Summary: Of sins and shadows, and doomed visions of ice. A conversation between Jadis and Aslan; set many years before 'The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe'. My first Narnia fic, please read!

Genre: General

Rating: All

Authoress's Notes: This is the end of a conversation Aslan and Jadis had, many years before 'The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe'. I do not own Narnia or Symphony X's 'Of Sins and Shadows' song, though I wish I did.

Of Sins and Shadows



Sakina the Fallen Angel


"You can still change, you know. Not even a Daughter of Charn needs to be set in stone." Every word he says, every tone, every inflection is a poisonous daggerto my ears.

Edging closer to the shadows, whilst maintaining my grip on my wand, I think of so many ways that I could kill him, ever so slowly…

"Jadis?" He is as patient as always. Whole cities could fall and we would still be here, conversing.

I hold my head high, tight-lipped for there is nothing left to say.

"Even after we conversed for so long you will not give in."

"And there is nothing you can do about it, Lion!" These words escape from my lips with a hiss before I can stop them. I meet his profound gaze with icy eyes of my own, scornful and defiant like the ancient blood of Charn that flows through my veins.

Bowing his shaggy mane, he sighs, resignedly. When he raises his head I step back, for there is a new deep growling fire in his gaze. Not even I know what he is fully capable of.

"Very well then. I can see that my breath has been wasted. Remember this image well, for this is the most power you shall ever have!"

And with that proclamation, there is a thunderclap, a shimmering hole in the air opens and a vision of me appears, clutching a stone knife. I can hear my ancient blood calling, like the quickening beat of my blooming heart. I'm enthralled, a strange sense of delight runs down my very spine as I absorb the look of triumph on my sister image's face. For a triumph it really is. I'm not focused on what my image is doing, who I am about to kill, for that to me is irrelevant; however what I do focus on is the horde of ugly creatures, who are all encircling me, waving their flame torches and chanting.

"Jadis! Jadis! Jadis!"

I turn to Aslan, wondrous.

"See that, Lion? It is my name they're chanting!"

But he is no longer there. I look around, pale, wary, but then I catch sight of the great beast lumbering away, slowly, with his back to me. He is shaking his head sadly.

"Jadis! Jadis! Jadis!"

"Hear that, Lion?" I yell almost hysterically, slamming my wand into the dirt. Where the wand hits the ground, slivers of ice appear, growing frost fingers.

"It is already beginning!" I crow to his fading back.

It is so many years later, on the final night of my life, when I am at the height of my powers that I remember the vision…

So, how was it?