As soon as they were in the cave, he let their hands go. A shiver went down his spine. Edmund looked at the elf, and turned to Charlie.
"Do you think we can go back on our own?" He asked.
"Yes, I think so." Charlie replied.
"In that case, Kreatur, you don't have to stay if you don't want to. You can go back to Grimmaurd place."
He didn't have to say it twice. The elf instantly disappeared. Charlie cast a Lumos, and lightened the cave. There was no lake to be seen, and they wondered for a second if the elf hadn't taken them to the wrong place. However, they decided to further explore the cave, and Edmund finally found what looked like a door hidden in the wall. He called Charlie.
"How do you think it opens?" He asked.
"I know these runes..." Charlie said. "We have to pay a tribute."
"A tribute? What kind of tribute?"
"Blood..."
Edmund let out a sigh.
"What is it with dark wizards asking for blood?" He complained.
"I'm starting to understand why Kreatur didn't want to stay." the ginger said. "This place is wrong."
"I agree. But we have to move on."
They asked themselves who should pay the tribute, and Charlie came to the conclusion that Ed's blood might not work as he was a muggle. He hence cut his own palm, and paid the tribute, thus opening the door. Edmund tore a piece of his shirt, and wrapped the wizard's hand with the tissue. They crossed the door to discover a bigger, larger cave, which indeed contained a lake.
"Lumos maxima!" Charlie said.
And the cave lightened up, revealing the chain of a boat, and a small island in the middle of the lake. They pulled the chain, and a boat got out of the water. They exchanged a nervous look.
"Be my guest..." Charlie said.
Edmund got on the boat, and tested it's strength.
"It's alright. You can come."
And so Charlie boarded with him, and they roamed to the island. At the centre of it was a column, and on the column was a basin. Inside was a liquid, and at the bottom, a medallion. Edmund tried to plunge his hand in the basin, unsuccessfully.
"Hermione said we had to drink it."
"Well, we could at least try. What's the probability for this water to be poison?"
"Very high. Should we... should we share?"
"No. I'll drink it. You're a wizard. You're more precious."
"I don't give any value to blood status."
Edmund had a smile.
"That's not what I meant. I meant I can't cast a spell. If we have to defend ourselves against... what was it?"
"Inferii... undead corpses."
"Nice. Well I wouldn't be very useful against them. I don't even have my sword."
"I see what you mean. To be honest, I have to admit I'm glad you said that. I don't really want to drink that."
Edmund had another smile, and then took the small cup by the basin, and filled it with the basin's water.
"Cheers!" He said.
He brought the cup to his lips, and then changed his mind, and tried to throw it behind him. The water instantly returned to the basin.
"Worth a shot..." he sighed.
And he filled his cup again. This time, he drank it. He grimaced. It was disgusting, but not that terrible. The cup was small, though, and it would take quite some times to empty the basin. He filled it again, and drank it again. It was only after the fifth cup that he understood. The potion was indeed having an effect on him. It was giving him dreadful visions. And all the guilt he felt was fuel for these visions. Voices in his head kept reminding him all the time he had done something wrong. Reminding him of consequence of what he had done with good intentions. He saw Lucy, as a little girl, savagely attacked by Jadis' wolves. He saw Susan, crying and begging, being executed by the queen herself. He saw himself, putting up a cowardly trap to catch Peter. He saw his own wicked smile when he killed his brother. And then he saw himself, sitting on the witch's throne, betraying her, turning the wolves against her. He saw himself as a tyrant, ruling over Narnia in fire and blood. He saw Hermione being burnt at stake, as he watched from his throne. With each cup he drank came a new vision. And he accepted them all. He clung his teeth and didn't complain. For courage, he started invoking names. Precious names.
"Susan, Peter, Caspian, Lucy!" He called.
And he emptied another cup. It was starting to be painful. But it was his rightful punishment.
"Susan, Peter, Caspian, Lucy!" He called again, louder.
And Charlie didn't know if he should do something.
"There's not much left!" He finally said.
He didn't know if the young man could hear him, but he saw him nod as he kept repeating his chant louder and louder. So Charlie kept on talking to him. As he was getting closer and closer to the end, Edmund stopped saying anything, and would simply let out a scream of rage and hurt.
"I've got it!" Charlie suddenly shouted.
He wondered what he should do with it. Bill would probably have told him not to wear it. He tore apart a large piece of his T-shirt, revealing how frighteningly thin he was, and wrapped the medallion in the piece of fabric, before putting it in his pocket.