Disclaimer: I own nothing except the Guardians, Ava Rydia, Melody, and Sinaaq. Amarok is a mythological creature and is not of my creation.

Note: In this chapter, the focus will turn to Caspian for a short time.

Songs for this chapter: Elements by Lindsey Stirling, Snow White Queen by Evanescence

Chapter 5: Ava Meets Amarok

The southern sun was still rising, peeking through the clouds for the first time in weeks. Some areas of the forest still had snow on the ground while others were glistening with dew. Today, Ava had decided to take her horse, Dorchadas, out for a ride. It had been a long time since he was able to get some exercise, due to the storms. Besides, she wanted to do a sweep of the land and see how much damage had been done.

As she rode, she grew more and more troubled. There were trees that had been struck by lightning, trees that had been burned, and trees that had been uprooted altogether. There were small fissures in the ground from where the earth had shifted and there were rocks that had shattered. This was just the start of it. Plants that were still alive had taken over; everything was enveloped by large vines with thorns and toxic flowers. It was as if the forest was going wild.

The more she saw, the harder she dug her heels into Dorchadas' sides to make him canter. She flew through the woods, steering her horse around trees and jumping over logs. When she reached the river, she stopped at a halt. There was barely any water left, despite the heavy rains. The water level had lowered drastically, to the point where she could see the riverbed underneath. Ava could only stare in shock. Things were escalating quickly—more so than she had originally thought.

She dismounted her horse and climbed down the edge of the bank, splashing into the river; it only came up to her shins now. As she stared at the water trickling along, a water spirit formed and stared up at her. The creature said nothing; she merely stared at Ava pitifully. As the river wasted away, so would all the nymphs and spirits that inhabited it.

"I'm so sorry," Ava whispered, not knowing what else to say.

The spirit gave her one last look, and then dissolved into the river again. Ava pinched the bridge of her nose to stifle the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. She needed to return to the palace; she couldn't afford to break down now.

As she cantered back to Cair Paravel, she kept going over everything that needed done as soon as possible. At the top of her list was searching through the scrolls in the library to find more information on the Guardians, if there was any. She needed to know how to find the next ones.

She remembered reading that every generation of Guardians was chosen when the previous generation ended their reign. Queen Elizabeth and King Tyler had vanished without a trace and no one else had been called since then. They were the last Warrior and Heart; they'd had power over water and light. Normally, an entirely new pair of titles and elements would be given to the next generation, but the whole world was on a sort of reset and needed all the elements and titles to be brought forth. This could possibly mean starting with the Shepherd; one might need to be brought forth to awaken the others. But how did one create a Shepherd from nothing? Without Aslan, how could someone gain the powers of a Guardian?

Next on her list, and something she was not looking forward to in the slightest, was Sinaaq's hearing. She was in no mood to deal with his smartass remarks today, but the trial was tomorrow as Caspian had wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. She slowed Dorchadas to a trot; she was becoming more engrossed in her thoughts when a low growl sounded through the woods and echoed off the trees.

Ava slowed her horse to a halt and looked around, but she couldn't see anything through the thick vegetation around her. Her senses now on high alert, she removed her bow from her back and grabbed an arrow from her quiver, nocking it and drawing it back, but leaving it pointed at the ground, ready to fire if needed. She tried to listen, but her hearing had never been particularly good, and her heart was pounding in her ears.

Another growl, more menacing than the first, sounded—much closer this time. Dorchadas started to snort and paw at the ground with his hooves, his ears pinned back towards his head, only twitching when a noise was made. His nostrils flared and the whites of his eyes were beginning to show. Ava couldn't hold the reins and her bow at the same time, so she made sure her legs gripped him firmly in case he decided to run. Her heart pounded faster and sweat broke out down her spine, making her padded, navy blue ranging coat a little hot inside. Another growl, much louder, ending in a sort of howl, sounded so close it couldn't have come from more than a few feet away.

Dorchadas, now completely frightened, let out a blood-curdling neigh and reared up suddenly. Ava, caught completely off-guard, tumbled backwards off his back, her bow flying from her hands after the arrow she had nocked had been shot into the dirt.

Her head hit the ground hard and, for a moment, her vision blurred and her mind swam. When she could see clearly again, she kicked her legs up, using her hands to push off from the ground, and landed on her feet in a crouch, her eyes darting every which way. Her horse had run away, judging by the hoof prints, in the direction of Cair Paravel. Her bow was lying a few feet away, and the arrows from her quiver were scattered over the forest floor. She stood up straight and walked to her bow, bending to pick it up, and that was when she heard it: the sound of leaves crunching breaking the silence…right behind her.

She froze, hearing heavy breathing and a low rumbling too close for comfort. She gripped her bow tightly in her right hand, swallowing hard. She tried to be sneaky and whip around to surprise her assailant, and failed.

