back, again | prince capian

prologue

I was the first one back. The world around me twisted as I felt something pulling me from the warm embrace of Narnia. I wandered the familiar paths of Cair Paravel, letting the autumn wind brush against my skin and the sun's rays illuminate my face—a warmth that felt comforting, yet far too fleeting.

"Elatoria!" A voice sliced through the tranquility, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Tori!" The call was more urgent, and I struggled to open my eyes, which felt heavy, as though they were weighed down by sorrow.

With a sudden jolt, I sat up, my heart racing as if I had just surfaced from drowning. My surroundings sharpened into focus: I was in my bed at Professor Digory's home. He knelt beside me, concern etched on his face, while his housekeepers moved quietly, fussing over my belongings in the closet.

"What... happened?" I stuttered, confusion swirling in my mind.

"Hush now, little one," Professor Digory said gently, taking a seat at my bedside. "I'm sorry for cutting your adventure short."

"You knew?" My shock was palpable.

"Of course," he replied with a soft smile. "It's all inside my house. Your mother has requested you come home. Manchester is clear now."

"My mom?" I echoed, disbelief flooding my thoughts. "She did? Manchester's clear?"

"Yes, it was stated in the letter that she sent to this address," he explained, handing me a folded piece of paper.

I looked back at him, searching his face for reassurance, then nodded as he stepped out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. My fingers trembled as I unfolded the letter, revealing my mother's heartfelt words:

My Dearest Tori,

As I write this letter, my heart is shattered into a million pieces, weighed down by the enormity of our loss. We have lost your father and brother, their absence leaving a gaping hole in our lives that feels insurmountable. Each day is a struggle, with the echoes of their laughter haunting the halls of our home. I find myself reaching for memories that are now tinged with sorrow, every corner steeped in the shadows of what used to be.

I need you here, Tori. The thought of facing each day without both you and your brother feels unbearable. Our home has turned into a shell, filled only with an aching silence that weighs heavily on my heart. I feel so alone.

As you prepare to return to Manchester, know that you are not alone in your grief. You have always been the strong one, the light in the storm, and now that light is even more essential. Together, we will navigate this harrowing journey, carrying the weight of our shared sorrow, but also the memories of the love we shared as a family.

You may feel lost, and it's okay to grieve. It's okay to feel broken. Each day, I am learning to cope with this loss, to honor the lives of your father and brother while trying to find a flicker of joy within the pain. There will be moments when the memories wash over us, filling the air with echoes of laughter and love that are now bittersweet. But we can hold onto those memories, allowing them to guide us as we forge a new path together.

I long to take you in my arms, to feel your warmth as we share our grief and lean on each other for strength. Please know that I am waiting for you, yearning to reconnect and face this daunting reality side by side. We will carry our love for them in our hearts, and together, we will honor their memory.

Come home, my dear Tori. I need you now more than ever.

With all the love in my heart,

Mom

What... what? I could hardly comprehend the words as they blurred through my tears. I kept rereading the parts about our loss, a suffocating weight settling in my chest. All I had anticipated was returning home to a complete family, despite our fractured house.

But now it all came rushing back.

We have lost your father and brother, their absence leaving a gaping hole in our lives that feels insurmountable

How could this happen?

I had spent a month in this new home, a month entwined with the lives of the Pevensies. A month filled with adventures in another realm—laughter and joy that now felt like a betrayal.

I didn't deserve to be happy when my mother was grieving in silence.

Oh Lord, I've lost my father and brother. How long will this war endure? How many families have to suffer?

My mom is all alone.

She's all alone. I have to go now.

I need to be there for her. I need to share in her grief.

Clutching the letter, my vision blurred from tears.

I need you here, Tori. The thought of facing each day without both you and your brother feels unbearable...

My mother needs me. My heart raced as I scanned the room for my belongings. Through my teary vision, I spotted my things mostly packed by the helpful hands of Professor Digory. I did a quick check, grabbing the last few necessities—my hands shaking as I focused on the task at hand.

A soft knock interrupted me. I quickly dried my face and called out, "Come in."

It was Professor Digory.

"Oh, Elatoria..." he said gently, noticing my tear-streaked face. "I have your train ticket. We will escort you to the station. Is that alright with you?"

My heart ached, and I managed a sad smile, which he seemed to interpret as affirmation. He signaled for help to carry my things to the car.

I didn't like the pitying looks they gave me. I didn't need their sympathy; I needed my mother.

The ride to the station was quick, with Professor Digory and his housekeeper, Mrs. Macready, who, after our arrival, had declared her disdain for children. She popped out to collect my suitcases, offering a small, sympathetic smile that felt inadequate.

As I stepped out, the distant whistle of the approaching train reminded me of my urgency. I had just fifteen minutes. The station felt alive, bustling with others traveling home after the turmoil that had overshadowed it for so long.

I turned back to Professor Digory and managed a brief smile before stepping away. Each step brought me closer to my mother, who was waiting for me. I waved goodbye but felt that I didn't need a farewell.

As I entered the train with my ticket in hand, I realized I was about to board the wrong compartment. An attendant politely pointed me in the right direction. Looking back, I saw that Professor Digory and Mrs. Macready were already gone.

I took a deep breath, settling into my seat, the weight of my mother's words still heavy in my heart. I had six hours before I would be with her again.

I'm coming, Mom. You're not alone anymore.