POSTED 4/26/23

Prince Caspian X slept, more often than not, quite peacefully. He was the son to the nation's late king, in line for the throne, and lived comfortably in a castle filled with all his needs and wants. Technically, there was no reason for him to live with any worries. But on the fateful day that Lady Prunaprismia and the Lord Protector Miraz were blessed with a newborn son, everything would change in an instant.

That night, Caspian awoke with a start, heart pounding and senses on high alert when he felt a hand cover his mouth. His brain fought to wake itself as his eyes scanned his surroundings for any indication of danger. And there it was: a cloaked figure whose face was covered by the shadows, looking all sinister in the dead of night. But when the figure moved and the moonlight revealed him to only be Doctor Cornelius, the crown prince relaxed.

"Five more minutes," he mumbled, pushing his tutor's hand away and sinking back into the covers of his cozy bed.

"You won't be watching the stars tonight, my prince," Cornelius said gravely. "Come on, we must hurry."

Without warning, the older man pulled him out of bed. Caspian stumbled onto his feet as his professor led him to his wardrobe at the side of the room.

"Professor, what is going on?" Caspian asked.

"Your aunt has given birth... to a son."

Caspian's eyebrows were still knitted together in confusion as Cornelius stepped into the wardrobe and unlocked the hidden door behind it.

"Come!" Cornelius urged. Just as Caspian made a move to follow, he heard footsteps right outside the room. He hurriedly jumped in and swung the wardrobe doors close behind him, keeping it slightly open so that he could still see what was going on through the crack.

General Glozelle, one of the Telmarine lords who served Miraz, was accompanied by a couple of his men as he entered the bedroom. All of sudden, their bows were raised and arrows were shot, all of them going through the curtains of four-poster bed. The pet bird perched in its cage at the corner of the room shrieked and flapped its wings madly, all while more and more arrows flew in the air, just enough for them to rip open all the drapes.

Caspian's heart stopped at that. They were trying to kill him? And in his sleep? Was it really because of what Doctor Cornelius said — that another heir to the throne was born? Caspian never quite liked his aunt and uncle, but he never expected them to go this far. His fear and disbelief only intensified when he saw how disappointed the men were to find that Caspian was not sleeping in bed — meaning, he was still alive, and they were not happy about that.

Caspian didn't need to question Doctor Cornelius any further. The professor pulled him deeper into the wardrobe and out into one of the castle's many secret hallways, one that Caspian was grateful to not be common knowledge to the lords and army currently after him. They passed through narrow hallways and jogged down winding stairways, running as fast as they could without making themselves known to the people lurking nearby.

At long last, the two of them reached the ground floor. Caspian didn't forget to grab his sheath and sword, and to throw on some armor for extra protection. Then, they went straight for the stables where his horse, Destier, patiently waited.

"You must make for the woods," said Cornelius as the prince mounted his horse.

"The woods?" Caspian repeated in shock.

"They won't follow you there."

"Professor, would Miraz... did — did he really want to kill me?" he whispered, almost like a child. He knew the answer all too well, but he couldn't help but ask and hope it wasn't true.

"Have all my lessons in History and Politics taught you no more than that?" Cornelius replied. "Listen. As long as Miraz had no children of his own, he was willing enough that you should be king after he died. He may not have cared much about you, but he would rather you should have the throne than a stranger. Now that he has a son of his own, he will want his own son to be the next king. You are in the way. He'll clear you out of the way."

Caspian's throat dried up and palms started to sweat. Of course, he wasn't stupid — he knew how politics worked, and he knew how much Miraz liked his authority. Yet why was it so hard to grasp the fact that his uncle was willing to go as far as to kill him? His own nephew? The son of his late brother?

Not quite having a response to that, Caspian's next words were, "Are you coming with me?"

"I dare not. It would make your danger greater; two are more easily tracked than one. Caspian, you must be very brave. You must go alone and at once. Try to get across the southern border to the court of King Nain of Archenland. He will be good to you."

"Will I ever see you again?"

"I dearly hope so, my dear prince. There is so much more I meant to tell you. Everything you know is about to change. Now, take this."

Cornelius handed Caspian a wrapped item. The prince took it and did not make a move to unwrap it, but from the feeling alone, he deduced that it was a horn.

