Will Briar begin a new era of witches, or will history repeat itself? Either way, Edmund won't be tricked twice.
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"If I perish, I perish. You can take my life, but you can't take my will." In which a girl born of Narnia's two greatest adversaries...
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"So, if I hadn't discovered it, you'd be..."
A hysterical chuckle erupted from the small, bearded man. His whole face had broken into a wrinkle-laden grimace, hiding all the worry lines under a weak smile.
Briar merely stared at him, dumbfounded. Speechless. Confounded. She was amazed.
Caspian had smothered her in a hug the second she'd arrived at the armory, her hair unkempt, cheeks flushed, gasping for air, and her face lined with tears. She'd been shaking, and bleeding, going on and on about how she was certain she'd "done it wrong" or "wasn't good enough." She was afraid she'd failed.
Caspian knew that his sister was afraid of what wasn't logical or probable; that, and extremely terrified of the idea of failure. Not that Briar would ever admit it.
After a few moments, the scared, vulnerable girl withdrew back into her shell, and the composed, factual one returned. His sister had wiped her tears, taken a deep breath, and apologized profusely for wasting time. It had only been a minute or two, but Briar knew that there wasn't the luxury of emotion anymore; she had to keep it together.
"I knew my instincts about you had merit, I just did not know it would come so naturally to you, and so much later than expected." Professor Cornelius put a hand on her shoulder, causing her to jump.
"Oh," the girl's wide eyes narrowed. "I...I had no idea you expected that of me."
Right on cue, a knife carved out her insides, leaving a gaping hollow. A chill swept through, digging its teeth into her bones like numbing balm. I guess it wasn't really my discovery after all. It's just another expectation to live up to.
Just like everything else in Briar's life. Now, he expected her to naturally excel at whatever she'd just done...and another thing she might disappoint everyone with later.
"You must pursue your abilities once you've crossed the Great River," the Professor said emphatically. "Practice is going to be key to success. Narnia will be a safe place to learn and grow."
Caspian cleared his throat, his ombre eyes casting a sideways look at the two. "We should get going, hmm?" he said, his gaze fixating upon the suddenly sullen expression she wore. "They will be here any second."
The Professor nodded. Briar perked up and gave him a short nod. The two spread out in the large, dark room; the only light was from Cornelius's torch. Caspian grabbed a sword from one of many stored along the shelves, unsheathing it. The white blade glimmered ominously. Realization washed over him as it occurred to the boy that he'd have to use it against his own people. He clamped it shut abruptly, his expression turning grim.
Briar immediately went to where armor was kept. Lydia had once said she hid her armor somewhere amongst the men's cuirasses. As she frantically searched, Caspian came over and adorned a black and gray cuirass, reminding her that the women of Telmar didn't fight. Lydia, her lady-in-waiting, had been a special case. Therefore, it was hard to find her friend's armor among the sea of men's armor.
