Chapter 37: For Aslan…

With a grunt, Edmund felt his arm being yanked back from the force of crashing into the minotaur. He felt the heavy jerk and was worried for a moment that his shoulder was dislocated in the effort but he didn't have time to worry about it. He swung his sword at anyone coming at him, countless minotaurs, boggles, gargoyles, ghouls, ogres, goblins, and hags.

Dava, thankfully, managed to keep her frantic running pace. She stumbled every now and then when she was hit by stray weapons and charging enemies but she kept on going. She ducked her head and rammed into anyone that got in her way.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see the powerful, muscle-filled legs of Siber keeping up with Dava. He broke his focus momentarily, enough to see Crystal drive a sword into the body of an ogre that charged at them. She shook off the blood that spurted onto her arm and kept going.

Edmund urged Dava on. Dust lifted into the air, thick and suffocating. Edmund's chest heaved beneath the constricting armor on his chest, making the effort of drawing more air into his lungs that much more difficult. Adrenaline rushed though his body. He hardly felt the blows that managed to land on him. If it weren't for the odd ringing noise he wouldn't have noticed that arrows were flying past him, landing on anything and everything in their way. It did make his efforts a little easier. Now all he had to try and find was the elusive witch.

"Whoa!" Edmund uttered. Dava had been hit. He suddenly pitched forward and was on a crash course to the ground. He closed his eyes and saw stars burst in the blackness behind his lids when he hit the ground. He bounced on the ground once, twice, and then came to a stop. He opened his eyes and scrambled to his feet. His helmet fell off of his head, the strap having been broken, and landed on the ground.

Keeping his hand on his sword he took the chance to survey his surroundings. Swords clashed, metal glinted in the sunlight, roars of triumph and screams of agony pierced the air. Edmund's eyes zeroed in on Dava who was striking down anyone near her with her hooves.

"Dava, get back! Go back to the camp," Edmund called out. "Hurry, go!"

He heard something roaring behind him and swung his body around, bringing up his sword. All he saw was a flash of fur and then blood dripped onto his hand. Withdrawing his sword he started forward again, swinging at anything that came his way, jumping this way and that to dodge axes and other weapons that wanted to land a blow on him. At one point a wolf had managed to knock him to the ground and clamped its strong jaws on his arm. Thankfully he had a band of armor and a layer of chainmail on his arm so the wolf's teeth didn't get that far.

Having lost his sword in the initial tackle Edmund used his other hand to land punch after punch on the wolf. How in the world had Peter managed to take one down? With every twist of the wolf's head he was sure that his wrist would end up snapping from the effort.

"Edmund!"

Edmund lifted his chin, trying to see who it was that called out his name. A second later the wolf let out a whimper of pain and then its entire weight landed atop of him, forcing out the remaining breath in his lungs. He struggled to breath beneath the sack of hair on top of him.

Groaning, he managed to put his hands on the slain wolf and pushed it away. He struggled to his feet, feeling a hand on his arm to help him regain his balance.

"Areyoualright?" Crystal asked in one breath.

"Fine," Edmund gasped, reaching for his sword again. "Who…?" He turned to the sword and saw and arrow sticking out of it.

"Edmund!" Susan ran over to the two, her bow clutched tightly in one hand.

"'M fine," he grunted, finally getting his breath back. Beads of sweat collected around his neck and hung around his hairline. The high sun beat down on them and made him feel as if he were being cooked alive in his armor. "Nice shot," he added.

"Thanks." Susan's arm reached back to her quiver in one fluid motion. She notched her arrow, squeezed one eye shut, and let it go. The arrow flew past Crystal's ear and struck the ghoul that had snuck up behind her. Its body jerked and then fell heavily to the ground. The two girls locked eyes but didn't say a word. Susan was the one to turn away. "The White Witch is at the back. I think she wants you to go through her whole army to get to her. Isabella's not there."

"Want me to come?" Crystal asked Edmund.

He shook his head. "No. I'll do this myself." Spotting a griffin up in the air he signaled to the majestic hybrid. It turned on its side and began to drive bomb towards the ground, barrel rolling as arrows were fired at it. "Don't stop, keep going," he added over his shoulder. And then he started running. He swung his sword to knock out anyone in his way. Once he was close enough to the griffin he managed to grab onto its side and lift himself onto the creature's back. He swung his legs forward and knocked a leaping white tiger out of the way and then swung up and onto the griffin's back.

Looking down he spotted Susan and Crystal fighting back-to-back, taking down anything that got close enough to them. They'll be fine. Get the White Witch out of the way, he told himself. He gripped onto the griffin tighter to be sure he didn't fall off as wind whistled in his ears and clawed at him.

There.

Seeing the White Witch again, and not just in his dreams, made his body tense as white hot fury took him over. All sound seemed to stop except for his heavy breathing and his beating heart. From down below she looked up at him.

Their eyes locked.

The griffin swooped down, launching his stomach into his throat. He pressed himself flat against the creature's back as it ducked and spun to avoid the arrows flying their way. Edmund could hear the buzzing sound of their fletching as they flew by him.

When he got close enough he jumped off the griffin, bringing his sword down. It sliced through the air and slashed against the White Witch's sword. His feet hit the ground with a loud thud. The tremor of vibration shot up his arms, made his bones creak. Close to the ground he swung his leg out, trying to knock her over. She anticipated the move and swung her sword down close to his head.

Edmund ducked, hearing the sword slice through the air. He managed to get out of the way and stand tall. Their eyes locked again. Brown looked into cold blue. They were cold and vibrant, hard and alive all at once.