"It has taken me many years to find it," Cornelius went on. "That is the greatest and most sacred treasure of Narnia. Many terrors I endured, many spells did I utter, to find it, when I was still young. It is the magic horn of Queen Susan herself, which she left behind her when she vanished from Narnia at the end of the Golden Age. It is said that whoever blows it shall have strange help — no one can say how strange. It may have the power to call Queen Lucy and King Edmund and Queen Susan and High King Peter back from the past, and they will set all to rights. It may be that it will call up Asian himself. Do not use it except at your greatest need."

Caspian nodded and pocketed the item carefully.

"Close the drawbridge!" came a distant voice outside. They knew. All the staff and guards knew that Caspian was about to escape.

"Now, go!" Cornelius said. Caspian ordered for Destier to move, and they were on their way.

Outside, the night sky was dark and the cobblestone floors damp after a light rainfall that evening. The sound of Destier's hooves galloping across the courtyard alerted all the guards on duty nearby.

"Halt! Halt!" several of them shouted. Some of them tried to block Caspian with spears, but he was quick enough to grab one and maneuver it to his liking. The guards, taken aback, lost balance and fell backwards. Caspian took the spear away from them and threw it aside as he passed right under the main gate, heading straight for the bridge, crossing the whole length of it with no other obstacle.

As he rode further away from the castle and through the villages, fireworks set off behind him. Destier neighed when Caspian abruptly pulled at the reigns to stop and look back at the castle — at what would now be his old life. They were now formally announcing the birth of a new royal, all while Caspian was running for his life.

More neighing of horses sounded, but they were not from Destier. Caspian couldn't see them just yet, but he knew a group of Miraz's men were not too far from him, armed and ready to capture him. Not wanting to waste any more precious time, Caspian slapped the reigns on his horse and continued on his journey, away from what he once thought was his home.

It could've been minutes or hours, but all Caspian did was keep riding southward. He passed by familiar trees and hills and ridges, all of which he'd see on training sessions and fieldwork as prince. But soon enough, he was crossing through fields he did not recognize — fields that led directly to the woods that Telmarines insisted were haunted with ghosts and filled with unspeakable dangers. But at that moment, Caspian was not afraid of what laid in that forest. His number one concern was the troop of soldiers only meters away from him now, having caught up to him in no time.

Caspian did not think twice as he went into the forest. Farther and farther he rode until he made it to a shallow river. It was still so incredibly dark out in the open, but he could tell that this was a beautiful river, and a small part of him wished he could've basked in the sight of it another day.

He urged Destier to keep moving forward. He slowed down considerably as his horse crossed the river, the water nearly covering its entire body already. But Destier, as trusty as ever, persisted until they made it through.

More trees awaited Caspian. Despite the situation, he couldn't help but feel a rush of adventure. He had never gone this far into the woods; he was never allowed to do so in the first place. He could probably keep riding till dawn and still not see the end of this country. And, to his delight, he could no longer hear the sound of men shouting and horses galloping behind him. The soldiers must've gotten caught up in the river and lost him on the way.

However, Caspian's happiness was short lived. Before he knew it, there was a low tree branch right in front of him, smacking him square in the face. He grunted at the impact, only to fall backwards and yelp again when his body hit the ground. Destier did not notice her master on the floor, so she kept running, consequently dragging Caspian along the way. The prince struggled as he reached for the stirrup where his foot was still attached. Finally, he managed to free himself, groaning in both pain and relief.

For a few minutes, Caspian laid there to catch his breath. Then, he sat up and looked at his surroundings. As expected, it was just full of trees. Interestingly, though, these ones were grander than any of those nearer to the castle.

A rustle. Caspian jumped, adrenaline coursing through his veins. His eyes flitted around, but he couldn't see anyone or anything too clearly. He made a move to grab his belongings, which had fallen off of him and his horse earlier, but all he could feel were leaves and soil.

All of a sudden, there was a small yelp. Caspian grunted as what felt like a foot collided with his torso, and a figure was sent stumbling over him and onto the ground beside him. He was already bewildered by the fact that someone else was in this forest, and even more so that they tripped over his body.

Considering the possibility that it was a Telmarine soldier, Caspian scrambled away to keep looking for his sword. But in the middle of his panic, his eyes met those of the mysterious figure: a girl. Even in the dark, he could see her hair neatly pulled back in a half-updo, framing her face fittingly. Her eyes were wide and mouth was parted in shock. She was clad in a simple dress, neither appropriate for fighting nor for a banquet. Whoever this person was, it was certainly not a Telmarine soldier out for the kill.

