The Chronicles of Thalia

Chapter 19- The Battle

I AM BACK AND I AM SOO HAPPY.

If you may much attention to your notifications, you'll see that I've already published this chapter. It took me so long cos my original version was deleted. But going through a half dozen random untitled documents on my laptop, I FOUND ANOTHER FREAKING COPY OF THE CHAPTER. LIKE. MIRACLES DO HAPPEN GUYS.

So I am ecstatic to present to you, the actual chapter 19 of Chronicles:: The Battle.

>>Adry Grace

I stand next to Edmund and Peter, feeling severely out of place as the Telmarines charge toward us from above ground, and the Narnians charge from underneath it. I listen to Peter count, nervously muttering the numbers under my breath. "Seven... Eight... Nine..."

"Charge," Peter's voice rings out and the three of us charge together, and I watch with delight as Caspian emerges from the ground leading an army. It's not everyday you get to see a thing like that. The feeling of delight vanishes as quickly as it arose, as the Telmarine forces collided with the Narnian ones. I gather up all my will power and charge into battle. I was a diplomat, not a warrior, but sure as hell was going to hold my own. Or at least keep Mr. Knight-in-Shining-Armor within saving range at all times. You know, whichever became necessary.

This battle with the Telmarines was comparable to the one with the White Witch, the solider vastly outnumbered ours, but the playing field was ours. And we had Aslan on our side- or so we hoped. Once again the soldiers were all bigger and stronger than me and once again there was a constant fear in the back of my mind of what if Edmund dies? Darn it, Thalia, concentrate.

I already have killed more people than I had hoped to kill in my entire time in Narnia but still Telmarines kept coming at me. One soldier charges me and as he approaches I realize with some amount of wonder that the soldier is not much taller than I am. What a poor, sad little man. The man attacks me fiercely, and I quickly realize that what he lacks in height he makes up for in strength and skill. We cross swords and for a second I lock eyes with him through his helmet. What I see there surprises me. His bright blue eyes are filled with fear. What kind of heartless soldier was this, with the height of a girl and the fear of a child? Our blades are still crossed and I push at him with all of my strength. It surprises him, he falls to the ground, his helmet fall off. I've won, it won't take much now to finish, but as I approach I am filled with the sudden urge to cry. This was no man. It was a boy.

He couldn't have been older than twelve. His features were extremely Telmaranian, the dark hair, the sharp jawline, the medium skin tone, everything except his eyes. Those were a striking blue, like the blue in a flame. Only a flame is filled with angry passion, this boys eyes were filled with fear and innocence. I can't find it in myself to kill him. My sword lower, the tip touching the ground. I wouldn't kill this child. He reminded me of Edmund.

The boy had no such sympathies, however. He sees my hesitation and gribs his sword, getting to his feet. He swings his sword at me and I lift mine just in time to block it, but I fall to the ground. He stands over me triumphantly.

"Compassion has no place in war." He says, and I sense that he is not saying it to me but reminding himself. Of the words he had been force-fed, probably from birth. I close my eyes, ready to accept my fate. I would not kill this boy. But his blade does not reach me, and I hear him fall with a thump. My eyes fly open to see Edmund standing over me now, and he was angry.

"What were you thinking?" he yells at me. "You had him down!"

"He reminded me of you." I whisper my response, but he hears it and the anger leaves his eyes. It's replaced with fear. Just like the Telmarines boys.

"RETREAT!!" Peter's voice calls. "Back to the Howe!" Edmund helps me to my feet as he says, "You can't go around sparing every one who reminds you of someone you know. You'll die if you think that way."

"I know." I whisper. "But Ed, he was so young." Ed sighs, grabs my hand and pulls me back toward the Howe. "We're supposed to be retreating." We're halfway there when the door into the Howe collapses. That's not supposed to happen. Ed disappears from besides me as I watch Susan dangling from the ledge, the only thing keeping her from falling was Trumpkin's hand. He swings her and she lands safely on another block of what used the the door of the Howe. I rush up to Peter and Caspian at same time Edmund does. We were doomed. Susan comes up to us. I watch as she and Peter exchange looks, then Peter turns back towards the Telmarines.

"For Narnia!" His voice rings out. "And for Aslan!" Just the mention of the name fills me with vigour and excitment. We had Aslan on our side, I just knew it. We charge back into the tangled mess of Narnians and Telmarines. We were going to win this battle, we had to. That's when the trees came to life.

In the Golden Age, I'd had a friend who was a driad. A lovely chestnut tree named Chester. Best friend wise, Chester had given Edmund a run for his money. Now Chester waved at me as he passed by, at least three Telmarines tangled in his roots. Yes, Chester still gave Edmund a run for his money. But generally people don't marry trees.

Great Aslan, where had that thought come from? Darn it, Thalia, concentrate. I forced my attention back to the battle. The Telmarine soldiers are falling back. There are scattered cries of 'to the river.' Edmund appears by my side. "Chester's here," I tell him cheerfully.

"Let's have social hour another time, shall we?" Edmund says grumpily, ah he remembers Chester then. "We have battle to finish." The battle was already finished though. The Telmarines retreat didn't work quite as well as they had hoped. Aslan was waiting at the river. Lucy stands next to him, dagger in hand, a confident smirk on her face. It was official. They were all going to die.

As they begin to charge across the bridge, the river now comes to life, taking the shape of an old man. I hadn't know a niyad lived in this river. That's when I spot my old buddy Sopespian on the bridge. I couldn't help but feel relieved when the niyad basically face planted into Sopespian. "That was the man from the dungeon," I say to Edmund. He grips my hand.

"I better not hear about any nightmares about him then," he says, "You're safe now, Thalia Rose. I'm sorry I didn't say so sooner." His words make me smile. I had the greatest best friend in the world. I wouldn't have traded him for the world. "Now let's go see, Aslan, shall we?"