Edited: 11/30/2024

When left to contemplate the multitude of potential catastrophes that could occur at any given moment, time tended to fly. Briar learned this in Telmar's castle. With each passing year, Caspian's little sister became more and more aware of the gravity of their situation—being the children of a king under his brother, who coveted the throne for his own line.

Briar sat upon the top of the rocky hill on a patch of soft grass. The clouds swirled in smoky plumes behind her, taking the remaining showers deep into the forest. It left a dampness to the air that seeped into her skin.

Wolves moved at the base of the rocky hill hiding the shoreline. Occasionally, they'd steal a glance at her. Curiosity glittered in their eyes—yet another Frostborn was in their midst. Briar had put two and two together. Frostborn were the ancient race of half-giant, half-Jinn, who wielded magic in Charn. When Jadis spoke the Deplorable Word, causing her sister to flee to another world and arrive with the first Telmarines, the Frostborn blood was preserved. Her descendants, or at least the ones who were magically adept, were also Frostborn.

Therefore, the wolves respected Briar. They trusted her to fulfill the prophecy, whatever that meant. It should've made her feel at ease, but her stomach still churned. The Eight Moons pack expected the same greatness from her that came from her ancestors. Yes, she'd gained an alliance. Yes, she had somewhere safe to stay away from Narnians and Telmarines.

Yet, in all 15 years of Briar's life, she'd never felt sicker.

She needed to figure out a plan to get back into Narnia, handle Caspian, handle her reputation, win a war, and fulfill a prophecy.

Those were all daunting tasks. So, Briar started with the easiest one: solving the prophecy's meaning. She sighed, twisting a blade of grass between her fingers, missing the familiar, idle play with her dagger. "Traitors' steps aligning..." she mumbled.

Aligning meant meeting. Perhaps a meeting of traitors.

Meeting! Briar remembered with a jolt. They're meeting tonight! Maybe they were the traitors in question. After all, they had met on the outskirts of the woods to share the news of the Pevensies' arrival. Their language had been harsh and unforgiving. They fitted the bill for a traitor.

Briar began to formulate a plan in her head. I can find out who they are, I just have to get to the Great River crossing before high moon. Thankfully, she had kept track of the direction she'd ran and could retrace her steps to the river. From there, she'd just follow it.

Briar leaned her head back against the tree, glaring up at looming branches above her. She was beginning to understand what Alpha Zhade meant by his warning. The burden of a prophecy was no joke. Maybe I should talk to someone.

What about Edmund? A small voice asked.

His words echoed loudly in her head. You're just like her. Briar wondered what he thought of her now. What if he'd put together the truth?

That would be it. She'd be on her own.

It wasn't liked Briar wasn't used to it. Her whole life, despite Caspian's relentless support, she'd been alone; it didn't matter whether she was in the castle or not. But that didn't mean she wanted to be, especially when she'd had a taste of what it was like to face dangers with others, like Angelina or Edmund.

Even if Edmund knew the truth and didn't hate her, it was doubtful that Briar could get his help, anyway. Trajen likely spread word of her similarity to the White Witch to the entire Fortress already. If he were smart, and he seemed to be, Edmund would avoid any chance of repeating his previous situation.

Briar sat up straight. I'll just have to go to the meeting tonight by myself, she decided. The stakes might've changed, but nothing had changed about her capability to eavesdrop. The only thing she sorely lacked was weaponry.

She let loose the nervous braid she'd tied in her hair. It fell in ribbons down to her sides. Briar tucked her hair back and stood up and. Dusting herself off, she abandoned her spot at the top of the hill and made her way down to where Zhade conversed with a few members of the pack. She wiped the clamminess off her hands, taking a deep breath.

"Alpha Zhade!" she called.

Zhade stood a little taller. He turned to face her, ears pricked forward.

"My next steps are set out for me," reported Briar with a tentative smile. "However, I'm in need of provisions."

One of the wolves, a smaller, nimble female with sandy fur, stepped forward. "What sort of provisions?"

"Weapons, although I don't suppose you have any." She played with her fingers and squinted up at the sky. It was difficult to tell the time of day, however the environment had begun to dim.

