The Beast Must Die: Chapter 2
Instinctively Varco set his paws against the wood and pushed. nothing. The panic in his chest seemed to drain him. He had no adrenaline rush, no extra boost of heroic strength, and even his well hewn warrior's muscles now failed him. With one last heave, he relaxed his arms and set them down at his side in what little space he had.
Thoughts began to flash back to him. As if his mind was shorting out, and memory was returning to him in bursts...there had been a battle...clashing and armor and swords and blood...so much blood. But He'd been there. He'd had time to see the Great Beast Himself...
wait...the Beast was Dead! She'd killed him! but no, he was there just the same...on the battlefield slashing through so many of his comrades...If not for that infernal child with his sword catching me off guard I'd have killed him myself! Curse the Lion! Curse Him! I want his blood! Blood for Blood! I WILL HAVE MY VEANGENCE! Now he felt true power surging through him. Just as fear paralyzed him, now his hate consumed him, empowered him. A deep purplish red glow blazed in his eyes. Dark light throbbed in his chest as he set his claws deep into the coffin lid.
"Aslan...Aslan..." he muttered under his breath as he tore at his wooden prison. now the boards began to give way, cracking and shifting. Each shift sent dirt into his box, falling on his face, into his eyes, up his flaring nostrils. Varco didn't care. The warrior strength for which he'd become famous now mixed with something far more powerful than he'd ever felt before...pure power surged through his veins into his arms and claws. soon the planks nailed over his head were reduced to splinters and dirt began pouring down on him. Smothered in black earth, Varco now began clawing upward. Dirt slowly became mud as he neared the surface, still he clawed and cursed and growled.
"curse the Lion! I want Him!" his claws slashed the roots of grass, and with one more powerful push, Varco's arm shot through the sod into open air. The rest of him followed, and soon he was left panting on the soft Narnian sod. The sod was wet, and rain poured down from a starless night sky. He recognized the field instantly; this was where The Lion had been...and Her Majesty as well! More memories filled his head, dancing and swimming confused and disconnected, but still vivid and raw from their fresh nature. The Queen had promised him vengeance. He fought with her for just a chance to find the Lion again. And she'd delivered on her promise. He was there when they tied the ropes on the stone table. He'd held the hair down while they shaved him. He saw Aslan's blood run till he whimpered no more...but what then? Then who was it he saw on the field? "
How had Aslan done it? How was it still alive? Moreover, what was I doing in a coffin? Where am I?"
As if to answer his confused muddled questions a flash of lightning illuminated the field. In the sharp white flash he saw the now familiar carnage of battle. He saw comrades, friends, broken and cold. and he saw a stone.
Not just any stone, this was standing upright in the middle of the field. Pulling himself up, Varco got to his feet and stumbled toward the large smooth rock. The wet soggy ground proved treacherous, and soon he tripped headlong back into the black wet muck. Back up with a growl, he snatched up a spear from a nearby corpse, and, picking his way along more carefully, he again made his way towards the stone. Perhaps he was too confused to notice at first, but now he suddenly realized he could see almost perfectly despite the lack of stars or moonlight. He also noted as he stumbled along drunkenly that he was able to see the grains in the wood of his coffin while in total darkness...but surely not...only wolves and night creatures could see in the dark, not mere Racomines...it was a sobering realization.
His wonderings were interrupted by his arrival at the stone. Through the driving rain he discerned an inscription, in pitch black, he read aloud to himself:
HERE ON THIS FIELD WAS THE WHITE WITCH SLAIN. HERE ON THIS FIELD WAS THE VALOR OF THE FOUR HUMANS ALSO TESTED. LONG LIVE ASLAN AND THEIR MAJESTIES QUEENS SUSAN AND LUCY, KINGS EDMUND AND PETER.
"So, the Beast got my Queen. Blood for blood, she slays him, he slays her. I will have justice as well. My comrades are dead because of you. My people are dead because of you! Mommy's dead because of you! Curse you Lion! Curse you Aslan! Hide in Cair Paravel! Hide in the four corners of Narnia! I will find you! I will have my vengeance!"
By now his eyes were blazing again, and the deep dark purplish red glow now shown under his tattered and soiled chain mail. His heart began to throb again, and the glow grew more and more intense with each beat, slowly spreading through his body, filling him with an unearthy power. Raising his fist with a warrior's scream he buried his claws into the stone inscription. The stone gave like warm butter, and when the rocks had settled and the scream's echoes had died away, two smaller broken monuments now stood where the one had been.
Feeling now a rush of purpose mingled with pain, he turned his eyes toward Cair Paravel, set along the distance in the rainy horizon. A flash illuminated the field again as Varco slowly rose to his full height, still glaring at the faraway castle. "I don't know how I came back, but now here's one enemy you overlooked, Beast" Varco spat through clenched teeth. And with every mention of that abominable name, the blood red glow burned ever brighter. Varco didn't question the glow or the power it gave him...he simply fed it with his hate, and drew on its power to begin his journey to Cair Paravel.