Chapter 10: The Witch (Part Three)
"...and where are they camped, my dear?" asked Jadis with mock affection.
"Well, most don't like to stick around in one spot, love," said Mr. Beaver, patting Jadis's knee in return affection, "Especially the centaur, roamers and all that."
Namine watches the interrogation, sickened to her core. Jadis had ordered her to replace Mr. Beaver in his mind with Jadis, and the den he lived at with Jadis's castle. Intellectually, Namine knows Beaver gave her his secret permission and forgiveness, but watching it in action, violating his mind in such a way... it takes so much not to wretch, to cry, to... to just stand there watching it happen. But... but she knows she has to.
She and Beaver had talked and practiced long into the night. She knew she wasn't ready yet to risk facing Jadis. She didn't know if Jadis had any kind of defenses against this power, and if Namine failed, it was going to be the only chance she had because Jadis would kill her. Namine needed time to learn more, to become quick and precise. So while Jadis was interrogating the Beaver, Namine was practicing her power on the wolves watching Mr Beaver. She picked through their minds, practicing locking, sealing, unchaining, re-chaining, and fogging unimportant memories that wouldn't alert them to something happening at the moment. She was learning how different kinds of memories felt, and was becoming better on picking up on that difference between them faster.
Happy, sad, joyful, hateful, emotional memories were easier to locate. But the things Namine wanted to do and find, erasing the memory of how to perform an act, was harder. The wolves for example had so many memories from when they were pups to now that steadily taught them how to hunt. A lot of that had patience, and that didn't really jump out to her. She's very certain that if she were being hunted by a wolf right now, she wouldn't be able to break the chains of memories that taught them how to track her down. Not quickly enough anyway, not without brute force breaking them all.
"...but really, if I had to pick a place, Beruna is pretty frequent," said Mr Beaver, "And, ya know, the spot."
Jadis leaned forward. "...the spot?"
"Ahuh," agreed Mr. Beaver, "If Aslan calls for us to unite, the fields outside Beruna are where we are to gather."
Jadis smiles menacingly. "Thank you dear, you've been so very helpful."
The False Queen of Narnia looks up to Namine, "My little abomination, would it not be kind to fix his mind? It would be such a shame for him to keep thinking we are wed, and to not realize just what he has told me."
Cruel bitch.
Larxene might have hurt Namine (cut and healed her so many times), had been cruel, but honestly, Larxene hadn't ruined near the amount of lives Jadis had. All those statues downstairs were people frozen. All the memories she was witnessing in the wolves, of their orders to hurt, hunt, kill, capture, and the like. Loose things they were aware of. All the people Jadis enslaved. Namine personally feared and hated Larxene, but really, she had nothing on Jadis. Well, if Larxene got the drop on Jadis maybe she could kill her, but otherwise...
Namine shakes away the thought and does what the White Witch asks. The Beaver's face screws up for a moment as his mind processes the sudden change, he blinks a few times, then he grows furious and glares at Jadis. "You! You!"
"Me," mocks Jadis, "Take him away."
The wolves surround the Beaver, snapping, "Move, runt."
Mr. Beaver harrumphed. "Runt? I'd kick your sorry behind one on one."
The wolf nipped at him in warning. "Fine fine fine, I'm moving."
Jadis hummed as she leaned back in her chair. "Beruna. I wont likely be able to deal with all of them at once if they aren't gathered, but I will certainly be able to eliminate a great deal of my opposition, and properly cow the rest with a show of force."
She snaps her fingers, a pulse of magic emanating from it. After a few minutes, one of her servants, a minotaur, entered the throne room and knelt before the White Witch. "My Queen."
"General Otmin," she greeted, "I want the summons to go into effect. Within the week, I desire our forces marshaled, and scouts sent out to Beruna to asses the area."
Namine's stomach plummets.
A week?
A week?!
That's all the time she has?
She swallows thickly. She could let it go through, do nothing, keep growing better with her power, but...
Could she live with herself if so many people died because of her power and lack of action?
No.
A week, a week is her deadline. A terrifying deadline, but a deadline non-the less.
"Its time."
Namine startles and looks to Jadis. "What?"