Zhade frowned. "I'm sorry, but you will have to return to the Fortress for those. Although, you aren't entirely without the means to defend yourself." His amber eyes gestured to her hands.

Briar swallowed. "Right, well, I'm headed out, then." He wasn't entirely wrong, but he wasn't right either. She could wield magic, but what if she had another outburst? She had no idea where it came from and if it would happen again. Who knew how many untapped abilities she still possessed? I'll just keep it as a last resort, she told herself.

"You're going to have to face them, Your Majesty."

That was her cue. Briar turned on her heels towards the entrance. "I know," she replied over her shoulder. She almost ran into Mageen in the narrow crevice that led into the camp.

"You're leaving? Would you like accompaniment?" he asked.

"No," she said quickly, "but thank you. I'll be back late tonight." He gave her a nod of acknowledgement as she slipped back out into the forest.

Undergrowth rustled its welcome, gossiping with the trees in rippling whispers. The presence of light, sunless with the storm clouds, was beginning to dim rapidly. Briar quickened her footsteps, securing the bandages wrapped around her arm.

* * *

Retracing her steps hadn't been a problem. She'd followed a strand of water that led to the Great River. It eroded the earth over time, creating a gorge beneath the forest roots. The water gurgled, tumbling over the rocky shallows unpleasantly. Briar presumed she could wade in up to her calves, but she stayed far from its edge. Instead, she hugged the rocky, plated wall.

The gorge reminded her of the ravine Edmund showed her, but it was different. Moss and vines spiraled down from the top of the walls, and tree roots poked out and wrapped around the jutted rocks. The gorge had been around a few hundred years, and the river had fertilized the surrounding earth to cause the overgrowth of vegetation.

She had just begun to second-guess whether she may have miscalculated what night the meeting was when a voice carried to her ears.

"All is in motion," reported a familiar gravelly voice. "I will be rewarded for my accomplishments."

"Your presence puts my plan into jeopardy," scolded another. "So do not expect thanks."

A dog-like snarl echoed into the hollow. "We only achieve victory because of me."

A cold rock dropped in Briar's stomach. It sounded like a wolf.

"No," rasped the other. Their voice was like a knife to sandpaper. "I foresee your callous ignorance. We do not stop. We do not claim our success until the task is done. Now quit wasting my time. Where are the components?"

There was a beat of silence before a response. "We have not yet found the crux."

"I have found another to retrieve what we seek. You better not have come empty-handed."

"Do not patronize me!" snarled the wolf. "I have news from the inside, but first—"

In the distance, a twig snapped. If it weren't for how far away the sound had come from, Briar almost thought she'd stepped on the twig. She scanned the cliffside where it had originated. Off the side of the cliff, a few stray leaves were twirling to the ground. Curious.

After a beat of silence, one of the voices shrieked. "Who goes there?"

A figure splashed through the shallows. In the misty, gray moonlight, their shadow looked humanlike. "I hear something."

There was a flash of color, and Briar heard more leaves skitter. Her eyes were not deceiving her; she'd seen a trace of blue. She swore under her breath. Edmund.

I can't believe you came.

One of the accomplices waded loudly towards the noise. Briar bent down, quietly scooping up a river stone. Gripping it in her good arm, she looked towards the other side of the creek. She hurled the rock with all her might and then pressed her back to the side of the ravine. It clattered in the distance.

She held her breath. Hopefully, that'll do it.

"This is a terrible spot to eavesdrop, you know." someone whispered in her ear.

Briar almost struck Edmund in the head with a rock. She'd seized it and whirled around, catching herself at the last possible second. Her muscles froze, likely from the burning heart attack at how close he'd gotten.

"Gods, Edmund." She exhaled sharply and put her forehead on the back of the wall. For a second, there was only the feeling of her heart racing. Then, her mind suddenly cleared. Realization hit her. Edmund was here. Despite her outburst yesterday, despite the ice, despite the fact that he connected her similarity to Jadis...he was still standing in front of her.

"Why are you here?"

Edmund frowned. "We agreed to meet here, didn't we?"

Briar blinked at him stupidly. "Well, yes."

"Then there you go." He shrugged. His gaze drifted away from hers and settled on the improvised weapon in her hand. "Going to bash my head in with a rock, just like Peter?" he asked. "That's low."

