❝𝑆𝑇𝐴𝑅-𝑇𝑂𝑈𝐶𝐻𝐸𝐷 𝐷𝐸𝑆𝑇𝐼𝑁𝐼𝐸𝑆 𝐶𝐴𝑁𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝐵𝐸 𝐷𝐸𝑁𝐼𝐸𝐷.❞
On a chilly night in December 1930, a girl with beautiful chestnut hair was born in the Barlowe family. Her name was Eleanor Aria Barlowe.
She was born in the northern part...
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❛𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀, 𝐌𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 wake up.'
The voice that was roaming around Eleanor's head was familiar, but vague all at the same time. Her eyes were fighting the urge to flutter open. They felt heavy, impossibly heavy to open. Her stomach ached, as if dozens of knives had been stabbed through her flesh. She wanted to throw up, get rid of the awful stinging feeling, but couldn't move a single limb.
Her mouth was slightly open to allow her to breathe and with much restraint she managed to whisper one word.
'Help.'
A gentle gush of wind tickled her cheeks and she could feel them coming back to life. The tingling sensation rushed through her veins to every corner of her body, bringing motion into them. She jerked herself up and inhaled sharply as she could finally open her eyes again.
She recognised the throne room of Roguecrest in an instant; the crusty black paint, the torches which barely lit up half of the room properly, the vast throne that stood proudly in the mist. Eleanor's fingertips were freezing, the air frosty and moist instead of suffocating and dry like before.
She slowly rose up to her feet to see bodies scattered on the ground, hidden mostly in the mist. Some were on their backs, others their chest and a few on their sides on the stone-cold floor.
She swallowed when she recognised Lucy's hair which had lost its auburn-glow. As she sluggishly walked over to her, with deliberate prudence in every step that she took, she perceived the identities of more bodies. Peter lay on his chest, his arm outstretched to where Tallulah was lying, trying to reach out to her. Caspian's arms were protectively wrapped around Susan and both seemed to be peacefully dreaming. She even recognised Cassiopeia's brown locks, neatly folded into an elaborate hairstyle. She sank onto her knees next to Edmund. He still had the same confused look on his face before her vision was blocked.
Her hand reached out for his cheek, but stopped midair when she heard loud footsteps enter the throne room. She got back on her feet again and quickly spun on her heels. It was only now that she noticed Aslan, who was awake too.
Entering the throne room were Balthasar and Odysseus. The mist made way for the two royals as if it was scared of them. Balthasar's triumphant smile faltered at the sight of Eleanor. 'Ah my bride,' he uttered through gritted teeth. 'Have you slept well?'
'Turns out that I still prefer a bed over the ground.' She harshly bit her tongue in regret as Balthasar's eyes fired up again.
Balthasar gestures towards the bodies on the floor. 'You may have recognised them by now,' he said with a sneer. 'The little kings and queens of Narnia—'
