Fading to Dust. [// have pain friend :||||| ]
He thinks he may be sick simply from the way the Dawn Treader rolls in the waves, from the powerful stench of the creature who pulls the ship so tight that boards creak & bend under the pressure & splinters fly every which way. There’s simply not a moment to breathe, let alone think. He rolls & rolls, stumbles & climbs, swings his sword, hacks at the sea beast, but if anything, its skin may be denting the blade in his hand.
Everything aboard the ship is wet & miserable & there isn’t a second for him to so much as think in all of the chaos; but one thing does ring out clear in all of it… They need help. Edmund doesn’t care much for where it may come from, he just knows that they need it.
The Dawn Treader jerks & rumbles violently, sending him & most of the crew to the floor & he hears the most terrifying shriek, for it doesn’t come from the monster but their boat. His strength seems to fail him & his arms tremble as he pushes himself to rise again. Something distracts them all. A blue beam of light strikes the sea serpent, sudden & pulsing as its intensity grows & this time it is the monster that shrieks, seemingly in pain. It hurts so much that the tail about the ship whips by them all as it tries to flee.
Shielding his eyes, breathing heavy, Edmund turns his sight, much like many others, upon the source of their aid & he knows in an instant why the blue is so familiar & comforting. He’s known it before. It belongs to their guide. He can’t help but to laugh, a tiny, breathless laugh that doesn’t quite belong, as the serpent disappears in a huge splash, its screeches echoing off the rocks. But their victory is so short lived- he feels the relief & joy rush away far too quickly- for there’s a figure falling from the heavens & there’s no bright star lighting up their sky any longer.
He, among many others rush out to the prow of the ship- though really it’s not recognisable as such after all that’s occurred- with a loud cry of despair. Horror seizes his body once again, almost as though their success is a short ebb ( it seems to happen a lot ) in their sea of troubles. Edmund is pretty sure he just watched a star fall; he refuses it to be anything but falling & leaps into the water without a thought, though his limbs do tremble as he climbs the edge.
Black water rushes to meet him & for a moment nothing makes sense, he can’t see or hear, only cough water from his lungs. Instincts kick in a second later & he swims with burning muscles & salt on his tongue for the form that seems to merely float on the surface of the water. She’s so still that terrifies him & forces Edmund to swim faster, faster.
Legs kicking beneath him, he halts, trying not to think of how the sea serpent may have friends. Hands hover for a small second, unsure if he ought to touch her at all, but she’s not even breathing. That just can’t be right. She’s a star, an actual celestial being with real magic & power in her hands, but she’s not breathing & as seconds tick by the air about them seems to grow colder & any light about her dims rapidly. Edmund can’t bear to watch her fade a single second longer & curls his arm about Lilliandil’s torso, pulling her back to the boat onto which they’re both lifted.
Lucy’s cordial, which she brings out almost immediately has no effect, if anything, the once star seems almost dimmer for her having tried the juice at all. Though it makes little sense to him, much like the others, Edmund finds himself heavy hearted & there’s tears all around. Narnia has just lost its brightest of stars in its sky.