Briar lowered her hand, pulling the hair out of her face. "If you sneak up on me again, I just might," she whispered fiercely, before mumbling under her breath, "Some thanks I get."

"For what?"

"For saving your ar—"

"Who's there?" barked a voice suddenly.

The two children went dead silent. Briar winced at her own stupidity. They were not quiet.

The voice exploded from above. "Show yourself!"

They exchanged a wide-eyed look. Whoever it was, they were almost on top of them. Edmund's hand flew to the hilt of his sword, and he turned to Briar, mouthing can you make us invisible?

Her mouth parted and then clamped shut, fear slackening her expression. Conflict swam through her head. She'd attempt to, but after yesterday...she couldn't afford another accident. I can't risk it.

She shook her head.

Confusion plastered his features. Then, he scanned their environment, searching for ideas. After a moment, he tapped her arm and gestured for her to follow as he jetted down one of the veins near the gorge. She pelted after him and veered around the corner. Loose gravel skidded out from beneath her feet. She almost lost her footing, but adrenaline commanded a subconscious precision to her steps.

Edmund skidded to a halt and near an alcove carved in the side of the gorge. She stopped beside him. In front of them, the river stretched out and left a still, calm reservoir in the chamber.

He quickly waded into the water, wincing at the small splashes around his legs. The pool submerged him up to his waist. He drudged back behind the wall of the hollow before noticing that he wasn't being followed.

Briar hadn't moved. She was stiff as a board, standing at the edge of the water. Her heart pulsed in her throat, blurring her vision.

"This way," the wolf reported from around the corner.

"Come on," Edmund urged.

Her eyes flew wide. They were right there. The instinct—or sheer will to survive, rather—kicked in, and she waded into the pond. The water numbed her legs, creeping higher and higher, threatening to engulf her.

She halted when the water hit her thighs. Memories flooded and her vision. Pressure slammed on her shoulders. Her uncle's hands. They knocked her into the river bed, engulfing her in burning water. It flushed through her eyes and nose, burning every crevice of her face. Its roar rumbled in her ears, the searing burn of water flooding through her airway, her nose, her lungs...

Her body was dead before she was. If I don't move, I won't feel it. It won't hurt me, she repeated, it can't hurt me.

Edmund watched her, his muscles tensing. She wasn't moving fast enough. Something was very wrong. She'd been about to hit him upside the head only seconds ago. Now, she was rendered motionless.

Taking matters into his own hands, he abandoned his spot by the wall. He grabbed her by her good arm and pulled; it was like dragging a stone statue. He pushed her behind the wall first, just in time for the glow of torchlight to pass by. They huddled against the barrier, chest-deep in water. It was then that he heard Briar's ragged, struggling gasps for air.

Her heart pounded loudly in her throat. Water seared her skin like acid. It whispered of drowning, of the hands that had tried to submerge her in her grave.

Briar, what's wrong? Edmund tried to ask. She didn't respond. He bumped her shoulder lightly. Her eyes fixed straight ahead. It was like she didn't even know he was there.

Then, he felt it. She was trembling uncontrollably. It cast ripples across the water, causing the moon's reflection to shiver. Every subtle movement, every tiny splash seemed amplified in the hollow, a potential signal to the enemy. He winced, stealing a glance around the side of the boulder. The shadows kept moving, conversing in quiet whispers. They hadn't noticed the movement—yet.

Edmund gritted his teeth. They needed to get out—or get closer. Briar, he tried. When she didn't respond, he leaned in to her ear. "Briar," he whispered urgently.

His voice won her attention. Her eyes darted to him, fixing on him as though she were incapable of moving them again. They shone with unshed tears.

Briar's message came so quietly, so lightly, he almost missed it. It burns.

Without thinking, Edmund reached for her hand. It's okay. At first, her fingers were stiff and cold. But when he intertwined their fingers, her grip relaxed.

Just as Briar's mind began to thaw, she heard the wolf.

He growled. "Remember this moment, old cow. When our time has come, I will be favored—for it is I who brought what she seeks."

He sounded dangerously close.

The female voice curled with surprise. "Where?"

"Can't you smell it? The air reeks of it."

Briar waited, her heart pounding in her throat as she listened. The female voice inhaled, raspy and brittle. Her next words came softly, so softly that she almost missed them.

