and his eyes showed more sympathy than Asima realized was possible. "I am so sorry, Asima. I didn't realize what you have been through. And do you have any clue why you have returned? Have you heard anything from Aslan since your return?"

Asima's mood quickly sobered, and the wave of confusion she had been pushing back finally surfaced. "I do not know why we were brought back. I have been thinking about it every day. I can only assume Aslan knows what he is doing, and will inform us when we are ready."

"Does Verlora know of this? Does she remember anything?" Philip's attention was digging at Asima, searching for anything. He wanted to help the Mare in any way possible.

Asima sighed and lowered her head. "She said she does not remember anything. She was only a foal when this happened, so I cannot imagine how she could remember. I have told her as much as I possibly can, but I am afraid she is too overwhelmed at the moment. She pretends to mask her face and not let me know what she is thinking, but I have known her far too long for such secrets."

Philip swished his tail back and forth, apparently deep in thought. "Well, Asima, there is only one way to find out. For now, rest. Tomorrow is a new day, and the Kings and Queens will do everything they can to help you and your Human. As will I."

XOXO

Narnia, 294

Galatea

Galatea ventured into the nearest village and felt completely out of place. The occasional trip and stumble was infuriating, for she was once the epitome of grace and elegance. It had been several days and she still didn't understand how to cope with the transformation, but the soft whisperings of Aslan gave her strength and courage when she needed it most. She would grasp for her necklace intermittently, only to calm her nerves and remember who she was and where she came from. She would often look down at the dainty fingers and pale toes that now protruded from her hairless limbs. It felt so different, being in a human's body, and she could hardly imagine what everyone else thought.

There was a throng of people ahead and she didn't know what was going on. Her eyes were the size of a Centaur's hooves as she observed the new world around her. Small carts and booths lined the path, with people meandering and looking at everything. People were selling gifts, foods, cloths, and herbs – everything she could imagine. So many people were bickering and laughing and talking, she could hardly concentrate. Large carts and wagons were being towed around through the crowded streets, and she was almost knocked over several times. Her head was spinning as she tried to absorb as many details as possible. The smells, the sounds, the sights – it was all wrapping around her and pulling her in. And like a cold blast of wind, a dark skinned man snapped her out of her observations.

The Calormene refugee did not blend in well, and she laughed to herself at the irony. She was admiring him from afar, as she did those days ago where he almost bled to death in the silence of the woods. He no longer wore his silver mail shirt, only his bloodied tunic with the gaping hole in the middle. His thick black hair was slicked back with several pieces hanging in front of and framing his strong face. His facial hair was trimmed as well, allowing a minimal amount of whiskers to be seen. His curved blade hung at his hip, softly swaying with him as he walked through the streets.

Her smile disappeared as a wave of embarrassment washed over her. She was too afraid to seek him out and speak with him. What would she say? What would he say? She almost shivered at the thought. So she continued in silence, watching him interact with these other humans.

The next day, she spotted him again outside a blacksmith's forge. She stood off to the side and watched him heckle with the stout rough man, their arms waving frantically as their mouths rapidly spewed words that she couldn't hear. He seemed pleased after a few minutes, for they shook hands and the soldier made his way out of the shed.

She shook her head again and realized she still did not know what to say to the man. She needed the courage of a Lion, not the timid nature of a Unicorn. She sighed, rolled her eyes at her foalish behavior, and began to walk the other way. However, something sturdy blocked her way as she tried to leave.

"You've been following me."

His voice was smooth and it startled her. She wasn't expecting those fluid words to pour out of his mouth like they did. How had he snuck up on her? He was across the path only a moment ago, and it frightened her at how quick he must be. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, for he was quite tall compared to her. She opened her mouth to say something, but was at a loss of words.

"Who are you, my lady?" His dark brown eyes connected with her dark blue ones as he patiently waited for an answer.

Finally, Galatea found her voice and replied, "I did not mean to bother you." Her gaze dropped to his broad shoulders before she coughed and forced herself to look up. "Now if you'll excuse me, I should –"

"No no no no." He softly held his hand up to stop her, but did not touch her. Eyebrows arched, he asked, "Why have you been following me?"

Her cheeks were burning as she rapidly shook her head. "I didn't mean to." She was dumbfounded, standing in the middle of the street talking with this stranger. "I noticed your…" her eyes darted for any of his features, as long as she didn't have to stare into his eyes any longer, "… your hair! You are not from here." She smirked, almost triumphant, for now she was putting him on the spot.

He stiffened and narrowed his eyes. "You noticed my hair?" His mouth was slightly agape as he tried to process what was going on. "My hair?"

"Yes."

He paused for a moment, eyeing the pale woman before him. She could see the look of disbelief stretch across his face. "What is your name?"

She hadn't been expecting that question. Her mind raced for an improvisation, so she retorted, "What is your name?" The young woman crossed her arms, hoping to mimic the man's behavior.

Silence.

She wordlessly held her breath, waiting for the man to answer. After several agonizing moments, she realized his stare was not submissive. His deep brown eyes were almost black, and it was a color she had never seen before. She was trying to think of ways to avoid the question. She couldn't escape those eyes any longer. They bore down into her, digging and searching for any information she was willing to leak.

"Galatea. My name is Galatea," she hesitantly responded and fidgeted with her hands. Her voice was barely above a whisper, and he had to strain his ears to hear her. She shyly glanced at the dark skinned man before pursing her lips and slinking away before he could respond.

And there's chapter 10! I'm not a huge fan of this one either. I might have to go back and fix it at some point. Oh well.

Thank you MCH for the review! I'm glad you enjoyed Verlora's uncomfortable moments :)

Don't forget to review!