nine

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I had always been dubbed fearless; after all, few ladies dared wield a sword as confidently as I did. Training under the watchful eye of warriors had prepared me for this moment. But standing before the colossal slingshot that the Telmarines had brought—paired with ominous cannons glinting menacingly in the sunlight—I felt the weight of that title slipping from my grasp. My heart raced as my pulse quickened.

The odds of victory seemed to dwindle with each passing moment. I could see the Telmarine soldiers gathering, armor reflecting the brightness of the day, resolute and intimidating.

Suddenly, I felt warm hands intertwining with my cold ones. Startled, I looked up to see Caspian beside me, his expression a mix of concern and determination. His eyes were locked onto mine, and for a brief heartbeat, I felt a flicker of strength.

"You're too pale, Elatoriai," he remarked, and the slight tremor in his voice reflected his worry. I couldn't muster a response right away, as the sight of the Telmarine soldiers on their horses made my heart pound against my ribcage, drowning out rational thought.

"I promise you," Caspian continued, squeezing my hands tightly, "we're going to win this fight. I'll bring back the old Narnia." The confidence in his tone was comforting, yet it did little to quell the storm of fear within me. The backdrop of war loomed, and I could scarcely envision how victory would unfold among such chaos. I offered him a half-hearted smile, squeezing his hands back in solidarity, trying to share his optimism.

Peter, ever vigilant, glanced my way for a brief moment before shifting his attention to assess the morale of our remaining forces. When he caught sight of one of us and breathed a sigh of relief, I felt a momentary lightness in my chest. But just as quickly, that lightness vanished when my gaze landed on a figure dressed in golden armor, majestic and formidable, riding at the forefront of the enemy lines. The sight made my stomach twist into knots, tightening like a noose around my heart.

"Come on," Peter urged, stepping back toward Aslan's tomb, his voice low but firm.

As Caspian loosened his grip on my hands to follow Peter, hesitation gripped me. My mind raced with one haunting question: How were we supposed to overcome an army when it seemed inevitable that Narnians would suffer? How could we protect our home?

"Tori?" A familiar voice cut through the fog of my thoughts. I turned to find Edmund making his way toward me, his warm smile a beacon of comfort amid the gathering storm.

He extended his hand, inviting me to come with him. Gratefully, I accepted, allowing him to lead me back into the safety of Aslan's tomb. The thrum of war felt distant as we entered the cool embrace of the stone sanctuary.

Inside, the atmosphere buzzed with tension. I heard Peter's voice echoing off the stone walls. "Our plans are about cakes and kettledrums."

Confusion washed over me, tiresome fatigue made my thoughts muddled. Trumpkin's incredulous voice cut through the confusion. "Cakes and kettledrums? That's your plan?!"

"Sending a little girl into the darkest forest? Alone?" Trumpkin exclaimed, his frustration palpable.

My heart raced, fear surging within me as my instincts kicked in. "You're sending Lucy to the dark forest?! Alone?!" My tone was sharp, tinged with disbelief and anger.

"It's our only chance," Peter replied, his voice carrying an apologetic undertone, but the intensity of his expression suggested he felt the gravity of this decision.

"No! She's just a child! Let me go with her!" My voice rose, desperation creeping into every syllable. I didn't want to lose Lucy the way I had lost Gefling; I had to protect her.

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