✲⋅*♚ ,∴°

𝕭𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐈: 𝖂𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝖂𝐀𝐑

𝕮𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝕹𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧: rise and rise again

FLAMES BRIGHTENED THE ROOM, casting their light on the young watcher sitting cross-legged in front of the fireplace. There was a concentrated frown on her face as she stared at her hands. Nothing happened. Ashara huffed in annoyance and let herself fall backwards on the carpet. All day she'd been working on trying to upon herself up to the Deep Magic and every single time she failed.

This summer she had come of age and so her training as a Golden Watcher had finally begun. Her father had warned her that it would take time, but determined as always she'd thrown herself into her studies. She'd believed she would be able to summon the Deep Magic within no time. Alas, she was proven wrong.

She just couldn't understand what she was doing wrong. She couldn't be what she was meant to be if the Deep Magic refused to respond to her. There was something wrong when she tried to make the connection. She just couldn't figure out what...

The door to the room was opened and familiar footsteps entered. A shadow fell over her as Arvin leaned over his daughter. He raised a brow. "What are you still doing up?"

With a sigh she sat up straight, though she couldn't bring herself to meet her father's gaze. "Practicing," she admitted.

For a moment he just stood there, as if contemplating how to best respond. At last, he took a seat in front of her, a fond smile on his features. "Did I not tell you it wouldn't be easy?"

"Yes," she muttered.

He chuckled, slightly surprising her. "I should've known you were going to try anyway."

She looked up at him, feeling herself smile at his warm gaze. If there was anyone who knew how determined and eager she was, it was him. Even her mother underestimated her willingness to prove herself sometimes. Ashara always thought it was because her thought was exactly the same. He valued working hard just as much as she did.

"Alright, look closely," he said. He held out his hands, palms turned upward. His skin started glowing with a soft golden light. Slowly, the light seemed to flow from out of him. It formed two golden spheres and floated above his palms. A smile lingered in the corner of his mouth as he watched the frown on his daughter's face.

Ashara sighed. "I don't understand. That is exactly what I've been doing."

"Apparently not," he said, mirth twinkling within his eyes, "otherwise it would have worked."

"Obviously," she muttered.

Gently, Arvin extinguished the light and folded his hands on his lap. "Tell me, what do you think keeping the balance means?"

Ashara straightened her back. "Keeping two opposite forces equally strong."

"That is what the darkness would like you to believe."

Her confidence disappeared like snow beneath the snow. "But-"

"Tell me, my daughter," Arvin interrupted her, his voice calm but stern, "do you truly think that when Aslan created the world he made a place for any sort of black magic?"

Ashara frowned, then shook her head.

"So, what do you then think it means for us Watchers to keep the balance?"

She pulled her knees up to her chest as she stared at where the light had floated mere seconds ago. "I-I'm not sure."

Arvin smiled. "Balance does not mean that evil is just as strong as good. Evil is never balanced, it is instead the very cause of imbalance." He opened his palms ago and his skin started glowing. Once again the light flowed from his body to form the two spheres. "If one of these spheres would be darker than the other, what would happen?"

Ashara studied the light intently. "They would no longer be the same," she spoke slowly. "There would be no more harmony between them."

Her father nodded. "Therefore, to keep the balance, what must we do?"

"We must make sure the light is stronger than the dark," Ashara said, realization finally settling in.

"Precisely," Arvin said. "Balance is achieved when good can fully keep evil in check. That is the law as written in the Deep Magic. Never make the mistake of thinking that balance means there must be some amount of evil in this world. For anything and everything evil is against the very law of creation."

The young Watcher nodded, eyes shining with determination. The role she was about to play in guiding the Kings and Queens of Narnia slowly started to take shape in front of her.

"Now, hold out your hands," Arvin said as he got to his feet.

Ashara settled her hands on her legs, taking a shaky breath.

"Close your eyes."

She did as she was told.

"You've been trying to focus on getting the Deep Magic to come to you. Now, I want you to search it out instead."

"But how will I know what to look for?" She opened her eyes but as soon as she met her father's stern gaze, she closed them again.

"I just told you how," her father said patiently. "All you have to do is tell the Deep Magic that you understand what it means to keep its power balanced."

Ashara tried to let go of her doubts and instead focused on what she wanted to say. She formed the words in her mind, writing them in gold, shouting without sound that she understood. She knew what she was meant to do now.

A pained hiss escaped her mouth as a burning sensation crawled along her skin. She opened her eyes and watched as runes, the language of the Deep Magic, were written by an invisible hand upon her skin. A wave of warmth washed over her, as if someone had lit a fire inside her very soul. It filled her, glowed within her veins. Then, it flowed upward and formed a perfect sphere of light.

"I did it," she breathed.

Arvin smiled. "This is what it means to be a Golden Watcher, my star."

She was awoken from her sleep by a gentle hand. For a moment she thought herself to be back in her room in Cair Paravel, years younger, when her family was still alive. Though, as soon as she opened her eyes, that illusion was broken. She was laying on a cold stone ground. The only source of light was the moon peeking around the clouds. Instinctively her hand reached for the dagger hidden in her boots, only to freeze in her motion when she looked into the teary eyes of the one who'd woke her up. Susan was seated on her knees beside her, face pale beneath the silver light of the moon.

