The Phoenix Archer ∞ Peter Pevensie

i. | S E V E N T E E N

✧

N E R I S S A

My eyes followed the gryphon that flew overhead, losing sight of it for a moment as it flew over me before soaring gracefully back again.

"They come, Your highness. In numbers and weapons far greater than our own." The gryphon informs as it lands beside Peter, who's so nervous he looks as if he's about to throw up.

"Numbers do not win a battle," Oreius states firmly.

"No," Peter mumbles, "But I bet they help."

I shoot him an exasperated look and he simply shrugs.

"So much for staying optimistic." I grumble, "Anything else you might want to add, your majesty?"

The blare of a horn interrupts Peter before he could reply. In the distance, I spot the Witch's army flooding onto the field before us. I took a deep breath, rolling my shoulders back and preparing myself mentally for the battle ahead.

Peter raises his sword, pointing it forward- the signal for the gryphons' departure.

Just as planned, they take off, each of them
carrying boulders and as soon as they were close enough, they released them.

Boulders fell from the sky and onto the enemy troop beneath them, looking almost like a hail storm.

I feel a knot form in my stomach. I've fought my share of battles in my life, but the pre-battle jitters were still a constant part of the process. After all, wars can be unpredictable.

My heart clenched as I watched the results of the enemy's retaliation- gryphons fell from the sky, all victims to the Witch's arrows.

I balled my fist at my sides, steeling my nerves.

"We should get ready," Oreius says, holding out a hand to me.

I take it, climbing up onto his back as planned. I have never been a big fan of riding horses, but I needed a head start and Oreius was kind enough to offer a ride.

I took a deep breath as Peter turned towards us with worry-filled eyes, "Are you both with me?"

Oreius and I exchange a glance, "To the Death." We replied in unison.

For a moment, Peter catches my eye, an emotion that I couldn't put my finger on flashing across his eyes. I flash him a comforting smile, figuring he probably needed it.

It seemed to have done the trick. His shoulders relaxed slightly as he returns a smile. No doubt he was still anxious, but at least he was a little less so.

I watched as he refocused his attention on the battle ahead and I found myself having to pry my gaze away from him.

"For Narnia!" His voice echos through the field, "And for Aslan!"

Our army cheers as they followed his lead and started advancing on the enemy.

Everything around me seemed to ten times slower from all the nervous anticipation building up inside we as we charged forward.