"The Children of Eve."

Briar's hand flew to her mouth. She stared silently at Edmund, whose eyes went bright. He looked around at the dark inlet of the cave, scanning their surroundings. Calculations write over his expression.

The river splashed behind them. Edmund stole another glance behind them. Bright torchlight painted their surroundings. In the reflection, a hooded, crouched over figure was walking along the edge of the pool.

"The scent stops here," the wolf rasped. "Spread out."

The two children pressed their backs to the wall. Briar dared to look at Edmund. He put a finger to his lips. With two fingers, he tapped his temple. Her gut did a somersault. He was signaling to talk telepathically.

Her insides wailed against it, but the situation was dire and there was no time. Briar screwed her eyes closed, and dove into her thoughts. They roared like a relentless storm, beating against the walls of her mind. But amidst the chaos, there was a thread. It glowed brightly, and upon grasping it, a path cleared. She plunged straight through it, following it to the eye of the storm.

Her eyes snapped open. The thread. It was coming from their adjourned hands. When she glanced down at them, she felt their minds connect. It was like a tangible space she could stand in. Yet, it was intangible. It tucked her raging thoughts in the back of her head and allowed her to think clearly.

Edmund must've felt it because his words transmitted to Briar first. Follow me. Silently, he waded out of the water, pulling her along with him. It was all she could do to put one foot in front of the other, fighting the heavy weight of the pool that tried to drag her down.

They emerged carefully so as not to make any noise. But every drop of water off their clothes reverberated in Briar's ears. They were like trumpets announcing their presence. They're going to hear us. Needles of cold poked at her damp skin, urging her—no, begging her to run.

Once they rounded a stalagmite near the back of the cave, hazy torchlight blanched the air. Edmund released her hand to grasp the hilt of his sword. A figure blocked the entrance. They were hunched over in a cloak that dragged along the ground. They held a torch to the darkness and looked around cautiously.

Suddenly, Briar was struck was an idea. She tugged Edmund back behind the stalagmite. He glanced back at her with round eyes.

Can't you just make us invisible like last time?

She shook her head. Last time, it had drained her energy. Not unless you want to drag me out of here.

That's fair.

She knelt down and snatched a stone off the ground. The back of her mouth tasted sour as she clenched it in her hands. I'll lure them to the back. Be ready.

Got it.

Briar hurled the rock with all her might to the back of the cave. It clattered loudly to the ground.

For a moment, there was nothing. Then, the sound of footsteps. Briar and Edmund rotated around the stalagmite as the cloaked figure passed their hiding spot, staying just out of their view. Briar uttered a silent prayer to anyone who was listening. The gods, Aslan... if he was real.

The torchlight grew fainter as they approached where the rock had fallen. The figure hunched over, drawing a hand over the ground. Their shadow moved and stretched along the ground in front of Briar and Edmund. It was then Briar noticed it. Poking out from the hood was a long, narrow muzzle. When Briar looked up from the shadow, she found herself staring straight into the eyes of a werewolf.

In the torchlight, she could make out the long fur of his neck. His blood-red eyes locked onto hers, and his pupils shrank. "The traitor and the frostborn."

Briar looked around wildly, the empty space in her hands and at her hip sending panic shooting through her. She patted Edmund's arm frantically as he unsheathed his sword. "Now might be a good time to mention that I don't have a weapon," she whispered. "So, I'd thank you not to let us die."

"What?" Edmund shot her a look of disbelief. "Didn't you have a dagger just yesterday?"

"You want to talk about this now?"

His eyebrows knitted together into a glower. "I mean, if it's the reason we're about to die, I'd bloody well like to know."

The werewolf bared his teeth and lunged. Briar did not expect him to career so quickly across the cave. She barely had enough time to hurl herself out of the way.

Both children scattered. A clang of metal pierced her ears.

Head for the gorge! Edmund's thought exploded in her mind. I'm right behind you!

The werewolf slashed at him with his claws, snarling and snapping at him. Edmund swerved out of reach, parrying back. The creature jumped to the side, snapping and snarling, blocking the way to get to Briar. It was clear that he couldn't get past.

