wis·dom
/ˈwizdəm/
noun
the quality of having experience, knowledge, and good judgment; the quality of being wise.
Narnia had always been a free country, until she came along. Jadis was the devil in disguise, and she brought to the kingdom an eternal...
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"In every end, there is also a beginning." - Deborah Harkness
England, 1945
Olivia never thought she could be so nervous walking down a street. At least she had Peter, Lucy, and Edmund with her.
The bags were heavy on their hands, dragged around the drudgy neighbourhood in an odd silence. Not quite odd, but uncomfortable nevertheless. Olivia's hands were shaking; her entire body was trembling.
The white cottage was in her sight, and god, she had never hated a house so much. The wooden swing was still hanging in the tree branch before it. The porch still had that little delicate bench in front of it, next to the small and round wooden coffee table.
Stepping in front of it, up the small staircase, made her think it was all a mistake. She wanted to turn around and run away; she should've sold the house when she had the chance.
If there hadn't been so much remorse, Olivia would've thought the house was beautiful. Maybe, that was what the Pevensies were thinking. But not her; definitely not her.
A long time ago, her father had made a choice to leave his infant child behind. And only a year ago ( at least, in regular times, it had been only one year ), her father had left her with all his money and this little cottage in Oxford, the place where he lived with Lianna Kirke, and where he planned to spend his days with. But fate took a macabre turn and left Olivia on her own.
Once, she had sworn to herself the past was going to stay in the past. Her father would be nothing but a memory, a distant image in her mind she would eventually forget.
But, if she did try to make the past stay in the past, then Narnia would only become a distant image, too. And that was something she would never allow; She could see Susan desperately trying to kid herself by saying it was nothing but a children's game. In not a single timeline Olivia would allow herself to become like Susan.
Edmund touched her shoulder as a tear rolled down her cheek. Peter, adjusting his new glasses on the bridge of his nose, nodded at the girl. And Lucy hugged her waist. She grabbed the key shaklee, and shook her head.
"I can't do it." She whispered. Her eyes were watering, watering with fears and memories. It wasn't just her father: by doing this, she would accept a new home. But her home would always be Narnia.
Edmund smiled. "You can. We'll all do it. Together." He said, and Olivia could feel three hands pouring themselves on top of hers, on top of the ornament key.
She didn't have any strength. Their hands forced hers forward, and the key was inside the lock, twisting it to the side. The little click brought her back to reality, and Olivia shook her head.
Olivia reached out and opened the door. She barely remembered the house, but the crack three steps to the right of the entrance was still there from the day she had hit the cricket ball on the wall.
