serendipity - narnia [EDITING]

chapter 1

Chapter 1
 So It Begins

The streets of Narrowhaven were bitterly cold. They had been for the last hundred years. Dahlia had only suffered seventeen of those years, but it was enough for the snow to lose the charm it had when she was younger. Her parents dying during a particularly awful snowstorm did not help her case. Benedict and Celeste had been mages, a tradition they passed to their only child. While Dahlia didn't believe she matched their skill yet, she knew enough to be valuable in her town.

It was a market day when Dahlia wrapped her mother's cloak tight around her shoulders. The air held the crisp aroma of a looming snowfall. It had to have been close to the hundredth in her life. She yearned for the warmer seasons she would never know. Stories of spring always held a particular element of hope. She wished to see flowers that flourished rather than wilted.

Dahlia ducked into the alley she used as a shortcut home when a voice called her name. She paused; it didn't sound like anyone she knew. Dahlia turned on her heel and leaned back into the main street. No one was looking her way, so she shook it off and continued the walk to her cottage.

Her fingers were beginning to numb from the cold. Dahlia shifted her bag from her hand to her shoulder. She cupped her hands and concentrated until a tiny ember sparked in her hands. Then the voice came again. It boomed, reverberating in her skull. Her flame died and she lurched back against the stone wall. The voice became the least of her worries.

Heat rose within her chest. It warmed her skin, but not in the way of a fever. She felt as if she were sitting too close to a bonfire. Dahlia slid down the wall. Her bag fell off her shoulder as she pressed her hands to her chest. The thin sheet of ever-present ice beneath her began to melt, wetting the hem of her dress. Her mental interloper returned. His words echoed like they were shouted into a cave.

Be not afraid, Dahlia Fey. The time has come for you to fulfill your destiny. All will be explained in time, but you must first find the Pevensies. They travel in four.

He was gone. The depth of his voice was replaced with piercing ringing in Dahlia's ears. She curled into herself, head tucked between her knees. Her eyes squeezed shut. White light flashed behind her lids. The ringing reached its peak, then fell silent. Dahlia released herself.

A thick blanket of snow surrounded her. She must have fainted from the sound. Maeve Blackwood, her caretaker, would understand. Dahlia tended to overexert her magic. She had standing orders to check in with Maeve next door for dinner every night. Hot soup and fresh bread would do her good.

Dahlia reached back to push herself up. Her hand hit bark instead of stone. She scrambled off the ground, scattering the snowflakes that had settled in her hair, and turned. Narrowhaven was gone. Her bag from the market had vanished or was lost beneath the snowdrifts. Trees stretched skyward around her, evergreens caked with white. She would not be visiting Maeve tonight.

She left the shelter of her tree, brushing snow from her dress. She channeled heat into her hands and brushed them across her clothing. A dim orange hue bloomed from her fingertips as the fabric collected the warmth. With her mind freed from the cold, she could give the forest her full attention.

Magic had brought her here. This conclusion came naturally to a mage. She could feel it humming in the air around her. It was dissipating slowly the longer she stood shin-deep in the snow. She took a brief moment to praise herself for the waterproof charm she'd performed on her boots. Then she reconsidered the voice. The instructions he had given her were handy. She did not know these woods and at least finding the Pevensies gave her an objective. It would have been helpful to know more about them than their number, but whatever destiny the voice had referred to should not be tested.