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𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑳𝑬 𝑩𝑬𝑻𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑵 𝑻𝑾𝑶 𝑨𝑹𝑴𝑰𝑬𝑺
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𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐒 drifted over the area as the White Witch and her dark procession made their way through the camp. The witch sat atop of a heavy looking chair that rested upon two sturdy and horizontal laying poles. The improvised throne was carried on the shoulders of four cyclops and their teeth were bared in an inaudible growl as they scowled at the booing thrown their way by the Narnians.

The witch herself looked peaceful, almost bored, while her white dress stood oddly out compared with the vibrant colours of the encampment. A crown made of ice crystals sparkled atop of her head, and Edmund had to suppress a shiver when her light eyes fell on him. A tiny smirk played around her pale lips, but then she focussed on the lion sitting in front of the red pavilion as the cyclops lowered the improvised throne.

The witch rose up from her seat. 'You have a traitor in your midst, Aslan,' she said, and while an uneasy ripple traveled through the Narnians, the lion silenced them by shaking his mane.

'His offense was not against you,' Aslan answered, a dangerous undertone lingering in his voice.

'Have you forgotten the Deep Magic?' the witch asked in a condescending manner and Aslan growled.

'Do not cite the Deep Magic to me, witch. I was there when it was written.'

'Then you should know it well. Every traitor belongs to me.'

Peter boiled with anger, and the fear of losing his younger brother to the White Witch again made him unable to think clearly. He unsheathed his sword, stepped in front of Edmund and raised his sword. 'Try and take him, then.' His blue eyes glinted dangerously but it wavered when the witch simply scoffed at his actions.

'Do you really think you can deny me my right by mere force, little king? Aslan knows that unless I have blood as the law says, all of Narnia will be overturned and perish in fire and water. That boy will die on the Stone Table.' The witch pointed an accusing finger on Edmund whose eyes grew fearfully wide, and Jadis grinned in triumph.

'Enough,' Aslan growled. 'I shall talk with you alone.'

The lion disappeared into his pavilion and the witch followed with her chin held high. The red flap fell back over the tent opening and some uneasy murmurs arose as the Narnians and the witch's creatures were forced to wait together.

Peter slid his sword back into its sheath and crossed eyes with Edmund who still stood behind him. Susan laid a comforting hand on her younger brother's shoulder, but all waited anxiously for Aslan's return.

However, as time ticked forth, it became evident it would be quite a while until the leaders of the opposite armies would come to an agreement. Some of the Narnians, the Pevensies and Summers slowly started to sit down to spare their legs from the long wait.

A cloud shifted in front of the sun and the encampment suddenly looked very gloom and sombre; the vibrant colours of the tents dimmed by the shadows.

Rosaleen sat cross-legged next to Peter, their knees almost touching as they absentmindedly stared at their own hands. Every once in a while, Peter's eyes traveled to Edmund who tried to stay calm as the lion and the witch discussed his fate, but the raven-haired boy's breathing was shallow. Peter wanted to say something, to tell Edmund it was going to be alright, until a movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Something moved behind the tent opening, and the Narnians and the teenagers quickly climbed back on their feet as the White Witch strode out of the pavilion. A smug smile played around her lips and her eyes glinted as they looked Edmund up and down, and he swallowed in nervosity. Without saying anything, though, she set course towards her seat and turned around to face Aslan who had stepped out of the tent as well.

The lion's amber-coloured eyes, shining like two small suns, observed Edmund for a moment and Lucy reached for her brother's hand in an instinct, both of their heartbeats raised painfully. Then, Aslan focussed upon the rest of the Narnians.

'She has renounced her claim on the Son of Adam's blood.'

Cheers erupted everywhere and Edmund let out a choked laugh in relief as Peter clapped him on his shoulder, an equal wide smile on their faces.

'How do I know your promise will be kept?' the witch asked the lion. Her cold voice sliced through the air with the sharpness of a scythe, and the jubilating crowd silenced in an instance.

Aslan took a deep breath and bared his sharp fangs as he let out a deafening roar that thundered over the area with the intensity of a storm.

