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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"Know thy self, know thy enemy. A thousand battles, a thousand victories." - Sun Tzu
Narnia, 2557.
Battles were nasty affairs.
Digory used to teach Olivia that no matter how glorious it seemed in the books, it was never pretty in real life. He commonly used World War II as an example, something that would be forever marked in the history books.
As a little girl, she liked reading about it. And then, in Narnia, she always won. So, she never thought twice about her grandfather's words. Now, watching as Tirian and his small mutiny charge at the Calormenes, she recalled her grandfather's words.
She was helpless. Even if she joined, she would do nothing. There were too many Calormenes and too few Narnians. She had already turned battles around; however, there was no way she could do the same with this one.
The arrows of the dwarfs began shooting the Calormenes, exclaiming their motto: "The dwarfs for the dwarfs!" It was some help, but not enough.
In such a short period, every single one of them had their arms tied and mercilessly kneeling before Rishda Tarkaan, the Calormenes celebrating. Even the dwarfs laid helplessly on the ground, and there was no more celebration of 'the dwarfs for the dwarfs!'.
It had been a short battle, but Olivia was glad to see they were still breathing. She and Tash were now hiding instead of being in the back of the crowd, him holding her back with his godly strength.
Rishda Tarkaan reached Susan, using his finger to lift her chin. "Who are you?" He asked lowly. Susan spat in his face in response.
He wiped it off, disgusted. "You could've been glorious by my side," He told her, still holding her chin. "Still, you chose them. How pathetic."
"I will always choose Narnia, you spineless sap!" She snapped, glaring at Rishda.
The Calormene laughed, and the soldiers copied his movement. "So be it." He declared and let go of her face.
Tirian hopelessly stared at the ground. He had a legacy to uphold, and he couldn't do it. He would never be as good as his ancestors, as the other Kings. He would be the last one, and because of him, Narnia had succumbed. It was all his fault. It was the last battle, and even that he couldn't do gloriously.
"Oh, great Tash, come to us!" Rishda began, holding his arms out. "We bring you tributes and presents! Our victorious sir, appear!"
Tash stopped holding Olivia, and a grin spread across his face. He cracked his neck and knuckles, his body morphing into the horrid form from before. His evil laughter ricocheted like thunder in the dark sky. His tall figure held out his hand for Olivia as soon as he was transformed, grinning wickedly.
