Lost in Narnia
Notes: I don't know if there even is a Rodin, because I have not read the books or seen the movie. This is simply what I imagine. This story also has two endings!
Prologue
The tiny girl dashed through the first snow and joyfully squealed from time to time. Her bare feet did not feel the cold, her bony body was only clad with something that looked more like a rag than a dress. But she did not feel anything.
Her skin was of a very pale blue colour, and her eyes were nearly black, her hair was pale blue, too. She was surrounded by cascading fluctuations of light and shadow, colourful and mesmerizing. It was as if one could see right through her but when they really did try to see through her, they saw things that they did not want to see. Things that were and things that had not come to pass. She knew the past, the present and the future, they would think. But she did not only not know any of those things nor did she care.
She had come to Narnia before the great winter and had disappeared after it had ended and summer and spring came back to the worlds, but she did not want to hide anymore. Now it was time to come out of her hideaway and live again.
She seemed to be only 10 years of age, but when one had a closer look at her face and into her black eyes they wondered how old she really was.
But after all, she had been here, here in Narnia, for a long time. It was such a long time that no one around could remember it, not even Alina herself. Alina, that was her name, although she had not used it in many years. Nor did others ever call her by her name. To everyone she met, to every living thing that passed her way she was just the little girl, the ever joyful little girl.
She did not care for earthly values, to her nothing was important and nothing was worth nothing. It was not that she did not care for anything, because she did care for everything, but it was just the way it was and would change when needed. It had always been that way and it would stay that way until it changed. Change was everywhere, change was constant, probably the only constant thing in her life. She was special, that she knew, very special. She once came from the forest where the Winding Arrow River but she did not remember how she got there. Maybe she was only the product of someone's fantasy, but maybe she was real, real as anything else here in the wide lands of Narnia.
But maybe she had come from a place as different as can be. She did not know, maybe she was lost. But it did not bother her, it did not change her way