The White Witch almost tripped over her dress as she quickly sat down in her improvised throne, and the Narnians burst out in an exuberant manner once more while the dark procession of the witch left the camp with as much dignity as they could muster.

Lucy hugged Edmund tight but as she glanced at Aslan, she noticed he looked rather downcast despite the good news. She frowned as the lion sadly padded back into his pavilion, his golden ears hanging low, but Lucy's attention was drawn back to the Narnians as they cheered for Edmund and his safety, and she thought of it no more.

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 in a blink of an eye. Though Peter and Alexander had talked to Aslan about the possibility of the White Witch and her army attacking during the night (as that was what the Germans did back at home), the lion had told them not to worry about that; and the next morning, the company found out why.

The sun had only just begun to peak above the horizon when Peter and Edmund stormed inside the Summers' tent, causing both of the siblings to jolt awake instantly.

'What's happening?' Alexander mumbled before a realisation dawned upon him and while a metallic ring travelled through the air, he unsheathed his swords. 'Are we under attack?'

'No,' Peter answered grimly, 'but it wouldn't be long. Aslan is dead.'

Alexander dropped his swords while Rosaleen climbed out of her bed, her eyes wide in shock. 'What?'

'Lucy and Susan sent us a message via the dryads not too long ago. Aslan took Edmund's place; the White Witch killed him at the Stone Table, and with him gone, she's planning to take over Narnia once more.'

Rosaleen's gaze fell upon Edmund who bit on his lip in guilt but his brown eyes sparkled in determination. He refused to let Aslan's sacrifice be in vain.

'But first, she has to go through us. Come on, get up,' Edmund said to Alexander.

'We have a war to plan,' Peter added.

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐘 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃 with the mighty mountains seated in the north could have been a beautiful sight if it hadn't been for the tension of the upcoming war that lingered in the air. The vultures already circled high in the cloudless sky, their high-pitched caws sending unpleasant shivers down Rosaleen's spine, but the vultures were chased away when the scouting gryphon returned to the front of Peter's army. The gryphon folded his wings against his lion-like body and gracefully dived down until he had spiralled down next to ones forming the front line.

Peter, Edmund, Alexander, Rosaleen and Oreius all stood in front of the army; the horses of the humans nibbled nervously on the bridle bit, and the armour shimmered brightly in the sun that beamed down on them.

While the boys wore harnesses that looked the same at first glance, there were some distinctive differences between them. A heavy chainmail covered every inch of their bodies and while most of the rings were silver-coloured, some at the hem of their shirts were golden. Over their chainmail, they wore a bordeaux red tunic with a symbol of a roaring golden lion, but the differences began by the ornaments edged into the plates of armour covering their shoulders; Peter's symbol had become the leaves of an oak tree that stood for power and courage; Edmund's were birch leaves that symbolized renewal and purification whereas Alexander's leaves of an elm tree represented intuition and inner strength.

Rosaleen's harness, on the other hand, was much more feminine. Her chainmail was made of smaller and lighter rings, though still strong and able to protect her, but her red tunic accentuated her form as it fell around her in a far more fitting and tighter manner. Though she wore a long red skirt, it had a massive triangular gap at the front, revealing the trousers she wore as well and made her able to ride her horse with much more ease. The metal plates covering her shoulders and part of her upper arm were carved with the leaves of an aspen tree; resembling awareness and endurance.

The gryphon was almost the same size as the white unicorn Peter sat on and he only had to look a bit down to catch the eagle's eyes of the gryphon.

'They come, your Highness,' the gryphon said, his voice sounding a bit out of breath due to his sprint through the air. 'In numbers and weapons far greater than our own.'

Oreius scoffed when he saw Rosaleen and Alexander sharing a look in concern. 'Numbers do not win a battle,' he said.

'No,' Peter breathed out, his gaze fixed upon the first black banners of the witch's army appearing at the edge of the field. 'But I bet they help.'

