A/N: I'm not even going to apologize being late, again, with updating this story, you know the drill. If it's any comfort, I now have lots of time to write! I only hope I will be able to make it right by finishing this story before next year. So, this is part I! Stay tuned for more!

Soundtracks

Farewell – Runfell

Brenna – Runfell

Rating this chapter M for graphical reasons!

Hope you enjoy x


Dawn had just to rise when hooves padded across the forest floor, the sound soft in the silent woods. A sturdy Dartmoor pony carried Professor Cornelius through the darkness, and the half-dwarf clad in a dark purple hooded, woollen cloak looked left and right behind him as the steed took him forth through the trees.

After riding half the night, the Professor was glad to finally see the formation of oak trees and steep hills that the polar bear Voytek had told him about. The hills of stone and mud were a formation of caves, but the mouths of the different caves riddled with dead ferns and grass did not look inviting.

Especially not since the bodies of different beasts and bone-men scattered the muddy ground, where weather and wind had made the bodies decompose.

The horse spooked at the stench of death and decay in the crisp air. Cornelius hushed the pony and scrambled off his back to lead the horse forth through the battlefield.

Walking to the nearest cave mouth, Cornelius bent his head down to see into the darkness of the cave: silent as the grave.

The pony spooked once again, this time at the view of a slaughtered grey fox and her cubs. Rotten corpses of bone-men lay about the ground outside the cave, their horrendous jaws agape. One had different shades of grey fur between his teeth.

Cornelius walked on, his horse close behind. The wind had started to pick up past the hills, and the elderly man's hood fluttered in the whistling wind. Shivering, Professor Cornelius investigated the settlement of Narnian predators cave by cave until he found the right one.

The cave was lodged between the trunks of ancient oak trees, rotten ferns and ivy chains.

Just outside the mouth of the cave lay a grand polar bear, her fur bristled in the wind and darkened with mud and blood.

The old man had to stride over several bodies of bone-men until he could reach the corpse with white fur.

Walking around to see the polar bear properly, Cornelius could only assume this had been Voytek's mate, for between her front paws lay the corpse of a runt cub, so small and serene in his eternal slumber by his mother who had defended him until the very end. Behind her lay another cub, bigger than the one between his mother's paws. A crow was sat on the snout of the cub. Cornelius walked over to it.

The crow busied himself with pecking the cub's eyes out of its skull, scavenging whatever the lone crow could from the slaughter that had taken place.

Startled at the elder man's appearance, the crow cawed at the half-dwarf and bristled his feathers, before Cornelius shooed him off.

Continuing his search, he gingerly walked past the body, and prepared to enter the cave. Pushing aside vines of ivy and ferns, he soon realized it was much too dark for him to see, and he fumbled around in the pouch hanging from his belt. Finding what he was looking for, he shook a small vial of white fluid, opened the flask, and the fluid soon became luminescent, lightening up the cave in a wonderful light. Carrying the vial, the old Professor scanned the cave;

The cave looked like any bear-cave would, he supposed. Bones from different species lay scattered about the floor, with the cadaver of a deer laying nearby the entrance. It reeked, and flies, larvae and other critters feasted on the carcass. Cornelius grimaced at the smell and continued inside. Despite stepping on a bedding of hay, Cornelius stopped once something cracked underneath his boot. He removed his foot and looked down. He had stepped down on sheep's skull. Thankful it wasn't anything more alarming than such, he scanned the walls, the floor, until he found a small crack in the wall.

Walking over to it, he wondered how he was supposed to push through the small slit in the wall he leant his arm upon the wall in thought. As he did so, he noticed a dip in the wall. Inside the cracked slit on the stone wall, he felt the inside. It was a keyhole!

First, Cornelius damned himself for not having the key. But, he then thought back to a conversation he had made with the late Voytek:

The old man was busy bandaging the great polar bear's thigh after having cleaned a deep cut there.

"There, my friend, I think it is safe to say you will fully recover in time. For now, that leg must rest."

Voytek looked ahead as he listened to the snowstorm outside and the howling wind. A torch on the wall flickered gently, and it felt strangely comforting to have it there.

"Yes… Thank you, halfling." Professor Cornelius walked up to the bowl of water in front of the bear to wash his bloodied hands. The bear scrutinized the elder half-dwarf in silence, before deciding to talk to him in confidence, lest he missed his chance.

"I am regretful to ask another favour of you, old man, but, doing its bidding will be helpful to you and your Kings and Queens, I am sure of it."

Cornelius sat down on the floor with achy joints, encouraging the beast to continue.

"I shall help where I can. Please, go on."

A sorrowful rumble escaped the bear's chest, making the hairs on Cornelius' arms stand up. Voytek's yellow eyes met Cornelius', and he lowered his head.

"The attack… Men from the death surrounded my settlement, and I watched as companions, allies, and friends died from afar. I heard screams from my mate and my cubs whilst I was out hunting with my firstborn. I had in mind to teach him how to find food for himself that day. Once we heard the calls from our settlement, we ran back as quickly as we could, alas, by the time we arrived… We watched from the outskirts as the bone-men feasted on those I had built a home, a place to call our own with. My son rushed to his mother's aid, and I followed. I shouted for him to get behind me, but to no avail. He would stand by his mother and fight for their lives. I thought I could protect them, but it was not meant to be. They had fallen before I could manage to kill the damned creatures surrounding us. When more of them came over the hills behind us, I knew there was two options for me; I could stay and die with honour, of course... Being wounded myself, knowing this was the start of something evil, I chose different; I fled, in hopes of warning others and finding help, someone greater than myself and in power to stop the evil arriving…" Voytek began, his voice regretful over the decision he made back at the attack. Cornelius took off his binoculars and scrubbed the glass with his woolled coat.

