Narnia: Prince Caspian & The Dark Angel

17 | The Undoing

The floor came to her faster than she expected. Her body was slumped against it, drinking up the cooling granite through flashes of blaring pain. Raven was severely disoriented, pressed up to her cot for some sort of stability as she searched for her sword. The blurry shape of her midnight blade gradually came into focus as it laid next to its scabbard on a small desk, evidence that Lucy truly did go into her room. Her feet hobbled towards the other side of the room with clammy hands pressed firmly against the supporting wall.

I need to get to Caspian, she'd repeat to herself. That was her sole thought, echoing in the oddly loud screams in her mind. There was little to no time to stop the recent dream from unfolding, and all of the possible outcomes only added to the persistent pulsing against her temples. The fear that coursed through her invaded all of her senses, overriding any logical thought process Raven had as she stumbled out of the room in a disheveled mess.

Her bare, wobbling feet were forced to pick up the pace and carry the sluggish limbs attached to it. Despite the fact that Raven felt she was racing at the speed of light, she knew that she had been in the same passage for a couple minutes more than usual. Regardless of what she tried to do, her body simply wasn't able to match the speed of her buzzing brain that felt as if it was splitting in half. Her eyes had such an excruciating burning sensation that it traveled down her spine in terrible waves that increased by the second. Yet, she still pressing on and crying out in frustration when the ground seemingly felt unsteady underneath her numb feet.

"C'mon!" She'd hiss at herself. It's Caspian, you stupid body! Although she despised his existence initially, there was this part of her rising from the inside that cried out for his life. It was a strong desperation, a driving need to ensure his safety. There was a realization that she truly did care for the Telmarine Prince, more so than she ever thought she could. It was buried under the years of trauma, anger, lunacy, and hate, blossoming unnoticed to her. He was a friend; her friend. For some reason that meant so much to her.

"Raven?"

She whirled around to see the small figure of Lucy approaching her. The torch in her dainty hand lit up around the little girl, revealing the pure shock in her face. "You're awake!" Lucy exclaimed. Before Raven could muster a greeting, she let out a painful groan. There was an odd sensation of her voice changing, twisting in such a fashion that it escaped musically. "Get your brothers to the Stone Table, Caspian is in trouble."

"Is something the matter with you? You're awfully pale-"

"No, do as I say! Go!" Raven snapped and turned back around without the slightest hesitation. This time she refrained from showing any discomfort, choosing to appear normal as she paced herself towards the Stone Table until Lucy's footsteps faded away completely. Her taught features fell as she let out another whimper. There were no words to explain the terrible sensation running through her body. She felt detached from her limbs, and that the touch of her hands were not her own. Raven became frustrated, forcing one foot in front of the other all the while trying to focus on getting back on track. 

A terrible chill ran through her once the sound of incantations echoed down the tunnel. There wasn't much time left for Caspian, and if she keeps at this pace there will not be any time left for them all. So Raven pushed her creaking bones to the limit and began to run, concentrating on the fallen prince rather than the stabbing sensations flowing within her. So close, she'd say and she stumbled into the wall. So close.