Briar stood rigidly at the entrance. She couldn't just leave, but she was useless. Her dagger was gone. She had no weapon.

Zhade said I didn't need one.

But it's dangerous. What if something happens?

The werewolf lunged again. Edmund ducked just in time; the claws grazed above his head.

She made up her mind.

Briar barely needed to think of a command, and cold strength exploded from her core, shooting through her arm like lightning. It numbed the pain, firing out of her fingertips and plunging into the pool. A giant stake of ice surged up from the water. It bashed the underside of the werewolf's jaw. He let out a yelp, staggering back, giving Edmund just enough time to disengage and race after her.

Taking off down the path, Briar lifted her fingers to examine them. They still felt chilled to the touch, but she hadn't erupted like yesterday. Maybe this isn't so bad after all.

Edmund fell in pace with her. He glanced back at the protruding spike of ice. "You're absolutely mad," he declared. As if she couldn't be surprised any more, Briar thought she saw a grin quirked at his lips.

It has to be the adrenaline.

They beelined for end of the gorge. Briar didn't look back to see the werewolf's expression. She didn't need to, either, because he let out a howl of frustration.

"Your blood will be spilt!"

Just as she turned the corner, something grabbed her wrist from behind. The abruptness jolted through her body like a shockwave, muscles straining against the sudden force. A searing pain shot through Briar's forearm, like a thousand needles piercing the deep tissue of her flesh. They plunged beneath the bandages, carving the jagged slashes Miraz had put into her. Briar let out a sharp cry of pain.

Edmund instantly swung at her assailant. She twisted herself free and staggered back, clutching her throbbing arm. Her vision was blurry when she whirled around to face who'd touched her.

It was another cloaked figure. The hood fell back, revealing a face of wrinkled and gnarled flesh. Where there should've been a mouth, there was a thick, yellow beak. Small, grizzly feathers poked out from the back of her head.

"You're a hag," Briar gasped. She'd read about them once. They were one of the evilest creatures Narnia had ever known, and they were sorceresses.

The hag's eyes fixed on her arm, which continued to burn as though it were the fuel of a fireplace. They darted up to her. "Fascinating," she rasped. "It is just as I expected."

The color drained from Briar's face. "Wait. What do you mean?"

This aggravated the hag. She drew a talon to her chest and let out a screech, casting it towards her. Her voice collided with her like an invisible wall. She heard Edmund shout. Wind ruffled Briar's hair and then the world vanished from underfoot. It spiraled around her in a tornado of stars and water. Her hair whipped her in her face blindingly.

For a second, there was nothing. Then, with a bone-jarring thud, Briar slammed into the side of the gorge. The impact was immediate, knocking the wind out of her and sending a shockwave of darkness through her senses. As she slumped to the ground, her vision tunneled.

Then, she blacked out.

A/N: Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate! I am incredibly thankful to all of my readers this year, especially YOU, who has followed my and Briar's journey this far. Without all of you, Briar and I would never have gotten this far. <3

On that note, I meant to have this finished two weeks ago. But 1) it was project week last week. 2) my laptop broke for 5 days and 3) when I temporarily fixed my laptop, I wanted to rewrite the entire chapter. But, as a reward for us, the wordcount for this chapter is 4.7k. Idk, there wasn't a good place to stop.

I did want to note, I will be reworking Angelina's POV chapter (23) a lot in the upcoming weeks. I rewatched Prince Caspian and saw that I inserted Miraz's coronation too soon, and I want to rewrite it to be accurate to the movie's coronation scene in the timeline. So, expect to see scenes move around in Ch 23.

Love you guys! Thank you for reading this far. Take care of yourselves, please remember to vote and comment. I love to know if you enjoyed a particular line or concept in my writing. :)

EDIT HISTORY

Chapter 19, 10/14/2024 - Removed Briar telling Caspian how Miraz almost killed her.

Chapter 16, 10/18/2024 - split the Eight Moons packs into eight different packs, one for each moon phase. Briar is with the Full Moon pack right now, which is the primary pack in Narnia.

Chapter 24, 11/28/2024 - removed the encounter on the lake

Chapter 25, 11/28/2024 - edited out Briar's internal dialogue about the encounter on the lake, changed the hag's dialogue to become story-critical, smoothened transitions