a/n: This was just written for fun. It started out as a parody of Narnia and kind of of my life, lol. I think it may be becoming something though. And, for the record it is not a Mary Sue. (We hates them with a passion!) The only similarity between me and Elizabeth now are that I really do work at a coffee/gelato shop in Jersey. But, without further ado, on with the craziness!

Elizabeth was a normal girl. . . Well, kind of. She led a pretty simple life, consisting of just a few close friends and family. She had what some might call a quiet life filled with, instead of parties and "risk taking", books and work and other boring things.
She didn't like to take chances or do things that might be at all perilous in the end, you see. Plain and simple, that's how she liked it. Did I mention she liked to read? Well, she did. In fact, it was one of her favorite pass times. Ironically enough, she fancied books of adventure, action, or fantasy to anything else. Sometimes, thinking about such things would inspire Elizabeth to be more brave, to be courageous and act on pure impulse, making exciting and spur of the moment decisions, to have an adventure of her own. . . But then she would remember the pain and possible death factors of adventure and suddenly become once more contented with her simple and boring life.
You see, when I say Elizabeth is kind of normal, it's because she wasn't exactly what most commonly was believed to be "normal" where she lived. Elizabeth lived in a small town in New Jersey. (Wouldn't have guest it, would you?) This small town was a nice mix of ghetto neighborhoods and the snobby, rich folk who sometimes ventured over. Elizabeth happened to work at a little coffee shop right on the corner of "down town" -A little street of fancy restaurants and shops situated right smack in the middle of the most ghetto neighborhoods, nice enough to attract the attention of some of the rich snobby people from the next town over.
Being at the end of the street and the beginning of the slightly less ghetto, but yet still ghetto neighborhoods, the shop Elizabeth had chosen to work for was usually more quiet. But perhaps that's why she liked it so much.
Nearing the end of her senior year at Cumberly High, Elizabeth would walk to work everyday after another normal day at school, offer her hello's and goodbye's to the middle aged, Hispanic woman that worked before her, and then her job was to make and serve people their coffee and gelatos. Yes, that was this shop's specialties- coffee, lattes, and Italian ice cream. The first of these being an essential for most people, and the last being, well. . . unexpected, it was enough to attract the attention of at least a few curious people who would ventured just occasionally enough to keep the place in business.
Elizabeth usually didn't have to worry about many of these venturing people for a good hour or so on her shift, which gave her enough time to finish her homework and then, as she would say, "catch up on her reading." (Although, believe me, she never really had any "catching up" to do in the book department)
Today she sat intrigued (perhaps a little too much) by Moby Dick. The adventure was high, the sea air was blowing, they were so close to catching that whale, and then. . . ring-a-jingle-jingle. Elizabeth had always hated the sound of those bells on the front door. Reluctantly she set her book face down on the counter, opened to the page she had stopped reading.
"Can I help you?" Elizabeth responded automatically, before even looking up.
But when she did look up, she found not the one or perhaps two people she had been expecting, but an entire mob of caffeine deprived people still ushering themselves through the door. Elizabeth gulped. She could see this was going to be one of the three days out of the year that people actually noticed the shop. It was going to be a long night. . . .

"Next, please!" Elizabeth called over the crowd, slinging a tray of cappuccinos frantically in the direction of the awaiting hands. Eight different people chorused all at once in a jumble of orders, each claiming they were first. An argument broke out over who was guilty of cutting in line.
"Hey, you got my order wrong!" proclaimed another angry customer.
Elizabeth grimaced. Didn't they know she was only one person?
After awhile she caught an "Excuse me," from a voice off to her right, seeming slightly irritated as though they repeated themselves for more than the first time. They spoke with a funny accent. Elizabeth sighed inwardly. She was used to funny accent, living in such a particularly diverse spot, but this isn't what annoyed her. After all she had already put up with tonight, someone had been rude enough to walk behind the counter to get her attention. She hated when people did that. Didn't people have any manners anymore?
