“Treachery! They shot him! They murdered our king! To arms!” Sopespian's shout echoed through the battlefield, a vicious lie that set the Telmarines ablaze with fury.

“Peter!” Caspian’s voice cut through the chaos as he pointed behind Peter.

In a swift motion, Susan loosed her arrow, striking down the Telmarine soldier before he could reach Peter.

There was a brief exchange of relieved glances, but there was no time to linger. Peter turned back to the unfolding battle, his grip tightening on his sword.

August stood a few paces behind, her gaze fixed on the scene before her. The chaos, the betrayal—it all made sense now.

Her chest tightened as the words from the prophecy echoed in her mind. "Treachery shall reign." This was it. It wasn’t just about Miraz; it was about everything unraveling here, on this battlefield.

Her breath caught. “This is what the prophecy meant,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the clashing steel and war cries. Peter heard her, turning slightly.

“What?” he asked, but she shook her head.

“I knew... I knew this was coming,” she murmured, more to herself than to him. “'Treachery shall reign'. Not just Miraz’s betrayal, but this—Sopespian’s lie, the fall of everything.”

Peter didn’t fully understand her words, but the weight in her voice was unmistakable.

“We’ll fix this,” he said, his voice steady, though a flicker of uncertainty passed through his eyes.

The Telmarines charged, leaving no room for doubt.

As the Telmarines closed in, Peter looked back toward Caspian, who was now mounted and leading the charge of Narnians.

His eyes found August for a brief moment, and she felt the connection between them—a strange, unspoken bond born of everything they had endured together.

Caspian’s gaze softened as it lingered on her, the chaos of battle momentarily forgotten.

In that fleeting moment, she felt the weight of her visions—the past, the future, all converging here.

She had seen this moment before, and yet standing in it felt overwhelming.

“Stay safe,” Caspian mouthed, too far for his words to reach her ears.

August nodded, her heart pounding not just from the battle, but from the intensity of his gaze.

She clenched her fists, bracing herself as the sounds of war surrounded her.

Glozelle rode back towards the Telmarine army, shouting, "To arms, Telmar! To arms!" The Telmarines raised their weapons and cheered, and Glozelle continued, "Cavalry... attack!"

As the Telmarines charged, Peter glanced back at Caspian, who had ridden into the How on horseback, where hundreds of Narnians waited inside.

"Archers to the ready!" Susan called, and the Narnian archers put arrows to their strings.

"Narnians! Charge!" Caspian ordered. Leading the way, the Narnians charged down a tunnel beneath the battlefield.

August stood beside Peter and Caspian, feeling the weight of the moment.

She had seen this in her dreams, and the prophecy echoed in her mind. "Lives will be lost, and treachery shall reign..." The familiar lines rushed back to her, igniting a sense of urgency within her.

Peter started counting, “One... two... three...”

August joined in, “Four... five... six...” She exchanged a determined glance with Caspian, her heart racing. “Seven…”

“Take your aim!” Susan demanded, and August focused her thoughts.

She recited the prophecy in her mind, "Guided by echoes of the Kings and Queens of old..." The words felt like a lifeline, reminding her of the stakes.

“Eight... nine... Get ready!” Peter ordered, his gaze fierce.

“Now!” Caspian shouted, and the Narnians underground began smashing the stone pillars. August knew this was their moment.

The ground collapsed, and most of the Telmarine horses fell into the pit. “Now!” Susan yelled, and arrows rained down, striking the Telmarines below.

At the end of the underground tunnel, two dwarfs lowered a platform.

Caspian led the Narnians out into the sun, circling around to face the Telmarine cavalry.

A soldier climbed out of the pit, staring wide-eyed at Reepicheep in armor. “You're... a mouse,” he stated incredulously.

“You people have no imaginations!” Reepicheep shouted, charging forward as the battle continued.

Peter looked up at Susan, worry etched on his face. “Lucy...” he muttered. Susan shook her head, scanning the area for their sister.

August clenched her fists, her voice steady as she recited, “With visions that weave the wisdom of the past, she’ll light the way for hope to outlast.” She felt a surge of strength coursing through her.

Peter raised his sword, shouting, “Back to the How!” The Narnians began retreating toward Aslan's How, determination in their eyes.

“Cut off their escape!” Sopespian ordered. The Telmarine trebuchets launched rocks at the How, debris raining down around them.

“Brace yourself!” Susan yelled as the ground beneath them began to crumble.

August felt her heart race as she narrowly avoided falling debris. She moved quickly, rallying nearby archers. “We need to keep fighting! Don’t lose hope!”

When Susan slipped and fell to the next level, Trumpkin caught her, and Caspian and Peter exchanged worried glances.

