Back on the field, Caspian, cornered by Telmarine soldiers thirsty for his blood, misplaced his footing while backing up and was forced into the pit they had created. Now an easy target within the mess of rubble, metal and bodies, he fended off their blows as best as he could.

A cry from behind him sounded, sparking a turn and roll onto his back. Spotting Glozelle - who was bruised and wounded - Prince Caspian inhaled a sharp breath when he set his eyes on the spike aimed at him. Glozelle froze in his actions as soon as he realised it was the Prince, faltering slightly.

Before both of them could make another move, a thick rope-like thing burst through the Earth and twined itself around Glozelle like a kraken's tentacle, pulling him upwards as if he was an action figurine and slamming him against the rocks, once, then a second time, knocking him unconscious.

Taken aback, Caspian turned to scramble back up onto the grass, only to see the High King smiling back down at him, his hand extended. Why, that's unusual... Thought Caspian the same moment he decided to reach out and grab Peter's offered hand.

Stepping up onto the field, Caspian gawked, dumbfounded at the magnificent sight of the wood - instead of being fixed at their rightful place at the far end of the clearing - rushing at the Telmarines.

This was alarming for the Telmarines, who ran amuck, darting towards their comrades and away from the 'deadly possessed beasts'. Amidst the frenzy, many other soldiers refused to fall back with the sudden turn of events, but endured with launching catapults at the enemy, one crashing into and scraping a tree. Hurt, the green moaned as it collapsed to the ground.

A great oak tree instantaneously shot it's roots into the ground, causing the Earth to rumble and crack. Alas, it emerged where the catapults were positioned, wrapping its strong structures round the catapult and reducing it to splinters within seconds, sparking a hurrah from the Narnians.

"We can defeat them if we draw them to the river!" a soldier suggested.

"To Beruna!" Sopespian howled to his troops. In a few moments Miraz's followers were bolting away and down the river's bank in a disorderly fashion, the whole army a disgraceful mess of metal and flesh.

Just half-way across the bridge, the whole army came to a hasty halt, for there was a little girl that stood on the opposite bank of the Great River alone, smirking as her hair and dress flowed with the breeze.

If you'd ask them later on, these soldiers couldn't exactly comprehend why they stopped. They just did because they knew they mustn't continue, and how did they come to think like that? They didn't quite know, or rather weren't willing to believe what they saw next.

Her expression growing all serious, Lucy drew her dagger from her waist, holding it up beside her. In a mere blink, out of nowhere, the Great Lion stepped forward to join her. Wide eyed and trembling, they stared aghast at He.

Sopespian, him being ignorant - you may want to call it - glanced at his troops and back at the Lion, who, to him, looked so very fierce and wild.

"Charge!" he shrieked, at the top of his lungs.

With loud clatters and splashes the army began their charge towards Aslan and Lucy, not bearing in mind the consequences of their foolishness. Slightly angered by the scene, The Lion roared, sending at them strong whip of wind which managed to bring every single one of their muscles to a complete stop. Horses refused to continue, and the soldiers became weak in the knees.

Before they knew it the water around them began to draw back against its original current, exactly how it would be like when a great tsunami were to come at us on a beach. Shocked and pale in the face as to what was yet to come, the Telmarines crooked their heads in the direction of the reversed water flow, and to their utter dismay, found a dark silhouette of a girl in Narnian armor right there, against the blinding sunlight.

With her dress billowing out behind her in a small cloud and her hair fluttering against her neck in the breeze, the girl locked her violet eyes with Sopespian's dark ones and smiled - not smirked, but smiled - genuinely, sending guilty shivers down the man's spine. With a sharp rise of both her hands, the certain finale to the battle commenced. First, the clear liquid began to pile up, gallons upon gallons, drop upon drop, until the structure of blue mirrored that of a grand fountain, sending continuous gushes of water peltering down onto the river and men below. Out came a gigantic, wet, bearded head up top, and his arms gradually became distinct at his sides.

Having completed her task in summoning the River God, Amethy picked up her slightly soaked skirt and brushed her palms together in satisfaction, before she dashed her way back onto the bank, joining Aslan and Lucy near the bridge.

The River God gave Aslan a small nod, and correspondingly did the same to Amethy, who bowed her head in respect.

Cupping his huge, wet hands below the bridge, he lifted it from the surface of the river, hovering it meters above the ground. One by one, soldiers jumped off the bridge in fright and landed into the river with a great splash, clearing the bridge for that one person left - Sopespian - the start of most of the trouble, the soul as dark as Miraz.

All alone in the middle of the bridge, Sopespian, still mounted on his horse, found himself trembling in panic and from the cold, moist breath of the River God.

The River God examined the specimen now in his wrath for quite a moment, who swung his sword wildly in the air like a madman.

Subsequently, he opened his watering mouth, swallowing the horse and his rider whole, drowning his helpless wails. Crashing down into huge waves, the River God swept the remaining debris downstream with his strong current. With the last corrupted Telmarine leader dead, it was victory for the Narnians and certain defeat for the Telmarines.

