The Hands of Fate

Chapter 16

Caspian felt horrible.

After being so rude to Farah he felt that she would never want to be his friend anymore. He was, in fact, being pretty mean, so who could blame her? The worst part was that Caspian didn't even know why he had acted to cruelly to her. It was as if something had come over him, making him hate Farah for some odd reason—for who could dislike her?

Caspian fiddled with the royal ring on his finger as he walked. Amara had given it to him the other day to show that they were really, truly getting married. The very thought made Caspian feel sick, but that was probably why Amara had given it to him in the first place.

The Prince continued following Farah, lost in thought, that is, until he walked into her. The Prince rebounded and fell to the ground. Surprised, he blinked. When he finally came to his senses he murmured "Sorry." Farah turned around, looking at him, raising an eyebrow. She offered him her hand to help him get up, and he gladly accepted her offer. Maybe, he thought, we can be friends again, close friends that never would deny each other; but he was horribly wrong. The moment Farah had helped him up, she turned away, facing forwards.

"Farah I-"

"Sh," Farah waved her hand behind her, in his direction. She seemed like she was thinking, and Caspian should've noticed and allowed her to, but he clearly wasn't himself. Instead, the Prince narrowed his eyes at her. How dare she wave her hand like that at a Prince? A Prince! She was just some ugly, dirty, gross-

What was he thinking? Why was he thinking that way about Farah? He gripped his head, as it began to hurt. The Prince squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head, trying to get all of the bad thoughts out. The hurtful feeling that once swelled in his mind suddenly vanished, and Caspian felt normal again.

He frowned, what was that all about? The Prince checked his surroundings hurriedly, trying to see if there was a threat anywhere that could be causing such thoughts. But those very thoughts were once again stopped as he heard a loud whistle. Caspian glared in the direction of the loud noise, and there he saw Farah.

He watched as she whistled once more, louder this time. Caspian raised and eyebrow, unsure of why she needed to whistle, for who would hear it? And even if something did hear it, how would they know it wasn't a threat? Another group of bandits?

After a few minutes of silence the sounds of hooves hitting the ground erupted. A glimmering white blob was seen far away, and as it drew nearer, the blob soon turned into Atlas. The stallion bore no saddle, nor reigns; and Caspian frowned, looking around.

"Where's Bayard?" He asked. Farah turned, looking at him with her sparkling eyes. Her eyebrows furrowed with slight sympathy.

"I... don't think he came. I'm sorry, Caspian, you'll have to just ride with me." Farah gave him a hopeful smile, patting Atlas' neck.

The negative emotions filled Caspian's head again, but this time he tried to fight it. At first he thought of how Farah probably wanted to ride with him so that they could spend time together, and how stupid of a thought that was. A Prince and a maid? Why would that ever be okay? She was dirty and gross, it was such a shame she would have to ride Atlas with him. Atlas, a purebred white stallion, being ridden by her, a filthy servant.

Caspian gritted his teeth, he fought as the thoughts tried to overcome his mind. He wasn't sure how to keep them out, but he knew one thing for sure, he had to at least try. The Prince fell to his knees, trying to get the terrible notions out of his head. He didn't want the feelings in there, they felt horribly wrong and evil. A searing pain shot through his head, and the Prince faltered, trying to hold in a scream. An odd force seemed to be trying to fight it's way into Caspian's body, making him hate Farah more and more.