"Are you alright?" Susan asked.

"Yeah," she mumbled, "just tired." Slowly she got to her feet and as she looked around, she realized she'd fallen asleep right next to the stone table. Using such a strong amount of magic all at once must have tired her out far more than she first thought. Her heart still ached at the memory of her father appearing so strongly within her dream and she wasn't so sure being awake felt that much better...

Her gaze fell upon Lucy, staring at the still shape of the lion and then went back to Susan. Judging by their white faces and tearful eyes, they had witnessed the entire thing.

"What are you still doing here?" she asked. "Why didn't you go back to camp?"

"We-we couldn't," Susan admitted softly.

Ashara softly squeezed her arm, silently telling her she understood.

With swift steps, Lucy hurried forward. She climbed upon the table and pulled out the healing cordial she'd been given by Father Christmas.

Susan came standing next to Ashara, raising a questioning brow.

Ashara gave the slightest shake of her head.

The oldest sister inhaled with a shaky breath, accepting a fact she'd probably already known was true. Then she turned her gaze to Lucy, silent tears crawling down her cheeks. "It's too late. He's gone."

Hearing the words spoken out loud awoke the song of battle within her. A flaming urge to swing her sword at her enemies until each of them had paid off the misery they'd brought. As her eyes fell upon Aslan, however, the song was silenced immediately. He had not sacrificed his life for her to commit the same crimes as her enemies.

Susan approached the table far more hesitantly than her sister had. Though, upon seeing her tears, Susan finally climbed upon the stone and joined Lucy at Aslan's side. She wrapped her arm around Lucy's shoulders. "He must have known what he was doing."

Lucy stroked Aslan's fur. It no longer gleamed like the rays of the sun. It was dull, lifeless. The girl sobbed, tears rolling freely down her cheeks.

Their grief dulled the rage within her heart and suddenly she felt cold. Ashara stepped towards the table and knelt down in front of it, fists clenched. All those years she'd spend believing, wondering about how they would, at long last, defeat Jadis. Of everything she'd ever imagined, this wasn't how it was supposed to be. Never had she thought they would lose their Emperor. It wasn't right.

At that thought she started. It wasn't right...This was not what balance was supposed to look like. Was that not what her father had taught her? To never make the mistake of thinking evil had any place of belonging in this world?

It was only then, her eyes caught sight of the words carved into the side of the stone. As if thinking of the Deep Magic had made the letters appear. Carefully, she reached out, afraid they might disappear upon her touch. She traced the runes with her fingers, a language branded into her skin. The language of the Deep Magic itself.

Suddenly it all made sense. Aslan himself had told her this was what her father had been preparing her for her entire life. She thought he was wrong, she thought she couldn't possibly be taught to bear losing him. She should've known better by now. The Great Lion was never wrong.

It started with that lesson by the fireplace all those years ago and this was where it ended, where she finally understood the real meaning of the runes carved into her sword. The words of her ancestors. "And when they seek to oppress you. And when they try to destroy you. Rise and rise again and again. Like the Phoenix from the ashes. Until the lambs have become lions and the rule of Darkness is no more."

"Rise and rise again," she whispered softly.

It wasn't a motto at all. It was an instruction.

They didn't have to mourn. They had to fight.

Ashara stood so suddenly that both Susan and Lucy startled. She opened her mouth, but swallowed her words at the very last moment. How could she tell them what she knew? They would think she was trying to console them with meaningless words. A week ago Susan didn't even believe in magic and now Ashara would ask her to believe Aslan would return from the dead? And what if she was wrong? What if she was just seeing what she wished to see? Could she bear the burden of giving them false hope? After all, there had to be a reason Aslan himself had not said a word to any of them either.

And so, instead of saying all she wished to, she said: "We have to tell the others."

Lucy's eyes widened. "We can't just leave him."

"The Witch is gathering her army. There's no time," Ashara said, trying to sound both calm and stern, just as her father had always been able to. "They have to know."

She watched as Lucy stared at the lion with teary eyes and knew there was no way the young girl would abandon her watch. Had she not realized the truth, Ashara doubted anyone could have gotten her to leave either...

"I'll go," she offered.

Susan, though she seemed hesitant at the thought of leaving, looked at her with panicked eyes. "But what if they return?"

Ashara shook her head. "They won't. The Witch has done all she could here. She will require every one of her followers to fight." She stepped forward, looking the future queen in her eyes, wishing her to feel the weight of her words. "You will be safe here. Trust me, I would not leave you here alone otherwise."

For a moment Susan held her gaze, then she nodded. "I trust you."

Her heart glowed upon hearing those words and she bowed her head.

Then she turned around and started running.

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Hey guys! I'm back!

I've been so excited to write a flashback between Ashara and her father. Hopefully the magic rules weren't too complicated. I love diving into the Deep Magic and adding my own lore to it. I think the words of Ashara's family motto are really cool. I gotta say though I didn't create them myself. It's a poem by Maitreya.

As always, please leave some comments on this chapter. I'd love to hear from you guys!

See you again next time!

xx Nelly