Chapter 4: The Calling

Narnian Year 1000, 5th Month

So this was what spring felt like. Maraidia had seen it in paintings and heard about it from the creatures that were old enough to remember life before the winter. It was beautiful, but strange. The sun was out, but she couldn't feel it. There was a slight wind, but she couldn't see it in the trees. She was wandering on her own in the forest, not a single patch of snow in sight. The leaves on the trees looked to Maraidia like cascading petals of green light. Come to think of it, she couldn't quite remember how she got into the forest. Her father would be worried. But she also couldn't remember spring coming. Surely that meant Jadis was defeated, would it not? And now she was also seventeen years old. In a few months, she would be eighteen, an adult. She did not look too much different than she did as a younger teenager. The only difference was that her figure had filled out and her hair had gotten longer, to her lower back. It had changed colors, too. It was lighter, more golden, like the late evening sunset. And it had taken on a natural waterfall curl texture.

Whatever the reason for this strange scene that Maraidia found herself in, she wanted to explore more of it. She walked up a small hill into a clearing. From here the sun reached through more branches. Flowers grew and she could almost hear the birds chirping. Up ahead Maraidia's eyes befell a strange sight. There in front of her was a swirling vortex of flower petals. Though taken aback at first Maraidia approached it. When she was about ten feet away the pink petals took on the form of a woman. It was dryad, as she had recognized from her studies. They were supposed to bring messages. The being smiled at her then did something quite strange. She pointed to the direction of Maraidia's right, then floated up high and disappeared, petals scattering. Having a feeling to obey, she walked in the direction the dryad had pointed. After walking quite a long way she came to a stop. There was another dryad right in front of her. When Maraidia approached this one, she gestured out her hand and pointed behind Maraidia.

When she turned around she saw several small trees. But these trees moved. They moved to one side or the other, carving a sort of pathway. Maraidia turned to look back at the dryad, but she had disappeared much like the first one. Turning back towards the pathway among the trees, she began to walk. But suddenly, when she was about halfway through, she heard something that made her stop. It was a voice. "Maraidia" it whispered. She looked around, but did not find the owner. She took another step forward. Then she heard it again. But instead of a breathy whisper this one was more full. The voice was deep and rumbling. The more she walked the louder it became. She climbed up another small hill and into another clearing. This one was the most different of all. There were no dryads in this clearing. There was nothing but a big boulder in the center, nearly white and polished smooth with sunlight. She heard the voice again. This time it was not a whisper. "Maraidia. Come closer, child. Step upon this rock."

Maraidia obeyed immediately. She stood upon the rock and sunlight came upon her, this time she could feel its warmth. It was almost overwhelming. "Who are you?" she finally asked.

"I am who I am," said the voice. "Look within your heart." Maraidia thought for only a few seconds.

"Aslan?" she asked in disbelief. The voice chuckled lightly.

"Your instincts do not fail, my child." Maraidia dropped to her knees in worship and astonishment.

"Why are you speaking to me?"

"You are the Queen, are you not?" asked the Voice of Aslan.

"Well, yes," Maraidia responded. "But that doesn't answer my question."

"I have seen the suffering of my people. I have heard their anguished cries. I am returning to Narnia to rescue them."

"Is that why it's spring now, then?" Maraidia asked with hope. Had Aslan saved them?

"I'm afraid this is but a dream," responded the Voice of Aslan. "When you awake it will still be winter." At this, Maraidia's face fell.

"Oh…" she said simply.

"Do not be discouraged. It is up to you to bring the Narnians to me, as their Queen." Maraidia could hardly believe what she was hearing.

"What if they don't believe me?" she asked. "I'm still a child. And they are a very stubborn people. Many of them have lost their faith. They wouldn't even listen to my father."

"I will be with you," said the Voice of Aslan. "And I will send you signs that it is I calling the Narnians to fight."

"Fight?" Maraidia repeated.

"Yes," the Voice of Aslan confirmed. "The Witch will not give up Narnia easily without one."

"But I've never fought in battle before!" Maraidia protested.

"You have all you need. Just have faith, and I will provide for you…" And with that, the Voice faded. Then, the rest of the forest did as well.

Maraidia awoke in bed with a start. She placed a hand over her heart, which was pounding so loud that she was sure the whole village could hear it. She leapt out of her bed and to the window. It was frosted over. She wiped it with her hand and looked out of the window. Snow and ice were all that her eyes could see, even in the dark. Indeed it was a dream. She then turned around and walked out of her room. She made her way down the hallway and was about to knock on her father's door. But just as she raised her fist, she withdrew it. No, her father would think her foolish. The dream was simply a manifestation of her heart's desire, that was all. With that thought, she quickly turned on her heel and went back to sleep, to no dreams this time.

