Edited: 1/17/2024

Inside the tent, the female centaur introduced herself as Windmane, wife to Glenstrom, who was the herd's chief. She immediately seated Briar on a stool and went to the table to assemble combs and brushes. With Windmane preoccupied, Briar quickly took out the magical scroll from Professor Cornelius. She looked around frantically, searching for a hiding place. Her eyes settled on the bed right next to where she sat. Quickly, she stowed the item under a pillow. Just as she did so, the female centaur turned around.
Good thinking, Briar thought. She inhaled a deep breath, willing herself to relax. For some reason, Cornelius had spoken of the scroll as if it were indispensable.

Windmane began unwinding the intricate braids Lydia had put into her hair; after her scuffle with Miraz, it was a disheveled wreck. The centaur mother hummed softly as she worked. Next, she dressed the growing bruise between her shoulder-blades with a sweet, herbal balm that smelled deliciously earthy. She wrapped it carefully in bandages; the same was done to her forearm, although it took much longer. Thankfully, the gash was clean and not jagged. The unfortunate part was that it required stitching, which Briar did not enjoy. The wound wasn't deep, but it wasn't shallow, either. Once that was taken care of, Windmane settled for washing and once more braiding her hair.

Each twist and weave of her fingers made Briar's mind slow. It soothed and massaged her head, causing her eyelids to droop. Exhaustion crawled up and over her like a warm, heavy blanket. Eventually, Windmane finished, much to Briar's disappointment.

Just as she'd started to drift off, the centaur let out a thoughtful sigh.

"You and your brother seem to have caused quite a commotion amongst the Narnians," she remarked, passing Briar a mirror to examine her hair. "They're all at odds about what to do with you."

Briar's focus flickered from her hair to Windmane's face behind her. "How do you mean?"

"Well, a lot of the dwarves and animals don't take kindly to Telmarines. It's only natural, given their history, you understand."

The girl hummed idly in response. From what she understood, Telmar had burst into Narnia unannounced, treating Narnians like monsters and wild animals as they claimed their forests for civilization. Eventually, their harsh treatment had begun to revert the creatures back to their unconscious, beastly state. Professor Cornelius had given her and Caspian a historical lecture on it a long time ago, back when Briar first believed in Narnia's magical properties. He had said that the words he had to offer were rare and beautiful, because while they were terrible and full of trials, they were truths.

The bearded, old man had gone on to say that the only Narnian education the Seven Lords allowed for was the kind that bred contempt. They only allowed Telmar to hear their carefully crafted stories, the ones about destruction and fear. Briar knew from her own education that what little was spoken of Narnians was not good. The Lords had tailored it to plant seeds of vengeance in future generations, to burn hatred into their minds with an iron of their own kindling.

Briar wondered if Narnians did the same to them.

"I suspect it has to do with who is riling each people; its source." she responded, scooting around to face Windmane. "Each respective party gravitates towards someone of reputation and strength to listen to, regardless of how their hearts feel about them. Telmar wants its citizens to hate Narnia, thus our Seven Lords emphasize bad things." Briar hesitated, twisting the handle of the mirror in her lap. "I wouldn't be surprised if a few Narnians speak half-truths about us, too. It's the way of things."

Windmane's mouth broke into a smile, her expression surprised. "You would do well to mention that at the meeting tonight," she waved a finger knowingly.

The great horsewoman rose from the rug, pulling her long, muscular legs out from beneath her.

"Get some sleep. I'll wake you for the meeting," she promised, closing the curtain behind her. "My sons will ensure you rest peacefully until then."

"Thank you. After last night, it'll be nice not to have a target on our back."

Windmane's long, pointed ears pricked upright. "Last night?" she echoed curiously. "Prince Caspian was discovered near the waterfall along the Great River two days ago. He spent yesterday at Aslan's How and returned this morning."

What?

"Goodnight, your Highness."

"G-goodnight," was all she managed to say.

Speechlessly, Briar watched Windmane take her leave. She looked away, eyes blinking rapidly in disbelief. Just a moment ago, she felt sleepy.

Not anymore.

Now her stomach clenched, squeezing her beating heart in its fist. Two days? If Caspian had been discovered two days ago at the waterfall, and it was a two-day ride to get there...that meant she'd been out for at least three days. How was that even possible?

The princess stared after where Windmane had disappeared behind the tent curtains, watching the swishing fabric grow still. She was alone. There was no wind to rustle the tent, no crunch of leaves just outside. Everything was still, and she found her body unable to sync to the sleeping rhythm of Narnia's atmosphere. Yet, the content of her thoughts drank it in like it was an herbal remedy.

Briar sighed, tapping her fingers on the chair. She looked around and willed herself to breathe as she processed what she'd heard. To calm down, she studied the environment around her and found it quite interesting.

