𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐃 || Tirian of Narnia

Chapter Thirteen: Origin

Tirian barely saw where he was going, tripping over armor and bodies and what might have been someone's hand, but the only thing racing through his head as he ran was the glint of Mal's black hair in the sunlight and the towering monster that had seen it too.

He ducked and slid under the swing of a gargantuan blade, never stopping, no idea where Jewel was anymore.

All that mattered was speed as he rushed around the side of the hill, sheathing his sword the second he hit the rise and hauling himself up, grasping at bushes and brush, the place where his armor had pinched his arm still throbbing, but he ignored it.

Halfway up the incline the ground shook and he almost reeled back, clutching a sapling at the last second and nearly snapping it in half, one knee slamming into the earth. Shrieks erupted somewhere above him in the trees, and he knew at an instant that the tremor had been the blow of an axe in the hillside.

He dragged himself to his feet and scaled the last of the slope, supporting himself between trees as they grew thicker.

"Retreat!" he shouted as soon as he caught sight of an archer through the wood, climbing up onto the level ground just as another jolting blow nearly sent him down again. "Retreat!"

One by one heads turned at the sound of his voice, and the moment they saw him they leaped to obey, men and women and fauns and dwarfs streaking past as he ran further toward the source of the blows.

"Back! Back! Retreat!"

The first familiar face he spotted was Shadoht, emerging from the thick of the trees and slinging her bow over her shoulder. Alone.

"Where are the girls?" he gasped, and she glanced over her shoulder toward the edge of the wood.

"They were on the other side—"

He breezed past and didn't even think to tell her to go back, the Lady's footsteps crashing after him through the underbrush and out to the edge.

An axe glinted in glaring daylight and crashed into the hillside before Tirian could even take in the full scene, his arm flying out to steady himself against a tree as Shadoht gripped his shoulder and he wrapped an arm around her, too.

A ghastly shriek rent the air as the axe broke free, back into the powerful grip of the giant that was almost as tall as the hill, helmet gleaming white-silver beyond a fresh gash in the already disfigured cliff face, and a wood spirit gave one last shuddering scream before her tree split down the middle and slid away in a sea of loose sediment.

Tirian only stared in horror, until a smaller cry snapped his gaze to the near side of the earthen wound, and at last he spotted Mal, on her knees, hanging over the edge of the cliff, gripping something for dear life.

He bolted without even thinking, and Mal glanced up as he skidded to her side to find Elise dangling over the edge, clinging desperately to Mal's hand with white knuckles.

He dropped to his knees, no time to ask questions as one of Elise's hands broke free to grab his wrist and his fingers locked around her bony arm, pulling, hauling her up until she clawed her way back onto level ground, slipping precariously on loose earth.

One of Tirian's legs went over the edge before he scrambled back up and Mal pulled Elise to her feet, all three of them hurrying for the treeline.

Shadoht clutched Elise by the arm and pulled her into the forest just as another blow landed right behind them and Mal shrieked, the ground beneath her feet splitting with the crack of roots and the groan of earth, and Tirian spun just as it broke apart from the rest of the hill and Mal lurched off balance.