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 a while to keep her safe.
However, fate had a di...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The Narnians surrounding them erupted into cheers as the two Kings of Narnia emerged from Aslan's How their countenances now etched with focused determination and solemnity.
Conversely, the Telmarines mirrored the enthusiasm, their cheers rising in volume. Miraz sat on the designated spot where he and Peter were slated to engage in their duel, flanked by the three Lords and Sera. Her stare fixated on the two kings, her expression a haunting blank slate.
Her locks of white hair were tightly gathered into an upward ponytail, while the armor she wore hugged her body flawlessly, accentuating her figure with precision.
Edmund and the girl locked eyes, once filled with affection and adoration, now met each other devoid of the spark they once held. Their gaze, once brimming with love and fondness, now appeared distant and lacking the connection that once bound them together.
As Peter observed his best friend, he noticed that outwardly, she appeared unchanged, but an altered aura emanated from her presence.
"If it should appear to be going poorly..." Miraz's whisper, coupled with the indication of the crossbow in Glozelle's hand, drew an unsettling feeling in Sera's chest. Despite the inexplicable sensation, she brushed it off.
Miraz rose from his seat as Peter, positioned across from him, unsheathed his sword with his left hand while clutching a silver shield embellished with a lion figure. The Narnians behind Peter erupted into cheers, bolstering the atmosphere with their fervent support.
"I hope your hopes aren't too dashed when I emerge victorious," Miraz quipped before securing his golden helmet.
Both kings advanced toward the center, the palpable tension and anticipation hanging thick in the air.
"There is still time to surrender," Miraz proposed as the two circles converged in the middle.
"Well, feel free," the blond Pevensie retorted, his stance unwavering.
"How many more must die for the throne?" Miraz questioned.
"Just one," Peter replied sternly as he lowered his helmet.
In a sudden surge, the two kings converged at the center, their swords colliding fiercely, resonating with the clash of metal against metal.
The Narnians held their breath, witnessing the clash of steel and strength between the two monarchs. Every maneuver, every parry, spoke of an unyielding resolve and a commitment to their cause. The sun began its slow descent, casting a golden hue upon the battleground, illuminating the gravity of the moment.
Peter's swordsmanship was swift and precise, his movements a testament to his years of training and the duty that lay heavy on his shoulders. Meanwhile, Miraz matched him blow for blow, displaying a skill that spoke of his prowess and determination.
The clash seemed to transcend time itself, the echoes of their swords resonating through the air. It was a dance of power and strategy, each combatant calculating their next move with precision.
The onlookers watched in rapt attention, their hearts pounding in sync with each strike. The outcome of this duel held the promise of a new era for Narnia, and the fate of the kingdom hung in the balance.
As the duel continued, the tension grew palpable. Each stroke of their swords seemed to define the destiny of the realm, the conflict intensifying with every passing moment. The clash was not just physical; it was a battle of ideals and determination, a testament to the courage of those who fought for their beliefs.
The scene was a portrait of valor and bravery, etching into the annals of Narnian history the valorous struggle between two kings, their swords locked in a dance that would decide the future of their kingdom.
Edmund's heart raced as he stole occasional glances at the girl across the field. 'She looks beautiful,' he thought, momentarily captivated by her presence. But he quickly shook off the distraction, knowing the gravity of the situation at hand.
Across from him, the girl seemed lost in a whirlwind of emotions. Her gaze held a strange mixture of recognition and unfamiliarity as she looked back at the brunette Pevensie. It was as if she sensed a connection but couldn't grasp its entirety.
For Cordelia—or Seraphina as she was now—the sight of Edmund stirred a vague sense of familiarity, a tug at the edges of her memories. There was a puzzling feeling, an inexplicable longing within her, a sense of knowing someone important but distant. It was a conflicted gaze, torn between the past and a new, unfamiliar reality.
As their eyes met fleetingly amidst the tension and spectacle of the duel, it was clear that despite the confusion, an unspoken connection lingered between the two, an enigmatic bond that transcended the present circumstance.
As the clash of swords resounded in the air, the cacophony of steel on steel shattered the reverie of Seraphina's conflicted thoughts and inexplicable emotions. The resounding echoes of battle served as a stark reminder of the urgency of the present moment, drawing her attention back to the duel before her.
The reverberating clash of metal slicing through the silence sliced through her emotional turmoil, demanding her focus on the intense struggle unfolding between the two kings. The raw intensity of the duel cut through any fleeting connections or perplexing sentiments, anchoring Seraphina's attention to the gravity of the battle at hand.
Amid the fierce battle, Miraz deftly knocked the helmet from Peter's head using his shield. With calculated precision, he then sought to deliver a swift and deadly blow aimed at the throat of the valiant blond Pevensie.
However, with a swift and agile movement, Peter evaded the perilous strike, deftly pulling his head back. In a display of remarkable skill and bravery, he swiftly moved into a kneeling position, delivering a decisive and well-aimed slash to Miraz's thigh, marking a pivotal turn in the intense duel.
In a harrowing turn of events, the blond Pevensie found himself sprawled on the ground, his arms pinned beneath the weight of Miraz's relentless assault.
With a calculated and ruthless maneuver, Miraz applied pressure to the very spot where the straps of Peter's shield were connected, causing an agonizing scream to escape the young king's lips as the forceful action dislocated his left arm.
Seraphina's fingers twitched involuntarily at the sight unfolding before her. She found an unexpected urge to assist the blond Pevensie, a sensation conflicting with her presumed disposition. However, she dismissed this inexplicable feeling and refocused her attention on the ongoing events.
The intense duel between Miraz and Peter persisted until the sound of a horse disrupted their focus. Caspian emerged, with Susan on his back.
Peter, grappling with the pain of his dislocated arm, called for a momentary pause in the duel. Miraz initially resisted the idea but eventually relented, allowing a brief respite in the fierce confrontation.
