Daggers of Ice

Chapter 42

The World Between Worlds.

Arianna.

There was nothing but dark surrounding her, suffocating as she drifted. There were walls either side of her, a corridor that shone with an ethereal emerald light.

She saw everything as if through a hazy fog, nothing was real, nothing substantial to her eyes, nothing solid to the touch.

Or it could have been her, for it was her fingers that passed through the door when she had pushed to open it. But the door of ice had hummed, almost pleased at her touch, she could feel its desire to feel her once more, to feel a part of her.

The woman's face was almost serene when she looked down upon it, as if she were merely sleeping, encased in the ice. She could feel there was something different about the ice, and when she reached out to touch it, she felt the cold; a chilly shiver ran through her spine when she realised that her hand did not pass through it. She could see other forms within those bodies; creatures trying to escape from their cage. From the cage of mortal flesh.

There was nothing but dark surrounding her, suffocating her as she drifted.

She could hear voices calling to her, voices she did not recognise, pulling her, closer and closer. She could see the room, as if she watched it through a fog, looking down upon the face of the woman encased in ice. There was nothing familiar about the hauntingly beautiful face, nor those that surrounded her.

It was upon the light that she floated, the shimmering white that laced through everything, following through the bodies of those who surrounded the bed and leaving. It followed no path; it simply entered everything it touched. The beings seemed to glow that lovely white; they were made of it, it was who they were.

She drifted lower, her glowing feet touching ice.

She felt an odd sense of detachment.

She felt cold, so so cold.

"My child," the voice was as familiar to her as her own, a low growl that sent shivers through her very being. She turned, not surprised by the form of the great lion that stood there; nor the wisdom and kindness that shone through his golden eyes. "Come with me."

It was so easy to move to him, to sink her hand into his plush mane and walk with him.

She did not recognise the place he had taken her. It must have been beautiful once, with towers that reached towards the sky, lost in the clouds, with beautiful blue skies, the air filled with merry laughter and song. But all that lay around them as they walked through the desolate streets were ruins, crumbling remains of a once-great city.

Temples, towers and palaces. The city stretched as far as the eyes could see, stark against a sky so dark it was almost black.

What once must have been a mighty river winding through the city, only streaks of murky grey dust remained.

There was nothing.

"Where are we?" she whispered the words, but they seemed a shout, disturbing the still air. She imagined that had there been any birds they would have taken flight in fright.

"Who am I Aslan? I feel so lost...I have nothing left." She gazed up at the life-size statues that lined the hall. Dwarfing her, exquisite in their beauty.

The Kings and Queens of Charn.

Such beauty, yet it meant nothing to her.

She knew who she was.

She was Arianna of Charn.

But that meant nothing to her.

She was a stranger to the desolate world.

She gazed up at the last statue. The woman was beautiful – with golden brown skin and luscious curls of the darkest chocolate, flowing down her back, held off her forehead by the beautiful golden crown. It was almost as if she were looking into a mirror – for they looked so alike. Her eyes rested on the name on the plaque.

"Why?"

"Why what, my child?" His voice was calming, much like his had been. Like water it rushed over her, through her.

"Why are you being kind to me? I have killed and ordered the deaths of many of your people. Both under Jadis's orders and not," she said softly. She would not look at him; she did not want to see the kindness there.

She ran her hands over the delicate blue silk that covered her lap.

Elaborate robes so similar to those the statues wore.

"You will not be penalised, child," he said. "For you did what any child would."

She looked up at the painting once more, wondering if the sadness shone in her eyes. "She was everything I wanted to be...I only ever wished to please her."

"You loved her as any child would love their mother."

She looked at the plaque once more.

Jadis.

Her mother.

Jadis, false Empress of Charn.

The fake Queen of Narnia.

Her mother.