Disclaimer: I don't own anything by C.S. Lewis..author dreams..a woman in white robes galloped magnificently on a horse..she reached a castle.. and hoisted the dark haired groom behind her and rode into the Western Woods(Edmund..DUH!!..very stupid I know, that usually comes when you run out of ideas....but bear with patient readers, bear with me..)

Hey I am back with this fic after a long long time....It was getting so long long and slow....I almost gave it up..but I really want to complete it....Please readers, keep reading and telling me about what you think!!!!!

Thanks again for all those reviews and suggestions. Please keep reviewing... I am absolutely for them....and so is the little green button!!

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...And so would the dryads...

This conversation echoed in his mind as he traced the many spines of the books in the 'Cultural' section. Till date, he hadn't managed to find a hint of these legendary places, and Edmund thought himself to be reasonably good scholar.

He remembered he had scoured the library for such information and felt his pride smart when he couldn't find anything, anything at all. It became one of the only assignments which he couldn't complete.

He reddened when he recalled the consultation with the dryads. He had asked them to send any information which help channel life into lands, or anything which matched that description. It resulted in him being bombarded by sentimental songs written in red ink. When asked for explanation, they had replied coquettishly about "love leading to life" and whether he had "understood what that meant."

He noted that one of the books had a characteristic bookmark-- a feather dyed in blue ink. Lucy....

Professor O'Brien must have set her some similar assignments too. He made a mental note about asking her whether she would want any help with it.

The candle melted steadily as he read through the Old Narnian Wedding Traditions. Apparently two creatures could marry even if "they were of contrasting species." There was no mention of procreational obligations.

The only thing which matters is the desire to spend their lives together.

Children however, are seen as special gifts of benevolent spirits. The birth of a child(same or part -specie) means immense celebration and responsibility. The most common communion are of humans and dryads. As such, there are very few part-dryad children. They are known by their unusual beauty and sensitivity.....

The yellow flame soundlessly burnt the wax to a translucent mess, which spread over the table like shapeless petals. As the wick touched the base of the candle, the flame burnt brighter and went out without warning. Edmund fumbled around again, this time to shut the books and put it back into the shelves. He felt his way out of the door and into the passage. He welcomed the dim lamplight which lined the wall.

He took down a torch and went up the steps of Lucy's tower. Hoping to elicit a reaction , he opened the door of her chambers without knocking,. None came. He peeped in and found her sleeping soundly, with a book laid open next to her. She appeared to breathe deeply, rhythmically.

He watched her face. Devoid of its ruddy hue, she was pale. His eyes went to the open window. She shouldn't have left it open...Tucking the covers around her, he turned away and left for his tower.

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Nerium waited a little more. She knew Edmund would take a longer time to sleep. Meanwhile she busied herself by sorting Queen Susan's chambers a little more. She proceeded towards the summer closet , with an armful of gowns. She arranged them there with a specific color code ranging from dark to light.

She sighed. It was so difficult to go out from the palace after dark, especially without permission from one of the monarchs. Queen Susan absolutely wouldn't allow it, while the other three had to be wheedled weeks before the actual day. She knew it was for safety but felt cloistered nevertheless. She, after all, was part-dryad. A strange restlessness would come over her especially during certain seasons and days. New moon for example, was a time when she tried every way she could, to escape the castle. Her reasons generally included familial responsibility.

This raised more questions, each more uncomfortable than the other. What familial duties would require her only after nightfall? Why couldn't she go in the day and come at night? Why would she want to engage in such activities which were so unsafe??

Peter and Edmund's words rang in her ears as she went out on those specific days. Only Lucy could sympathize with her situation. She knew about the extremely arcane rituals which dryads were obliged to follow. She remembered how she chanced upon them by accident.......

Lucy was up early. But today it was unusually so. It was more than two hours to sunrise. She sat at her window and breathed in the summer air. It was sweet but dry. She thought about what woke her up. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she had heard people talking. She put on her robe and exited her door.

She moved across the grass towards the creek. Nerium had just stolen out under the eye of the guard and was frozen in terror at the figure of her Valiant Queen walking so determinedly to where she herself was supposed to be an hour ago.