The tent was very modest. There were a few rugs and tables set up, along with a soft bed ordained in quilts and pillows. Quietly, she poured herself a cup of water and drank it. Just as she was about to sit on the bed, she paused, listening. The sound of voices carried through the air. They were undistinguishable. In the distance, she could hear the clanging of metal and loud barking of orders. As far she could hear, there was nothing. No Miraz. No angry Narnians. No terrible rules to follow. A band of centaurs, and a few lovely knights were out there, watching out for her. She was safe.

For now.

Briar sat down on the cushioned bed. Although it was early in the evening, she could feel the aching of her limbs pleading for rest. As far as she knew, time was all over the place. An invisible clock raced her body to catch up with her, it came upon her so hard that it spared her mind of recollection. A thick, blurring tiredness set over the girl's body.

But Briar was determined to think this through.

Briar's mind began pacing restlessly as she struggled to figure out how she'd gone. It had only felt like a few moments. Every part of her being shoved away the memory of her encounter with Miraz, wrestling down her weak attempt to try and recall it. All her brain allowed her to configure was that same, strange voice that had protruded her thoughts and saved her life.

The voice had said to "preserve herself," and based upon their previous encounter, Briar had likely used magic again. The words, or forced, intruding thoughts of the entity, floated back into her mind with no strings attached; no memory of what happened during their exchange followed.

'Imagine a barrier between time and life.' The phrasing was carefully constructed, Briar knew that much. Maybe if people didn't speak in riddles, we wouldn't have so many problems, she thought sourly.

She contemplated for a good, long while. So long, in fact, that she ended up eating an apple and a few slices of bread with honey. When she finished, it was even harder to keep her eyes open. To distract herself, Briar undid the braid in her hair. Her dark, soft brown hair cascaded down her shoulders.

A few minutes later, Briar was one sarcastic thought away from throwing a pillow at someone. Eventually, she admitted defeat. She flopped back onto the bed.

Something hard jabbed her neck.

"Ow!"

She recoiled, rubbing the spot fervently. The girl was ready to beat the object with her own fists. She shoved her pillow aside to see what had caused it.

It was the scroll.

Her anger diminished. Curiously, she pulled the case out from under her. She hadn't had time to examine it when Professor Cornelius gave it to her. The casing was made of a smooth, ornate leather the color of copper. Beautiful swirls of vines and flowers had been etched into the surface in careful detail. Thin silver bands had been densely sewn into each corner. A cedar lid secured itself on top.

It took a second to pop it open. The smell of ink, salt, and old parchment billowed into the air; it made Briar's nose tingle. Carefully, she slipped her hand inside and removed a soft, thin scroll that had been rolled together by a leather cord. Intrigued, she rolled onto her side, raising it to her face.

The paper opened easily. Thick, black cursive danced across its surface, almost like it was moving. There was not much on it, but the words were densely packed.

Everything was divided into paragraphs. There were five, each of them headed with large, bold letters; each was accompanied by a mysterious sketch. Two of them, Briar could read. Condition Preservation, the first one read.

Briar caught her breath. This must be it!

Condition Preservation

The ability to keep oneself in a specified condition, ensuring that they stay in a certain state, regardless of any and all current external forces. They decline into a state of slumber, where the passage of time is nonexistent. The subject needs neither food nor drink. Age, physicality, and enhancements are sustained for an indefinite amount of time until their physical body is disrupted by an external presence.

Peepiceek must've expelled the water from her lungs, and thus she had pulled herself out of her state. The girl's heart raced furiously as she hungrily scanned the rest. The next paragraph was even more interesting.

Telepathy

The purposeful, vicarious transmission of thought between a wielder and its selected receiver. Deemed as one of the rarest abilities known to the world, telepathy is wielded by a select few. Only one born with a natural affinity for psymagic can harness the ability to sync their cognitive notions with another. Instruction on telepathy is unwritten due to unwillingness to confide. The only enlightenment is to "...search and find a natural connection. The rest is for them to feel," provided by an anonymous wielder. Past records of telepathic users include Aslan, The White Witch, and the Lady of the Green Kirtle.

The White Witch. Briar's mind fixated on the last part. Her ancestor possessed both magical abilities. That must be where I got it from, she marveled. It's a wonder I figured any of this out.

For whatever reason, Briar couldn't read the rest. A strange, blue haze rested over the scroll. It moved and breathed against the parchment like fog. She experimentally drew a finger across the writing. The haze illuminated brightly and swirled with the motion, but it didn't leave.

It was some kind of magic.

She skimmed the rest of the scroll from top to bottom and found nothing; there was nothing on the other side of the paper, either. She let out a long breath, blowing the wisps of hair out of her face. Briar reread the scroll until her eyes felt like they were burning, trying to make sure she'd gotten everything correctly.

