Narnia: Prince Caspian & The Dark Angel

17 | The Undoing

Through the haze of her vision, a small light at the furthest end of the corridor began to slowly grow brighter the more she walked.  It was gradually overtaking the dim light of the torches hanging up on the walls, shining a path towards the Stone Table. The incantations began to sound more terrible and loud the closer Raven got, like needles slowly sinking into every pore of her skin. "Gah!" She cried out in despair, nearly collapsing onto her face as her legs gave out on her. The amount of light shedding on her made her realize just how close she finally was.

Raven was in sight of the entrance of the Stone Table, and all that stood before her and the faint figure of Caspian was a short walkway. It was only a few steps and she knew that if it weren't for her utterly useless limbs, she would have already stopped said dream from occurring. Her gleaming eyes squinting enough to allow her to see the familiar hag waving her hand over the wand, and slowly rise it up to the sky. Raven felt a bolt of lightning shoot up her spine, and she lurched forward desperately. Flashes of the dream danced over her eyes, of Caspian's frightful face and her cries that fell onto deaf ears. The odd feeling of the terror she felt began to bubble up inside to the point that her body moved on its own accord.

Raven's hands scrambled to steady herself as her feet propelled her body forcefully to the entrance of the Stone Table.  One word was reverberating in her mind, overwhelming all of her senses of danger and survival. Caspian. Caspian. Caspian.

But it was too late. The hag cried out, the wand struck the ground, and a ginormous wall of ice sprouted out from the wand. It crawled up to the top of two pillars, snuffing whatever heat the fires gave with terrible frigidness. The ice glowed and crackled as it firmed up, revealing an imposing and horrifying weapon that left Raven dumbstruck with fear and distraught. Her eyes couldn't tear away from the smooth surface encasing the faint figure of none other than Jadis, the White Witch. 

"Wait, this isn't what I wanted," She heard Caspian say and saw him try to stumble away but he was held in place by the werewolf. Raven couldn't pin point this sudden emotion, feeling detached from the deep horror that turned her body back into stone and succumbing her mind to face old terrors anew. 

Loss...

A flash of Edmund's sword flying from his grip and the sharp point of the severed wand driving into the boy's abdomen. in the stomach. Another of a motionless Lucy, drifting deeper and farther in the current of the frigid River Rush. Then there was Peter, sprawled out on the floor with a sword driven into his arm and Jadis towering over him. 

Failure...

The memory of Aslan tied up on the stone table, oblivious to Crystalline's cries for him to escape, to live. The unhinged mind of hers after his death, and her brilliant sword jabbing out of the map in front of the terrified Pevensie boys.

Yet as more fears began to resurface, there was one solitary voice that spoke ever so gently in her mind, coaxing her to breath through her trembling body. "I don't think I ever stopped..."

Peter loves Crystalline. He still loves her. "One drop of Adam's blood and you free me," she heard the words tumble out eerily from the Witch's mouth. "Then I am yours, my King."