The White Witch has perhaps the most cruel expression on her face that Namine has ever seen. "You are my trump card, my little abomination. A week is not a long time to perfect your use. How fortunate that we have an entire host of frozen guests downstairs to practice on."
"Practice what on?" asks Namine with a sinking feeling in her stomach.
"Our enemy is Aslan," whispers Jadis hatefully, "We must be able to destroy him quickly, without hesitation. On this end, I want to see what happens if you destroy someone's memories completely, and for you to be swift about it."
Namine pales.
Jadis smiles.
The walk downstairs is terrifyingly slow, and it gives Namine time to make a choice. She could use this to practice the very thing Jadis wants, only to use it on Jadis when she is ready rather than Aslan. But to practice on the innocent, who never willingly chose to make the sacrifice Mr Beaver has? She's not sure she could ever forgive herself, or if she'd ever want to. She clenches her fists tightly, fingers scratching at her own skin anxiously. If its not about forgiveness, then could she live with herself if she did this? On the other hand, could she live with not doing it? Could she stop Jadis without truly knowing the ins and outs of destroying someone's memories? Who knows how many will suffer if she fails here.
Castle Oblivion weighs heavily on her mind, Roxas's murder by forcing him back to Sora weighs heavily on her mind. In the end...
In the end, she does not know if its weakness or strength that causes her to make the decision:
She will not let anyone force her to murder or destroy someone ever again.
So when Jadis orders Namine to obliterate the memories of those she unfreezes, Namine grabs all their memories and does one giant haphazard lock instead, reverting them to basically babies who can only babble and flail. Jadis laughs at their helplessness, gleeful as she pokes and prods them before refreezing them. Namine never knows if she will ever get the chance to undo this later, so she undoes the locks as they're frozen, giving them no chance to react while their minds are re-adjusting. She hopes that if they are ever unfrozen, they wont suffer side effects from such heavy changes in such a short amount of time along with their being unfrozen and re-frozen.
The chance to practice destroying memories does come however.
At the end of the day, the minotaur Otim returns, relays that the order to gather has been given. Jadis gives the beast-man a room to sleep in, but instructs him to take Namine to her own first. She picks through his memories, and her rage grows. Oh, she already had some idea from the wolves, and from Mr Beaver's memories. But first hand experience? Otim is Jadis's left hand, her general. He is responsible for atrocities and wholesale slaughter. She witnesses memories of murder, of bringing a battle-axe down and killing the innocent as if she had done so herself.
She's shaking by the time they reach her room. She can hardly breath, she has tears streaming down her face. How can such evil exist? How can anyone do that to so many other living beings? Enjoy in their suffering? Why why why why why?!
Otim takes one look at her face and gives her a look of disgust before shoving her into the room. "Weak. I don't know what our Queen sees in a pathetic, worthless, little abomination like you."
Something snaps inside of her. Like a tide, something cold and consuming washes over her. Its hate. All consuming. She hates her power. She hates her life. She hates Jadis. She hates Otim. She hates DiZ. She hates Larxene. She hates Marluxia. She hates the Organization. Part of her hates the original Kairi. Part of her hates the Keybearers for dying and not being there to stop everything that happened. She hates so much and so many more things, but most of all, she hates herself. She hates and hates and hates and hates...
Namine turns and looks at the beast, for that is all he truly is, and raises her hand. A dark, purplish glow surrounds her hand, spreading down to coat her body. "Let me show you."
He doesn't get the chance to scream.
She reaches in on terrifying instinct.
There is something dark in her that just knows.
She shatters the chain of memories without a shred of hesitation.
Otim drops with only the sound of impact as the result. Drool leaks down his mouth. His eyes are vacant.
She stares at him, stares at her hand... stares at the darkness coating her body...
She doesn't care.
All she feels is hatred.
All she feels is pain.
"We have all night together until we are needed," muses Namine, "I suppose I better see if I can stitch you back together again to not draw suspicion."
She smiles down at the beast.
Its not a kind smile.
"If I can't, I'll make an excuse, that you tried to hurt me and I defended myself," she continues, "If I can, well... we're going to keep practicing destroying you again and again and again..."
She giggles to herself.
Everything feels right.
Everything feels wrong.
Why does everything hurt so much?
She pushes it aside, and she reaches inside the beast again, considering the mess she made, and sees about forcing it back together.
