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𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐉𝐄𝐓 𝐎𝐅 light spewed from Victoria's wand towards Tom, the unicorn hair core burning against the palm of her hand. She could feel her wand's rage and it could feel hers. As quick as she was, Tom tended to be quicker with his shield charm. She had to cover her face from the blast of wind that appeared when Tom's body morphed into a long pillar of black smoke. He flew away from her and she cursed underneath her breath when she saw that he landed back next to Grindelwald, whispering something in his ear.
'Lumos,' she whispered as she held her wand raised above her head—the signal she'd agreed upon with Peter. A peaceful sign to signal war.
Peter mirrored her movements and raised his sword as high as his armour allowed him to. The troops awakened with loud roars and cries of readiness. Peter was glad no one seemed to notice his sword slightly shaking with nerves or the sweat trickling down his forehead. He'd been tense before every battle he'd ever fought, but this time it reminded him of his first. However, he was also reminded of the reasons for his bravery, and how the reasons kept piling up. He no longer did it for just his younger siblings, Aslan and the innocent Narnians whose land had been taken. He did it for his people, Caspian, Florence, Alexis and so many more.
The odds had never been in his favour before, but he'd always stuck it out until the very end. And today, he intended to do the same.
'For Narnia!' he screamed at the top of his lungs and lowered his sword at once.
His white stallion galloped forward as he watched the army gathered by Tom and Grindelwald run towards them. However, it was only the beasts and magical creatures who did so. The witches and wizards remained in their spot, and as the archers on his side prepared for their attack, so did they.
The blood-stained sky filled with rainfalls of arrows and light bolts. As they rained down, the first lives were taken in front of Peter's eyes, though he didn't dare look back. He could hear the impact of the bolts and the screaming that followed right after. One thing he hated more than anything was how he had to put the lives of his own people on the line for the sake of saving their land.
He zoned in on his rapid heartbeat and the first creature to collide with him, and when they did, Peter's sword dug into the dwarf's chest, his armour never standing a chance against Rhindon—his sword that was gifted to him by Father Christmas.
Raiden was right beside him on the ground, the spear in his hands already smeared in enemy blood. As his spear pierced through a ghoul's heart, the monstrous goblin-like creature kneeling before him, Raiden kept telling himself it's either them or me. He was still a true knight at heart, and anything that was asked of him by his kings or queen, he would do. If he found their reasoning well-founded that was.
He couldn't help himself as he kept Eustace in his sight. Raiden had been trained from his twelfth birthday on how to defend himself if need be, but it wasn't hard to tell that Eustace had not. His heavy boots stepped on dwarf toes, and he'd accidentally kicked a dwarf unconscious while running away from a cyclops.
