Y'all may as well despise me for it is going to come…
This is for our favourite set of FAUN TWINS!
THE NIGHT BEFORE…
Helda ran as fast as her little legs could carry her. She wanted to get away, to escape the darkness of the frightening village. Because she knew that, beyond the barricade of huts and thick trees, was a nation of opportunity. An abundance of hope. Of dreams. It stretched up and out, from the frozen mountains of the north, to the splendid Eastern Sea. It lies forever. For every Narnian and every soul that believed.
It lies.
How else did the kings and queens come to their land? They claimed not to be of this world. Were there other worlds in the vastness of the universe? Beyond the Leopard and the Hammer? Did their world sit upon the tip of the Ship? If so, what had brought them here?
Helda knew of Aslan. She knew of his ways and his tricks, his gifts and his doings. She prayed to him every night, told him all her secrets. Did they tell Aslan their secrets? Did He hear their wishes for a new world, a new life? Was that what they were granted? Their wishes granted?
It was possibly. They were royalty.
But, Helda had heard stories from Queen Lucy that afternoon. She had said that back home, in her old world, she was nothing but a little girl in the midst of a scarring war. The queen had then spoken of how life in her old world was like. It was a world of darkness and loud noises, people living in secret and big barrels of fire being dropped from the backs of Gryphons. Queen Lucy had called them air-planes and guns. Helda had considered it all as the deepest and darkest pits of Hell.
But maybe, maybe that's why Aslan chose them. To keep their family safe. Because he knew they'd keep Narnia safe. Keep Helda safe.
"Helda!"
Dragged out of her thoughts, she watched in horror as a figure tumbled down the hill they were sliding down in a hurried tousle. A scream escaped her small lips. "Zarin!"
The rolling figure continued to roll, howling. This confused Helda.
Why would a faun howl?
Then she saw it. A large, bulky figure stepped out of the shadows and descended upon the figure. A sharp blade glistened in the moonlight. She heard the crunch, the impact between steel and flesh. She screamed once more.
"Z-zarin!"
A wind rippled over her face, and she felt the softness of her brother's hands on her arm. She sighed, relieved. But then she looked up at the dead figure and shrunk back.
"C-c-Cimoa?"
Zarin nodded.
"Sylyr?" she called.
The Centaur stepped up, eyes ablaze. "Stay here, children."
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His hooves pattered down the hill urgently, dual swords rose in preparation for combat. Sylyr reached his companion's body and glanced around for the figure.
It wasn't there.
Suddenly, the sound of metal being drawn injected itself into Sylyr's mind. He ripped around, and faced his opponent.
A Black Dwarf, short and bushy-eyed, stood in front of him with cold eyes. His arms held a sword high. His face was the pure representation of hate.
"Drop it," the Centaur commanded.
"Eeeh, drop it." The Dwarf imitated.
"I said "drop it." I do not wish to harm you, dwarf, but I shall if I must. Understand?"
"Barely, four-legs."
Then, the dwarf launched himself into the air, clashing his blade with Sylyr. The two of the swooped and stepped, parried and danced around each other. They threw blows and missed others. Sylyr watched in bleak amusement as his enemy began to breathe deeply.
"You will not win," the True Narnian vowed. "I shall see to that."
Sylyr blocked another blow.
And another.
He swatted away the dwarf's sword.
But just as Sylyr thought it was over, and he could pin down his own opponent for good, a new figure glided into the ring.
"Be wise, Centaur, that you have failed your own."
Sylyr slashed away the dwarf's sword, silencing him forever. Then he glanced up, to see a tall, majestic-looking Lion.
"Aslan…"
The Centaur crossed his swords. He saw the Aslan figure flicker, and flash. This made him stop, mid-bow in confusing.
"Your Majesty?"
The Lion shifted again, flickering in its place. It's mouth opened wide, revealing a pair of sharp teeth. Sylyr shifted back, horrified. The Lion continued to open his mouth. Now, the insides of his mouth – now turned a dark-flimsy substance flooded over the Lion figure. Sylyr stepped away, shocked.
It was too late. The Darkness of the Creature enveloped him.
Helda and Zarin, clutching one another, watched the happenings from atop the hill. When it as over, they both audibly inhaled sharply, and sprinted into the woods.
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They ran and ran, up out of the village and into the forest. No one stop them. Nothing chased them. Only hurt and pain, loss and worry accompanied the twins.
It felt like hours and hours later when Helda pulled her brother down for a rest. They made good speed, both thought, for the time being. They decided to spend the night, hoping someone would find them.
Moments later, once their breath had slowed, something cracked on the edge of their hiding place.
It cut through the silence, burned through their hearts, made their souls bounce inside them. I frightened both children.
"Stay still," Zarin, the older of the two, whispered.
Both stayed still, remaining cornered to the side of their little cave.
"They're in here, sir!" a voice whispered.
Both children jumped.
"Take them, Gerd."
A sniffling sound clawed its way into the confined space. Zarn reached for a rock, and sidled along the side of the cave. He put his finger to his slips, the universal signal for silence.
"C'mere, c'mere, ya nasty turds!"
A Wolf entered Zarin's peripherals. If only he could…
The stone was heavy in the boy's hands.
Just…drop it…
And like a game of skipping stones, Zarin threw his heavy rock onto the Wolf's back.
The thing yelped and fell silent. For good.
PAGE. BREAK. HERE.
Dazed, Daleen found himself not in the tent with his king and queen.
Where were they? Those blo—
No. No bad words. They didn't deserve them.
Then, I'm the bloody idiot. King Peter and Orieus are going to kill me. Simultaneously.
Daleen continued to battle with his thoughts while he glanced around.
He saw plenty of trees. And no huts. No shops. No signs of royalty.
Just trees.
I. Am. The. Bloody. Idiot!
Huffing, Daleen put his nose to the ground and sniffed. He didn't smell them, only the aroma of fresh pine and woodland creatures. The smells of earthy ground and rushing water. The smells of burning fire…
Burning fire!
He sprinted towards the smell, debating his fate once more in his mind.
PAGE. BREAK. HERE.A few things:
Aslan wasn't Aslan. He was in that body because he was seen through Sylyr's eyes that saw a Boggart. THIS information was only taken from Harry Potter, but I'm pretty sure Boggarts are real mythical creatures. If they aren't, creds to JKR for her inventions.
Nelson's currently in a bigger pickle than you would think. You'll find that out tomorrow (or the next day).
I forgot what kind of Creature I had made Sylyr. So he's now officially a Centaur. 'Scure the stupidity.
We finally had a fighting scene…sort of.
I already rambled for the day. Lucky you.
Thanks! G'nigh'. Time to go teach myself how to do math proofs for formulas. Yay…!