Narnia's Shadow // Peter Pevensie

Never Be One of Them

It was break of dawn as we walked closer and closer to the river that we have to cross. My favorite time of day. The way the sun would rise up after the haunting of the night. Red, oranges, and pick mixing beautifully amongst the clouds. Or the birds chirping to wake us up.

I think the sun-rise is what keeps me going. To look at it and think that maybe someone else is looking at it too. Maybe my family is looking at it. There are bad days where I wonder if they miss me as much as I miss them. If I have a brother or sister; if they are older or younger than me. If I look like my father or my mother. How they were. If they even know that I am gone.

After, Peter went to sleep last night, the thought that they arrived here from War Drobe is a mere childishly thing to say! But, the more I thought, the more 'what ifs' came. What if, I can see my family again? What if, this is my chance to be with them? But than the faces of the Beavers, of Tumnus,.... Of Aslan came to mind and I immediately threw it all away. I couldn't possibly think about leaving them for some people that probably didn't even want me.

Aslan has told me time and time again that I was human. No matter how much I would call myself a Narnian. I knew, that deep down, I will never be one of them. But I still hoped.

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I sighed when we reached the cliff that overlooked the river. My hood was down, revealing my face to the cold breeze. My cloak was pinned together with the pendant of Aslan; it was red in the background to make the golden lion show itself to others.

"Now, Aslan's camp is near the Stone Table just across the frozen river." I told them, gesturing to the icy river that used to be so blue that you could see your reflection in it (at least that is what Tumnus told me).

"River?" Peter asked.

"Oh, the river's been frozen for a hundred years." Mrs. Beaver gave him some relief. But he still said;

"It's so far!" I wanted to hit him on the back of his head at his complain. If he was going to complain over a simple river how he going to react leading an army against the White Witch?

"It's the world, My King. What did you expect? For it to be small?" I retorted, turning around to walk down the cliff.

"Smaller," I heard Susan mutter. I didn't stay long enough to hear if she said anything else.

Lucy was standing there looking around in awe. Her wide, hazel eyes were quite innocent. It saddens me that a child her age is caught in the brick of war. If only she came back when there was no more concern for battle. But the darn prophecy had written two Sons of Adam and two Daughters of Eve. The problem is that one of the Sons of Adam was in the hands of the White Witch — the same Witch that he is supposed to be battling against. And, the youngest Daughter of Eve is eight.

I was walking behind the group, just in case any danger were to lerk out of no where. The Beavers were in front, leading the way to the camp. The prophecy only says a battle is to occur but it never once says when.

I saw Peter playing with Lucy, making her giggle and laugh. It softens me to know that he is doing it to distract her. To keep her from growing up too fast. I rolled my eyes when Mr. Beaver, yet again, shouts over his shoulders for us to hurry up.

We were already halfway across the lake, when Mr. Beaver shouted, again, "Come on, humans! While we're still young!"

Peter bends over as Lucy climbs onto his back.

"If he tells us to hurry one more time, I'm gonna turn him into a hat." Peter jokes.

"He is only enjoying it because he knows that I am in the back." I commented making them chuckle.