ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱɪx: ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴛ ᴘᴀɪɴ

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                                                         WHY DO YOU SUPPOSE chaos still lives freely in a world that is so magical? That even when the place brings out the light to shimmer around everything, there is still room for the shadows of ...

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WHY DO YOU SUPPOSE chaos still lives freely in a world that is so magical? That even when the place brings out the light to shimmer around everything, there is still room for the shadows of unpleasant things to be present. How would someone be so pure yet become so vile in an instant. The explanation my grandfather had given me was straight to the point, not giving enough room for argument. He stated that in this world, a balance is needed. In every good, there is bad. And the same goes for vice versa. But there were some that were pure, two people that I know who holds both separate titles. It was the flawless kindness of Aslan in comparison to the unmixed malice of Jadis.

I had thought about my grandfather's words ever since I was a child, of why he had said that there could be fully innocent people whom would never be able to commit to the dark corner. But then when I think of it, I realized, I thought wrong. Because however kind that person may be, it still falls into the benefit of doubt. For even the weakest of those will commit to revenge if ever given the power. But to see the silver–lining would give you the fresh image of having change. And it was life, it was to make mistakes in order to be balanced enough to walk on the tightrope of humanity.

“Why are they like that?” Lucy voiced out silently, eyes glassing with unshed tears. Her sister brought her in a side hug, comforting her whilst not taking her eyes off the scene.

I remained stoic faced in observing what was happening. Numerous amounts of people were destroying the forest of the ford we were headed to. They mercilessly swung their axes, not even thinking of what they were doing. It was a scene filled with chaos and destruction, causing enough lives of Narnians to be lost. Some of them tugged on the already chopped off logs, leading it to the bridge they were working on. Sweat mattered not with them, still going on with their tasks like hypnotized Telmars not wanting to take breaks. Catapults lined up the side of the shore, them readying it for the upcoming of battles between beliefs.

Upon every drop of a tall tree was how many times I had to swallow a tinge of pain. But I didn't wish to tell it to the others due to not wanting to worry them more. I could feel them, how the dryads let out final screams of sorrowful agony until they get to rest with no justice. The creatures were known to live as long as their trees, no matter how long it may be, it would always depend on the life of their nature. And right now, they were being stripped off of ever having to continue their lives in peace.

Clicking noises of hooves nearing our location sounded from right beside us, my eyes scanning the new arrival of two men. One matched the arrogance of Trumpkin's description of the evil uncle, the person having that dark mist flowing right behind him like a cape. We hurriedly ducked to avoid getting seen, the logs stacked behind us serving as our cover.

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