The Lion, The Witch, and CS Lewis - 12

A Satire - For Ursa Corwin

12

Where was the lion going?

He was going to the stone table, and what's more, he was taking Lucy and Sondra with him. Because these two had not proven their worth yet. And they needed to do that because all four had to be pure of heart, and clear of brain. There is one other thing that I should mention, so please bear with me. The original Pevensies were an English family, they were white, as white as it got. But something happened, people of different colors liked the book. For example, Ursula K laGuin wrote a trilogy based on a series of separate islands. And very suddenly world exploded, with each writer telling their own story. Some were good, some more bad, and many just ripped off. Then there were things like this, which set themselves in a story world, though they told different stories. For example, several fans did not like Susan being a traitor.

But the stone Table is the nexus of this tale. Either good or evil will prevail, until the last battle. On the good side, someone who deserves nothing but praise will be slaughtered; on the evil side, one thinks he will be united, and will only then see that he was evil. This is the moment that it, that is the table, will decide. Of course, the witch felt that she had been wronged. She felt that everyone in the world had had it out for her. She felt it was not her fault, someone else was to blame. She gathered around herself like-minded creatures, who felt, as she did, they were misunderstood. They all had reasons why they could not do the right thing. In their mind, they were, if not pure, at least misunderstood.

Now this is not the way that most people would describe them. Indeed everyone else felt that they took what they wanted. And that is the rub, there was always some reason why they had to have whatever was lying about. The first share of everything had to be theirs, in less someone more powerful would take it from them. There are men and women in the mortal world who behave this way too, and in the realm of Narnia what you see is a compressed form of this in action. What was the difference? Tell yourself why they always needed to have the first cut of meat, the first place of dessert, the first of anything that she wanted, and would give certain things to her favorite people when she wanted something. If you can understand this, then all else will follow. She is not as bad as Tash, but she walks in his footsteps. And remember, Tash is Persian for stone, and there is a reason for this.

On Aslan's side, he will give to others and then will take for himself. He will give orders, but they are really for their good. In other words, the Queen wanted things first, and that is what made her a witch, and Aslan one things for other people. And that makes all the difference in the world.

The three figures, Aslan, Sandra, and Lucy, were going down a quickly dimming path. Unlike ordinary times, Aslan was silent. Lucy and Sandra occasionally tried to speak with him, but he was not responding. Then finally he said: “This is my test, and I do not know if I will make it.”

“Of course, you will.” cried Lucy, though she did know is he would.

But Sandra said: “What is the sign that you will one?”

“If I do not makeup, then surrender yourself to the queen. If I do wake up, there is still a good chance that she will triumph. She is clever and cunning. And we will have to fight our best.”

“Is this it, then? There is any more?” said Sandra, “I was just kidding used to this, and now it's gone.”

“Most things are. Sooner or later, everything comes to an end. Of course, I genuinely hope that it's the beginning, and all of the wonders things will happen. But you have to put it into practice. With the queen there are two possibilities: one that she is truly been wronged, or two, she will fight and win. With me there is only one: I am who I say I am.”

“But, don't you see that that possibility is the only one that will have?” said Lucy.

“People may know from the outside, but inside it is called dark. And all around me, there is the stifling fear that I could be wrong.”

“But that is not possible.” pronounced Sandra, “You have been the most kind and wonderful and gentle creature that we could imagine.”

“I hope you are right, but realize it is the test of things that matters.” On this, he had a point. “I want the two of you to do something for me.”

Both girls agreed, even violently so.

“Remember she only has my body so long as it's living. To not under any circumstance allow her to tread across this line. My living body is hers, but my dead body is not hers. Remember this well, it is important.”

They had been going gently down, and the road was dark, and figures were around them, coming very close. They were individual shapes, with the kind of crowded pieces, each was the individual shape, that moved from side to side. There was no rule for how many shapes they could display, most of them didn't even have two eyes, when three or more would do. Some were cats, and some were dogs, there was a scattering of Minotaurs, but mostly they could not be described in a feature. Most of them could have been fishing, snake, or any other thing imaginable. Some were claiming, others slew, and still others combined the two and felt as if they were both at once.