Elizabeth turned, prepared to reproach the fiend; but then, paused with a rather puzzled expression. There was no one there. The voice cleared its throat.
"Um. . . Down here."
Elizabeth looked down and, if it was at all possible, gave an even further puzzled expression. She then began to turn a little- well, freaked out to say the least- for she met eyes with a little red fox that stood patiently at the end of the counter. Elizabeth found herself once more confused. The only wildlife in this part of town were stray dogs and cats. How did a fox get in her store? And, more importantly, why was it looking at her like that?
'Do foxes eat people?' she wondered shakily.
Then the fox did something strange. It motioned with one of its paws for her to come nearer. Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. She had never seen a fox do that before. When she didn't respond to its motioning, it repeated it.
"Over here," it whispered as though trying not to be heard.
Elizabeth blinked. Did that fox just talk to her? She glanced around. No one else seemed to notice it. A few impatient customers waited still for Elizabeth's attention.
The fox stood patiently. It didn't seem she was going to get rid of it until she listened to it. (Unless she wanted to cause a scene and scare the customers away, which is the type of thing that's usually discouraged by employers.)
"You've gotta cut back on those fantasy books," she sighed to herself.
"Excuse me?" bellowed an impatient New Yorker man from the other side of the counter. "Can we get some help over here, or what?"
Elizabeth held up one finger.
"Just a sec," she said then ducking behind the counter.
"I can't believe I'm about to talk to a fox," she mumbled to herself. "I could get fired for this sort of thing. . . Or committed!"
"Excuse me," said the fox once more, "but whenever you're done talking to yourself, if I could share a word."
Elizabeth turned, hoping when she looked up the fox would be gone. But, sure enough, there it stood- big ears, bushy tail, long snout and all. Elizabeth crawled just a step closer, not because she felt need to be closer to the creature, but because she now sat just below a pot of fresh, steaming coffee (just in case the need arose to use it as a weapon).
"What do you want?" said Elizabeth, now thoroughly freaked out.
"If I may," said the fox, giving her a small bow. "My name is Farren, of the Western Wood in the land of Narnia. I don't mean to alarm you, but we Narnians are in great need of your help- Er. . . On a matter which may take a bit of explaining. . . I was sent to find a Son of Adam or a Daughter of Eve.-" The fox paused and looked around at the crowd. "Could we- perhaps, go some place a bit more private?"
"What!" Elizabeth glanced at the coffee pot.
"Oh, no, no, no!" said the fox quickly. "I don't mean you any harm. It's just- we discuss rather private matters. . . Desperate ears and all that."
He said this as though Elizabeth was meant to understand; but to her, he mine as well have been speaking German. She gave a truly exasperated stare.
"Look," she said, her voice trembling in attempt to contain just how freaked out she truly was; "I don't know what it's like where come from; but here, the foxes don't ask to 'have a word' in fact, they really don't say anything and, come to think of it, there aren't even any foxes!"
The fox seemed stunned.
"And, furthermore, anytime any stranger wants to talk to you alone, it's usually because there's a gang or mob of some sort waiting to beat you up and take your money, and I really don't have the patience for that right now!"
"I would have no use for your money in Narnia," said the fox, shaking his head, seeming to take some amusement. "And, besides, if I did really want your money, I could think of a far better way of taking it without your even knowing. I am, after all, a fox you know."
"That's a good point," Elizabeth admitted, a bit more angrily than she had intended.
She was about to try and counter it, but her voice trailed. A part of her was actually considering wanting to believe the fox. Adventures from some of her books began to return to her mind, and thoughts once more of an adventure of her own.
"But why would you want my help?" she said uncomprehendingly.