Before she could think, a large mass of fur and fangs charged her, knocking the bow from her hand and spinning her around. When her eyes focused again, she was face to face with the largest wolf she had ever seen; it was at least the size of her horse! Its eyes were silver and its fur was the color of snow. Hot breath blew from its nostrils, making puffs in the cool air as it stared her down. Ava was frozen in place. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. Surely, this would be the end of her.

"A tender thing like you should not be out all by yourself," the wolf spoke, surprising her with its distorted, snarling voice. She opened her mouth to reply, but couldn't make any noise come out. If she cried for help, she would probably have her throat ripped out. The wolf stepped forward. Ava mirrored it and stepped back.

"Ah, ah, we both know you cannot outrun me, little one. You will make your death much quicker if you just cooperate."

"W-who are you?" Ava stammered, finding her voice. She tried to force herself to think of an escape plan, but she wasn't finding one.

"I am Amarok, spirit of the snows," the wolf replied, stepping closer still. Ava's brow furrowed slightly as she shifted in place.

"Spirit of the snows? I'm afraid I've never heard of you. Where do you hail from? Why are you here?" she asked, trying to stop her voice from shaking.

"I am from very far North, where the giants live. I have come here searching for a man—a man I intend to kill," Amarok answered.

"Who is this man? I might know him. After all, it is my business to know of everyone in Narnia," Ava said, stalling while she continued to search for an escape.

It was then that her fingertips brushed against the ivory horn that hung at her waist. Queen Susan's horn! She had completely forgotten she was carrying it. Caspian had given her the horn for times when she went out alone. If she could just be fast enough to get one blow into it, maybe…it wasn't a very good idea, but neither were the odds that she would survive this encounter. Still, it was something.

"Sinaaq," the wolf replied simply.

Ava froze, her fingertips still touching the horn. The wolf was hunting Sinaaq? How many wolves had he killed to cause this spirit to seek vengeance on him? Though, as these thoughts entered her mind, she knew there had to be more to it than that, for Amarok did not seem to be on the side of good and Sinaaq seemed no more than a scoundrel at worst.

"I have a man named Sinaaq in my dungeons. What do you want him for?" she asked, managing to hide her fear this time. She stood up straighter, trying to show her authority.

"It is because of him that I am trapped in this form! I cannot be free until he dies," Amarok replied, snarling in anger.

Ava tried not to jump as her thoughts raced. She had so many questions that needed answered. The large wolf spoke again.

"If you bring me to Sinaaq, I may let you live, tiny one."

The emphasis on her height was really getting old. Now she had a choice to make: she could buy herself more time by bringing Amarok to Sinaaq, which may let her formulate a plan, or she could say no and risk dying now. The wolf probably would not let her out of his sight to retrieve the prisoner. What to do? She knew nothing of Sinaaq. She did not know his past, if he had a family, or if he really was the murderer she thought him to be. Letting him die at the hands of this monster should not matter to her right? As soon as she thought that, however, her conscience told her that she was wrong. There was only one way to find out.

"Hmm…the offer seems so enticing," Ava said, pretending to think. "I think, sir wolf, that I will have to respectfully…decline."

Quickly, she yanked the horn from her belt, breaking the worn leather straps in the process, and put it to her lips. She managed to get one good blow on it before the wolf barreled into her, knocking the wind out of her and pinning her to the ground. The horn was thrown from her hand; she didn't see where it landed. Her head ached fiercely and she swore she had hit it on a rock or a tree root. Her vision was spotty and she couldn't seem to focus as the wolf hovered over her, his breath smelling of blood and death. The last thing she heard was Amarok's voice in her ear.

"Give my regards to Sinaaq," he snarled. With those words, he sank his teeth into her left shoulder. The pain was too much and soon, she lost consciousness.

Caspian found Ava unconscious and lying in a pool of what appeared to be her own blood. Her head and her left shoulder had been bleeding for Aslan-knew how long and had not stopped. He bent over her, checking her neck for a pulse. It was there, but very faint. If he did not get her to the infirmary soon, she would die. Thankfully, he had Queen Lucy's cordial on him, which he only used for the direst of situations—those of which were rare. He took the stopper out of the vessel and tilted Ava's head so her lips would part.

He tipped the vial carefully and tapped it until a drop fell into her mouth, then he put the stopper in it and returned it to his belt. He waited on baited breath for the cordial to take effect. Slowly, the wound in Ava's shoulder healed until the only sign that it had ever been there was the blood on her clothes and skin. Caspian carefully checked her head, just to be certain, and found it also healed. Now she needed to wake up.

The king sat there, cradling his advisor in his arms to keep her warm, hoping she would wake, but the woman did not stir once. Rather than wait in the woods, in the dark, for her to awaken, he picked her up carefully and carried her to his horse. Gently, he draped her body across the saddle, and then climbed on. He held her across his lap and cantered—which was smoother than trotting and much faster—back to Cair Paravel.

"What in Aslan's name did this to her?" he wondered aloud.