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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"Fantasy is hardly an escape from reality. It's a way of understanding it." ― Lloyd Alexander.
England, 1949.
Edmund felt uncomfortable. Like he wanted to bury himself under the table or run away just like old times and hide in the room under the stairs.
But, he smiled. And some of it was genuine, because the food was just amazing. Surreal, even, like an explosion of flavour and savoury in his mouth. Lucy and Eustace were experts; that was a certainty.
When they finished eating, a small silence enveloped the table. There was an empty chair next to Edmund, just as organised as the other spots were. Digory Kirke cleared his throat, standing and clinking his spoon against his glass.
"Please, join hands with me for a prayer." He said, and everyone obeyed. Edmund looked at his side, where his left hand was left empty. Across the empty chair, Susan looked at her plate guiltily as her right hand was holding what seemed to be air.
He opened his mouth to speak, a speech written on a piece of paper on top of the table. But a flash of blinding light made everyone cover their eyes on instinct, the white gleam covering the table.
When some of it passed, Peter was the first to open his eyes, rubbing them from under his glasses. His eyes squinted, looking at the blurry figure right above them.
A blond and fresh-haired man with distinctly familiar traits was tied around a tree. His image was blurry and shaky like it came from under the water. His eyes were wide because he seemed to notice them, too. His clothes were ragged and torn, pieces shredded and small shards of skin on evidence. His hair was messy, and dry tears stained his pale cheeks. He looked frozen— the kind of frozen after the white witch stung them with her magic. His blue eyes changed from each of them, panic increasing as his eyes hovered from Lucy to Edmund to Susan to Peter to Eustace and every single one of them.
Jill let out a yelp, jumping off her chair and falling flat on her ass. Lucy shrugged as if this was the kind of thing that happened to her every day and ate another piece of pie. Digory accidentally spilt wine on the floor, and Polly froze on the spot. Edmund slapped his forehead. Susan groaned.
It was utter chaos. Well, for everyone but Peter, who seemed to be the most composed of them all. He stood up, grabbing the knife and pointing it at the reflection of the other boy. "I am High King Peter, the Magnificent, and I demand that you tell us who you are!"
The blonde boy was astounded. He opened his mouth, like he wanted to speak, but not a single word came out. He clearly grew more desperate at his lack of words, recoiling against the ropes tying him around the tree.
