Chapter 9: A Choice

429 17 4
                                    

 I'm back at the castle. I stare up at its menacing figure in the darkness, almost second guessing myself. I'm really doing this. Who knows what will happen in the next few hours?

I'm waiting with the Narnian army for our signal to head inside. There's no doubt in my mind that we've been noticed already, but I think we're prepared. I feel the sword attached to my belt and my hand shakes a little. The minotaur I first met at camp nods at me slowly. I nod back and face forward.

I see a blinking light out of the corner of my eye. I look up and see that it's Edmund giving us the signal from a lookout tower. As I march forward with the rest of the army, I feel nervous butterflies building up in my stomach, but I know we're doing the right thing.

***

I don't feel much need to describe the entire strike situation, partially because I don't remember much of it, due to the amount trauma it caused me. Sometimes it's better to spare the boring details anyway. I do remember feeling severely rushed with adrenaline, but very little of the events leading up to a life changing decision I made. I'll do my best to recreate it so I don't create a hole in my narrative.

***

I stumble backwards onto my old lookout tower. The wind whips through my long hair, obstructing my view.

My mother had found me and chased me outside, most likely with the intention to kill me. Thankfully, I had seen no sign of Miraz, but somehow seeing my mother was worse.

"You," she shouts, tears streaming down her face, "You ruined my life!" She steps forward and I take a step back.

"All your father ever wanted was a son," she cries, "He loved me before you were born." She's getting closer, and I'm becoming increasingly nearer to the ledge.

"This isn't anyone's fault," I put my hands out in front of me. "There's still time to get away from him."

"Why?" she screams at me, shoving me into the wall. I stagger and lean back, almost losing my balance and falling to my untimely death. "I have a son now, your father loves me again. Why would I give that up to eat dirt in a village full of Narnian scum?"

"Your son can come too," I grip the edge of the wall. "Please, don't do something you'll regret."

My mother moves her head inches from my face. "The only regret I ever had was not killing you the second you were born." She shoves me back against the ledge; one wrong move and I'm finished. "Now you're going to pay for all the misery you caused me."

Life is a strange thing. You can spend years preparing for something, only to have it crumble before your eyes in a matter of seconds. I had always dreamed of having a close, nurturing relationship with my mother, but in this moment, none of that desire mattered to me. It was almost as if those wants never existed. I had a real family now, people who supported me. This woman may have brought me into this world, but the hatred that I saw in her eyes negated any sympathy I had left.

I scream and kick her to the ground. I make a run for the exit back into the castle, but she grabs my ankle as I try to run past her. There's no way to escape her wrath; she wants me dead.

"Give up, traitor," she says, "You're no hero."

I wrench my ankle out of her grasp and try to sprint away, but my mother scrambles off the stone floor and runs after me. I barely make it into my deserted bedroom when she seizes my hair and throws me against the wall in an attempt to knock me out. Thankfully, she doesn't gage this very well and merely bumps me into the wall. Millions of thoughts circulate in my mind as she desperately tries to get me back outside. At the thought of being pushed to my death by my own mother, I know what I have to do.

I lunge forward at her, pushing her to the ground and sliding both of us back onto the tower. She frees her left hand and digs her fingernails into my cheek as I cry out in pain. She drags them downward slowly, drawing blood that soon drips onto her face below mine. I draw my sword in defense, crying hysterically. I lift myself off of her writhing body. She quickly sits herself up, but my actions are unstoppable at this point.

I stab her repeatedly, my body trembling with each motion. Tears stream out of my eyes rapidly, hearing myself scream like a child. My mother finally gives out, her cold hatred for me eternally etched on her face.

"I'm sorry," I say hoarsely.

I waste no time and run. Through the corridors, down the stairs, and into the courtyard. I notice that the gates to the castle are being closed and everyone is trying to get out. I stumble through, muffled screams and final cries for help filling my ears.

This is my fault. Innocent lives are being lost because I was born a girl.

I drop to my knees in the midst of the chaos. Arrows are barely missing my head, but I don't try to avoid them. I hear Caspian's voice call out to me along with the sound of my own hiccups as I continue to sob. He runs over and slings my numb body over his shoulder as he gets back on his horse and runs through the closing gates. 

I pick my head up to make eye contact with the kind minotaur, who is using the last of his strength to hold the gate up for the remaining Narnians. His eyes are filled with tears.

Far too many creatures are still left in the courtyard, desperately trying to find a way out. The minotaur suddenly gives a great cry and collapses under the weight of the gate, arrows sticking out of his back. I yell after him as he becomes smaller and smaller in my line of vision. Caspian holds onto me tighter as he hurriedly makes his way back to camp with the survivors.

My mother was right. I'm no hero.

The Forgotten Princess: A Narnia StoryWhere stories live. Discover now