The Heir of Aslan || Narnia

Chapter 15- Breaking And Bending Every Moral

I didn't see it coming
But I never really had much faith
In the universe's magic, oh no
Till it pulled us to that time and place, and I'll never forget
When the floodgates opened, we, we cried an ocean
It still has me choking, it's hard to explain
I know you know me, you don't have to show me
I, I feel you're lonely, no need to explain
- Mother Tongue, Bring Me The Horizon

𝚃𝙷𝙴 Pevensie brothers worked through the night, with more power at their finger tips than ever before. With their ideas, combined with those of Oreius, it was simple to come up with a battle plan. There was so much to do, however, between the four of them, they could manage it.

James was exhausted. Worry seeped through his veins as he helped Peter decide who would be placed where on their chosen battle field. Despite being at the head of the decisions, his mind was focused on only one thing: his sisters.

Were they safe? That was the main thing, that was the only thing really. He knew well enough that Lucy and Susan could take care of themselves, but their environment would be the deciding factor. As long as they were safe, he didn't mind, but as they didn't know, it played over like a broken record.

Due to their hard work, by morning, the soldiers had assembled on the Fords of Beruna. Dressed in their armour, thousands stood patient but anxious, awaiting inevitable orders. The scarlet and silver tones could be seen from the sky. They were a herd, a collective body of like-minded people ready to risk their lives for the greater good.

On the most majestic unicorn, Peter was at the front of the troops. He looked out to the battle field, maybe pondering his future there, and the horrific things that were bound to happen. There was little to do to change it now. Aslan was dead, and James needed to avenge him.

The eldest Pevensie was by his side, along with Oreius, blonde hair covered by a helmet. The chainmail weighed him down, the horse beneath his standing strong. James was placed beside his younger brother, not only for support, but for strategic purposes. No one could deny how skilled a fighter James was, and they needed him, even if his morals opposed it.

Near the top of a cliff, with the archers, Edmund waited with the beavers. He would be in charge of the signals and timings of it all. Finally, as he wanted, he was important.

They spent a while in silence. It was supposed to be calming, the see the archers of grass laying out, untampered. There was nothing to do, but wait, that was the problem. Too much waiting, and too much tension.

All James could think of was his Mum. What would she do if anything happened to any of them? The boy didn't know. She deserved nothing less than all of them returning home, unscathed. Unfortunately, James had a gut feeling that something was going to twist. It would all go pear shaped soon enough.

Soon enough, a griffin flew overhead, and hawked louder than a steam trains engine. There was only one thing that it could mean. The bird landed on the rock beside Peter, before talking to him.

"They come, Your Highness, in numbers and weapons far greater than our own."

Oreius, as composed as ever, spoke. "Numbers do not win a battle."

"No." They heard horns begin, and knew the Witch was incoming. Peter breathed in, nervous. "but I bet they help."

"Have faith." Said James, though the words weren't just for his brother.

Within moments, the Witches army came across the plain. The first to appear was a Minotaur, it's fur thick and black, with an axe in its hand. It made James gripped his firmly.