Narnia: The Fallen Angel

13 || Duel to the Death

Short Filler chapter!!! Enjoy (:

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(Crystalline's POV)

"Keep your blade up Ed, or he'll slice your head clean off!"

"Don't be as stiff as a wooden plank, or you'll stumble, Peter!"

"Quite eating leaves Echrik, you've been doing that for the past hour. Go and fetch Susan more arrows!"

At my command, the faun finally got off his bum and scrambled to the blacksmith's tent where all of the weapons were forged and stored. Feeling the burning heat of the sun on my shoulders, I continued to shout of commands to the two brothers dueling.

Well, if you call nimbly whacking blade against blade sloppily as dueling.

Both were panting heavily, too tired to hold the proper form I have showed them for the fifth time. The swords were grazing the grass as they barely held them up against each other and their Foreheads were dripping with sweat and soaked their hair. Their cheeks were flushed a bright red, and I almost mistaken it for a sunburn.

I knew that they were inexperienced in sword fighting, and I also knew that I was being extremely rigorous with their training, but I was eight when I first went through this; these boys aren't eight. They don't have many years to gradually grow into this, only a week at most to become the most gifted swordsmen in all the land.

If I have to put them through hell for the next few days, I will do so, especially if they can walk out of it unscathed and with a crown atop each of their heads. I will make sure it will end with them sitting on the thrones; even if it means that I might not stand next to them.

After witnessing yet another failed attempt of a swing at each other, I finally snapped. "Enough, this is atrocious. Go have a rest Edmund," I sighed.

Edmund's and Peter's sword clattered to the ground in the blink of an eye, and Edmund trudged tiredly to the tent where the refreshments are. Peter was about to follow, but I was quick to stop him. "I said Edmund, not you."

His shoulders slumped even further before he begrudgingly turned around and looked at me. I motioned him to follow me back up to the top of the hill where he stood yesterday with Aslan. I was more ahead than Peter and I was less tired, so I stood silently for a few moments, looking ahead at Cair Paravel patiently.

It's grand valour glistened against the brilliant ocean, shining gloriously as Narnia's jewel. I have never been to the castle, only heard stories of its magnificent architecture forged by the first king and queen of Narnia. It's strange to think that I am so close, just a battle away from Cair Paravel.

Once I heard his heavy panting break the whispering breeze, I turned to my left where Peter stood, clutching the hilt of his sword tiredly while looking at the view before us. "Are you exhausted?" I asked him.

I knew the answer, but I still asked. Peter gave me a look that clearly read, do I look as if I could suddenly run a mile and swim for days?

"Yes, I am exhausted," He replied in an exasperated tone after a few moments of silence. I turned away from him and glanced back to Cair Paravel. "Do you want to rest?" I asked him.

Peter drew out another breath and nodded. "Desperately."

My lips drew into a thin line, turning to face him with my sword unsheathed. I slipped into a fighting stance, holding the tongue of the sword against him as a small smirk snuck its way onto my face. "Then let's duel," was my reply. His eyes widened in shock and he froze, eyeing the blade before groaning.