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𝕭𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐈: 𝖂𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝖂𝐀𝐑

𝕻𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

HER ENTIRE BODY WAS SHAKING FROM the cold. As though the Witch could freeze her surroundings with nothing but a glare of her cold eyes. Still, Ashara refused to let it distract her. She reached for her sword and curled her hand firmly around the hilt. With chattering teeth she stood, narrowing her eyes against the freezing wind that cut straight through her armor and made the grass of the battlefield sway.

The Witch was standing only a few feet away, her back turned to Ashara. She was too occupied with fighting off two Centaurs to notice the young Watcher. Ashara walked over the small layer of snow that covered the ground, her eyes focused on her enemy. She feared that if she looked away and would notice the fallen soldiers around her, she might panic and lose her nerve. So she kept looking at the woman who had dared to invade their country. With her army and her dark magic at her side; ready to wipe them all out.

It had been predicted by Aslan himself. This moment had been written in the history books ages ago but deep down Ashara had always believed they would be able to stop it. She believed they could cheat destiny and change the course of the future. How foolish she'd been. Seeing the White Witch now, with her vicious intentions, Ashara knew there was no way they could beat her. Yet she refused to go down without a fight.

She was holding her sword so tight her knuckles turned white but she barely noticed it and instead kept walking with determined steps towards the woman who came to destroy her home. The Witch had turned the two Centaurs into stone with her staff and was now turning around. When her eyes fell on the young Watcher they glowed with hatred and yet she smiled. She would be happy to kill her and would enjoy every second of it.

A shiver crawled down Ashara's spine, but she forced her fear down by recalling all the fighting lessons she ever had. Briefly her mind wandered to her family. They must be around the battlefield somewhere, trapped in a deadly dance with the enemy. But she had no time to linger on her worries. With a scream she raised her weapon and attacked.

Steel met steel with a loud clang.

Ashara stepped back to gather herself before striking again. She watched every step the Witch made carefully, hoping to discover some sort of weakness in her defense. But the Witch wasn't planning on going down easy. Evil pleasure glistered within her gaze.

Their swords were engaged in a dance of death while the battle raged on around them. Shouts of the warriors and cries of the wounded muddled together inside Ashara's mind but she gritted her teeth and forced herself to focus. She moved to the right to avoid a blow of the Witch"s sword before taking a step forwards and striking again. She could already feel her limbs growing tired but one look at the Witch made her determination fire up inside of her once again. She could not let this woman take her country, she refused to let it happen.

She grabbed her sword with two hands and swung as hard as she could, screaming in anger. Her sudden attack did not seem to scare Jadis much. In fact, it only made her smirk. Shivers crawled down Ashara's spine but she ignored her fear, pushed it away into a small corner of her soul. Steel clashed against steel and Ashara realized she was being driven back, unable to catch her balance. The Witch was winning this fight and they both knew it. Still, if she was going down, she would go down fighting and so she clenched her jaw and tightened her grip on her sword.

Her arms were aching and her sword was becoming heavier with each passing second. Ashara felt her strength failing and knew the end was near. Just then a scream echoed over the battlefield, a heartbreaking scream that tore through her body and rattled her bones. It even took Jadis' attention. The two women turned to look at where the scream came from. As soon as the Witch saw the scene that had unfolded behind them, a wicked smile appeared on her face.

"No..." Ashara mumbled, tears gathering in her eyes.

King Florian was seated on the ground and in his arms he was holding his wife. Blood covered her chest and stained her armor. A spear lay next to her on the ground, the tip shining red.

Queen Danielle was dead.

Everything that happened next came in a blur of tears and a pained heart. The Witch walked with slow but deliberate steps towards the broken King on the ground. He heard her coming but made no attempt to get away from her. Florian didn't move, just held his wife in his arms while tears were streaming down his cheeks. He had lost his will to fight.

The Witch reached him, her sword raised and her features drawn into a snarl. She brought her sword down and Ashara turned her head away, her tears now flowing freely. There was a heavy weight in her chest that pressed on her heart. The shame of her failure was making her stomach ache.

