Edited: 10/04/2022
Changes made to this chapter
Chapter Four: The people of Narnia
"Will you tell me of the creatures of Narnia?" I asked what I hoped was a happier question the next morning. Or what they had assumed was the next morning since a one-eyed beast had woken them from fitful slumbers to give them each half-frozen stale bread and a cup of frozen water.
"Oh, there are so many. There are many speaking beasts, all of them of the land and air since Aslan did not grant animals of the water with our shared language. Let's see…" Raafxet hummed thoughtfully. "There are the Badgers, who it is said have minds that remember; I have many good friends who are badgers, although there are not as many as their used to be. They used to be keepers of knowledge and law, and still try to pass what knowledge and books they managed to salvage onto all they can find."
"Then there are the dwarves: the red dwarves are loyal to Aslan and the black dwarves who betrayed us and are loyal to the White Witch. Dwarves are fierce warriors, but better minors and architects. It is said that the Dwarves, those of red hair and of black, worked together to build Cair Paravel, the greatest Palace in Narnia." Raafxet looked around the dungeon that they were stuck in. "Far better then this frozen building that the White Witch had called her own."
"Centaurs, who are the noble and proud gazes of the sky, with an unbending loyalty to the true kings and queens. It is said that Aslan left messages in the sky and that the wisest and most open of centaurs can read these messages. Next, there is the stout earthmen, a fraction of whom preferred to be called gnome so one must be careful when addressing them by species without introduction."
Raafxet smiled in amused remembrance as he thought over whatever event it was that had taught him to be careful when addressing earthmen/gnomes. Although, I couldn't fathom how one would be careful in addressing these creatures, perhaps by just avoiding calling them by name until given reason to know which term they preferred to be known as? Perhaps, once Raafxet had finished telling of the creatures of Narnia, I would ask him to tell that story. Considering their current situation, happy stories would be good for the both of them.
"Now, we have creatures who are unusual or rare in number. In Narnia the only humans who lived here, before the White Witches' attack, are our Kings and Queens and their children, although we have records of large populations of humans living in Archenlander, and further beyond that land in Calormene and Telmarine although there is little connection between us and the further kingdoms." Raafxet got slightly side tracked before he continued his tale.
"Lions, leopards, tigers, panthers and jaguars are next, although it should be remembered that Aslan is the greatest of all big cats. Then we have the phoenix, a very rare species. Only two fire birds have ever been confirmed as seen; they are immortal beings of re-birth, and it is believed these birds are the oldest creatures of Narnia, because they were created directly by Aslan instead of just being descendants as the rest of us are. Finally, of the notable creatures there are the Satyr who are my wilder cousins." Raafxet shrugged slightly as he got to the Satyr.
"There are many other creatures granted the gift of speaking by Aslan: albatrosses, bats, bears, beavers, boar, cattle, deers, dogs, donkeys, dryad, duffers, eagle, elephants, elks fairies, falcons, fauns, foxes, giants, giraffes, gryphon, hamadryade, hares, hedgehogs, horses, jackdaw, kangaroo, kingfishers, lamb, marsh-wigglers, maenad, merpeople, mole, monopod, mouse, naiad, nymph, orkney, owl, panther-bird, peacock, pegasus, pelican, rabbit, reindeer, ravens, robins, salamder, sea horses, the sea serpent, serpents, silenus, spectres, sprites, squid, squirrels, stags, tapir, unicorns, water-rat, wolves." Raafxet hummed. "Of course, there are many creatures who were not gifted the ability to speak, creatures that we call Beasts."
Raafxet let out a thoughtful and sad hum before continuing. "There are also the beasts who turned to work for the White Witch, the Efreet, Eetin, Hyena, Jackle, Lizard, Minotaurs, Rats, Vultures and Werewolfs. And the creates that she created in order to attack Narnia and over throw our people: Boggle, ghoul, hag, horrors, incubus, ogre, orkny, toadstool people, trolls, woose and wraith."
I blinked rapidly after Raafxet listed off more than twenty different creatures and beings in alphabetical order. I had been impressed when he'd been providing a creature with a brief description, but to then list so many creatures in order, I hadn't even known that was possible. I'm not sure I could list twenty creatures from earth in accurate alphabetical order, although I could try it was probable that I'd repeat a creature or two.
"You explained those categorically and alphabetically." I told him impressed. Both the list of talking creatures and the second list of the beings who work for or were created by the White Witch had been done alphabetically from A-Z, and it didn't sound like he'd missed anyone. If he had missed someone, the list was so long that I hadn't been able to make it out.