*skitter skitter*
She pauses and looks up, seeing...
She narrows her eyes at the sight of one of those little irritating monsters that had attacked her and Kairi. Its standing on the other side side of her room's window's bars, staring at her. Irritation comes out of it like before, but something... else to, a feeling she can't parse at the moment, the mess that she is. She's not sure what it is, but she doesn't care. She aims a darkness coated hand at it and unmakes it...
She stitches the minotaur back together, repairing enough chains of memories to make it functional. She had some practice already from fixing Sora, and with this beast she doesn't care if she's gentle about the whole thing. She erases her destruction of the beast from its mind, and forces a kind of vague uncaring glaze over the damage that remains. It knows enough to command, to lead, to fight, that its loyal to Jandis, some basic information on how to eat and function day to date. But things like its wife? Its children? Its clan?
It doesn't deserve to remember them.
Twisted glee files her for a moment, for making this horrible monster suffer...
Even if she knows what she is doing is wrong.
Jadis of course doesn't particularly notice anything wrong with Otim, doesn't care about her underlings. Namine's growing apathy over her 'practicing' on the unfrozen victims is however noted, praised, and rewarded. So long as she doesn't leave the castle, she's allowed to wander about, allowed to eat whenever she wants. Apparently becoming an heartless wretch is all one needs to earn Jadis's favor. She hates it.
That she's rewarded for hurting others.
Its all she ever does.
As the week passes, it feels like that hatred is eating her alive, colder and colder. She's falling apart, and its... its hard to feel anything but hate anymore. She wonders, is this what its like to be consumed by darkness? Is she going to turn into a heartless she wonders, or just stop caring at all?
Jadis makes a passing comment on the last dinner before they are to depart the following morning, "Perhaps you should say 'goodbye' to your first test subject, hmm? Let him know that when we return, Aslan and his pathetic resistance will be no more."
Jadis leans back in her chair, smirking. "Perhaps it would be a kindness to destroy his memories too and let the cold take him, rather than let him live on beyond the death of the one he devotes himself to. Or not, I leave it to you, my little abomination."
"As you wish," said Namine quietly, getting up and leaving.
Mr Beaver takes one look at her when she walks into the cells and knows something is wrong. "Namine? Lass? What is it?"
Namine shrugs, not looking at him. "We're leaving for Beruna tomorrow and..."
"Namine," he said softly, "I don't care about that, what's wrong?"
The care in his voice brings tears to her eyes. "I..."
"C'mere dearie," he said patting the floor infront of his cell with a little paw reached through.
She obeys and slumps down, back against the bars. He paws gently through her hair. "What happened?"
"I... I went through her general's memories," she chokes out, "So many people, I watched him murder and hurt so many people... I can feel the blood on my hands, on my face, like I was there... I keep seeing it..."
"Oh Namine," said Mr Beaver with such sorrow, "Dearie, you shouldn't have done that. Shouldn't have forced yourself to see that. You're just a babe, you shouldn't..."
"I made him hurt," Namine interrupts, and the paws in her hair grow still, "I shattered and put him back together again and again and again..."
She's shivering. "I took memories of his family and clan away from him, and I... I enjoyed it."
Her shoulder's slump. "I only exist to hurt people..."
"Now you listen to me, Namine," said Mr Beaver, tone sharp, "I don't approve of what you did, and I don't think you do either. Even if that ol' bastard right deserves it, we aren't them, Namine. We can't become like them. You especially can't afford to become like them. Namine, I don't need to spell out what you'd become if you followed Jadis down the path that witch walked. Righteousness Namine, not revenge. I know this trial is cruel, I know its horrible for you, nothing a child should be forced to go through, especially so alone, but you've got to keep it together."
"I don't know if I can," she answers, starting to sob, "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."
"Breath Namine, breath," orders Mr Beaver, "One two three, breath with me dearie, breath. After this is over, after we're free of this, what are you looking forward to? Tell ol' Beaver."
Namine takes in gasping breaths, struggling with herself. "I... I want to go home."
"Yeah? Got family and friends you want to see?"
She thinks of Kairi, she thinks of Ame. The guards. Aqua. The other Keybearers, her duty...
She stares down at her hands, and briefly wills her hatred to life, seeing that dark miasma around her hands. All she feels is failure. "I don't deserve them..."