A loud horn suddenly blared over the field and every soldier, general and leader held their breath as the army of the White Witch completely appeared like a seething mass of evil creatures. Their black banners flapped fiercely in the warm breeze and their weapons shimmered like the eyes of a predator; ready to strike. The gryphon hadn't overreacted their numbers, and the temperature seemed to drop when two polar bears appeared as well; they pulled forth a chariot with the witch standing confidently in it. The top of her dress was decorated with a golden fur, strangely resembling the manes of a lion, and she held her ice staff high in the air, ordering her army to a halt.

Another horn blared over the field and Peter let out a shaky breath while Rosaleen uneasily shifted in the saddle of her black stallion named Riptide.

Peter drew his sword and pointed it forwards, keeping it lifted as his army shouted behind him in support while the army at the other side of the field began charging forward after the witch's ominous orders.

The dark creatures approached rapidly but Peter stayed calm and collected, repeating the battle techniques silently in his head. Then, when the witch's army had halfway crossed the soon to be battlefield, Peter motioned his sword downwards; the signal for the gryphons, eagles, hawks and falcons to take their flight with the large rocks gripped tight in their talons.

The flying creatures emerged from the top of the mountain and they soared towards the witch's army, letting go of the large boulders and causing the formation of the witch's army to fall apart. However, the black army still approached fast, their numbers hardly affected by the dropping rocks.

'Are you with me?' Peter asked those next to them, and though Rosaleen's heart hammered painfully against her chest, she still nodded and repeated the same words of the others: to the death.

'For Narnia, and for Aslan!' Peter shouted, and his white unicorn pranced majestically before darting off towards the witch's army. The rest of the Narnian army followed suit and in a triangular formation they raced towards the witch's army. The hooves of the centaurs, horses, fauns and satyrs thundered on the grass but Rosaleen only heard the whizzing of her blood filled with adrenaline between her ears as the armies came closer and closer. She let go of Riptide's reins to unsheathe the swords on her back and kept steering the horse with her knees to use her swords simultaneously, and next to her, the others readied their weapons as well.

The centaurs lowered their pikes to pierce through the first line of the opposition, but the panthers spurted forwards to collide against the white tigers of the witch first. Growls erupted as the felines crashed into each other, but it only lasted a few seconds before the clanging of colliding weaponry added to it as well. Chaos burst out everywhere as each army tried to get the upper hand. The White Witch may have had the numbers, but the Narnians fought with a fierceness that couldn't be ordered; they fought for a free Narnia.

Rosaleen felt it was more luck than chance as she brought down her swords against every enemy that stood in her way, but with every movement and defeated dark creature, she silenced her mind more and more. She fought instinctively, her intuition taking over as the adrenaline energized her slicing arms. Her thoughts consisted of nothing more than improvising her flowing movements into the next, until all of the sudden, a minotaur doomed up at her horse's side and he swung his spiked club towards her. Rosaleen managed to bring up her swords just in time, but the collision of the club against the unbreakable steel sent her flying out of the saddle. She soared through the air for a moment before smacking with her back first onto the ground. Her breath left her forcefully and she gasped for air as her ribs throbbed in pain. Silence rang in her ears and she stared up at the stark blue sky where suddenly a phoenix flew through. The firebird burst out in flames and dove down towards the ground to cut off the rest of the witch's army that approached.

Knowing that every second counted in this moment, Rosaleen forced her senses to start working again. With a massive effort, she managed to push herself back in a sitting position and she scrambled to roll out of the way when she suddenly spotted the minotaur charging at her. He swung down his spiked club she had been a mere second ago and the sand and grass clumps flew up in the air. Rosaleen still struggled for oxygen when the minotaur continued his attack, pulling his club out of the ground and roaring in anger as he swung his weapon down one more.

Rosaleen felt the hilts of the swords in her hands but her movements were slow and weak as she was still dazed from the harsh landing. All she felt capable of at the moment was crawling backwards. The minotaur's roar was cut off abruptly when Peter, still seated atop of the unicorn and seemingly coming out of nowhere, planted his iron boot against the creature's chest. He kicked him far away from Rosaleen and then stuck out his gloved hand for her to grab.

'Come on, get up,' he said to her, his blue eyes barely noticeable between the gap in his helmet.