"Your Majesty!" cried Nerium. Lucy walked on. She could only hear music. Clear, melancholy voices which were thinly veiled by the moonless night.

Nerium couldn't catch up with her. Very soon, she had reached the creek . She stood still, hypnotized by those voices. Panting, Nerium neared Lucy and tapped on her shoulder.

"Your Majesty, you shouldn't be here. The elder dryads will be angry. Very angry. I request you to leave. Please, Your Majesty, the wrath of the dryads are famous..."

"Its all right Nerium. I will leave. I know how secretive dryads are. But why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be with your family?". Lucy had walked a little away from the creek and was now looking at her with raised eyebrows.

"Your Majesty....". Nerium hesitated. She knew how angry her aunt would be if she knew she had told anyone about her origin. But if Queen Lucy could be trusted with this, then why not---

"Your Majesty... they are my family. I am part-dryad." Nerium looked up with doubt. She wondered how the queen would react.

Lucy' s head reeled. Her eyes were wide with wonder. She came closer to her. "No wonder you are so.....unearthly." She could get the scent of new lemon leaves.

"Was your mother a fruit-tree dryad?" asked Lucy. Her texts had hinted that part dryads had mostly come about through human males and female dryads.

"How did you know it was my mother? Yes she was...she was." Nerium's voice had become very soft.

"I am sorry. It was just a guess. Though I was little curious about your appearance." Her eyes went over her extremely curly brown hair, which sometimes showed green tints. At night it seemed dark green. " And...I did think your eyes were a peculiar shade of hazel.", she said with smile.

"It could be. Actually, they try to imitate the colors of lemon trees." Nerium smiled back.

"Yes.. I mean they look green in the day and yellowish at night."

Nerium and Lucy looked at each other. They started to laugh. Clapping a hand on her mouth, Lucy whispered "I must go now". Nerium nodded and took a few a steps to the creek and looked back. Lucy was looking at her with a new recognition. "Thank you.." She hesitated and then added "Lucy."

She felt her way to the kitchen door. It was the most "unsafe" considering that the Head Cook's chambers were the closest but it was also shortest way to escape into the woods. She stole a glance behind her as she shut the door noiselessly.

In a short while she neared the clearing where her aunts sat and swayed to their whispering rhythms. She was soaking wet. There was no thunder now, just steady rain.

"Good evening, elder aunts" said Nerium as she gave a small bow and took her place among them. She waited a moment for them to respond to her presence.

A youthful face tinged with the palest shade of green opened her eyes from a reverie. She was Deylaav, the second oldest of her aunts. She had silver hair which were tied into coils and wound around her head. Her silvery eyes bored into Nerium's chrome ones.

"Tardiness isn't a quality that is tolerated." she said in a soft but musical voice. Her tone tingled with irritation.

"I am sorry but the Kings and Queens..." muttered Nerium, "..they hadn't allowed me out because of the rain, but I... I slipped out. That .. er.. took me some time." She knew that such behavior wasn't supported by her aunts, but they had no choice in the matter. Nerium had to be present-- no matter how she would come. Her thoughts were now being seconded by Fresia, the oldest aunt. Her silvery hair was left open and her eyes which were exactly like her niece's, showed patience.

"Your behavior isn't commendable, but we will have to condone it. Though I do understand the concerns of the Monarchs, who have no knowledge of our customs, in allowing a young thing like you, out at night. I wish I could impress upon them the necessary requirements of our customs."

At her words, the other Dryads turned their faces to Nerium.

Their expressions showed doubt mixed with acceptance. The views of one of the oldest dryads held weight and experience which the others could contemplate.

"However, I would like continue with more important matters right now. I wish to let my sisters know that a strange vibration passes through the lands. I feel dregs of energy being passed from the dead to the alive. I do not know why it happens, or how it happens but I can only tell that ancient and powerful magic has been revived." She looked up at he skies again and turned up her palms. The rain stuck them and created a thin, white mist. "It courses through those who know."

The other dryads exchanged looks and waited. They discussed this earlier but Fresia had held back one of the most important announcements. She had instructed them to wait for her niece.

