𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐝𝐨𝐦 || Edmund Pevensie

XVI

"History was not made by those who did nothing."
- Queen Elizabeth II, The crown

Narnia, 2315

Aslan's how was a gift.

Digory Kirke would always say that everything related to him was a gift. Aslan worked in mysterious ways, but he would always find a way to help us. Aslan's how was no different; it was a refuge and a place to rest and train during these chaotic times.

It was beautiful, placed in a broad field, covered in grass and moss and Narnian plants. The rocky formation stayed on solid ground, covering itself until it rose. High and tall, but with a lot of space underground, mainly used for storage.

The Narnians already knew about their arrival, for as soon as they came near the entrance of the sacred place, a group of centaurs sprinted into positions, forming two lines and an arch out of their blades.

Centaurs were very sensitive about their traditions, and it was nice to see they hadn't forgotten their old habits. They would always insist on greeting their monarchs in ancient ways, and the arc of the blades was one known to the Pevensies.

Whenever one of them would return to Cair Paravel, either from a trip or a battle, anything that made them stay away from their home, they were always greeted by the centaurs in such a way.

They were saying Welcome Home.

With smiles, Olivia and the Pevensies walked forward, passing by the blades that hung in the air, towering over their heads as they felt the familiar sensation of returning. Lucy quaintly waved to the Centaurs as if she had known them her entire life.

Of course, they didn't wave back, as they couldn't get out of the position. But a youngling, perhaps the youngest centaur, had his sword not high enough. Lucy chuckled as the centaur by his side lifted his arm, helping him bring the weapon up.

Inside, the how was bustling with Narnians ( mainly minotaurs and fauns ) building armour and weapons, rushing from side-to-side carrying baskets, iron and blades.

Astounded, the boys and Olivia stopped walking as their curious eyes scanned the room. It was fascinating, reminding the old Kings and Queens of the ancient forges by the south of Narnia, where dwarfs and minotaurs who sought to redeem themselves would go and build the Kings and Queen's weapons for their future battles.

Reminding of her glory days, Olivia decided she loved Aslan's how.

"It may not be what you're used to, but it's defensible." Caspian affirmed, gesturing to the room. Peter gave him a look, thinking he liked it better when the Telmarine had his mouth shut.

Edmund held back his laughter, looking at his brother's face. Susan called from the end of the room the name of her eldest brother, saying there was something he likely wished to see.

They entered a corridor, lightened by the fire coming from Caspian's torch. Inside, the rocky walls were coloured and covered in familiar drawings. Several essential moments of the golden age were drawn, from the beginning to the end;

Like a timeline, the first drawing was of the five children by the lamppost. They wore their furry coats, and Lucy was rushing ahead, running as Peter and Olivia lay down on the snow with smiles.

Secondly came a drawing of the unfrozen waterfall, Peter, Lucy and Susan on the ice in the middle as Olivia pointed her dagger at a wolf. A shiver ran down the Queen's spine as her fingers brushed the drawing in the wall, the memory still evident in her head as if it had only happened yesterday.

Drawings kept on coming; their coronation, standing before their thrones as children with crowns on their heads. Lucy and Susan on Aslan's back as they charged back in battle during the battle of Beruna. Peter, in the war against the giants in the north, a giant kneeling in front of his adult version as he held his sword and wore his great armour. Edmund and Olivia's wedding, the exact scene where Edmund pulled her down and kissed her tenderly.

She reminisced all those past events, the best fifteen years of her life. It may have seemed crazy, but Olivia would never forget. Growing up twice was not easy, especially the first time. But when she left Narnia, her heart stayed behind. Olivia had a life in Cair Paravel. And it had been taken from her.

"It's us." Susan whispered in awe. Her fingertips brushed the surface of the drawing where she and Lucy were on Aslan's back, rushing to help the Kingdom in the battle of Beruna—the awakening of the Queen inside her. Susan knew she wouldn't have turned out as the woman she was that day if it weren't for their great first battle. None of them would be; Olivia had her initial moment as a strategist, and Peter as a leader.

"What is this place?" Lucy asked Caspian, who stared at the Kings and Queens with caution, as if he still expected for something odd to happen— like another person from their timeline to simply reappear.

His curiousness grew.  "You don't know?"

The five monarchs looked at him bluntly.

Caspian used his hand and gestured for them to follow him. Leading the way in the corridor with the light of his torch, they reached another room, far larger than the one being used as a forge.

But with the darkness, they couldn't precisely place their minds of where exactly they were standing. Caspian gave them a silly grin and dropped his torch in a near-great bowl that ran across the room.

The fire illuminated the ambience, making way for the great wall of drawings inside. Their memories, battles, and moments were all there, engraved in the stone and wood. But the one that had a spotlight was one of a grandiose lion, precisely in the centre.

In the middle, passing very unnoticeable, was the Stone Table, the place where Aslan had sacrificed himself for Edmund and ended up dead. But his sacrifice brought him back to life and cracked the stone table.

Olivia and Lucy walked forward, the Pevensie only daring to look as Olivia ran her hand through the crack. She gulped as she remembered the day when she and Peter ventured into the woods in search of Aslan many years ago but had no success.

She signed and took a look at Edmund, who had visibly tensed as his eyes darted from the lion figure on the wall to the table on the floor.

Lucy turned back towards the group, a determined look on her face. "He must know what he is doing." She said sternly, looking at the eldest of her siblings.

Being High King was not easy, and it meant to sometimes make difficult choices. This was one of them. War was near and at bay, knocking on their door and urging them to come to the light. Peter trusted Aslan with all his being, but he couldn't wait for the lion to appear. Not with so many lives at stake.

He gulped and looked at the engraving of Aslan, his insides churning with the wave of emotions running through his head. Guilt. Duty.

"I think it's up to us now." He declared.

And it was with those heavy words echoing in the room that their gazes trapped in the figure of the lion.