"Well, you see," said the fox solemnly; "it just so happens that Narnia- a land of peace- is on the brink of a war. It's only common knowledge that whenever Narnia is in trouble, a Son of Adam or a Daughter of Eve is summoned to help us. But, for some reason, this time no help has come. There was a door found though, that opened from our world to yours. Narnians have never before been able to enter into your world. But then that's part of it that I shouldn't talk of in the open. None the less, after debating the purpose of the opening for some time, it was agreed that one must be sent to find help, and I was chosen. I came here to find one who could help Narnia overcome this evil and be a free land once again."
Elizabeth offered her blank stare once more.
". . .In a coffee shop?" she said, baffled.
"No," said the fox. "In your world. And I found you."
Elizabeth was starting to reconsider once more. All this talk of wars and evil was beginning to creep her out.
"Daughter of Eve," came the fox, "will you help us?"
'Ah, crap,' thought Elizabeth.
She was always a sucker for pleading eyes. She pursed her lips to one side.
'Well, I guess I can at least humor him,' she thought. 'I don't necessarily have to do anything, but I could at least listen to what he has to say.'
"Alright," she agreed after a thought. "Alright, I'll hear what you have to say."
The fox gave a smile. "Narnia thanks you," he said greatfully.
"Yeah, I'm sure," muttered Elizabeth. "Now where do you suggest as a 'private' enough place to talk?"
Farren scanned the small shop.
"Are there any other rooms to this?"
"Just the kitchen," shrugged Elizabeth.
"Perfect," said the fox.
And with that he scurried off towards the back of the shop, passing through completely unnoticed as foxes have a way of doing.
Elizabeth sighed and climbed to her feet , met with the reminder of the angry customers who still awaited (not so patiently) to be served.
"Hey, can I have my coffee now?" chimed one of them irritably, then join by all the other complaints at once in an uproar of commotion.
"Um, yes, I know," said Elizabeth over the crowd, holding up both hands. "I know, you've all been very patient. Thanks a bunch, but, um. . . Uh. . ." She looked around momentarily, searching for an excuse. "But it seems that we are out of coffee," she said clasping her hands together.
This proclamation was followed by a chorus of groans.
"However," said Elizabeth loud enough to return their attention, "I'll just go to the back and, uhm, get some more."
"Hey, there's a full pot of coffee right there," said the angry New Yorker man.
Elizabeth looked behind her.
"Uh. . . Oh, that. . . That is- um, very, very, old. You wouldn't want it anyway- Be right back!"
She turned before they had chance to say anything else. A roar of angry complaints rose behind her as she opened the door to the kitchen. Farren, who had hidden himself behind a potted plant, scurried in first. Elizabeth turned with a last look at the beloved coffee shop that had become her home away from home.
"If I die," she sighed, "you've been a really great gelato and coffee shop."
After this she turned and entered the kitchen, flipping the light switch and closing the door behind her.
"What took you so long?" said Farren, sitting himself regally atop an empty crate. "Get a bit lost, eh?"
"You try explaining to a mob of manner-less, angry people that you won't give them caffeine because you're too busy talking to a fox," said Elizabeth a bit indignantly.
"Well, you try sneaking through a crowded room without anyone noticing you're a fox and having your tail stepped on by some tall woman in heels," returned the fox.
Elizabeth shook her head.
"Well, what did you want to say, anyway?" she said then.
"Oh, yes," said the fox remembering. "Well, as I mentioned earlier, the land of Narnia is on the brink of a war."
"Yes, you mentioned that," said Elizabeth, finding it rather hard to forget the mentioning of a war."
"Yes, well, it just so happens that we are about to go to war with a very powerful witch. There is little chance of our victory in such a war unless Aslan himself shows up. I am sure you are familiar with many of the other worlds? Uhldor, Malacandra, and all that?"
"Uhh, sure," said Elizabeth, not really wanting him to explain all that just yet.