Mr Beaver hums to himself, resuming pawing through his hands. He doesn't argue with her, at least, not the way she thought he'd try. "Then what are you going to do to make sure you do deserve them?"
She clenches her fists tightly, closing her eyes. "I... I wanted the chance to help people, not hurt them."
Mr Beaver hums in agreement. "Then do so. Even if that bastard Otim doesn't deserve an ounce of compassion for what he's done, fix as much of his memories as you can on your way to Beruna. No one deserves their family stolen from them. As a repentance, maybe bring some focus on his family, good memories? When the Witch falls, those who served her faithfully are going to find their days numbered one way or another, so this'll likely be his last chance to think of them. Alright?"
"Okay...," she whispers, wondering how he can possibly find such kindness for so horrible a being.
"Use your power for righteousness, not revenge," continues Mr Beaver, "You want to help people? Help Narnia, like we planned. Defeat the Witch and the rest of them will fall apart. While I don't approve of their cowardice in not resisting her, many serve to not have the boot come down on their head. Don't destroy those you don't have to."
"Okay..."
"Its almost over Namine," soothes Mr Beaver, "Just hold yourself together for a little bit longer. Hold yourself together through tomorrow, through the travel time to Beruna, and then whatever happens there, and remember Namine, this is important, I know it only gives you a small window of opportunity, but you must declare your rebellion, in front of Aslan, the Witch, to the gathered Narnians, before you strike."
She opens her eyes, stares down at her hands... and tries her best to late go of the hate, watching the darkness slowly fade back into her. But its not truly gone, she can feel it lurking below her skin. Barely withheld. She truly doesn't know how much longer she can stand this before something gives again. She doesn't think it will be half as long as she did the first time, if she's even that lucky.
"I'll... I'll try," she says, "I don't know if I can, but I'll try."
He kisses the back of her head. "That's all I ask.
"I have a gift for you, my little abomination," said Jadis the following morning as they leave the castle.
Namine tilts her head. "I am gracious."
There is a chariot with big white bears waiting for them, a number of Jadis's troops ambling about, watching and waiting.
"I wasn't planning on this so soon, but you've impressed me greatly this last week," said Jadis, stopping at the cart and withdrawing her wand...
No.
That's not her wand.
That's a different one?
Where Jadis's wand had been long and white with a black handle, this one is shorter and translucent, the handle white.
"Take it," said Jadis, her voice rising, "They call me the White Witch, foolishly as an insult, but I dare say it is a strength. In my home-world, white was the color of death and mourning, so in calling me that, they herald me as the Death Witch. Its flattering, but I think the title is to be passed on now, to my apprentice, the newest White Witch."
Her voice has escalated for the last part, and those around them cheer her on, shouts of 'White Witch' 'White Witch' echoing through the cold castle. It makes Namine feel sick and wretched. She doesn't want it, she hates it, but she reaches for the wand all the same and takes it. She also considers just what Jadis has done by openly declaring her an apprentice, giving her a title. Mr Beaver had explained some of the Deep Magic and laws to her. There was a risk, and a gamble with what she was doing before, but now, having a real rank and position gives a grounding for what she is to do. Rebelling as a nameless entity within Jadis's forces, an unwilling servant, is one thing, something others might have trouble believing in and accepting. For intent and belief matters a great deal in Deep Magic.
Rebelling as Jadis's so called apprentice however, is something else entirely. It gives her legitimacy.
Even if she hates being called that.
Aqua is her Master.
Namine is her apprentice.
No one else.
How dare she...
The hate swells for a moment, and Namine struggles not to use the wand on Jadis right then and there. And use it she knows she could. She feels strength in the wand, she can feel a... a springiness to her power while she's holding it. It feels like it would be easier to direct and funnel her power. It calls to her magic, her power of memory, and to the darkness she feels underneath her skin. She does not want this wand and what it represents, but she finds it ironically poetic. Jadis intends for her to use it to cause great harm, to help her defeat Aslan and secure her false-rule over Narnia.
Namine is going to do quite the opposite.
The ride is long and trying.