Three days later, Maraidia was out gathering berries with her aunt and her grandmother (this was Dulcinea, who you'll remember from another chapter). They were hoping to gather enough to make a pie out of and to trade. There was a man named Tassos who's family harvested golden syrup from the trees. Maraidia and her grandmother liked to make snow candy together. They would boil the syrup over a fire and then drizzle it over a plate of snow. It would then harden for them to eat. Maraidia and Dulcinea were really close. She filled the shoes of the mother Maraidia never got to know. She was a short, pleasingly plump woman who never deprived Maraidia of love and guidance. Her wisdom was just as far reaching as Darius's. Her Aunt Kriti on the other hand was taller but rough around the edges, unassuming in looks. Maraidia towered over both of them, three inches taller than her aunt and five inches above her grandmother. Kriti never married or had children as she preferred to spend her time tending to the village's livestock. Animals were her only love. However hardworking she was, she lost her temper quite frequently and often butted heads with Darius over what was best for Maraidia. But she always helped to toughen up her niece and meant well. Maraidia always thought that she was still hurting over Valera's death.

"How many do you think we'll need, Grandmother?" Maradia asked. "I have almost two full baskets already." She was rather proud of herself for her gather. It was a welcome distraction from her dream. She had not told anyone about it, not even Dulcinea, whom Maraidia told everything to.

"We'll need more than that if you want to get a good bottle of syrup off that Tassos!" Kriti exclaimed in her usual brash way. "I've never trusted that lunatic. A con he is!"

"Oh come now dear, he's perfectly a gentleman," Dulcinea objected. "Though perhaps a bit unorthodox."

"I'm not so sure about the 'gentleman' notion, Grandmother," Maraidia said. "The last time I traded with him he only gave me half a bottle. The rest was filled with just water."

"See?" said Kriti. "I told you!" Dulcinea could do nothing more than laugh. She then gave a great shiver and breathed into her hands to warm them up.

"Grandmother, perhaps you should go inside," Maraidia said, wrapping her arms around Dulcinea. "I wouldn't want you to get sick ."

"Oh, nonsense!" Dulcinea insisted, waving her hand in rejection. "Remember I've lived through this winter a lot longer than you have, my little rosebud." Maraidia smiled as her grandmother went back to work gathering. She admired Dulcinea. She was a tough as nails woman, but with plenty of emotion and compassion, always putting family first. In Maraidia's eyes, she was the very definition of a queen. Unlike Darius, who put many expectations on his daughter's shoulders, Dulcinea expressed nothing but pride. Maraidia herself turned around and went back to gathering more berries in a fresh basket. About an hour more passed before Maraidia's ears picked up on the sound of people hastily chattering in the village square. Just as she turned to look, a young boy was running to approach them.

"Maraidia!" he exclaimed out of breath. As she had gotten older, more people in the village had started to refer to her as "Lady Queen'' the proper term for the High Queen of Narnia or "Your Majesty", which was the second most accepted address. Maraidia was slowly getting used to it. However, many children still called her by name. "You're needed in the square!" Maraidia took a hard swallow and brushed any dirt or snow off her black cloak. Giving her grandmother a hug and her aunt a goodbye wave, she followed the boy back to the center of the village. There were many people and creatures all gathered in a circle. As Maraidia approached she heard a strange new voice. It was loud, booming, and authoritative. She slowly started to make her way through the crowd. She got close enough to finally see the owner of the voice. To her utter surprise it was a centaur. She had never seen one before. They lived in a different part of Narnia and usually stuck to their own herds. But she did hear that they were blessed with astronomical divination powers; using the stars, sun and moon to predict the future.

"I beseech you villagers again, who among you is the Moltenore Queen?" he bellowed. Maraidia became instantly nervous. Her stomach churned and the back of her neck beaded with sweat. Nevertheless, she lowered the white fur trimmed hood of her cloak and stepped forward.

"I am." The centaur turned around and looked at her. He was perhaps seven feet tall, with flowing black hair, a chiseled face, and pointed ears. He was wearing armor and had a sword on each side. He said nothing right away but instead bent his human half towards her to look in her eyes.

After a few minutes he whispered "Yes." Then he stood up before bending again, this time in a bow. "Lady Queen," he said. "I am General Oreius, here on behalf of Aslan, the Most High and Noble Lion." Gasps and more murmurs from the crowd, which had gone silent arose. Maraidia was very nearly dumbstruck. She gazed among the gathered people before feeling a hand on her shoulder. She looked back to see Darius behind her. He said nothing but give her a small nod. She nodded back. She knew what to say.

"I am Maraidia Moltenore. He brings you with a message, then?" Maraidia asked.

"Yes, Lady Queen," Oreius the centaur replied. "He has returned to Narnia." This time louder voices arose from the crowd. "He is building up a bigger army to fight against the White Witch. And he has requested you, Your Majesty, and this entire village, to join him at the Cliffs of Beruna, near the Stone Table."

"Oh, so now he decides he wants to save us?" came a voice from the crowd.

"Yeah," came another. "Where was he a hundred years ago? Where has he been since then?"

