Young Writers Society

“Ow!”

“Peter, stop!”

“That’s my foot!”

Peter and Susan then landed on their behinds. Much surprising since they were inside a wardrobe and not in some park. And much more surprising was the fact that what they had landed on, whatever it was, was wet.

Snow. They had landed on snow. And there were pine branches around them. Susan and Peter exchanged looks of wonder, stood up, and made their way past the branches, out of the wardrobe, and into an all new world altogether.

“Impossible!” Susan exclaimed, gazing at her snow-covered surroundings in wonder. Peter couldn’t help but gape openly. The land, whatever it was called, was magical. The beauty of the place awed him. Where are we?

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s just your imagination.” Lucy said with a smile as she and Edmund emerged from the back of the wardrobe.

“I,” Peter hesitated. They didn’t believe her. They made her out to be some delusional little girl. And it turned out she was telling the gospel truth. “I suppose saying sorry won’t quite cover it.”

“It wouldn’t,” said Lucy. Peter smiled sadly. He should’ve known Lucy would hold a grudge. Anyone would. “But that might!”

A snowball suddenly hit him square in the face. By Jove, it was cold!

Behind a tree, not to far away, stood a figure and its horse, a black stallion, fierce and proud. The figure looked at the four children, appraising them all, memorizing them.

The older boy, and presumably the oldest of the children, looked to be about fifteen or sixteen narnian summers. He was tall and handsome and had sandy hair. It was too far to make out the color of his eyes, but if the figure saw him again, he would be recognized. Especially in those funny-looking clothes he wore… that all the children wore.

The figure’s eyes moved on to the older girl, who appeared to be around fourteen. She was pretty, that girl and had the potential to be beautiful when she grew up. She had black hair that curled at the ends and a porcelain skin that would attract any sane male from the Northern Waste to Calormen in the south. The girl threw a snowball at the younger boy, who flinched and glared angrily at the girl

“Stop it,” the younger boy said irritably. He was skinny and was around twelve or thirteen. He could be as handsome as his brother, maybe even more, but now, his features were marred by the large scowl he wore.

The older boy looked at him as if seeing him for the first time.

“You little liar,” the older boy said.

“You didn’t believe her either,” the younger boy retorted stubbornly.

“Apologize to Lucy,” the older boy said, motioning at the younger girl, the youngest of the lot. The younger boy looked at him stubbornly. “Say you’re sorry…”

“Alright!” The younger boy almost threw his hands up in frustration. “I’m sorry!”

“It’s alright,” the younger girl – Lucy – said smugly. “I guess small children just don’t know when to stop pretending.”

The figure laughed silently. The younger boy’s expression was priceless! She had seen the little one before, once, when she had first entered the country. But that younger boy… She had not seen him before, but he had obviously been here. Where had he been?

The figure reluctantly pushed away all speculations and strained to hear the conversation.

“I thought you’d all like to meet Mister Tumnus!” Lucy said excitedly.

The figure watched the little girl sadly. She did not know what had become of her friend. She was in for a nasty surprise when she arrived at the Faun’s home. “Come on, Balan,” the figure said, to the horse. “We must follow them. I failed to watch them last time. I must not fail again.”

It was simply dragging to have to follow the children and try to keep away from the White Witch’s spies. By the time the figure and the horse reached Mister Tumnus’s abode, the children were already outside, a beaver standing on its haunches in front of them.

The older boy coaxed the beaver to come to them, holding out his hand to the animal, probably to entice it. The figure wasn’t sure if the beaver was a Beaver.

“ I ain’t going to smell it if that’s what you want,” the beaver said suddenly. A Beaver. Probably one of the two remaining Beavers at Beaversdam. The children looked surprised and shaken.

“Oh sorry,” said the boy, pulling back his hand. He looked as if he wanted to be as far away from the Beaver as possible. The other children giggled.

“Lucy Pevensie?”

Lucy stopped giggling and looked at the Beaver. She obviously hadn’t expected this.

“Yes?” Lucy asked timidly. Beaver pull out a handkneif and handed it to her.

“Hey, that’s the hanky that I gave to Mister.…” Lucy began.

“Tumus. Yeah, he gave it to me before they took him,” the Beaver said. “We better go to a safer place. The Witch has many eyes and ears…”

They, watcher, horse, Beaver and children reached Beaversdam just as it was getting dark.

“Beaver, is that you?” asked the She-beaver from the dam. “If I find out that you been out with badger again…” Then she saw the children with him. “Oh those aren’t badgers…” She looked shaken. She had just realized who this children were. Or, at the very least, who they were supposed to be. “I thought I would never live to see this day…” Then, she took on an irritated tone. “Honestly, you couldn’t have given me even ten minutes’ warning!”

“I would have given you a week if it would have helped.” Beaver said. The children laughed.

“Well come on in and let’s see if we can’t get you some food and,” the She-beaver gave her mate a sidelong glance, “some civilized company.”

The Beaver shrugged helplessly at the children, who followed the She-beaver inside. One child held back, though… The younger boy. He looked at the two hills in the distance, where the White Witch, tyrannical despot of Narnia and Queen of Evil, lived.

Watching the boy’s wistful expression was more than a bit disturbing.

“Enjoying the scenery, are we?” The Beaver appeared suddenly at the younger boy’s side. The boy was startled and came inside immediately, followed by the Beaver, who was shaking his head.

The figure watched the scene with growing concern. The White Witch… Somehow, she had managed to get her hands on the boy. And the figure had not stopped her. “I have to keep my eye on him. I cannot afford to fail again.”