Narnia: Prince Caspian & The Dark Angel

08 | Aslan's How

It was well into the afternoon now, the sun slowly sinking towards the western horizon where it will surely set below the blanketing night skies as it did every day. The company travelling behind Raven was now overjoyed, freely chattering amongst themselves in lightheartedness. They were glad to finally come across their Kings and Queens of Old, finding their sudden appearance to be a blessing from Aslan over their journey to the How. Many would come up and talk to their rulers, asking numerous questions of how Narnia used to be or how their world was. Lucy found no issue in answering all they asked, seeing it as mere curiosity rather than them trying to see how could their rulers leave them.

Susan and Edmund noticed this and chose to step ahead, only talking to each other behind Peter and Caspian. The High King and the Prince engaged in forced conversations, all of which were nothing short of subtle competition between them. It was an endless verbal war consisting of indirect jabs towards each other and it would often end with Trufflehunter stepping in and continuing with another conversation. It was a futile attempt to getting the two monarchs to be somewhat placid towards one another, and when Trufflehunter finally walked away in defeat, they were submerged in a long silence. They continued to stare ahead where Raven was walking alone, silently leading the company from a distance without bothering to look back to anyone.

For Caspian, he found it to be odd, since she always made sure to see if the company was still huddled close and on pace with her long strides. She was always keeping an eye on them, but she had not done so once throughout the duration of the trek. Raven also hadn’t stopped for a midday respite, forcing everyone to eat while walking. There was no explanation, nor did anyone dare to ask for one. Her presence was terrifying and always thick with an unspoken anger that reverberated off her in waves. The Dark Angel was like an untamed beast; a lone wolf with a dragon’s pelt for fur and cold eyes as frigid as a northern blizzard.

“Who is she?” Peter asked Caspian after a long and tense silence. Caspian turned to Peter, his eyebrow raising in shock. Noticing his surprise, Peter quickly corrected himself. “I know what she is, but who is she?”

“Her name is Raven,” Caspian replied, his eyes averting away from Peter and back to Raven. “Of Calormen, if my memory is correct.”

“What an odd name for a Lady,” Peter jested, a grin itching at his lips when Caspian’s face withered altogether at his words. “Try not to call her that. I was nearly beheaded for addressing her as Lady Raven,” Caspian warned him, shuddering slightly at the memory of her whipping out her sword and uttering one of the first threats she has given him. Caspian can no longer remember talking to her and nearly facing death amid a conversation. Peter couldn’t hold back a light chuckle, giving Caspian a sense of relief over the fact that he managed to make the High King laugh, albeit for an embarrassing moment. “Why are you afraid of her?” Peter asked the prince once more, his light cerulean eyes glittering in amusement.

“Why are you not?” Caspian countered, his amber eyes crashing against Peter’s with an underlying emotion of fear. Peter shrugged, looking at the hooded girl walking a good distance ahead with her bow in hand and sword sheathed. Raven walked stiffly, her movements matching with the firm and lifelessness of the trees around her. Her hood didn’t ruffle as the wind blew, and nor did she make a sound as she walked. Peter could see why Caspian and the others would be afraid of her. Her physical body seemed intangible compared to her overpowering aura that left an uncomfortable shiver down anyone’s spine and significantly darkened all that surrounded them. Raven was like the dead among the living, floating through the forests as a ghost.

Almost as if Raven felt his eyes on her, she craned her head slightly to meet the intrusive gaze of the High King. Peter was stunned to see a vaguely familiar pair of dull blue-green eyes bear into his, encasing him in an uncomfortable heat that he had never felt before. It wormed its way from his stomach to the rest of his body, almost as if her piercing gaze igniting a scorching flame inside him. As much as his bones cried out for him to tear his eyes from her, he couldn’t and almost didn’t want to.