She climbed back on her feet with the help of her swords; stabbing the sharp ends in the ground and pushing herself up with a groan. She slid the swords back in their sheaths and took his outstretched hand. Peter pulled her up onto the unicorn, helping her to sit behind him and placing her hands around his waist.

'Hold on tight,' he said to her before ordering the troops to retreat back to the hills as not even the phoenix had managed to prevent the second wave of the witch's army from closing in. They needed to regulate the flow of the opposition and the narrow road between the rock formations allowed them to do so.

Peter urged the unicorn in gallop and Rosaleen strengthened her grip around his waist to not fall off.

'Thank you for saving me,' she said while they sped back over the battlefield towards the towering rocks in the distance.

Peter glanced back at her over his shoulder shortly but his silver helmet made it impossible for Rosaleen to see that he smiled. He focussed his attention on the road in front of him again, but as they galloped over the narrow path between the rocky hills, an arrow suddenly buried itself in the unicorn's flank. The white animal fell away from underneath them and for the second time in a very short span, Rosaleen got launched through the air. Both she and Peter landed with a smack on the ground, several feet away from the wounded unicorn.

Peter gasped for air and threw his helmet away, blood trickling out of a cut above his eyebrow. He quickly scooted over the ground towards Rosaleen lying on her stomach not far away from him, a bit too still to his liking. His hands trembled as he brushed some strands of her hair out of her face.

'Rose. . . Rose, are you alright?' Peter's mouth felt dry as he tried to feel through his gloves her heartbeat under her chin. Her eyes were closed and Peter felt his tears burning, but instead of letting his fear take over, he turned her on her back to reanimate her. Before he could do so, though, the sound of galloping hooves drew his attention and he screamed when he saw Oreius and a rhinoceros thundering towards the dark creatures of the White Witch.

Peter's scream brought Rosaleen back to her senses and she groaned as a fierce pain throbbed all over her body, slowly opening her eyes as well.

'Rose!' Peter exclaimed, tearing his eyes away from Oreius who charged fearlessly towards the witch, and he pulled her in a hug as soon as she tried to sit up.

Rosaleen melted in his arms for a moment but his grip was rather strong and another painful groan escaped her mouth.

Peter quickly let go of her again while apologising.

The both of them, though, were suddenly hauled up by their shoulders and Rosaleen looked up to see her brother.

'We don't really have time for this,' he scolded the two of them, setting Rosaleen back on her feet while Edmund helped Peter standing up.

In front of them, all over the narrow path, lay fallen Narnians and dark creatures, some even turned to stone as the witch made her way over to the humans.

Alexander pushed Rosaleen out of the way, swinging his swords at a ghoul that had sneaked around them and all of the sudden, the whole group was surrounded by enemies.

Peter, Alexander, Edmund and Rosaleen all fought fiercely, their swords flashing through the air but the witch's army seemed endless. Whenever they had slain a dark creature, another one took its place and the group of teenagers got driven apart.

Peter shot a worried glance at Rosaleen as he stabbed a cyclops through his chest. Her movements weakened with every passing second and she grimaced every time she lifted her swords.

Peter glanced around, narrowly ducking underneath another blow of an enemy and he noticed the Narnian army shrunk rapidly. They were losing.

'Ed!' Peter screamed, spinning around to spot his younger brother. He wanted to order him to get Rosaleen, to find their sisters and to get out of here. They had to survive. However, Peter's breath caught in his throat when he spotted Edmund behind the White Witch and standing high upon some rocks. The witch hadn't seen him, yet, but when she was about to turn another Narnian into stone, Edmund jumped down from the stones towards her with a fierce yell.

The witch whirled out of the way of his attack and she scoffed, unamused. With a jab, Jadis stabbed her staff forwards, towards Edmund but he had already seen it coming and he spun sideways, dodging the icy end. He lifted his sword above his head and swung it down, right through Jadis' wand that shattered with a loud ringing and a bright blue light. For a moment, the witch stared perplexed at her broken staff but then she growled and stabbed Edmund in his lower abdomen with the broken end.