A hand pulled at her arm and immediately she woke from her trance. She turned around with her sword raised, only to calm slightly when she saw it was her father. Relief washed over her like a tidal wave. He looked just as pained as her but his grip still held some strength as he started pulling her away from the battlefield. She didn't understand what was going on but she was too shocked by the turn of events to ask him about it.

She followed him through the field, stepping over the fallen soldiers. Fauns, Dwarves and Centaurs who had once been her friends...

Frustrated, Ashara wiped her tears away but the drops seemed determined to fall anyway. She couldn't hide her pain, there wasn't a corner of her soul deep enough to put it away in. Her grief demanded to be felt and so she gave up trying to dry her tears and walked after her father while sobs left her lips.

They reached the edge of the battlefield where Helios, her horse, was waiting for her and suddenly realization struck Ashara. She struggled in her father's grip but he refused to let go.

"We can't leave, dad!" she screamed, her voice hoarse. "We can't give up!"

He turned around, looking older than he ever had before. "It's over," Arvin sighed.

"No!" she cried out, halfway turned and ready to head back into the battle but her father was faster and managed to pull her back. He held her against his chest as her tears streamed down her cheeks. Her mother was still somewhere on that battlefield, her friends, the future of Narnia...They couldn't possibly give up now.

Helios moved nervously next to them. "Arvin, we need to move," he spoke to her father.

She heard him but could barely register the meaning of his words.

Her father nodded, returning to his calm and practical self. He always knew what to do in situations like this. He always remained calm and collected, ready to sacrifice himself for everyone. Why wouldn't he let her do the same? He moved his hands to hold her face, his fingers wiping away the tears. "You have to be strong, my star. You carry the future of our people now."

She was shaking her head, refusing to listen to his words but he kept talking anyway. He was standing too close for her to block him out. "It's not going to be easy, but you have always been the strongest of us all. You are so brave, my star. Don't you ever forget it."

Ashara stared at him, her sadness slowly turning into anger. She didn't understand why it sounded like he was saying goodbye. She didn't understand why he looked so incredibly sad and she hated that she could not figure it out.

He removed his hands from her face and suddenly she felt cold. She watched as he reached for his sword, pulling it out of its sheath. Her breath caught in her throat as he handed it to her. Their family sword shone brightly in the sunlight, the words of her ancestors were carved with gold into the hilt.

"Rise and rise again," Arvin mumbled as he stared at their most prized possession.

"Until lambs become lions," she added with a whisper.

A sad smile appeared on his age-old features. "Live by these words. If you are ever in need of courage, they will help you find it."

She took the sword in her hand, goosebumps tickled her skin as she did. Even though it was merely a sword, it still felt as though a strong magic was hidden within the blade and a spell lay in the words, waiting to be used.

"Now go," her father said, a sudden urgent tone in his voice.

Ashara no longer fought his attempt to get her away from the battlefield. She knew it was the only choice. At least one of the Golden Watchers had to stay alive to keep the balance of the Deep Magic intact. If the Witch killed all of them, she could use her dark magic freely and Narnia would surely be lost then. And even though she failed to understand why she was the one who had to fulfill this task, there was no time to argue about it now.

Helios stood ready for her and she climbed on his back without hesitation, holding her father's sword, her sword, tightly, as though it was the only thing keeping her alive. Maybe, in some way, it was. Her gaze drifted to him. He had been her mentor and had trained her all her life. He made sure she knew everything there was to know about the Deep Magic. He taught her how to fight, how to be all she could be. The thought of losing him tore her apart.

"Be brave, my star," he said, smiling at her. He didn't await her response, knowing she would not find the right words anyway. What was one to say knowing it was the last thing you ever said? Arvin turned around and with a battle cry so loud it seemed to shatter the sky, he ran back into the chaos of the fight.

Upon seeing him the Narnians that were left gathered behind him and together they marched against the dark creatures and the Witch. It was a hopeless attempt. The battle was already lost and they all knew it. Yet they were taking up arms and shouting battle cries. They would fight until their very last breath.