"It's easier to make sure I remembered them all if I tell you them in such an order," Raafxet explained with a smile.
Their conversation was cut off by the dungeon door squealing as it was opened. The Boggle from that morning entered, followed by a being I guessed to be a dwarf. He was about the same height as me, but it was obvious he wasn't a child because he had a black beard that fell to his knees. His hair was wild and untamed, and he had a red winter hat awkwardly perched on his head.
"Free the faun." The dwarf ordered the Boggle who raised his club and brought it down on the chains that bound Raafxet's feet.
"AH!" Raafxet shouted in pain as the shackles shattered. With the forced used to break the shackles, I would be unsurprised if the bones in his ankles hadn't also been broken.
"Raafxet!?" I called to him in concern, my eyes wide in worry but I couldn't see him completely through the wall.
"It's alright, Harry. Everything will be alright." He tried reassuring me as the Boggle grabbed his arm to drag him from the room. "Believe in Aslan. He will come."
When Raafxet wasn't returned after many hours I was forced to concede that he wasn't coming back. I hopped that he had been turned into a statue and not killed because the magic of the statues could be reversed. Their lives had simple been paused, frozen in time. I didn't know how I knew that, but I did know that the statues could be brought back but the dead couldn't.
No one entered the dungeons for the rest of the day, and the Boggle appeared briefly with food the next day, but otherwise I was left alone. The plates which had once held stale bread – which wasn't the worst thing I had ever eaten – were piled in the corner and I decided to use them to keep track of the days. The cups, which had once held ice, was drunk by either licking the ice or biting off a piece and holding it in my mouth until it melted. Once the first cup was empty, I placed it in the furthest point from me and decided to use it, and all other consecutive cups, as a toilet.
I noticed after a few hours of sitting in the cold dungeons, fruitlessly trying to circulate warmth by doing some stretches and sit ups (both exercises that used limited leg movement) that the warmth that had always burned in my chest and comforted me during long nights had spread into my limbs. Although I wasn't warm, I wasn't freezing either. I used the break in coldness to slip into a meditative state for a few hours before exercising again and then repeating the cycle. I didn't try and sleep again since the meditation helped keep me alert despite having no sleep, and I didn't want to be caught off guard by the White Witch or any of her people.
On my third day in the dungeons, I was brought before the cruel women who had oppressed a nation and frozen the land. Instead of having the chains broken to release me, a dwarf came in to undo the lock. This was my only sign that the White Witch intended to return me to the dungeons once she had finished asking me her questions.
"How did you get to Narnia?"
I kept my silence.
"What do you know of Aslan?"
I turned my eyes away, mouth firmly shut.
"What are Aslan's plans?"
Still, now word passed between clenched teeth.
"Where are the traitors setting up camp?"
Even if I knew how to answer that, I wouldn't have. If there was a camp of traitors, then that meant that they were fighting back.
"What are your numbers?"
I hoped that their numbers were high, but I didn't say anything.
"What are you doing in Narnia?"
That was a question I wish that I had an answer to as well.
"Who trained you how to fight?"
Myself, an answer that she wouldn't believe even if I did speak it. Lies, she would claim if I allowed the truth to escape me now.
"Where are the traitors getting their weapons?"
As she asked her questions, I continued to remain silent, not willing to say anything. There was nothing that I knew that could help her. I didn't know how I got to Narnia. I didn't know anything about Aslan or the rebellion.
So, my voice remained silent even as Jadis brought the temperature down in the room. Even as she back-handed me across the room in frustration. Even as she threatened pain and death.
I wasn't scared to die and pain was an old friend.
Eventually, when I struggled to get back to my feet and yet my silence held, she had me returned to my cell.
I wasn't disturbed again for ten days (which I continued to count using the plates that still arrived once a day). It seemed Jadis wanted to ware me out through isolation and the cold of her dungeons. Assuming that if I was weakened enough and had given up hope, that I would answer her questions. Unfortunately for her I had the will of a survivor and the discovery of my warmth to keep me occupied.
When I had been meditating on the fifth day of captivity, I went from being aware of only my breathing and the sense of calm that the warmth in my chest brought me, to being suddenly submerged completely in that warmth before I found myself in a beautiful meadow. The grass was a luscious green, soft and bouncy under my feet. Dotted in random, natural, clusters of chaos were flowers of all colours.
