Author's Note: You might recognise me from my previous pen-name NarnianFairy. I want to start by saying a huge thank you very much & online hugs to everyone who had followed my journey in the Chronicles of Narnia fandom so far. I am so thankful to each and every one of you who had previously followed/favourite/reviewed/DM'd me concerning my works, especially about Aline and A Place in this World. You have been my most favourite notifications and the fact that I still kept writing despite starting this fic almost a decade ago in 2014. With that said, I must apologize for the sudden disappearance of my previous account, the reason behind the abrupt change was a deeply personal decision to move on from my previous online identity. Over time I felt the need for a fresh start for my writing that has most definitely evolved since the inception of this fanfic and I want a platform that reflects that growth and change in my writing style and interests.
With this fresh start I am beyond excited to give Aline and this Narnian Love Story a fresh start! So, I know I was pretty bad with updates, sometimes it being once in six months but this time, I assure you the story is already complete so am excited to actually deliver on the fortnightly update schedule as promised! There is a lot of change, lot of re-vamping, lot of plot details changed and lots more addition to the universe, I am excited to have you guys read this! Thank you very much for your understanding and the continued support. Do let me know what you think!
PROLOGUE
It felt like just another ordinary summer day with not a single cloud in the sky or the faintest hint of rain. A lonely figure was seen crossing the street, headphones in her ear playing nothing but silence. She preferred it that way cherishing this solitude; it shielded her from unwelcome interruptions.
"Yo, Aline!" the girl heard someone call from behind, "walking back home?"
Talk about unwelcome interruptions.
She didn't bother dignifying it with an answer, instead her pace quickened as her hands clenched tight into fists. She knew that voice all too well—Jason Lance, her brother's best friend, the one she'd once had a crush on, until last year at least. But responding would only invite more trouble.
Soon, she felt his footsteps drawing nearer, and she broke into a run, faint laughter trailing behind her as she approached a dead-end.
"Why do you always run, Aline?" he asked with an unsettling calmness in his voice. "I wouldn't dare harm you. You know that."
She spun around, her determination solidifying. She was tired—tired of fleeing, tired of being afraid, tired of feeling weak. She yanked her arm from his grip. "Don't you dare touch me," she warned.
In a mocking tone, he retorted, "And what will you do? Maybe hit me?"
Without a word, Aline surprised both herself and Jason as her fist connected with his face in a flash. She heard something crack beneath her knuckles, and pain shot up her arm. She groaned, cradling her throbbing hand, but when she raised her gaze, it was worth it.
Stumbling back, Jason was taken aback, blood trickling from his nose. Aline dodged his clumsy grab and sprinted home, not stopping until she reached the safety of her doorstep. Dread coursed through her as the scent of alcohol hit her even before she saw Samuel sprawled on the couch, surrounded by empty bottles and an Xbox controller in hand, barely acknowledging her arrival.
Then she heard it, "Bro! The b**** punched me!"
"Damn it," she thought, almost sensing her brother's anger fueled by substances as he rushed past the kitchen and up the stairs.
She paced the length of her room, her fingers tangled in her hair, fighting back tears. The pain in her hand was excruciating, but her greater fear was what would happen now that she had provoked her brother. Jason didn't worry her, not in the least. Samuel, on the other hand..
No one would believe her, not even their own mother. When she'd tried to tell her, it was Sam who hurt her and not the other way around, Elisa Frank would only shoo her away and instead dote after her precious son.
From the other side of the door, a string of profanities reached her ears. "Damn you, Aline! I know you're in there. Open the door, or I'll break it down, and trust me, you do not want that. You really don't."
She could almost visualize his maniacal grin, realizing there was no use in hiding. He knew she was there. The door shuddered before finally giving in to the relentless battering. Samuel stormed in like a raging beast, his eyes devoid of innocence and burning with pure hatred. She winced when she saw James follow behind, his nose smeared with dried blood from what she had inflicted.
"Sam..." Jason began, his hand reaching for Samuel's back as he met Aline's gaze, a hint of pity in his eyes. "Let it go, I'm fine."