Namine was right in what she felt, the wand is a magic amplifier. She doesn't even want to consciously do so, but she ends up accidentally inside others memories during the travel. Mr Beaver was somewhat right. There are plenty here, even with just a ghostly touch and perusal, that she sees don't truly wish to serve. Who are afraid and coerced into service. But there are plenty more still who serve willingly. Who either don't care one way or another, believe in Jadis, or delight in cruelty. She doesn't act on it, but she really has a hard time believing she'd care if most of them died.
Everything hurts.
Surrounded by so much evil, so much malice, and right next to Jadis, Namine feels herself slipping. She focuses everything she has on the promise to Mr Beaver. On her desire to help, not harm. Righteousness, not revenge. It feels so weak though. She feels so weak...
So she reaches out to General Otim, and forces herself to do what she promised, even if she hates this monster. She puts a glaze over his mind and starts stitching his memories back together. She restores his family, having him relive the last time he spent with his son, some of the earlier memories of holding the newborn years ago. Time with his wife. Gatherings around a campfire with his clan. She sets him on a loop of such memories and... and lets herself sink into them.
Its hard, to hold back a shudder. How can any good exist in this kind of evil? The beast-man loves his wife, cherishes his children, and is greatly prideful of his clan. Perhaps he is a good father, husband, and clanmember. Yet he readily causes so much harm to others. She doesn't... she doesn't understand. It doesn't mean however that she's not going to use these memories to try to keep herself steady.
They break for the night, and in the morning...
Is it her, or is the snow... melting?
"My lady!" comes a wolf, rushing in, "Scouts have reported that the traitors are responding to our marshaling of forces, they gather at Beruna!"
Jadis laughs. "Do they? Good, good, we won't have to waste time hunting so many of them down then."
The wolf hesitates. "There's... there are rumors spreading through the town there, that Aslan was sighted yesterday."
Jadis sneers haughtily. "Has he? Good, we've forced him out of hiding at long last."
From her position on the chariot, Namine see's Jadis's hidden hands tremble. She's afraid, actually afraid. Did she not really expect Aslan to be there? Is she just nervous? Namine doesn't know, but if it makes Jadis unbalanced, she doesn't particularly care what is going through the Witch's mind. Jadis garbs herself in battle gear, but doesn't spare anything for Namine except the following words:
"Destroy Aslan when he appears, then hide, I have no use for you in an actual battlefield. If you flee while I finish this foolish resistance, I will hunt you down and you will regret it"
By the time they reach the plains and hillside outside Beruna, the field's snow is partially melted, fully on one side, only somewhat on theirs. Off in the distance she sees a gathering of various Narnians, readying themselves for a fight. The march closer and closer, she sees the opposing force ready themselves, front-lines arranging, lances pointed outwards, archers on the hillside. They don't race out to meet them, a defensive formation then. Trumpets sound and Jadis's forces roar loudly, making Namine wince. They stop a ways away, and Jadis's chariot goes forth alone. Namine doesn't like the attention forced on her by proxy. So many hateful eyes...
"Where is the lion!" shouts Jadis mockingly, "Where is your great savior? Has he abandoned you in your most dire time? Kneel! Kneel and beg forgiveness and perhaps you may be spared..."
Jadis's forces howl and roar and yell, rattling their weapons in a show of force...
Then a tremendously load roar sounds in return, echoing across the plains and silencing everyone. Jadis goes rigid, and Namine follows her gaze to see a great lion standing upon the highest hill, looking down at them, sunlight shining behind him. It can only be Aslan. He bounds down, and those faithful to him part like a wave, letting him stride forth. Alone. Jadis considers it, then a sly smile spreads. She cracks her reigns, and the chariot stops. She dismounts and beckons Namine to follow.
"Be ready. He foolishly approaches in the manner of parley when neither of us has sent someone to announce or negotiate it. Aslan is not to return to his forces alive."
Namine swallows, but obeys. The leaders of both side approach one another, Jadis and Aslan, marching eachother down, until they stop a ways from one another. This close, and Namine feels him. Feels the pressure, the sheer power, that he gives off, and is honestly terrified. Aslan so badly outclasses the Witch. Namine isn't certain, that even IF she had wanted to strike at him, that she could have done anything.
"I'm surprised," mocked Jadis, "After abandoning your people for near a hundred years, you finally show your face. Its a wonder no one invoked..."