"Who are you?" Caspian finally found his voice, still stunned by her appearance.

"What is this place?" the girl said instead. Caspian stared at her, puzzled.

"I thought I should be asking you, seeing as you were here before me," he said slowly. "But we are at the woods."

"In England?"

"England? What — where — this is Narnia, is it not?" Caspian couldn't even get his words out properly. He was still trying to wrap his mind around his whole situation. It was one thing to have to escape the hands of death, and now, he was encountering a strange girl deep in the forest.

"Narnia?" the girl repeated to herself, almost as if she was testing the words. "Narnia..."

"What are you doing here?" Caspian said. He wasn't sure if he was still on defense mode, or he was simply curious about her.

"I... well..." the girl seemed even more confused than he was, and he almost felt bad for her. Then, she looked him up and down, and inched closer to him. "Oh, I'm sorry, by the way. I tripped over you, didn't I? Are you alright?"

She reached out for him, and for some reason, Caspian didn't flinch. He didn't move away, which should've been an instinct when some stranger was about to touch him, especially after the series of events that night.

But before she could do anything, a creaking noise caught their attention. Startled, Caspian and the girl watched as a door opened from what they initially thought was merely a mound of giant tree roots and rocks. And yet, two figures came out from it, but they were no regular people. They were small and bearded, and both holding swords — they were dwarves.

"They've seen us," the one with greying ginger hair said. He advanced with his sword in the air, ready to land a hit. But then, he saw it: Queen Susan's horn, lying a few feet away from the Telmarine boy. The dwarf's face contorted into a mixture of expressions — confusion, fear, hope.

Horses whined in the distance. Miraz's soldiers had unfortunately made it across the river and were seconds away from catching up to them.

"I'll handle that, you take care of them!" said the dwarf, looking over his shoulder at the other. Sword still drawn, he left Caspian and made his way to the group of soldiers approaching. The remaining dwarf, the one with greying black hair, made his move next.

Caspian had to act fast. In the split second he had before he would either get attacked by the dwarf or the soldiers (or perhaps, both), he reached over and grabbed the horn. Then, he placed it on his lips and blew.

"No!" yelled the dwarf.

The horn sounded through the air, both louder than any bell or explosion any of them had ever heard, and yet not deafening to their ears at the same time. It resonated throughout the forest, and it felt like it extended farther and wider than the country alone — like it could reach another world.

However, the sound was cut short when the dwarf struck Caspian with his elbow, effectively knocking him out cold. Caspian dropped the horn as his head slumped onto the ground.

Never in Elara's wildest dreams did she imagine all of this would happen. Moments ago, she had just been walking through the orphanage's back garden. And now, she was in the middle of a forest, having met an unknown man in armor as well as two dwarves. Seeing all of this unfold before her, she knew she had to do something, anything.

Elara grabbed the now-unconscious man's sword nearby and raised it before her. It felt heavy and foreign, like she was not meant to fight at all, but it was the only thing she could do to defend herself.

"Step away from him," she said shakily. The dwarf looked up at her and scoffed in disbelief. "Or... or I'll fight you."

"Please, what more can a Telmarine like you do?" he scoffed, drawing a sword of his own. "You've done enough damage to us all these years."

"Telmarine? What's that?" she said, trying to discreetly scoot further away from the dwarf.

"Stop playing around. You're next." The dwarf took a couple of steps closer, prepared to strike her too.

"Nikabrik, stop!" said a new voice. From the little house built within the earth, someone else came out. This was even stranger than the dwarves — it was a badger, and he was talking as he ran towards them. "We've got to hide! We can deal with them later!"

"But Trufflehunter, she's —"

"I know, she's a Tel —" the badger stopped speaking, lifting his snout in the air. He sniffed a few more times, his nose directed towards Elara's direction. "Well, she doesn't smell like one."

"Er, what?" Elara said, dumbfounded. Smell? Did she need a shower already? "Is that an insult?"

"Oh, no, it's your scent I'm talking about," said the badger, who she realized was named Trufflehunter. "I can't quite pinpoint it, but —"

"Oh, shut it!" said Nikabrik, fishing something out of his pockets. "Drag the boy in and I'll tie her up. We'll think of something once those Telmarines leave."

"Worry not, Nikabrik. I'll take care of them."