The High Queen II

The Flight of Prince Caspian

The night sky was a tapestry of stars, tranquil and unyielding, while below, a tempest of chaos churned in the Telmarine castle.

In the chamber beyond his door, Prunaprismia's anguished screams pierced through the chaos, morphing into the blissful cries of a newborn. 

Outside his chamber, General Glozelle stepped onto the balcony, where Lord Miraz stood, his figure outlined against the starry night. Miraz's taut posture radiated authority and anxiety, a man grappling with the shadows of ambition.

Glozelle approached and bowed, his voice steady despite the upheaval. "Lord Miraz, you have a son."

As Miraz's satisfied smirk played across his lips, he turned to Glozelle, his voice dark and commanding. "You know your orders, General."

A Telmarine soldier patrolled the hallway outside his room, armour clinking softly. The sound heightened Caspian's anxiety. He needed to escape.

Just then, a shadow flitted through the doorway, and his tutor, Doctor Cornelius, entered with an urgency that made Caspian's heart race. Cornelius pulled back the heavy curtains, a look of grave concern etched on his face. 

"Five more minutes," he muttered, trying to grasp the situation, but Cornelius had no time for pleasantries.

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

Confusion washed over him, but Caspian complied, allowing himself to be pulled from bed. "Professor, what's going on?"

Cornelius glanced back, his expression grave. "Your aunt has given birth... to a son."

Caspian's heart sank, and a sickening realization dawned on him. "A son? My claim... My future..." His thoughts spiralled, understanding the implications of this news. The moment of his birth had been one of joy; now, it was laced with impending doom.

Before he could voice his fears, Cornelius ushered him toward the wardrobe in the corner of the room. "We must move quickly." They stepped inside, and Caspian pressed himself against the shadows as Glozelle and his men burst into the room.

The sound of arrows slicing through the air ignited a primal instinct within him. Heart pounding, he realized they were targeting him. But as they threw back the blankets, it was empty.

Caspian felt Cornelius's hand on his shoulder. "Now!" the professor whispered urgently, guiding him out of the wardrobe.

They sprinted down the winding staircase, each echoing footstep amplifying the fear pounding in Caspian's chest. They reached the stables, and Caspian's eyes fell on Destier, his loyal horse. He knew he had to act fast.

He snatched a sword from the wall, the cool steel grounding him momentarily. "The woods?" he asked, mounting Destier, unsure of their destination.

Cornelius nodded, urgency flooding his voice. "They won't follow you there. Go, Caspian."

In the midst of chaos, Cornelius pressed a small, wrapped object into Caspian's hands. "It has taken me many years to find this. Do not use it except in your greatest need."

Caspian unwrapped the object, revealing a silver horn that gleamed in the dim light. His eyes widened. "Will I ever see you again?" he asked, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him.

Cornelius smiled sadly, a glimmer of hope mingled with regret in his gaze. "I hope so, my dear prince. There is so much I meant to tell you. Everything you know is about to change."

The sound of approaching soldiers echoed down the stone hallway, sending a fresh wave of urgency coursing through Cornelius. "Now go!"

With that command, Caspian spurred Destier forward, racing through the courtyard. He felt a rush of adrenaline as he knocked over a soldier, barely pausing to look back. Fireworks erupted in the night sky, a cacophony of colours announcing the birth of Miraz's son.

"Prunaprismia has blessed Lord Miraz with a son!" the crier's voice boomed, but Caspian had no time to ponder the significance of those words. His heart raced as he urged Destier onward into the dark woods, the sounds of hooves pounding behind him as Telmarine cavalry pursued.

As he entered the shadowy embrace of the trees, he felt a mixture of fear and exhilaration. He was no longer just a prince—he was a fugitive. His uncle wanted his head and Caspian knew Miraz well enough to know that he would stop at nothing to have his head.

Behind him, Glozelle hesitated at the edge of the woods, frustration etched on his features as looked at the group of soldiers who had stopped just at the edge of the forest. "Which of you superstitious old women would like to spend the night in a cell?" he snapped, compelling his men to follow.

Caspian crossed a rushing river, hearing distant cries from the soldiers behind him. One soldier was swept away by the current, and the sight sent a shiver of dread through him. Exhaustion weighed heavily on his limbs, but he pressed onward.

Suddenly, his world spun as he collided with a low-hanging branch, knocking him from his horse. Winded and disoriented, he scrambled to sit up, blinking against the shadows of the woods. That hurt. A lot.

Before he could fully collect himself, he heard a creaking sound from a nearby tree. Caspian turned just in time to see a hidden door swing open, and two dwarfs stepped out, their expressions a mix of shock and recognition.

"He's seen us!" Nikabrik growled, his voice low and tense.

Trumpkin, the other dwarf, drew his sword, advancing on Caspian. Fear gripped him, but when Trumpkin caught sight of the silver horn inches away from Caspian, he hesitated.

As the sounds of the approaching soldiers grew louder, Trumpkin barked an order to Nikabrik. "Take care of him!"

Desperation coursed through Caspian. He had to do something. Raising the horn to his lips, he felt time slow. The moment was pivotal, charged with potential.

"Don't!" Nikabrik cried out, lunging forward.

But it was too late. The clear, powerful note of the horn resonated through the woods, cutting through the night air like a clarion call from the past, summoning allies yet unseen.

As the sound echoed in the darkness, Caspian's heart filled with a flicker of hope amidst the uncertainty of his fate. Everything was about to change, and for better or worse, he was ready to embrace whatever lay ahead. That was until, everything went black.