Surprisingly, the scroll didn't answer questions, but it did provide clarity. Briar hadn't even had time to mull over the concept that she could even wield magic, given the recent events. Now, she did have time to think, and she had so many questions. What else was written on that scroll? Why couldn't she read it? Who even wrote it?

Briar flopped over in dissatisfaction, glaring holes into the ceiling. I'd rather not have anything than a document full of words that manages to get nothing new across.

Well, she could at least practice some of the new magic she'd apparently inherited the ability to harness. Professor Cornelius had spoken of Narnia has a welcoming place for learning when it came to magic. For the first time, too, it wouldn't be under life-or-death circumstances. Magic would be in the peace and quiet of the tent, in solitude.

She could perfectly preserve her entire being across time for as long as she wanted but could only be awakened by another person. Given that Briar could basically escape now, if she truly wanted, being at the mercy of being rediscovered and awakened made sense. Because, if Briar wasn't careful, she could go undisturbed in a coma for centuries.

I could miss Caspian's entire life. The thought made her feel sick. Yeah, definitely not practicing that. She would just have to be very selective about when to use it...if she ever would again. Probably not.

Telepathy sounded extremely helpful. In fact, it had the potential to be game-changing every single time she used it. But who would Briar practice on?

Not Caspian or Professor Cornelius, she decided immediately. She'd inevitably end up having a long conversation explaining what had happened the last few days. She wasn't ready to have that discussion and, frankly, Briar didn't have the energy.

Then who?

Nobody else knew about Briar's inherited skills and, frankly, it sounded like a bad idea to try it on any of the Narnians. After all, they already didn't like her because of her Telmarine origin. Mentioning that she and Caspian were related to the White Witch, the one that had oppressively ruled Narnia for a hundred years in an eternal winter, would not bode well.

She snuggled back into the sheets, examining the light as it glowed against the blue tent's ceiling. As she recalled, Professor Cornelius had told them the story about the eternal winter. It had happened right before the Golden Age of Narnia. He'd said there was a prophecy of four children, two Sons of Adam and two Daughters of Eve, that would bring an end to the White Witch's reign. They'd gotten past her magic and reclaimed Narnia for its people, ruling them for a little over a decade before they mysteriously disappeared; it was then that Telmar had been born, and their tyranny over Narnia began.

Briar cocked her head as a bird's shadow fluttered over the roof. Professor Cornelius hadn't spoken much about the children. She knew they'd been siblings. There was High King Peter the Magnificent, Queen Susan the Gentle, King Edmund the Just, and Queen Lucy the Valiant.

An idea suddenly hit her.

That's it! Briar hastily reconfigured the processing in her mind, gathering it together in one, big jumble. Her discoveries on the scroll, the encounter with the Narnians, meeting Peep and Reep, all of it. She imagined wrapping it up in a bow and setting it aside on a shelf.

Taking a deep breath, she attempted to streamline her thoughts into one, cohesive tether. Minutes ticked by. Sweat formed on her brow. It felt like trying to herd an entire flock of birds into a room, but they were all flying in different directions.

The feeling of filtering her mind was becoming more familiar, like when she'd first learned to hold a crossbow. Each time, she slipped into the position more naturally; her aim got better, too. This particular time, it didn't jolt her heart upright to cast the tether out into the air. It felt like Briar was fishing in an empty, black sea.

Eventually, her mind pricked a small lead. Upon unearthing it, a cool, gentle energy blossomed in her mind. It felt cold, almost, but soothing and snug like a den created in the snow. She latched onto it as best she could and stretched her thoughts across it.

King Edmund?

Silence. Briar stared at the ceiling, wondering if the bead of sweat on her forehead was from concentrating or anxiousness.

Then, something stirred.

Who's there?

She jumped in surprise. Her insides spasmed as she forcefully controlled her breathing. It worked!

She cleared her throat nervously. Briar. I...contacted you a long time ago. Briar rolled over in the bed, gripping her sheets nervously as she waited for a response. Her fingers felt sweaty, and her hair itched her neck; everything itched. She flopped back over again, restlessly shifting.

Okay, well, what do you want? The connection felt tentative, like it was transmitting a cautious tone.

What do I want? Briar's own thoughts collided with the tether in confusion. What did she want?

Nobody had ever asked her that before.

The idea of reaching out to a stranger suddenly seemed incredibly stupid. She didn't even have a plan. What was she supposed to do? Lie? Come up with something so that he didn't know?

Just...to practice binding thoughts, I guess.

Bind thoughts? Wait--are you using magic?

Of sorts, she squirmed, almost able to hear his disdain; she could feel it. I'm...a telepath. Do you mind?

The thoughts in her head shifted, appearing, and reappearing as though Edmund were contemplating what to say. Well, I can't really make you leave—but make it quick; I'm trying to get some shut-eye.

