If the sky was empty, Caspians' mind was even more so.
The evening air blew through the castle towers, ruffling his fluffy hair, blowing his cape closer around him.
He sighed. No matter how he tried to remember anything- anything at all- he could not. He could not recall a single memory of his parents for himself.
Not a one.
He had stories, things he'd put together in his mind from the memories of others, but he wanted his own.
Caspian had spent the last few days asking everyone at the castle if they'd known his parents. If they had, he wanted to know one thing about them, one memory from each person. Just because he couldn't have his own didn't mean he should have nothing.
So he tried.
Filled up a whole book of other people's memories, read them over and over. How they were so kind, so good. Mostly all nice things. Caspian hadn't even bothered asking Uncle Miraz; he never had kind words for them.
Caspian liked reading the memories and enjoyed the stories, but it didn't give him what he'd wanted. He wanted something to remember- something that was only his.
Something he would never have.
If only he'd been a little older, then he would have his own memories. But his father and mother were gone, leaving him in a castle, surrounded by people, yet almost entirely alone.
Alone without even a memory.
A sudden spark of fiery anger flew to life inside of him, steadily growing larger. He stared at the book in his lap. Memories that weren't his.
Of people he should know- but didn't.
Caspian snatched the book up into his hands and ran inside. The weight of the book was heavy- too heavy to carry everywhere he went.
He was trying to fix what he could not. Trying to fill up something so empty, so blank, he almost didn't feel it anymore. Trying to pretend he had something to remember when, in fact, he did not.
As his anger continued to climb, he stopped. He stood in front of a fireplace, blazing brightly with a flame that matched his burning anger. He glared at the book still in his hands.
Without a second thought, he hurled it into the flames, watching as the fire consumed it.
Caspian stood staring, his anger dimming; feeling blank. He waited until the book disappeared completely.
Gone.
Nothing but empty flames remained. His book was gone, taking with it every memory he did not have.
Caspian sank to his knees, tears- neither angry nor sad- fell down his face.
He needed his father and mother, more than anything a book could ever give him. More than the kind words said about them by others. He needed them as people, not ideas.
He knew that.
But still- what Caspian wouldn't give for one, single memory.
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(Narnia) Broken Pieces -Caspian X- A One Shot Collection
Fanfiction"If only he'd been a little older, then he would have his own memories. But his father and mother were gone, leaving him in a castle, surrounded by people, yet almost entirely alone. Alone without even a memory..." Short one-shots exploring Prince C...