"You don't know what you're doing, Edmund," Jadis said. Edmund licked his lips. The two circled each other, slowly. "I could make you my king. Isn't that what you've always wanted? To become king?"

"I already am king," Edmund replied.

"Just a king. A just king." She laughed in his face. He scowled. How dare she laugh at a name that Aslan himself bestowed upon him? "You could be High King. You deserve to be High King. And I could make you a High King."

"While you take over Narnia as an Empress? Making things worse than they were before? I think not!" Edmund replied. "I will not sit by and let you ruin Narnia."

Jadis smirked. "A fool's mistake."

And they were off. They shifted their weight from leg to leg to land the best blow on one another. Edmund blocked every slash of her sword that came in his direction. He used the armor on his arms to block the shots that he couldn't properly protect. He wished he had brought a shield with him. He was still wary of her wand-turned spear. He knew she had it on her.

He dropped his eyes to her waist. That gave her an opportunity. She drew back her sword and smacked him across the face. Colors burst in his eyes. His head snapped to the side. His mouth throbbed with pain and blood dripped down his chin. Stumbling away he ran his tongue along his teeth. All of them were there, none were broken, thankfully.

The fire in his belly raged on, feeding on his dark desire to have her blood on his hands.

Edmund jumped back at her attempt to stab him. Thankfully he missed. He didn't want to have another scar marring the stretch of skin on his side. It was hard to hide that from his mother the first time. Trying to find a different excuse would be tough.

The attack only made him angrier, spurred him on.

Edmund attacked with blind fury, thrusting, jabbing, and lunging with his sword. He took many steps forward, driving Jadis back. She blocked every one of his hits but he didn't give up. He ignored his screaming muscles and the pain that built in his arms. He fought through it. The image in his mind of her on her knees, begging for him to spare her kept him going. But he knew his flame would go out soon so he had to get to her now.

He recalled the training that he had learned over the years. He changed up his stance, his swings, and his jabs. He shifted his weight and changed his tactic to disarming rather than harming. That worked in his favor. Jadis's eyes widened momentarily, clearly not ready for this change. He had the upper hand in his surprise attack.

He jumped out of the way from the thrust of her broken wand and brought his sword down, slashing her wrist. When the sword fell to the ground he stomped on one end, putting all of his weight on one foot to keep it there in case she tried to pick it up. In a swift motion he brought his sword up to match hers, using his weight to swing it around once, twice, thrice…

The handle of the blade shook when it sunk into the ground. Chest heaving, face smeared with sweat and dirt, Edmund held the tip of his sword underneath Jadis's neck. She dropped down to her knees and peered up at him from the tip of the blade.

"So?" Jadis asked, looking at him. "Go ahead and do it." Her lips quirked up into a smirk and she added, "King. Or are you waiting for your precious lion to come and strike me down instead? Can't do anything for yourself, then? Always need someone to take care of your dirty work."

Edmund's sword shook from his suppressed rage. He took a few deep breaths to try and calm himself down. "You listen here," he growled. "That is the difference between you and us. Even if Aslan isn't here he will always be here for us. Even if we don't see him we know that he is rooting for us. We know that he will be there for the good and bad times and we know that he will come in when he is needed and not a minute sooner because he knows how strong we are. He loves us and we love him and that's something you'll never understand. How much power love holds. You want to rule Narnia. You don't love Narnia. And that will always be your fatal flaw."

A loud roar echoed across the vast, rolling green grass. Jadis's eyes widened and her body trembled. Edmund kept his sword up but looked behind him for the first time in who knows how long. Bodies littered the ground; he couldn't differentiate which side they were for. He didn't want to know.

Especially since the Great and Noble Lion was running his way.

"Aslan," Edmund croaked. He licked his dry, cracked lips. The sting was sharp and the metallic taste of blood clung to his tongue.

Aslan didn't address the young king. He gave his long fur a shake and approached the kneeling witch.

"You cannot leave one's business to them, can you, Aslan?" Jadis asked.

Aslan blinked his large, golden eyes and said calmly, "As long as the sun shines, as long as the seas glisten, and as long as the flowers bloom I will be there for those who will have me and protect those that will allow me to." He turned to Edmund. "A sacrifice has been made. It us up to you to decide how to proceed."

Edmund gulped. He looked from the lion and over to Jadis who had her eyes trained on the large cat. He looked back behind him to see that the fighting was still going on despite Aslan's arrival. How many times would they have to do away with the White Witch until they could live in peace? How many more conflicts would they have to go through until Narnia was a war-free state? A year? Two? Fifteen? More.

No matter. He would be there for Narnia as long as Narnia was there for him.

"I wish to end this," Edmund replied. Rubbing his cracked lips together, pulling a small thread of loose skin between his teeth he lifted his sword high.

"You will not do it," Jadis taunted him. "You do not have the courage. You will always be weak. Always."

Edmund sucked in a breath through his nose. "No," he replied. "I will be strong so long as I have the Narnians and my family and Aslan with me. You are the one who is weak."

He drove his sword forward, feeling resistance and hearing the strangled gasp. He yanked the sword back and forced himself to watch her eyes harden until they glazed over and her heavy body fell to the ground with a thud of finality. Edmund's hand shook and he dropped his sword. He backed away from the sight and tilted his head back to the sun, feeling its powerful rays on his face. His heart beat hard, his weary body felt heavy, and his eyelids lowered as exhaustion started to set in. If Aslan didn't press himself against Edmund's side he would have fallen over.

"Aslan…" Edmund murmured.

"You did well, young one." Aslan's rumbling voice filled Edmund with an odd sort of peace.

"You said…there was…a sacrifice?" He panted.

"I did."

"…Who was it?"