Narnia: Prince Caspian & The Dark Angel

12 | Strategic Disagreements

Raven straightened her posture, her right arm elongated outwards and in it her bow. Her left arm was notched back, an arrow place delicately between her padded index and middle finger. Her lip played like an anchor for the arrow, and her eyes were leveled with the target standing three hundred meters away. For the standbys watching, she looked crazy just holding up her bow and arrow in the air. They cannot see as she can; their eyes cannot catch the perfect pinecone dangling precariously off the branch of a tree deep within the forest.

Yet, Raven was willing to make herself seem like a fool to prying eyes if it only made them worse off than she. Raven breathed with the rhythm of her heart, letting eight beats go between breaths. In and out, she chanted subconsciously. Her arms were firm and her aim was true, so she released her arrow at the same moment she released a breath. The arrow tore perfectly through the pinecone and lodged itself against the bark of the tree it was hanging on. With a pleased smirk she lowered her bow and turned to Prince Caspian who had been standing with her the whole time. "I would like to compliment your archery skills, but I can't see your target," he stated, raising a brow at her.

She flashed him a glare and began to stalk off in the direction of her arrow. "That's the point," she said in reply. Raven hoped the conversation was over, but the sounds of Caspian's boots against the glade's ground said otherwise. Caspian never stops talking, especially if he wants something. At this moment, he wanted an answer from the mysterious Dark Angel who refuses to comply ever since she came back to the How. "If you are here to question me again about what happened in Cair Paravel, I will have your head," she spat through gritted teeth, speeding up so that she could disappear into the treeline.

Caspian only shrugged in response, her threats now a welcoming trait of the Raven he had come to know. "Have my head then, but you cannot deny that something happened in Cair Paravel. Peter, Edmund, Lucy, and even Susan are worried for you."

Raven scowled underneath her cloak. "If they cared so much, then why haven't they talked to me in the week that I have since returned?" She scoffed. "And I never denied that something happened, I just don't know what happened and I don't care to look into it."

Lies, she hissed to herself. Her mind was occupied with so many questions over what occurred but it only led to more unanswered questions and possible theories. Raven was sure that the queen was the woman she always saw in her nightmares; the one weeping and singing the lullaby. The queen's beauty was beyond compare and not human-like. Raven was certain that the woman was an angel and wingless like her.

Caspian's hand rested on her shoulder, forcing her to stop and let the young prince stand before her. He stared directly at the woman underneath the hood, his brown eyes shining with concern. "Do not take me for a fool, Raven. You know more than you are letting on, but I will not pester you over it. If you wish to share it, don't hesitate to do so with me," Caspian said so sincerely, that Raven couldn't help but utter a small, 'thank you'.

The prince then left her to fetch her arrow, and ran off to assist Queen Susan in training the other Narnians archery. Raven watched him carefully, finding it amusing how he managed to make the Gentle Queen flush so red. The same jealousy from the vision flooded her chest when she saw the pair meet their gaze with passion and yearning, so she quickly turned away and ran into the forest. What reason is there to be jealous of such weakness? Love led her to death. Love ruined the person she was before, and turned her to stone. Love made her a monster, and it would be foolish to want it. But you still want it, a voice whispered.

Raven shook her head, keeping her eyes set on the tall trees until she found the one where her arrow was stuck in. The Dark Angel climbed the tree effortlessly, finding joy in her perfect shot. She pulled out her arrow with a quick yank, and settled herself against the bark to inspect it. The arrow then found its home back in her quiver once Raven was sure that it wasn't damaged. She was just about to leap down the tree and head back, but watching the bustling How from afar kept her at bay for a few moments more. There was nothing of importance occurring, and she was sure that the Narnians can spare her a minute of respite. What harm can a break inflict?