"Do not," growled Aslan, "Recite the Deep Magic to me, Witch, and what should or should not be done with it."
Jadis tenses. "I am the Queen of Narnia, I shall recite what I deem necessary."
"You are the Emperor's Hangmen, no more, no less, and even that is a role poorly done," countered Aslan.
Jadis bares her teeth.
He bares his own back.
His is far more impressive.
"Why have you come here, Jadis?" demanded Aslan, "You've seen fit to sit on your false throne for so long, and yet now you seek to march and destroy what is left of free Narnia?"
"Because now, I have your end in the palm of my hand," said Jadis, straightening her back and smiling menacingly at Aslan, "You should not have returned."
"I will always return when my people truly need me," said Aslan, "And you have grown arrogant indeed if you think to best me."
"Me? Oh no, I won't be the one to kill you," said Jadis, grabbing Namine's shoulder and shoving her forward, "My little abomination, dispose of him."
Namine staggers a bit and falls to her knees, wincing, hand clutching her wand tightly. She looks up at Aslan, and feels so... utterly... small.
"Truly Jadis?" growls Aslan with so much contempt in his voice Namine shivers, "You shove a child between you and I and demand that she fight in your stead? Is there no low you will not sink to?"
The lion doesn't even look at her.
Namine wonders briefly if he is just as arrogant as Jadis.
Or is rightly confident.
She doesn't care either way. He is not her enemy. But she doesn't want him to attack if she does a sudden move. So she cautiously, pressing her intent to -not harm-, and reaches for his mind, bringing up her memory of...
It feels like someone grabbed her tightly in a mighty burning grip and forces her attempt still, tightening.
If Namine could laugh through the pain, she would.
Jadis was doomed to failure no matter what.
Namine didn't have a prayer against Aslan.
She presses the memory of her pact with Mr Beaver forward against the grip, and there is a pause to the tightening, the feeling of eyes washing over her. Aslan's mighty presence grips the memory and takes it from her, sampling it...
The fierce pride and care Aslan feels for Mr Beaver takes her breath away. He returns the memory to her with a comment and order. 'Beaver has more than earned his place in my country. Do what you came here to do, child.'
Aslan sits down, resting his chin on his paws, huffing.
"You... YOU DARE MOCK ME?!" shrieks Jadis.
Namine pushes herself to her feet, turns, raises her voice as loud as she can, and shouts. "Jadis, the Emperor's Hangman, I declare you a false queen! A traitor to Narnia itself!"
Jadis startles. "What?"
Namine continues. "I declare you unfit for your role and purpose, unfit to lead, and with the Deep Magic as my witness, I declare rebellion against your tyranny!"
Jadis stares at her, stunned.
Namine raises her wand.
Jadis recovers, goes for her own, raising it.
Namine strikes first.
She strikes last.
Jadis falls to the ground, every single chain of memory she had, shattered into pieces.
There is a stunned silence all around.
"Cover your ears child," ordered Aslan, rising to her feet.
She does.
He ROARS.
Jadis's forces turn tall and flee. In their wake, the snow is melting rapidly, Jadis's hold over her magic gone.
Namine falls to her knees, shuddering, arms wrapped around herself. "Its... its over..."
Aslan walks over to Jadis, staring down at her contemplatively. "I suppose it is."
He turns and looks at her, gaze hardening. "I must go and rescue those the Witch had held prisoner. You will be taken into custody and will remain there until I return to decide your fate. Mr Beaver made a pact with you, but it was one he did made in ignorance. I can sense that you are not of this world, you had no right to be here and interfere in its destiny, a destiny you have potentially thrown into jeopardy by forcing this confrontation early. Four were to come and stand against the witch, proving themselves worthy of becoming the Kings and Queens of Narnia. You have taken this from them, and even I cannot foresee how this will change things, whether it be for better or for worse."
Namine swallows thickly, tears in her eyes. "I never wanted this. I never asked for this."
Aslan's hard gaze does not change. "If I did not believe that myself, I would not stay my hand for this moment."
A few centaurs come, and she is led away...
