( 𝗖𝗨𝗥𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗟𝗬 𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥 𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 )
𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇
⸻ Cordelia Winterbourne's ordinary life with her mother was shattered by the onset of war, prompting Cordelia's mother to make a gut-wrenching decision by sending her daughter away for...
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Today marked the pivotal day of Miraz’s coronation, as he prepared to assume the mantle of King of Telmarine.
Stepping into the grand chamber where the imposing throne awaited, he was flanked by an assembly of lords, their eyes fixed upon him with a mix of anticipation and scrutiny as he made his way toward the seat of power.
Upon arriving at the throne, Lord Sopespian stepped forward with measured grace, moving behind Miraz. Carefully, he placed the crown upon the monarch’s head, the ceremonial act unfolding with deliberate reverence before he returned to his original position. His gaze then shifted sideways, settling on a figure standing quietly beside him.
Cordelia.
In stark contrast to the revelry surrounding Miraz's coronation, Cordelia's countenance bore an eerie stillness, her eyes devoid of vitality as though the very essence of life had drained away.
Her once-dark locks had undergone metamorphosis, now a cascade of pure white, falling in soft, natural waves down her back. The natural waves in her hair lending her an almost otherworldly, ethereal touch to her appearance.
The dark green dress that had once adorned her frame yielded to the formidable presence of a black dress.
Lord Sopespian's gaze returned to Miraz's imposing figure as the newly crowned king approached the throne and took his seat.
In an unusual show of deference, every person in the chamber, including Cora, bowed before the monarch. Tradition dictated that subjects pay homage to their ruler, not the other way around, yet in this surprising moment, Cora lowered herself before the newly crowned King of Telmarine.
The echoing proclamation resounded through the chamber, a fervent declaration that echoed the sentiment of the assembled multitude, "Long live the king!"
Miraz's gaze lingered on the girl, her head still inclined in a bow, a subtle smirk playing upon his lips. The thought of her allegiance to his cause against the Narnians sparked a flicker of excitement within him.
The person standing before him was no longer Cordelia Winterbourne.
Now, she stood as Seraphina Winterbourne.
𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆
Edmund perched at the rocky precipice, the same spot where he and Cora had shared moments before.
His eyes lingered on the delicate pendant swaying from his fingers—an intricately fashioned necklace shaped like a crystalline ice sword.
It was the very gift Cora had given him on that momentous day when they were crowned as the Kings and Queens of Narnia. The pendant carried more than its delicate form; it held the weight of shared history, a symbol of their bond forged through the trials and triumphs of their reign.
Startled from his thoughts, Edmund turned sharply, only to find Peter standing quietly behind him.
With a scoff and a slight roll of his eyes, Edmund turned away from his brother, a clear indication of his disinterest in engaging with Peter at that moment.
Unfazed by Edmund's dismissive demeanor, Peter settled beside him, taking a quiet seat.
It wasn't the first time he had faced such indifference from Edmund, even before they stumbled upon the enchanting world of Narnia.
A pause lingered in the air until the blond Pevensie broke the silence, his voice carrying an apologetic tone. "I'm sorry for saying you left her there."
Edmund stayed silent, his gaze fixed on the necklace nestled in his palm.
"I know you wouldn't do that, and I know you would do everything to protect her," Peter said, his words reaching out, hoping to close the distance between them.
Edmund finally spoke, his voice laced with a hint of remorse. "No, you were right..." His eyes stayed locked on the pendant. "I left her there. I failed to protect her."
"Ed, listen," Peter's voice softened, understanding the weight of Edmund's guilt. "It wasn't your fault. You believed she had already escaped when we did."
He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing, "But blaming yourself won't change what happened."
Edmund remained quiet, letting his brother’s reassurance settle over him.
Their contemplative moment was abruptly interrupted by a commotion echoing from the tomb. Exchanging puzzled glances, the brothers swiftly rose from their positions and hastened inside, their curiosity tinged with a sense of urgency.
"Stop!" Peter's urgent cry echoed through the chamber as soon as he discerned the unfolding situation.
Edmund froze in his tracks, his mouth slightly agape as his eyes fell upon the sight before him.
Before them rose a towering pillar of ice, encasing the White Witch herself—the living embodiment of Edmund’s deepest fears, trapped within the frozen prison for years.
Edmund's momentary trance shattered as he shook off the shock, stepping forth with resolve, only to find himself face-to-face with the menacing wolf, an unexpected obstacle in his path.
The turmoil within the tomb escalated swiftly, Trumpkin solemnly ending the life of Nikabrik, once an ally turned traitor. Meanwhile, Peter forcefully dispatched the small witch, knocking her against the wall with a forceful kick.
Edmund pivoted swiftly, a surge of adrenaline propelling him to flee from the menacing wolf. With a swift turn, he leaped onto a nearby rock, swiftly slashing at the wolf's body, attempting to fend off the threat it posed.
Caspian remained within the circle, his arms extended towards the White Witch, a mirror image of himself, drawn into a troubling trance as she attempted to lure him closer.
He then jolted from his trance, stumbling backward as Peter shoved him aside, sending him sprawling onto the ground.
"Get away from him!" Peter's voice echoed with urgency and authority, a stern warning directed at the woman who stood dangerously close to Caspian.
With resolute determination, Peter lifted his sword, ready to face the woman who had once been their enemy. The crystalline barrier loomed between them, a chilling divide marking the return of a foe long thought contained.
Jadis' arms withdrew momentarily before she fixed her gaze on Peter with a disarming smile. "Peter, dear," she addressed him, her tone carrying an unsettling familiarity. "I've missed you."
Once more, she extended her arms beyond the icy confines, beckoning Peter towards her. Unseen by the others, Edmund stealthily crept behind the ice, positioning himself behind Jadis, her back turned to him.
As Jadis continued speaking, Edmund seized the opportunity, swiftly thrusting his sword toward the ice, aimed seemingly at her chest. A resounding crack echoed through the air, the ice forming a network of fractures before finally shattering into pieces.
Caspian and Peter exchanged shocked glances as they observed Edmund's unexpected actions.
"I know. You had it sorted," Edmund uttered with a frown etched on his face, remembering his brother's words from the train station. Without uttering another word, he turned away from the scene, leaving behind a silent acknowledgment of the situation as he walked away.