"He's had plenty of opportunities to deliver us from the Witch but has chosen not to! Well why should we choose to go to him?" With that, about a dozen people from the fifty gathered walked away, not wanting to hear anymore. Oreius turned back to Maraidia, though irritably pawing at the ground with his hoof.

"As you can see, Lady Queen, the situation is most dire. Aslan needs you to help him free his beloved country. We all need you." Then he pulled himself up to his full height. "I must leave you now. You know where we are." With another small bow, Oreius turned around and galloped off out of the village. Maraidia watched him until he was out of sight. She turned around for a brief moment to look at her father, who's face held an unreadable expression. Saying not a word, she pulled her hood back over her head and began to walk back to their house, her mind swimming with thoughts.

It had now been a week since Oreius had arrived in the village. Some of the population did not believe him at all. Others begged her or Darius to give the command to leave the village so they could fight and serve Aslan. Maraidia didn't know what to think or believe. She wanted to but she couldn't help some of the thoughts that entered her mind. Why hadn't Aslan showed up to stop Jadis in the first place? Why had he let them suffer in winter for a hundred years? Or was Oreius even who he had said he was? Eventually the thoughts became too much for her to bear. With her father's permission, she had saddled up Phobos and had gone for a ride in the forest. She fired arrows into trees, pretending that they were her thoughts that she was firing from her mind. When she slowed Phobos down to give him a break from galloping, Maraidia found herself alone with her thoughts again. Unable to take it anymore she cried out to the sky, raising up her arms.

"Please!" she begged. "If it really was you, Aslan, send me a sign! Show me what path to take!" She listened for something, waited to feel anything. After a few minutes, nothing happened. But just as she was about to turn Phobos around, she heard it. A sound that seemed to be from some distant memory; running water. She followed the sound, leading Phobos throughout the woods. She had gone what seemed to be about half a mile before she saw it. There was a small creek of water flowing through the snow in the direction of the Cliffs of Beruna. Next to the creek was a flowering tree, though the petals were still frosted over. Climbing off of Phobos's back, Maraidia approached the creek. As she walked closer flowers began to spring up from the ground. As she looked into the water, her eyes were met with a wondrous sight. There staring back at her, instead of her own reflection, was the majestic face of Aslan. At first, she took a step back with fright, unsure if her eyes were playing tricks on her. She rubbed them and then looked into the water again. The reflection of Aslan was still there. Then she heard it. The Voice. "Maraidia''. That was all she needed. She looked back up to the sky with the widest smile.

"Thank you," she whispered. With that she rushed back onto Phobos and galloped back to the village.

"No. No way. Not happening! I am not packing up everything we've built after fifteen years just to tote out to some cliffs to find a lion that may or may not be there!" Maraidia stood in the home of a woman named Emblyn. She had been spending the last two days going door to door in the village trying to convince them that now was the time to leave. Some were very eager and responded to her call almost immediately. Others listened to her, but told her they would think about going. And still others were incredibly hard to convince or couldn't be altogether. Emblyn was one of those people. She had seven children all under the age of eight and her husband was a known drunk. Maraidia couldn't necessarily blame her for not wanting to leave.

"Emblyn, please consider what I'm saying-"

"No!" she exclaimed again. "You may think you're the Queen but last I checked you have no crown upon your head yet. Therefore you have no power over me and neither does Aslan! If he even exists!" This made Maraidia's blood boil.

"He does exist!" she yelled, momentarily frightening Emblyn. "He has shown me signs! First my dream, and then the water. I implore you to stop being so stubborn and at least open your mind to listen!"

"I'm not listening to a child!" Emblyn yelled back before beginning to laugh. "Face it. You have no idea what you're doing." Maraidia took a deep breath and hardened her stare.

"Maybe not entirely," she said softly. "But I do know my faith. I trust my feelings, and I trust Aslan." She then turned around and began to walk to the front door. Just before she reached it though, she turned around to offer one final message to Emblyn. "You have two choices, Emblyn. You can either come with the majority of us, fight for our freedom. And with this choice I promise that once I am crowned Queen I will do all I can to help you and your struggling family, along with many here who are like you."

Just as Emblyn was about to say "We don't need your help", Maraidia raised up her hand sharply. "But you do. You're just too stubborn and proud to admit it. I say again: you can either leave and head towards a better life, towards freedom, and look upon Aslan with your own eyes. Or you can stay here, left behind, still struggling, and forgotten. The choice is yours." Then she walked out of the house before Emblyn could say another word. For the first time, the cold was a refresher from the heated tensions in the house. She may not be able to convince everybody, but the Army of Aslan they still were. And this Army would leave their place of safety and familiarity for a journey of danger and war. But Maraidia welcomed this danger, as horrid as it may have been. For she had one thing: her faith in Aslan. Her faith was her strength. And no number of villagers or even the wrath of the White Witch would be able to shake it.