They were surrounded, and the Telmarines were closing in.

“Crush them all,” Sopespian ordered. Edmund drew his sword, and with a fierce battle cry, Peter led the charge.

Amidst the chaos, August remembered another line from the prophecy: "Yet through her dreams, a union will remain." The vision of the union she had seen flashed in her mind, fueling her determination.

She knew they would find a way through this, together.

With renewed resolve, August fought beside her friends, each clash of swords echoing the strength of their bond, a testament to the dreams she held dear.

                            ~~~•~~~

August fought fiercely alongside Peter and Caspian, her muscles burning with every swing of her blade.

The battlefield was chaos—Telmarines and Narnians clashing all around her. She kept Peter and Caspian within her sight, knowing how critical this battle was.

But even as she fought, a strange sense of familiarity tugged at the back of her mind, a feeling that she had seen this moment before in one of her dreams.

Then, without warning, the ground beneath her feet gave way. She barely had time to register the shock before she plummeted into the pit.

She landed hard, pain erupting in her body, and the world around her blurred.

Her consciousness began to fade, but in those fleeting moments, she realized something: A vision was coming.

As darkness closed in, her vision began to shift.

The sounds of the battlefield disappeared, replaced by the pounding of hooves.

When her eyes opened again, she was no longer in the pit. Instead, she found herself watching Lucy ride through the forest, a Telmarine hot on her trail.

And then, there he was.

Aslan leapt out from the trees, his roar echoing through the forest as he knocked the Telmarine off his horse.

Lucy ran to him, just as August had seen before, throwing her arms around the lion.

As August watched, the scene unfolded exactly as her dream had foretold. Lucy clung to Aslan, the relief evident in her voice as she spoke.

"I knew it was you. The whole time, I knew it. But the others wouldn't believe me," Lucy said, her voice full of quiet conviction.

"And why would that stop you from coming to me?" Aslan's voice was gentle but firm, his golden eyes glowing with wisdom.

"I'm sorry. I was too scared to come alone. Why haven't you shown yourself? I thought you'd come roaring in to save us like last time."

"Things never happen the same way twice," Aslan replied, his tone carrying both reassurance and a hint of warning.

Lucy hesitated, her face falling. "If I had come earlier... everyone who died... could I have stopped that?"

Aslan shook his head slowly, his voice soft. "We can never know what would have happened, Lucy. But what will happen is another matter entirely."

"You'll help?" Lucy asked, her hope renewed.

"Of course, as will you."

"Oh, well I wish I was braver," Lucy whispered.

"If you were any braver, you'd be a lioness." Aslan’s smile was warm, his words full of affection. "Now, I think your friends have slept long enough, don't you?"

With that, Aslan let out a mighty roar that echoed through the forest, shaking the very ground.

The power of it surged through August like a wave, pulling her back to reality.

August gasped and awoke, the roar still ringing in her ears.

She was back in the pit, her body aching and bruised, but the memory of Aslan’s words burned in her mind.

She knew now what she had to do. Everything was falling into place—just as the prophecy had foretold.

                              ~~~•~~~

August groaned as she regained consciousness, the deafening roar of Aslan reverberating in her ears.

Blinking against the bright light filtering into the pit, she became aware of the chaos around her.

The sounds of battle echoed, but it was the weight of her own injuries that truly grounded her.

A sharp pain in her side reminded her of the fight she had just been part of.

She winced as she tried to sit up, her vision clearing to reveal Caspian, who had just fallen into the pit.

"Caspian!" she shouted, scrambling to her feet. She could see the Telmarines regrouping, and every second counted.

Peter was already there, his strong hands reaching down to pull Caspian up.

The urgency in August's voice seemed to cut through the chaos. She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins as she rushed to help, gripping Caspian's arm tightly.

Their eyes met, and for a brief moment, everything else faded away. The connection between them sparked, a mix of worry and unspoken understanding.

Caspian looked at her, gratitude and something deeper flickering in his gaze. "I—" he began, but Peter’s voice broke through their moment.

“C’mon! We need to move!” Peter urged, pulling Caspian up from the pit and then reaching down to help August.

Together, they scrambled up, the sounds of battle drawing closer.

As they regrouped, August could feel the weight of the prophecy pressing down on her.

She had seen glimpses of this moment in her dreams, flashes of the chaos that surrounded them now.

“We can turn the tide,” she murmured, recalling the words of the prophecy she knew by heart.

Once back on solid ground, she glanced at Caspian, who was brushing dirt from his tunic.

“Are you okay?” she asked, concern lacing her tone. He nodded, but she could see the determination in his eyes. He was ready to fight.

“Let’s go,” he said, and with a nod from Peter, they charged back into the fray, their hearts beating as one against the onslaught of the Telmarines.