"Today, I shall explain one of our most ancient duties. Aslan has made us to breathe life into the worlds he creates. He told our ancestors long ago that our power lies in our tendency to fall in love so fully, so easily. We give so much unconditionally. The tug to nurture and bring life comes from the purest of love. Our greatest joy is to see every blade of grass dance, feel every drop touch the earth and hear every heart beat......

For a long time, Aslan asked us to usher life into his lands. He created them and we loved his creations. When we showed them how to live, they ached with happiness. Then, they slowly forgot the meaning of his gift. Thus they languish painfully, waiting for their end."

Nerium listened and noticed the subtle changes around them as the rain withdrew reluctantly. The drops fell sporadically and the leaves stopped moving. They cried their crystal tears silently.

"Even so, all those creations aren't ungrateful.. They pine for love, for freedom from their existence as shells. However, the damage done by the ancestors cannot be undone." Fresia bowed her head as she paused. No one spoke.

"So, we let them be as they are." Nerium stated quietly. She narrowed her eyes and looked at her eldest aunt.

"We have no choice. Why this is so, I shall explain later. Now, however, there are other duties to attend." Fresia held her gaze impassively. Righteous anger. So human, she thought.

Deylaav closed her eyes again. "Tonight, our sister speaks of ancient magic. It is nothing but immense love, infinite adoration.... we bring forth this emotion in the oldest of our songs. Long ago, Zinnia, the first dryad, was heartbroken when her favorite flower died. She brought it back to life with this song. That flower became the fireflower-- and it still has the power to bring back those on the brink of death."

The dryads stood up and walked into the creek. The waters made no movement as the dryads whispered comforting words to the disturbed surface and stood as a closed group. They joined hands and raised to the sky. They started to sing......

When you walk with me

I cannot love you more

Don't be afraid of yourself

When I hide you from this world

Like dreams that shade your eyes

My colors will paint your world

I want to steal you away

keep you forever

If life has other plans

I will wait till the moon wanes

When you walk with me

I cannot love you more

If you smile,Tomorrow laughs

When you come,Yesterday fades

There isn't anything i need

when you mark the horizon

No shadow will cross you

I will be your sun

The darkness will part

when i hold your hand

When you walk with me

I cannot love you more..

Ethereal octaves were traversed by their soft, thin voices. The melody seemed to sheath the falling rain in a other worldly, forgotten plea to revive the earth, to return life to its own creatures. The song tapped an agonizing, painful side of love which the heart stashed away retrieved only for those precious. The dryads prayed that it reached for those lost, those invaluable and bring them back to a realm where unity occurred forever.

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Zinnia took slow steps across soft floor of the riverbed and gazed, unfocused, at the end of it. There were tiny pebbles strewn across the entire stretch, which condensed closer to form small rocks. Her mother used to tell her about long ago when she as a child, used to play there. They used to play hide-n-seek.....

Her face was streaked and dirty. Light breeze blew, as if mocking her anger with peace. The dinner she had carried with her was long over as she searched tirelessly, endlessly for her brother. She couldn't go home and face her empty house, with reminders of his being scattered about. She decided to perish in her search. Her success would be in her achieving freedom. Freedom to not exist, freedom for new life. But she didn't have the will to go through life all over again.

Her mind was blank. She had reached the rocks. Stopping for a moment, she looked back. The rocks, being near the river bed, was much lower than the rest of the city and she could make out the many dying remnants of her city, of whatever she had gathered through life. It seemed to glow in the red light of the sky and fade away. The curse seemed to absorb everything away from the city, leaving her to watch it all.

The game of survival had come to an end. It had no winners or losers, but whoever lived past it, had to witness flashes life as it shimmered away. One could only watch.......

Suddenly tired, she sat behind one of the rocks. "Halo, Halo........No....Why did y-y—you...Where......." She touched the hard, cool surface of the rock, and turned her face to it. A fresh wave of tears threatened to surface again, and Zinnia leaned her head against the rock. No sobs came forth this time. Ironically, empty feelings welled up within her and and came out as hot ribbons, reminding her of----

Winds arose and rushed across the jagged outlines of every rock, dragging up the coarse, grainy soil. Zinnia opened her eyes as she felt the winds brush across her skin. She started to breathe heavily.....

This can't be happening......this is …. is..... "A storm??" Zinnia asked herself as she looked up at the sky. It was no longer red.

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