***

"Surrender your weapons! Take off your armour! You will not be harmed!" instructed the Narnians while the remaining Telmarine soldiers, exhausted and wounded, crossed the now-calm river to the opposite bank. There, they threw down their swords and bows into a huge grey heap on the gravel beside Trumpkin, who directed them to the left side of the bank where the rest of their comrades had gathered.

Slightly frazzled by all the earlier action, Peter, Susan, Edmund and Caspian waded wearily across the shallow waters towards the King of the Beasts, whom they all dropped down onto their knees in front of.

"Rise, Kings and Queens of Narnia," spoke He.

In response, Peter, Susan and Edmund got up on their feet.

"All of you," said Aslan, directing his words to Caspian, who still knelt and bowed his head so low that his damp, wavy hair nearly brushed the gravel. He tilted his head and gazed into the kind eyes of The Lion.

"I do not think I am ready," said Caspian.

"It's for that very reason I think that you are,"

Really, Caspian didn't exactly understand what he meant, but he felt that he must and stood up anyway. Looking around, he noticed that everyone around him wore bright smiles on their faces, and he began to ponder if he was the only one who could not make much sense of the Lion's wise words. Yet, the others didn't really understand it themselves; Aslan's words were always filled of deep and hidden meanings.

From round the corner, the harmonic tune of numerous bagpipes sounded and drifted to their ears. Next came eleven mice, each about two feet tall. Six were aligned in two neat rows side by side, supporting a stretcher like mechanism, in which a fluffy brown heap lay on - the Gallant Mouse, Reepicheep. He was more dead than alive - his breathing was weak and his body flaccid, and where his long tail once was was now replaced by a small little... stump.

Lucy rushed up with her cordial, letting a small drop of the precious fireflower juice slip into his partially open mouth. He stirred a little, gulping down the drop of liquid in his subconsciousness. With a small gasp his eyes sprung open and bolted straight up on the stretcher, blinking a few times at Queen Lucy.

"Oh thank you, Your Majesty..." he thanked, hopping off the stretcher. The Mouse could have gone on, but he stopped at the sight of the Beast in front of him.

"Oh, hail Aslan! It's a great honour to be-" his shill voice died down when he stumbled forwards upon bowing.

Slightly confused, he proceeded with an awkward little bow knowing his difficulties in balancing. He knew that something wasn't quite right. Looking over his right shoulder, he strained his neck hopes of seeing his tail. Then he turned to the left, and he stretched his neck so much that he could no longer go any further but still, the poor Mouse could not see his hindquarters. For a moment or so he behaved like a dog chasing it's tail. Finally, the dreadful truth dawned on him and his face fell.

"I am completely out of contenance!" exclaimed the Mouse to Aslan, using his small paws to cover the small stump at his rear. "I must crave your indulgence for appearing in this unseemly fashion," He turned to Lucy, twitching his nose and whiskers. "Perhaps... a drop more?" he asked, pointing to the cordial.

"I don't think it does that," said Lucy sadly.

"Well uh... you could have a go," replied Reepicheep, his voice shaking with disappointment.

"It becomes you well, small one," said Aslan.

"All the same, great King. I regret that I must withdraw. For a tail is the honour and glory of and mouse," he said solemnly.

"Perhaps you think too much of your honour, friend," replied Aslan.

"Well... it's not just about the honour. It's also great for balance and climbing..." he tapped his chin before continuing, "and grabbing things!"

Aslan smiled at Reepicheep, before realising that his followers all had their swords drawn. He turned to the mice, a questioning look in his golden eyes.

"May it please your High Majesty, we will not bear the shame of wearing an honour denied to our chief," said a second mouse, whose name was Peepiceek. With that, all the other mice held their swords just millimetres from their tails, ready to slice them off for the sake of their chief.

Aslan chuckled at their naïve actions. "Not for your honour, but for the love of your people."

Before Aslan had finished speaking, a new tail had magically grown into place. Delighted and surprised, Reepicheep turned his head around to see a tail behind him.

"Oh look!" he declared, holding up his tail slightly with a huge grin on his face, "Thank you, thank you, my liege! I will treasure it always! From this day forward, it will serve as a great reminder of my huge humility."

From then on, anyone who dared to lay a finger on Reepicheep's tail were to be severely told off by Reepicheep himself.

Next, Aslan turned towards Lucy and Amethy. "Now, where is this dear little friend you've told me so much about?"

Trumpkin, who was still busy directing the Telmarines to the bank, looked at the Lion nervously upon the mention of his little nickname. Walking over slowly with trembling legs, he knelt down in front of him, his sword digging into the gravel below. Aslan roared at him, causing Trumpkin to shudder and shake even more.

"Do you see him now?" Amethy asked sarcastically. Trumpkin looked up and met her gaze, unable to stop a small smile that had made its way to his lips.

***