Tears stung in her eyes as Helios led her away from the battlefield. He rode fast and with purpose. Ashara was too caught up in her grief to ask him where they were going. She simply sat on his back and cried. Her father was going to die on that field. Her mother was probably already dead and who knew what would happen to the others?

Ashara couldn't remember a time Helios had run faster than he was running now. Through the tears that clouded her eyes she looked at her surroundings and then realized where he was taking her. He was riding towards the mountains in the west where a secret castle was built as a shelter in times of war. Any survivors of the battle would gather there to talk about what was to happen next. They would come to her for council. She was going to have to lead them, tell them the answers to questions that were plaguing her too. Though, there was only one option she could think of. To survive they had to bow to the Witch. They had to pronounce Jadis the Queen of Narnia. If not, she would slaughter them all.

The young Watcher refused to see any more people die but she felt sick by the mere thought of proclaiming the White Witch as their Queen. Closing her eyes she took a deep breath, deciding on doing something she had only ever seen her father do. He taught her the steps but she had never managed to do it herself. Maybe the Deep Magic wouldn't even answer her. Had her father not said that magic was a treacherous thing? It was not to be underestimated or used by the weak of heart. Ashara had no idea if the Deep Magic would answer her call but at this very moment she was desperate and couldn't think of another way to protect a country that would now look to her for answers.

She calmed her breathing and tried to find comfort in the steady rhythm of Helios' hooves touching the ground. She let every worry, every thought, fade away into the background until only the sound of the wind was ringing in her ears. The words came to her as naturally as breathing did. They were written in her mind, as though they had been waiting for her to speak them out loud. The runes on her arms started to glow and she hissed when a burning sensation spread through her blood. For a second her focus wavered but her determination was stronger than the pain. The world disappeared around her and the darkness behind her eyelids turned to gold.

Ashara did not know if what she was doing was right at all but there was only one way to find out. It took her a lot of strength to form her question, as though something was holding her back from doing so.

Maybe the Witch had sensed her using the Deep Magic and was trying to stop her but Ashara focused on her words and made sure she pronounced each syllable clearly. Every part of her hoped that the Deep Magic would answer her. That it would help her defeat the evil that had invaded Narnia.

The gold behind her eyes stirred and it started shifting. She frowned as she watched it melt and slowly change into the image of four crowns. And a voice started to whisper, sounding so close that her heart jumped a startled beat in her chest.

"Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight.

At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more.

When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death.

And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.

When Adam's flesh and Adam's bone.

Sits at Cair Paravel in throne.

The evil time will be over and done."

A pained scream left her lips as the runes on her arm burned even brighter and suddenly she was pulled back into reality, seated on the back of Helios, galloping through the woods of Narnia. The sun had disappeared and darkness had fallen. She wondered how long it had taken her to connect to the Deep Magic. It had felt like mere seconds but it appeared to have been hours.

"Are you all right?" Helios questioned, sounding slightly out of breath.

Ashara wondered how long he would keep up this hurried pace but dared not question him about it. He was proud and wouldn't admit he was feeling tired. "I'm fine," she replied. Carefully she lifted the cloth of her shirt. The runes on her skin were now shining with a golden light. It was fading slowly but clearly still there.

"I have never seen a Golden Watcher connect with the Deep Magic at such a young age," Helios spoke again, pulling Ashara out of her thoughts. His words filled her with a strange sort of pride but the emotion wasn't strong enough to drown out her sorrow. "What did it tell you?"

What could she answer? She hadn't much to give the Narnians. She had hoped for strength, the same she had felt while fighting the White Witch. But instead she was given a prophecy. Nothing but words to hold on to. But as she repeated them in her head, over and over, she knew that while the details remained unclear the Narnians would cling to the words like a lifeline. If she were to tell them this, maybe that would be enough to endure the rule of the White Witch. Maybe this prophecy was all they needed to survive.

And suddenly the weight of ruling did not feel as heavy anymore. Her hand curled itself around the hilt of her sword, the words filling her with a courage stronger than her grief. She would rise and the Narnians would rise with her.

All they had to do was wait and believe.

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