Sorry.

Don't be, he dismissed. It's barely mid-evening, anyway. So...what exactly am I supposed to do?

Just talk back.

What's there to talk about? The weather? Our thoughts on the existence of life? Or, I don't know - who you are and how you're able to use magic?

I don't know, she thought cheekily. You are King Edmund the Just, right?

Right.

Then...tell me why you left Narnia.

Oh no. I'm not telling you anything until you tell me who and where you are.

I'm in Narnia.

So you're Narnian, Edmund's thoughts lightened.

Sure. Briar didn't know if it was possible to detect a lie through telepathic conversations. She hoped not.

Nice try. How about we have a trade of information? I tell you what happened and you actually tell me who you are?

Briar nuzzled her face into her pillow, running her fingernails along its lining. For some reason, nothing inside of her told her to be dishonest, at least beyond Edmund's assumption that she was Narnian. Contemplation only led to her thinking that it was a decent idea. It wasn't like Edmund was just going to show up and rat her out; wherever he was, it definitely wasn't Narnia. He left Narnia.

Briar sighed. Let's put it this way: I'm not from Narnia.

Incredibly helpful, Edmund thought sourly. Thank you for the clarity.

Briar didn't know if it was possible to send an eyeroll through connected minds, but she thought she detected one anyway. Her brain's muscles ached from the effort to maintain the connection. She suspected it was like exercising a new muscle; it took time to get better at. Despite the growing exhaustion from her efforts, she found herself smiling up at the ceiling.

Glad I was able to help. I'm guessing when you disappeared, you returned to wherever you were before you came to Narnia. You did leave, right?

Yeah. Not intentionally, though. We might've thought it through a bit more, had we known what was going to happen.

Was that regret she sensed?

You left hundreds of years ago, Briar mused. Then, technically you should be too dead to have this conversation.

I'm going to ignore how you said that and say time works differently where I'm from. Years can pass in Narnia, and when we go back home, we're right back in the same moment as when we left. For instance, it's only been a year since we were back in Cair Paravel. It sounds disorienting because it is.

I can imagine.

No, you really can't, the tether twisted with the notions as they floated to Briar's mind.

She huffed, rolling her eyes despite how she was lying alone, in bed. You'd be surprised.

What's that supposed to mean?

Who knows? she found herself shrugging like they were talking in the same room.

Interesting. Yet again, there was another way time bent and shaped to an outside force. When Briar was little, time seemed like the unmoving absolute of life. It was something she could not change and had to endure whether she liked it or not. Now, it seemed like everybody was suddenly able to access the future or stall it.

The tether shifted. Fine, don't tell me.

I wasn't going to.

Cheeky. You still owe me; I told you what happened. Your turn. Where are you really from? And be honest. Don't think I didn't miss you dodging the question.

What was Briar supposed to say...or think rather? She was Telmarine? Technically, she was part Jin and they hailed from Charn. Was she from Charn - Charnian?

For whatever reason, only when they both stopped talking did the connection start to diminish.

Wait, no! She struggled to wrestle it down, only for it to slip away and drift off into the air.

Great. There goes our conversation. Briar let out a huff of frustration and flopped her limbs out across the blankets. One of her arms and legs dangled over the edge of the bed, while her hair had scattered in all directions above her head.

At the very least, maintaining the connection between the two of them hadn't felt nearly as draining as the times before. As to why that was the case, she had no idea. Maybe Briar was getting better at it? Or maybe there were natural laws that depicted its difficulty? Either way, this had been different than the last time she had reached out to the Golden Age king. The last time she had, five years ago, she'd almost fallen asleep during a lesson with her governess. Little Briar had insisted she was just tired, but when older Briar thought about it...it must've drained all of her energy to try and connect to the King's mind.

The questions in her head fluttered around like butterflies, each beat of their wings drawing her closer to an inner tranquility. Despite how many unanswered propositions she'd come up with, her physical state had begun to dominate; her ability to mull over recent events quickly weakened.

Everything around Briar was still, a peace had settled in the atmosphere so that it made it impossible to focus. Sleep laid heavy on her eyelids. When she blinked, heat rushed to her eyes so that it pressed her head to the pillow. She stared blankly into the tent's ceiling.

Despite her frustration and her pining thoughts, Briar fell into a deep sleep almost the second she closed her eyes.

A/N: Omigosh!! Edmund and Briar interactions *jumps up and down*
Thank you so much for your patience! I hope the week off was worth it for you guys :)), given the content, hehe!
So much lore all in one chapter... it isn't as refined as I'd like...but that's okay! It's not like I'm going to publish and put it in Barnes and Noble ;p. I just wanted to make sure y'all got some juicy lore and a little sneak peek at our dynamic duo :)

See you next Monday!