Samuel merely shrugged off his hand without acknowledging his words.
Aline quivered in her corner like a cornered animal, her legs trembling. She closed her eyes just as a cheshire grin spread up his face. The last thing she saw was Samuel grab a ceramic vase as Jason's arms went around his back- the image etched to the back of her eyelids before a sharp pain coursed through the side of her head, slowly spreading like a monster stretching his claws.
Her legs gave in and black spots danced in her vision as she fell down bracing herself for the impact of the cool floor, but it never came. Instead she felt her head hit something soft and the smell of fresh spring hit her hard. She only had time the think, what have I done? Before the darkness pulled her within, and she sank gratefully, not knowing when, or for that matter whether, she would wake up again. But that was alright with her. That was what she wanted. Wasn't it?
Rain pelted by the buckets on the Narnian King as he made his way through a particular winding path well masked by magick to any unknowing eyes on his way to Oureborus, the fortress on the hill in the middle of the ocean. Few alive knew of its existence, much less it's precise location or its' proximity to the Cair.
"Your Majesty," bowed the centaur soldiers posted on either sides of the large bronze doors- the only way in or out of the stronghold- their heads bowed and backs straight despite the chilling cold sea spray drenching them throughout.
"Baleos!" General Oreius' familiar voice boomed across the halls as he hurried in wrapping the cloak around him even tighter.
"Get the fire burning in the East Tower, do hurry. And get Lady Araminta to brew a cup of tea, we have a freezing Monarch on our doorsteps."
And then turning to the King himself, an almost amused expression on his face, "Maybe it's time you accepted a room made up for you here, King Edmund."
"I may take you up on that offer, General but we do not want a civil war breaking out once Peter finds out of your favoritism."
General Oreius chuckled.
"I shall take my leave then, your Majesty. The scrolls as you requested are in the East Tower's study."
"Thank you, General."
"By the way," he called, "you might want to take a look at the stars tonight, Vulcan is shining especially bright in his whirl with Vesta."
And so, King Edmund made his way up the spiral stairs to the East Tower to find the fire ablaze and Araminta's special tea by the table with a side of biscuits which he fully intended on devouring, but first- he drew out a parchment from his pocket. He needed to see to something.
The shadows moved on the ancient scripts and scrolls surrounding him as one candle waned and he lit another. Edmund remembered with a jolt of General Oreius' suggestion. It was the time of the year where the paths of the twin planets Vulcan and Vesta crossed across each other when for a slight moment in time, as when witnessed from Narnia, they were one.
By the window of the highest East Tower, salt air parting through his hair, King Edmund almost smiled to himself even as he witnessed the cosmic event end and the two seperate onto their own parallel paths. He hoped Lucy managed to drag Susan and Peter so they'd not miss it this time at least. That was when something caught his eye- off into the distance shone a bright light that lasted only a second. Almost as if a spontaneous fire erupted to only be extinguished even as it took form. Glancing out there he could make out the general vicinity of the area. Circe's Circle, he realized. Perhaps the Dryads of Old were up to something? He looked back to the open parchments and papyrus bound scrolls in front of him. That feeling he'd been feeling a lot of lately especially the past few days returned once more to the pits of his stomach. As did his sense of responsibility towards the Circle.
With not a second thought, the King drew his cloak.
Shakily, he stood up. Blood coated both his hands as he stared at them in front of him. He barely felt the slight rain pouring around him or the fact that he was now stone cold sober.
He screamed into the void. A gut wrenching howl.
Samuel could barely make sense of what happened or where he was or even how everything had changed in the blink of an eye. All he knew was that he'd done something bad. Very bad.
He began running. Samuel ran through the clearing, into the trees and then ran some more until his legs gave out from under him. And by the time it did he found himself on his knees, blood drenched hands still held in front of him. He brought them down, striking them onto the rock he'd stumbled upon as if he wanted to break them right off his arm.
"Aline." he whispered one last time. "What have I done?"