Edmund gasped for air, staggering a few steps backwards when the witch retracted her wand and his sword clattered on the ground as his trembling fingers reached for the deadly wound.

Jadis threw her now useless staff on the ground at the same time when Edmund lost his strength to keep standing and his knees collapsed underneath him.

Peter screamed his brother's name, but the agonising fear inside his heart made way for a boiling fury when Jadis looked at him with a smirk playing around her lips. Without thinking, Peter charged at her, his sword held high and his shield at the ready. He swung his sword towards the witch's side but she easily met his blow, forcing him a few steps back. Peter struggled to keep his balance but tried to attack her again and again. Neither of them got hurt but it felt as if Jadis was playing with him, as if she saw his every move coming from miles away. Peter narrowly ducked under her blow when she held her swords horizontal and criss-crossed in the air, slicing them towards his neck.

Every battle froze, though, when a lion's roar thundered through the air, shaking the very ground they stood on and some rocks rolled down the hills by the loud vibration. Everyone turned their head towards the hills overseeing the battleground and there, in the beaming sunlight, stood Aslan with Susan and Lucy at his side. Hundreds of other Narnians appeared as well, all shaking angrily their weaponry at the witch.

'Impossible,' Jadis breathed out, but she was quick to recover from her shock and slammed her sword against Peter's shield who was still staring at the lion and his sisters. He grunted in pain and tried to hold the witch off, but she was growing tired of their game and swiped his feet. With one of her swords, she pinned his chainmail near his shoulder to the ground, making it impossible for Peter to use his swordhand. With a scowl, Jadis slammed his shield away as well and prepared to take his life with one final blow.

Peter closed his eyes in fear, but quickly opened them again when a massive shadow jumped over him; Aslan launched himself on the witch and ended Jadis' life without mercy while the reinforcements streamed over the battleground. The tides turned in the favour of the Narnians.

'It is over,' the lion said as he turned to Peter who struggled to get the protruding sword out of the ground.

Rosaleen sprinted towards him, finally able to break through the circle of enemies that had surrounded her, and pulled out the sword before dropping on her knees next to him.

Peter pushed himself up with his arms, staring into the amber-coloured eyes of the lion for a moment but then he focussed on Rosaleen who checked if the sword hadn't pierced his shoulder.

'I'm alright,' he said to her and she smiled at him with tear-filled eyes. He wiped away a tear that rolled down her cheek with a thumb, but when his sisters ran towards him, he suddenly remembered why he had charged at the witch without thinking.

'Where's Edmund?' Susan asked, scanning the area but she couldn't spot her younger brother anywhere.

Peter climbed back on his feet, pulling Rosaleen with him, and they quickly ran towards where they had last seen Edmund. Alexander sat near his side, pressing his hands on Edmund's abdomen but the blood still seeped through his fingers. A black dwarf sneaked up from behind them and Susan drew her bow in an instinct, sending a flying arrow towards the dwarf just when he wanted to swing down his axe. With a yelp, the dwarf fell backwards by the impact, dead before he even landed on the ground.

The three Pevensies and Rosaleen dropped down next to Edmund as well and Susan quickly removed the silver helmet from his head. Edmund's breathing was shallow and he fought for every breath of oxygen he took.

Lucy fumbled with her healing cordial but finally managed to unscrew the bottle and she hovered over her brother to let a drop fall into his mouth. Edmund swallowed the red liquid but to everyone's horror, his breathing stopped completely and his eyes fluttered shut.

Susan and Lucy cried, their hearts aching, but Peter could only stare at his younger brother, the tears burning behind his eyes and his face all drained from every colour. Edmund couldn't be dead.

Then, Edmund gasped for air, his eyes shooting open again to meet the teary-eyed of his siblings. Peter quickly pulled him in a tight hug and Lucy and Susan flung themselves around the two as well, now crying happy tears.

Rosaleen and Alexander let out a relieved chuckle as they crossed eyes and they embraced each other tightly as well until Susan pulled the two of them in their group hug.

The battle was won, Narnia was finally free from the White Witch's terror.

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