"Well, then I'll assume you also know of a door that will occasionally open from one world to the next. Usually, this only happens when one world is in need of aid and the door is opened by Aslan himself. But now there are doors opening up in worlds all over the place; and they're all of them staying open, without any apparent purpose. They're opening in very strange places- For instance, it has never been recorded for a Narnian to enter your world- at least not for hundreds of thousands of years!"
"Well, what's so bad about that?" said Elizabeth. "You can see other worlds whenever you want."
"What's so bad about it is that some of these worlds are not exactly the sort of places you would want to visit and certainly not inhabited by the sort of people you would want visiting you," explained Farren. "The worst of all these is Arrodris, queen of Uldhor. She's always been blinded by her desire for power. Aslan exiled her long ago to her world alone, and she's done well enough in destroying it. She searches for a new world and now she has a door to many- Narnia being the greatest of them. If she makes herself queen of our world, she shall make us all her slaves! The strongest will be used to help build her kingdom and all shall be treated with cruelty to instill fear towards her. That is how she works."
"How awful," Elizabeth found herself saying.
"Yes," Farren nodded solemnly.
"Well, what is there to be done if you say she is too powerful to be overcome?" said Elizabeth.
"That is where you come in," Farren replied. "They say that these doors that are opening are actually tunnels- holes, if you will, all throughout the universe. Slowly, everything is being torn apart at it's seams. Even your own world will fall if nothing is done."
This thought scared Elizabeth more than anything she'd heard so far today.
"But, why?" said Elizabeth. "Why would this just happen now? Without warning?"
"It began with but a small part that ended in disorder," said Farren. "A fate that was meant to be fulfilled that has yet to be so. One that was not meant to leave our own world, was taken to another place."
Elizabeth furrowed her brow with perplexed eyes.
"You are the one who was taken," said Farren.
Elizabeth shook her head, as though to make sure she hadn't imagined the past few moments.
"What?"
"I know it all sounds like madness to you," said the fox. "But there was a child- a princess, next to be queen, nearly two-hundred years ago-"
"-Wait? Two-hundred years?" said Elizabeth, almost laughing with disbelief. "Well, that settles it all right there: I wasn't even alive two-hundred years ago; I'm not even eighteen. So I can't be the one you're looking for."
Farren gave a wearied sigh.
"Look, I know it's an awful lot to explain," he said plainly. "That's the way it works with different worlds- each has its own time. A single day in your world might be ten years in Narnia. By the time I get back, I'll have been gone for at least months- possibly years- and I haven't been here for half an hour. . . I thought you said you knew all this."
"I lied!" said Elizabeth exasperatedly.
"Well, now you know," said Farren.
Elizabeth's expression turned a bit grave as she tried to take it all in. She looked at the fox, thinking more each second that maybe she wasn't imagining all this after all.
"Look," said Farren, "I can't force you to believe anything. All I have is my word. And at the moment, more Narnian days are slipping past and I'd best return. . . I hope you will return with me, but the choice is yours. . . You can come with me, and I'll explain all the details best I can. . . Or you can go back in there." He nodded towards the door. "But, know this. . . Where I come from, it is considered one of the greatest honors to give graciously of yourself for the well being of others. Chances such as this one don't come along everyday- not only for you to help undo what evil has been done, but to find the truth about who you really are."
Elizabeth gave a sigh through her nose, uncertain of what to do.
"So this is all for real, huh?" she said, not realizing she spoke it aloud.
"Real as day," said the fox.
Elizabeth bit her lower lip as she had a habit of doing when she was thinking or nervous about something.
"How do I get there?" she said at last.
A smile spread across Farren's lips.
"Right this way, my lady," he said jumping down from the crate.

Well, there ya have it: Chappy number one. A lot of stuff is probably going to change because I haven't finished editing it yet, but I just wanted to get the darn thing up here already. I know a witch for a villain might seem a little cliche, but using a dude of some kind didn't seem very...Narnia-ish. Ah well, it's just for fun anyway and, like I said, a lot of stuff's bound to change.