"Did you hope to find Aslan?" he asked. The bear raised his head.

"The Great Lion himself? No. Not that night. But whispers of rumours spreads quickly in these parts, if news are not spread by beasts walking these lands, then by the very trees themselves. The news of the Kings and Queens of Old's arrival graced our ears not too long ago, as with the prophecy."

"The Golden Age Prophecy?"

"No. By fulfilling the Golden Age Prophecy, time has turned anew…"

"With one prophecy fulfilled, another one is foretold…" Cornelius mused as he scratched his beard; so, the appearance of the Pevensies had not been a coincidence after all. "How goes this prophecy?" he asked the bear as he looked at him with droopy, yet expectant, eyes.

Voytek shifted his position as he rested on the straw bedding.

"Son of Adam, Daughter of Eve shall winter end

What was once lost must be claimed

All will be right, and evil descend.

Those are the very words, whispered to us by the trees and dryads themselves," Voytek spoke, captivating Cornelius with his words, "That means, the Kings and Queens bring hope. There is a chance of stopping the darkness and winter but, not without my help."

"Well then, my friend, what would you ask of me?" Cornelius replied. Voytek hesitated.

"I lied when I told the royals that I do not know where the other fragments of Jadis' wand are located. I needed to tell someone in confidence, and you, my rescuer, I have decided is best suited for this request, wise man.

Find my settlement, find my cave, and within, you shall find the locations of the artefacts. I do not want to say too much in case you are compromised. But, there is a key needed. It is usually around my neck, but only in my home. Alva had it around her neck when I left her." Voytek explained slowly to the attentive professor.

"I see. I shall do my very best, I promise you," Cornelius said, and stood up from the straw ground.

Voytek stood up with him on unsteady legs.

"There is… One more thing I would like to ask of you, if I may…" Voytek asked in a silent tone. His ears lay flat against his skull.

"Certainly." The professor said with a nod. He straightened his binoculars.

"I… never managed to return to my mate and cubs after the attack… I... am not sure what happened to the bodies after the attack. If you would find it in your heart to do the bidding of a White-Marshal who has nothing left to fight for and give them a burial a beast of Narnia worthy?" he asked, his eyes saddened at the thought. Cornelius looked him in the eyes and gave him a reassuring nod.

"It will be done, old Voytek." The Professor replied.

Leaving the basement, Voytek watched as the little elderly man left, and hoped, prayed even to the Gods that he had not sent the kind half-dwarf to a death sentence.

Turning back, Professor Cornelius made his way outside to the body of the female polar bear and studied her upper body. It was hard to spot it, but finally, as Voytek had predicted, he could see a leatherstrap securely tied around her neck, and he moved forth to carefully step over her outstretched paw, being careful to not step on the body of the cub in the process. Digging past the once white fur, he caught the leatherstrap with his hand, and tugged. The leather band did not release, and so he had to cut it with his shiv.

Finally having it in his hand, he studied the key. In truth, it did not look like a key at all. It looked like a flattened brown rock, with only the patterns etched into the surface giving it character.

He hurried inside to the dip in the wall furthest in and placed the rock inside the slit.

At first, nothing happened, but, before he could be disappointed about it, the wall cracked, and an opening cracked down the wall in a straight line.

Cornelius looked in awe, his heart beating in excitement. Stepping forth, he pushed against the wall, and noticed he could push the wall open, as if it was a door. It was heavy, yes, but not heavy enough for the Professor to create an opening large enough for him to slip through.

Vial in hand, he made way past the wall, and despite it being a very tight secret room, his purpose was true enough for him to ignore it.

He walked down the narrow, rocky path, until he reached a dead end. One would feel claustrophobic, but not the Professor. For his mouth was agape at what he saw.

Cobalt gemstones were scattered in uneven patterns on the smooth rocky wall, the gems tiny, and spreading out in size about as large as his horse. The gems glimmered against the luminescent light from his vial. They were beautiful, but he understood that it was not their appearance that held meaning – it was their formation.

Withdrawing a roll of paper and charcoal from his rucksack, the Professor was very relieved that he would not return emptyhanded from the journey.

. . .

By the time the old man had returned outside the cave, daylight ascended past the mountaintops, making it clear for him that a new day had begun.

Scanning the area, the only sign of living was his horse, and the damned crow that scavenged off the bodies. This time, he had brought three friends, and they had a go at a wolf that had been torn apart by the vile bone-men, picking at its open gut.

Professor Cornelius took a deep breath and prepared himself for the manual labour that remained. Walking into the forest, he found a place underneath an ancient oak, retrieved the shovel that he had strapped to his horse's saddle, and started to dig.

Doing so until he was certain the grave would be big enough, he put the shovel down on the ground and groaned. It was just as well; his frail back could not have handled any more.

Retrieving his horse and two sets of rope, he tied the rope to Alva's hind legs, and tied the other ends to the saddle, and had his horse pull her carcass to the grave, repeating the procedure with her two cubs.

His horse was sweaty from the work, but at least it was finally done. The professor picked up the runt, and placed him between his mother's paws, between the oldest cub and her chest.

Covering the grave with dirt, leaves and moss, the Professor stepped back to study his work.

Diving into his pouch, he retrieved a different vial, a round flask, this time. The liquid could be mistaken for ale for the unknowing.

Pouring the vessel's foamy contents upon the mound, the half-dwarf stepped away to watch the mound sprout into a colourful bed of herbs, twigs, ferns, mushrooms, and flowers of all kinds. A young cherry tree sprouted at the head of the grave. Pleased with his work, the old man finished it off by tying a magnificent deer's antler up against the cherry tree's trunk, on its skull engraved;

All Will Be Right

Having no energy left, the Professor mounted his horse, and made the journey home, trusting his horse to bring him and his findings home in one piece.