I was so taken with the beauty of the meadow that it took me a while to look to the sky and discover that despite the light and warmth, the sky was covered in clouds. Some of them where a beautiful, pure white while others were a dark ominous black. Although, the black clouds were few in number, there was also a large number in various shades of grey. Curious I reached out as though to touch one of the few white clouds and was surprised when it descended from the sky and to my hand.
The moment my hand touched it I found myself in a cosy living room that was vaguely familiar to me. The walls were painted a warm brown, the carpet a rich gold. There was a fireplace burning at the heart of the room and the sofas and chairs had been arranged comfortable around it.
Sat on the sofa was a beautiful red-haired lady, her green eyes sparkling with laughter as she leaned into a tall, black haired man with almond eyes hidden by glasses. Both of them were laughing at the sight before them. There was a large black hound, his hair long and shaggy. Upon the dog's back was a baby, clinging to his fur and trying to grab its tail. The dog was spinning in circles around another child while trying to keep its tail safe, and also trying to keep the baby on his back.
"Padfoot. Mum. Dad. Brother." I whispered as tears fell. This memory was full of joy and laughter, and yet looking upon the faces of my parents there was a new feeling forming inside me: Longing.
The memory came to an end as my mother gave in and lifted me from Padfoot's back and blew a raspberry on my stomach.
Looking down at the memory-cloud in my hand I realised that it didn't feel right for my memories to be floating loose like that over my mind. Focusing on the cloud I pictured it turning into a katana. The sword was sheaved using leather, and carved into the leather was the date and time of the memory. On the metal of the sword was the names of the people in the memory (James, Lily, Padfoot, Harold, Charlie).
I chose to use a sword because it represented protection, strength, honour and change. It was a weapon wielded by knights and kings of past, used to call armies to their side. It represented change, because I started learning how to fight when I decided that I wouldn't be a burden anymore – I would become my own man. Furthermore, it also represented protection and I was protecting my memories. The Katara specifically was a sword which required great skill to master and was extremely sharp and precise – qualities I hoped to keep about my memories. Now that I had gained a memory of my parents, I never wanted it to fade or be lost to me again.
Smiling, pleased with my work, I looked up to the meadow and decided that I needed somewhere safe to store the memories encase someone tried getting into my head. I pictured the old oak tree that had taken me to Narnia. Once the tree was there, I pictured a hidden opening to underground tunnels within the roots of the tree. Entering the passage way, I created a door and within was an empty room with only shelves. The Katana was placed on its stand on the shelf.
Returning to the surface I surveyed the clouds.
There were a lot of grey ones that I decided to deal with first. Then I would deal with the darker grey ones and finally the three black clouds that I could see before viewing the remainder of the white clouds. If the colour indicated the happiness of the memory, then I decided that I would rather deal with the happy ones last. Almost like a reward to myself.
I had dealt with perhaps only ten memories before I left my mind. I hadn't realised how tiring it would be to view my memories. Most of the grey clouds consisted of the memories I had from the Dursleys, since none of them were happy, but rarely were they truly bad (although a couple of the darker grey clouds (that were nearly black) probably held some of the more profound memories of pain).
Coming out of my meditation I went through the stretchers, sit-ups and bum-shuffles/stomach curls that I had taken to doing just to get blood flowing and my muscles working while minimising the amount of noise I made with the chains. Without a clock it was hard to tell the time, but I guessed about an hour was spent doing physical exercise before I felt ready to return to my mind and continue sorting it.
That was how my days passed. I normally entered my mind four or five times a day, with exercise between each time as I allowed my mind to rest. Then I would sleep for a few hours, only to wake to the Boggle bringing my food. I noticed after about five days of sorting through my memories that my thought process was coming easier and that it was quicker to deal with the memories now than it had been when I started. I was getting through about twenty memories per session instead of the ten I started with.
Every ten days, the Boggle would come into my cell and drag me out and to the White Witch. With each session that I remained silent, she got angrier and angrier and her hits became harder. I could see from the flame in her eyes that soon she would go from simple hitting me and slapping me around the room to something far worse – to sharper and more concentrated pains to get me talking.
I had nearly finished sorting out my memories, only the white clouds and the black clouds were left. But my routine was interrupted when the dwarf let two wolves into the dungeons since they had a prisoner. Another faun. He was chained up in the cell next to me before the dwarf sneered in disgust and left.
"Are … you okay?" I asked the scared faun once they were alone.
He jumped slightly having not expected there to be anyone else in the dungeons. "Y-yes, I'm fine." He said, moving over to the gap where I was also sat. "You're a son of Adam." He realised.
