This is the tale of a journey that takes Luna not only to discover the world beyond Narnia's borders; she will find a purpose that goes deeper than protecting her king.
» That's why. I can't protect you the way I should... « As she looks into his ey...
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It is a quiet night. Well, it is always quiet down here on the beach, nestled at the foot of the cliffs just below the castle. Or palace. Timea doesn't care for the proper designation for it. Cair Paravel, the centre of Narnia, home to King Caspian. The mermaid laughs shakily, clapping her tail onto the shallow water. Impatient. All the more now as she waits for the full moon to finally rise. She always has been impatient, driving the members of her shoal, especially the elders, mad at times. But her past endeavours have never included a half-dead friend, so she has a very good reason to be restless now. Since the Dawn Treader reached the harbour, she has remained close to the shore, always keeping an eye out for the king. When he was forced to take walks, away from Luna's side, Timea would swim up to the beach and receive news of her friend. He had made it a point to come at least every two days. Now, however, the fourth has passed, and Timea's impatient tendency has grown to anxious concern. Triton's beard, her webbed hands shake as she lifts one up in front of her to remove the sand from under her nails. A fruitless attempt – she is covered in sand from head to fin as she lies in the shallow. The small waves breaking over her only worsen it. She would love to simply dive back into the deep, washing off these scratchy grains. Alas, she cannot, damned to wait for the pale face of the moon to work its magic and change her. Her stomach twists at the thought – she has only changed once before, and only because she had to. To learn, her father had said. The mermaid sighs, pressing her hands into the wet sand as she looks up. A few clouds, mere swathes, shimmer as the moon glows brighter. Finally.
After pulling herself onto dry land, she had tried to stand – wobbly and unsuccessful. Within a few hours or so Timea can walk in serpentine lines. It is barely dawn as she stalks over the sand towards the path up to the castle she has seen humans take. Heaving, she reaches the garden. The feeling of grass under her bare feet is strange, tickling, and soft. She giggles, holding onto a tree with both hands while brushing one foot lightly over the blades of green. It is another kind of soft than the sand before, and quite different from sea grass. Only then does she register the rough bark of the tree under her palms. Goodness, she must look like a merling*, discovering the world for the first time. Thank Aslan it is still dark enough, no one will see her in this childish wonder!
Timea continues her path towards the castle, swaying like a drunk and halting then and there to inspect a certain flower, a beetle, or whatever else she has never seen before. Lights flicker in the one or other window, so people are waking and preparing for the day. The walking mermaid nods to herself, already forming the questions of how to get to Luna. Before she can continue, a sound reaches her ears. She blinks, tilting her head. It is a bit different than with merpeople, but she is certain somebody is crying. Not the blubbering, bawling kind. The quieter one, secret, alone. She follows the sound and promptly stumbles over two legs. With a yelp, she finds herself on the ground. Great. Laboriously she turns and sits up, finding herself at the feet of a stone statue, the legs are attached to a dark-haired boy curled up beside. Wide eyes stare at her, mouth slightly agape as if he forgot to cry.
