Narnia: Prince Caspian & The Dark Angel

09 | Raven of Calormen

Loud clangs of metal became the music of Aslan's How. All throughout the tomb, Narnians reformed the Telmarine weapons and improved their armor so that it was strong enough to withstand a blow from a rhino and sharp enough to slice clean through chainmail. It was vigorous work, and it was put to good use in training the Narnians, something Raven was eager to take over. She knew that the Narnians weren't as agile and fluid as their ancestors, since they only fought to survive in the wilderness. She had to teach them to withstand war and fight for an endless amount of hours that could surely kill them if they aren't prepared. Raven figured it wouldn't be too hard, but she was surely mistaken when she realized how badly they fought.

One would forget to block, another would leave their side open, and another couldn't even lift their own blade. Just by the lack of experience Raven was witnessing, she was sure her eye had twitched more than once. Her patience was near to nothing, stretching out so thinly she thought it would snap at any moment. Raven wondered if her insomnia contributed to her grouchy mood just as much as the lingering presence of the monarchs training from a distance. They have been silently watching her teach the Narnians for the past two weeks, attempting to disguise it by training with one another. If they don't trust me, they need to do a better job in hiding it, Raven scoffed to herself after she caught them staring for the umpteenth time.

She didn't mind their staring a fortnight ago, when she was well rested, but now their ever-watchful eyes were goading the restless voices in her head to just lash out. It seemed that even the savage voices in her mind needed sleep just as much as Raven did, but her dreams were torturous of late. Most were memories of her sheltered life under Aslan and the parental centaurs Oreius and Anatre, The General and his wife. Then odd dreams surfaced, flashing images of the White Witch towering over her, chanting an ominous tongue that left her body frozen in discomfort. Then there would be a brown-haired maiden carrying her, a distinctly familiar bow and arrows catching her line of sight ever so often. Raven was sure she saw the same weapon gracing Queen Susan. The flashes would continue, warped noises of screams and clangs terrifying Raven awake some nights. Other nights, it would be the haunting sight of a crying woman staring at her with mournful, brown eyes filled with unshed tears as her mouth sung the same song Raven sang to Lucy all those years ago in the frozen Narnian town.

Raven was never sure if those dreams were simply just dreams, since the woman was terrifyingly familiar, but nevertheless she decided to reject sleep three nights now. It took a toll on both her mental and physical state, making her look hollowed and gray all the while acting like a looming dark storm that threatened to blanket over all who crossed her. The Dark Angel never went to any of the healers for a sleeping tonic, choosing to wander off into the woods and relinquish in peaceful moments as her tonic. Of course, the sight of a maiden cloaked in dark cloth and cladded with her bow and sword disappearing for hours on end and reappearing with no game raised plenty of suspicion. Raven knew that, but she knew that she would prove them all wrong when the time comes. As of now, she must prepare the Narnians when such time comes, for how could she possibly prove it a group of Narnians if they are all dead?

By the looks of things, it seemed that the Narnian's lack of ability to follow a basic fighting technique might get them beheaded before any Telmarine can.

"Stop!" She growled, unsheathing her sword, and stepping into the middle of the clearing where the Narnians are training. Raven pointed to a faun that she had been watching for the past few days, noticing his inability to handle a weapon. "What is your name?" She asked the lanky faun. His wide green eyes blinked robotically in shock, his mouth opened as he attempted to force any word out. "T-Thomas," he stammered out, his whispery voice breaking as he tried to withstand Raven's heavy stare. She nodded curtly, twirling her blade in the air before stepping back into a fighting stance. "You will duel with me, Thomas."