As they fought side by side, August felt a surge of power within her, her wounds momentarily forgotten in the heat of battle.

Every strike of her sword, every dodge of an enemy blow, felt like an echo of her dreams, leading them closer to their destiny.

She fought fiercely, not just for herself, but for the bond she felt growing between her and Caspian—a bond that would prove crucial in the battles to come.

With Caspian at her side, August knew they had to get to the river.

The weight of the prophecy pressed heavily on her mind, but together, they could turn the tide of this war.

The battle raged on around them, but August felt a strange calm within the storm.

With every swing of her sword, she could almost hear the words of the prophecy resonating in her mind, guiding her movements.

“A maiden shall rise, her power unchained…” The adrenaline coursing through her veins ignited her spirit, pushing her to fight harder.

“Caspian!” she shouted over the din, dodging a Telmarine soldier's swing. “We need to push them toward the river! That’s where we can turn this fight!”

He nodded, his face set with determination. “Lead the way!” he called back, and together they fought through the ranks of Telmarines, cutting a path toward the riverbank.

With every step, August could feel the air shift around them, as if the very land was responding to their efforts.

The trees that had come to life earlier seemed to sense their urgency, moving closer to help them fend off their enemies.

A massive branch swiped at a group of Telmarines, sending them tumbling to the ground.

“Keep moving!” Peter urged, rallying behind them. The Narnians were regrouping, and the tide of the battle seemed to be turning.

As they neared the river, August spotted a group of soldiers lining up to confront them.

“Now!” she shouted, her voice filled with conviction. She recalled the details of her vision—“Through her dreams, a union will remain…” It wasn't just about winning; it was about coming together, uniting their strengths against a common foe.

August and Caspian charged ahead, side by side, their movements synchronized as if they had trained for this moment their entire lives.

She could feel the heat radiating off him, his presence solid and reassuring.

They reached the edge of the river, the water glimmering ominously beneath the chaotic sky. “This is it!” she yelled, raising her sword.

Suddenly, a Telmarine soldier lunged at August from behind. She barely had time to react as she felt a sharp pain slice through her arm.

She gritted her teeth, refusing to let it slow her down. Caspian was there in an instant, blocking the soldier’s next attack and then turning to her with concern etched on his face.

“August! Are you hurt?” His voice was low, but she could hear the urgency beneath it.

“It’s just a scratch,” she lied, though she could feel the blood trickling down her arm. “We need to keep going. They’re falling back!” She fought through the pain, knowing that every moment mattered.

Caspian hesitated for a heartbeat, then nodded, determination shining in his eyes. “Then let’s end this!”

They charged forward, reaching the riverbank, where Peter was directing the Narnians to form a defensive line.

The Telmarines were retreating, confused by the sudden shift in the battle.

August could feel the weight of the prophecy bearing down on her, the importance of this moment solidifying in her mind.

“Stand strong!” Peter called, rallying the troops. “This is our moment! We fight for Narnia!”

August's heart raced as she saw the water beneath them begin to ripple and shift, the magic of Narnia alive and thrumming in the air.

She turned to Caspian, who was standing beside her, his sword drawn and his expression fierce.

“Together,” he said, his voice steady.

“Together,” she echoed, feeling the bond between them strengthen.

They stood shoulder to shoulder, ready to face whatever came next. Aslan’s roar echoed in the distance, a powerful reminder of their cause.

The river surged as if in response to their resolve.

The surface shimmered, then shot up, taking form—a majestic river-god, towering above them with a voice that roared like thunder.

The Narnians watched in awe as the deity lifted the bridge, sending Telmarine soldiers tumbling into the rushing water below.

Sopespian, panicked and realizing the tide had turned against him, swung his sword wildly as he stood precariously on the bridge, the river-god grasping it in its watery hands.

With a final crash of water, the bridge collapsed beneath him, and he was swallowed by the river’s wrath.

The Telmarines who had not yet fled found themselves at the mercy of the river, the once-mighty soldiers now helpless against the magic that surrounded them.

August, still standing beside Caspian, felt her heart race as the tide shifted in their favor.

They charged forward, weapons raised, as the Narnians rallied behind them.

The magic of the river surged in response to their resolve, and with each step, August felt the weight of the prophecy pressing on her, the significance of this moment urging her onward.

August could see the Telmarines hesitating, fear etched across their faces as they beheld the river-god wreaking havoc upon their ranks.

They were retreating, confusion settling in as the Narnians pressed forward.

Aslan’s roar reverberated through the air, a powerful reminder of their cause, instilling courage in their hearts.

With one final rallying cry, they surged into the fray, ready to reclaim their home, their friends, and the future that awaited them.