Prompt #2: Contradict yourself.
Contronyms are words that are their own antonyms. Choose one from the list here (Dailywritingtips DOT com/75-contronyms-words-with-contradictory-meanings/), or find one you like, and use both its meanings in your work.
† Who Is On the Lion's Side? †
19 OCTOBER 1016
366 DAYS AFTER THE BANISHMENT…
It was a drizzly autumn afternoon and a crowd of Narnians stood before the Beruna courthouse.
The place had four walls and a roof, but everything beyond the shattered windows was in ruins. Tables were overturned and chairs were broken. Platters and bowls and cups were thrown against the walls and reduced to shards. Barrels formerly full of beer and mead had been drained and broken, and the sights and smells of vomit were everywhere.
"Look well," said Philip with a whinny. "This is the sort of thing that happens when Talking Beasts run amok. If any of us take the thrones of Narnia, it won't be any better—"
A wave of groans and eye rolls cut him off.
"Now look here!" said the horse. "Don't you see what's happened? We've had a year to prove ourselves, and our countrymen ruined an ancient hall. We can't rule ourselves the way we ought. We need a Son of Adam—"
The rainy air was filled with groans and jeers. "We came all this way for that?" "We could have heard all that back home." "Thanks for wasting our time, you bloviating oaf." And one by one, all turned about and trotted back through the grass, leaving Philip open-mouthed and despondent.
There was a rustle of wings and leaves as a kestrel lighted on the limb of a tree. He stared dully at Philip, then looked over the horse's shoulder at the courthouse. "Well, that went as well as could be expected."
Philip let out a cynical scoff. "The least you could have done is be here, Egan."
"To what end? They won't hear anything you have to say; what makes you think they'd have listened to me?"
The horse let out a rueful sigh and turned back to the courthouse. "Do we know who did this?"
"We don't," said the kestrel snidely. "Fortunately, we know who's attacking our children now...thanks to you."
Philip swung around and went wide-eyed at the bird. "What are you talking about?"
"When I was out looking for these traitors last night—on your order, might I add—my family was paid a little visit by one of our enemies. Adler the eagle threw them out of our nest, and he proceeded to tear it to pieces. When he was done, he left a note that said, 'If you keep hunting us, you and your family will never be safe.' I saw my wife and hatchlings huddling in the trunk of a tree. They were frightened out of their wits."
"Egan, I'm sorry," said Philip in whisper. "But listen: We have to warn everyone. We have to put it all to rights—"
"What do you mean, we?" said the kestrel with a bitter tone. "There is no we. There's just you and me."
"I know, my friend. But with Aslan, we're a majority. Aslan has chosen a King, and that King will sit on the throne. And if we want that King on the throne, we must confront this madness—"
"This is the end, Philip," said Egan. "We can't keep going on like this. You're not lecturing a King on the finer points of law. You're in a war. Until Aslan appoints a new King, my family is more important than Narnia. And if I may add, so are you. I reckon it's time you start acting like it." With a dark glare and a half-hearted apology, he flared his wings and leapt into the rainy air.
Egan's right, said Philip somberly. Tens of thousands of Talking Beasts, and only a handful willing to fight. With that sort of prospect, we might as well be fighting an incoming tide. And with a sigh of surrender, he turned away from the courthouse and set off across the grasslands.
Just as he got through the trees, he saw a leopard padding up along the path, and the horse went still and cold.
He and the leopard had been friends since the return of spring. Juma was Aslan's crown-bearer and a courtier in Cair Paravel, and Philip was King Edmund's steed and a favorite tutor. When the leopard and the horse weren't keeping Cair Paravel running, they were always telling stories and sharing jokes and carrying on well after the sun had gone in. But now that the Kings and Queens were gone, Juma had drawn away. Philip didn't know why, but he knew something was amiss, and he knew that quite well when he invited Juma to come with him to Beruna and was answered with a curt rejection.
And now, when Philip's eyes met the leopard's, the two stopped in midstride. No words were said, but the looks on their faces were enough. Juma knew what Philip was doing, and Philip didn't have to say a word. And for a moment, there was a drizzly and chilly pause as their tails swished in the rainy air.
"Who's left, Philip?" said the leopard.
"I don't know if you're blind or daft, but everyone's gone home—"
"I mean, who's left?" said the leopard. "Who is on the Lion's side?"
"It doesn't matter. If they don't care about Narnia, I reckon we shouldn't either."
"If we were having this conversation yesterday, I would have agreed," said Juma. "But after what happened last night, everything has changed. We have enemies in our midst, and all they want is a revolution. They've destroyed an ancient courthouse, and now they're going after our children. We have no Kings, no Queens, no Constables or police worth the name. Come now, cousin, we can't give up! Who is working with you? What have you learned?"
The horse gave a restless whicker and pawed the ground nervously. He wanted to answer the leopard and bring him into the fold, but something was putting his words in check. There was something strange in Juma's voice—a distant and detached tone—as if the world had caught fire all around him and he didn't care. But the leopard's eyes were hungry and alert for something, and Philip knew he wouldn't accept silence.
"I don't know much," the horse muttered in a weary tone. "But I know a few people. They're still loyal to Aslan. Or, at least, I hope they are."
The leopard drew nearer, eyes and ears rising up in anticipation. "I'm listening."