Chapter XXII - Only the Good Die Young

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"And truth be told, I never was yours."

This is Gospel

Panic! At the Disco

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Chapter XXII - Only the Good Die Young

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I only remember slivers of the ride to the stone table, fading in and out of consciousness

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I only remember slivers of the ride to the stone table, fading in and out of consciousness. Every time my mother used magic on me, I felt myself get weaker. My best guess is that it has something to do with my father's ring hanging from my neck with a Valyrian steel chain that my mother spelled on, making it impossible to unclasp even if I tried.

I had never really felt the loss of my power until it was gone. Before the necklace came off I could never tell the difference. Now, I could tell how weak it made me. It depleted me of all forms of strength. I was not truly myself with it on. The entire thing was created to keep me weak on all platforms.

I felt weak, but I was displayed as if I wasn't. In a gold dress of armor with a matching headpiece. It was all a show for the soldiers. I was the opening act and Aslan was the main entertainment. He looked weak as he approached the table. He was entirely broken and defeated.

"Behold. The great lion!" My mother mocks, as Aslan turns himself in to her.

A dwarf prances around Aslan, rubbing in every part of his final moments, "Do you want some milk?"

A chorus of laughter follows the dwarf. A smirk plays at the corner of my mother's mouth as she gives her next command, "Bind him!"

Within the second, about ten of her minions assigned themselves to the task, tying old ropes around Aslan's front and rear paws. Aslan let them, giving them the ability to avoid any conflict. Everyone here knows that if Aslan wanted to be free of the binds, he would be. This was his choice. A few ropes could not contain a six hundred pound lion.

As they go to tie his mouth shut, my mother holds her hand up, "Wait! Let him first be shaved."

"Is that necessary?" I whisper to my mother, trying to avoid a large disruption that would surely end worst for Aslan or me.

"Don't question me, unless you would like to join him." She threatens with ice-cold eyes, "You are a traitor after all."

"Bring him to me." She beckons next and the crowd delivers, roughly ragging Aslan's body onto the stone table, "You know, Aslan, I'm a little disappointed in you. Did you honestly think by all this that you could save the human traitor?"

I whipped my head around, facing her with no attempt to hide my rage, "No!"

I threw my hand up, expecting fire to shoot out and give my mother the death she deserved. But not even a spark came from my fingers. I pull at the necklace off but it was no use. I looked down at Aslan, who still was not fighting against the ropes. Everything seemed to be drained from him, blood trickled around the ropes and small cuts from careless shavers.

Prodigy & Prophecies ➢ Peter Pevensie [1]Where stories live. Discover now