"Yes… I'm Harry... What's your … name?" I asked curiously, making sure to keep my body curled to hide the bruises across my body. I'd been here alone, for seventy days, in silence – it would be nice to talk to someone else.
"Tumnus." He answered. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Why are you here?" I asked him curiously.
"I… I helped Lucy, a daughter of Eve. I didn't turn her over to the secret police as was decreed." He admitted.
"There was another human here?" I wondered.
"Yes. She said she came through the wardrobe in the spar-oom." Tumnus answered hesitantly, obviously not familiar with the words used. "Is that how you came to Narnia as well?"
"No, I think I came through a tree. Will you tell me about Lucy? Or what Fauns are like? Raafxet only had enough time to tell me about Aslan." I enquired.
"Raafxet? He was here?" Tumnus asked shocked.
"Yes. We were caught at the same time." I explained. "Did you know him?"
"Yes, we were friends..." They fell into silence as Tumnus mourned the loss of his friend. "I'll tell you about Lucy and Fauns. It will help distract me."
"I first met Lucy two weeks ago. I was carrying some books which I had collected from a friend after lending them. She startled me so much I dropped the parcels. She was so kind, and timid. She helped me gather up the parcels, and I invited her to my home for tea and sardines." Tumnus began with a slight smile as he remembered his first meeting with the human girl. As he talked, he didn't really look at me.
"I explained to her who Aslan was, before I did something foolish. You see, the White Queen had declared if a human was seen in Narnia, they were to be immediately handed in to her. Seventy-three days ago, a new decree was added to her law. If it was discovered that a human was kept secret from her, they would be punished by a… a slow death." Tumnus shuddered as he made an amendment to the wording of the punishment, which I had no doubt would be painful as well as slow.
"I… I'm not as strong as my father and I played an old lullaby. The many of the lullabies played by Fauns contain a magic to them. The fire danced too my tune and Lucy fell into slumber. But I couldn't take her to the White Queen, not when I knew what she would do. I couldn't betray Aslan like that. I couldn't betray Lucy like that. She was too kind. Too innocent. When Lucy woke, I told her what I had done. And… and she told me it would be okay. That I wasn't a bad faun."
A tear rolled down his cheek and I reached through the gape to place a comforting hand on his shoulder since I couldn't reach his hands to grasp them nor could I pull him into a hug. I knew that the fiction books I read generally had someone showing comfort with a hug or a hand clasp, but I hoped just the contact would be enough. With the wall separating us, reaching my limb through the gape was the best that I could do.
"I took Lucy back to the lamppost where I had first met her and she returned to her siblings. I thought that would be the last time I saw Lucy and that the trees would have told on me. I don't live in a part of Narnia where the trees are still loyal. But the secret police didn't come to take me away. Instead, three days ago, Lucy returned. She told me of how she spoke with her older siblings – Edmund, Susan and Peter – and told them of Narnia. But they didn't believe her. She was really upset by it. I told her she shouldn't have returned, that it would put her in danger. But she said that I was her friend. That she couldn't just leave me. She stayed for nearly three hours, and we talked more about Aslan and what Narnia use to be like."
"The next day, the Secret Police came for me. They had somehow learnt about how I helped Lucy."
"But if you weren't caught the first time she visited, how were you caught the second time?" I asked confused, suddenly feeling so very worried for this poor Faun who had a fate worse than what had happened to Raafxet in store for him if the White Witch kept her promise.
"I don't know," Tumnus admitted. "But I am grateful that Lucy managed to return to her siblings safely. If she hadn't, she would be here with us until the White Queen managed to also capture her siblings."
"Why dose the White Witch want to capture humans?" I asked confused. I'd wanted to know from the first time that I'd been dragged before the Witch and questioned, and then returned alive, but I hadn't had the opportunity to ask anyone why; why was it that I was fighting to stay alive ad keep my silence from this woman, and why was she trying so hard to break that silence.
"There was a prophecy." Tumnus explained, looking hesitantly to the dungeon doors for a moment before deciding to answer.
"Wrong will be right,
When Aslan comes in sight,
At the sound of his roar,
Sorrows will be no more,
When he bares his teeth,
Winter meets its death,
When he shakes his mane,
We shall have spring again.
And upon fair throne,
Adam's flesh and Adam's bone,
Two sons of Adam, Two daughters of Eve,
They shall sit when valiant believe.
The time of evil dawns to an end
And by the will of magic's friend
Narnia shall prosper once more."