By midday the following day, Aslan returns leading a tide of unfrozen freed prisoners, Mr Beaver there walking at his side. Namine watches from the entrance of her tent that two centaur stand guard at. They stop a ways away, Mr Beaver arguing quietly but steadily with Aslan about something. Most likely her. The rest join with those currently there, happily reunited. Far to many however, give her a angry glare, or a terrified look. She... she never wanted people to look at her that way...
She returns to the innards of the tent and sits down, bringing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.
Aslan enters some time later. "Namine."
She swallows and looks up, voice dry. "Aslan."
He stares at her for a long moment. Slowly, he sits down, resting his chin on his paws. "In successfully rebelling against Jadis, you currently hold her position as the Emperor's Hangman. As such, you have two choices. You may take her place and bind yourself to this world, becoming an inhabitant of Narnia, or you will give up that role and be exiled from Narnia, never to return. For you interfered where you were not meant to, even if you were forced to against your own will. You committed terrible violations of the mind, even if they were at the behest of your tormentor, even if you undid them after, it does not change what you did."
"I never wanted this," she repeats from yesterday, voice filled with sorrow and regret, "I... I just want to go home."
"With the Deep Magic as your witness, you willingly give up the right to all traitors and all that would follow you?" he confirms.
"I do," she confirms.
He nods, a heaviness briefly filling the air before it dissipates. "It is done."
He sighs. "I am not needlessly cruel. I will not cast you out to a random world. What world is your home? I shall return you to it."
She swallows, considering. She could go back to Radiant Garden, spend time with her family, try to bury this... but... the Keybearers have to be worried. She has a duty to them to go back. "The Land of Departure."
Aslan goes still. "A Keybearer, you're a..."
He cuts himself off and stares at her, tilting his head. "So that is what I felt. The power within you has yet to awaken. Have you only just begun your journey?"
"I've had lessons for only a week before I was abducted."
Aslan sighs again. "Very well, I will return you to Master Eraqus."
Namine startles. "You... you know him?"
"I am aware of the Order of Keyblade Masters," explains Aslan, rising to his feet, "We have a loose agreement that I will watch over my dominion, and that they will not expend their efforts here. Come."
"Can... can I say goodbye to Mr Beaver?" she asks quietly.
"Quickly," he agrees as they exit the tent.
The hug is brief and crushing. "You take care of yourself Namine, you here? This trial hurt you, take the time you need to patch yourself together."
"I... I'll try," she promises, "And... and you take care of yourself to. I'm... I'm so sorry about what you had to go through, tell... tell Mrs Beaver that I'm sorry to her as well."
Mr Beaver huffed. "I'm going to refrain from telling her I thought that blasted Witch was her for a time. I'm not going to do that to her poor heart."
Namine nods. "I'm still sorry all the same."
"I know dearie, I know."
"Namine."
She turns around and sees Aslan pawing the wand Jadis gave to her, rolling it over to her. "I believe this is yours, White Witch."
Namine flinches. "I... I don't want either that or the title. I refuse to be what she tried to make me."
"Then don't be," agrees Aslan, "But that title is yours even if you are not the Emperor's Hangman."
"So what, I'm a death witch?" she asks bitterly.
"White meant death in her world's culture, in some it is a cold color, it can mean unhappiness and misfourtune," agreed Aslan, "But in others, it means innocence. Purity. Peace. Trust."
"I've never known that color to mean anything but pain," said Namine hoarsely, "And there is nothing innocent about this terrible power I have."
"Your power and role is what you make of it, Namine," said Aslan, "You can let it drag you down, or you can claim it and make it yours. Be the White Witch of your own making, in spite of Jadis and those like her. Use your power and that wand to do good, in opposite of everything they desired."
Namine swallows and answers honestly. "I don't know how."
How could her power over memory be used for good?
"You'll learn," Aslan answers.
Namine takes in a shaky breath, but picks up the wand.
"I will be going with you briefly to speak with Eraqus, but afterwards, your exile is in effect, and I never expect to see you in this world again," he said, voice warning and filled with promise. It goes without saying that her punishment wouldn't be exile a second time.
Aslan turns, and glows with light. Power emanating from him, earning a gasp from Namine. He gives a roar that makes her wince, and... and a Door of Light appears. She gapes at it, before recovers when his head tilts and he motions her through. She gives one last look at Mr Beaver, who offers her a soft, sad smile, before she leaves through the portal, Aslan walking at her side...