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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"Give them pleasure. The same pleasure they have when they wake up from a nightmare." ― Alfred Hitchcock
Narnia, 2557.
Tash was shaking Olivia.
His strong hands were on her shoulders without her realising it, eyes, mind and body completely stoic. "Hey!" He whisper-shouted, careful not to grab the attention of any other Narnians. "Wake up, idiot!"
"Yeah, it is; now get yourself together." He said, letting her go. "Humans." Tash rolled his eyes.
Her mouth felt dry, looking at Susan from afar. Two years since she last saw the people she called family, and suddenly, they seemed to be popping up from every corner.
Rishda smiled at Susan, arm wrapping around hers. He cleared his throat, directing his attention back to the crowd. "Dwarfs," He called. "You seem to misunderstand. Anyone can see Tashlan if they wish. He's not coming out, but you can come in."
Many Narnians began bowing and thanking Rishda and the ape, and they stumbled upon themselves, everyone rushing forward and attempting to reach the stable.
Shift raised his hands. "Stop! Calm down!"
"But you said–"
"Easy, one at a time!" He scoffed. "Who'll go first? Just a reminder that Tashlan hasn't been feeling very kind after swallowing Tirian and the so-called Olivia."
Olivia opened her mouth in shock. He killed her off?! She turned to Tash and said. "I am going to kill that stupid ape."
The animals came to a halt, mumbling incoherent things about Tashlan's anger. Tirian's head disappeared in the distance, probably making a plan with Eustace and Jill. The crowd was now too afraid to enter the stable, and the dwarfs yelled about Calormenes waiting inside the stable, swords ready to kill a Narnian and pretend it was Tashlan.
Suddenly, Susan's gentle voice broke through the crowd. "How about you?" She asked the cat, Ginger. "Why don't you enter the stable, kitten?"
The cat stammered in his words, shily rubbing his paws. "Oh, I–"
Susan reached out and rubbed his head. "If you have been faithful, then you have nothing to fear."
Ginger purred. "Fine," He said, and the dwarfs began shouting in protest. Olivia watched as the cat gulped, and he went inside.
Silence enveloped the crowd as the seconds passed by, waiting for Ginger to come back. A loud hiss echoed in the large field, the cat meowing uncontrollably and running away. They watched as he got away, and nobody did anything to stop him. His fur was standing on end as if it had been struck by lightning.