And in the midst of this was the Witch. For a while, she had worn a white long slim dress, but she had tossed it for one that was just a bit off of black. It wasn't quite black, but only creatures with senses beyond what humans could ascertain, was that the case for all four of the humans, though Lucy had some odd visions now and again? What was more apparent was the number of jewels that were said in the brocade that she wore. These were older than this world, and of all things, they were treasurable to her, there were anklets and wrists of black amethyst, there were necklaces, and things around her waist. These were precious to her because they had come with her from her life before. Her face was gaunt, that it is it was angular. Her robes from her shoulders without any trace of her hips. She wants indeed terrible to behold in the moonlight. There were many years holding candles and torches, each one of them revealing a different kind of figure. And there were at least 1000 figures that whisk in and out of the torchlight procession.

Then the witch held her hand, signaling to each one of her followers that she wanted silence. And there was a desperate silence indeed.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself? I notice that you have left the boy, which was my wish.”

“What use is it of yours that he be here?”

“Since he had forfeited his right to be here, I demand justice. And I will send him to pay the ultimate penalty.”

She then showed the stone table in all of its glory. It was at least 10 m in length and about 1 m in length, it there was a low table. On it was written many strange things, though they could not be read, Aslan knew them to be penalties, often of extreme nature. They were harsh, but rarely enforced.

“I will take his place.” Muscling his jaw very firmly.

“That is your right, but it only works once, and for one time only.”

He had said the witch and he was in motion. The witch knew that if she could condemn him to the slightest terror, the slightest tremor, then she would claim that he had not gone willingly to his death, and she could have the boy too. She also knew if he submitted, completely and utterly, that the boy would go free. She also knew that he would come back again. Because she knew that deeper magic from before the dawn of time would crack the stone tablet. It was then in her mind to do as nasty work as she could, and hope that Aslan would be terrified. The flaw in the Witch's plan was she could not imagine just lying there and allowing someone to stab her. In her mind it was inconceivable. Therefore she conceived that if he became frightened, there would be some motion, some sign, and she would have him.

The lion merely stood there, accepting his fate.

Then she had the nerve to share him, which was not permitted, but was acceptable. And dozens of her followers eagerly complied. So, before her, his body, every inch of it, was denuded. The beings laughed at him and laughed, and laughed. Then she had him rolled over onto his back. There was a terrorist in the air, and every breath was held. Only then did she have him down, and not until then.

But the lion did not move an inch. He stood there as if to challenge her authority, but in no way was there a single thing that she could point to.

The witch was enraged, because she was sure that the lion would have given her something with which to declare victory. But so far as anyone could see, not a muscle, down to his nails, did he even blink.

Then and only then did she have ropes to bind him. For ugly hags, with at least three heads, complied. They then bound him up as tightly as they could. Down to every claw. And then they checked their work, slobbering as they did so. It was quite a revolting sight. Then the witch closed in on the lion’s face.

“You think you have won, but who will protect them once you are gone?” she grimaced with a happy glee. “I will crush them, once you are gone.”

The lion did not breathe a word, because even that would have been a violation. He just stared into space.

Then she moved her hands and produced a stone knife. Then, to all the assembled company, she pulled a thread from her hair and proceeded to show everyone how sharp it was, by slicing it from stem to stern.

But even then, the lion did not move.

Then she raised the dagger and plunged it into his heart. She cackled. “With you gone, who will stop me from leveling all of Narnia?” And with that, she screamed with a delightful terror. Above her head the dagger was pushed with delight, scrapping and scratching down the lion’s skin. The Witch eagerly gulped down the blood and her face grew ugly. This was because the beauty was magical and the reality was hideous. But what she did not notice is that the writing on the table was absorbing the blood too. And the table quivered.

And held the dagger there, and tell the final last drop of blood. Then something happened. Saundra stood up on the table.

“That is enough, you have done your duty, and now it is time for me to collect the body.”

Now the witch, as I have said before, was not only evil but lawful as well. She did not dare question her authority. Because not everyone was the same way, they would pull from them to them if they got their way. Even now several of them wanted to do so. But the lawful nature of her being would not allow this. And she could not turn the body of the lion over to them, because that would be just as much a violation as doing it herself. So, rather surprisingly to many of them, she stood aside. And just add that moment the table cracked, striking terror into every living thing that was evil. They were flying, scampering, or fleeing in some way.

And left alone were the lion, the two girls, and the mice. The stone tablet was destroyed, as the lion had suspected it might, but was not sure. The dawn was coming up, because now it was its Midsummer night's dream, and what would happen next is like a phantom.