Author's Note: This is my first story and I'm super excited to be starting it, I've had the idea for a while now. I really appreciate reviews, but if you hate it, please please explain why so I know what I'm doing wrong. I am writing this based more on the movie Prince Caspian rather than the book, so there will be lines from the movie in here. I do not own this scene at all, except for a tiny part about General Glozelle. Thanks for stopping by and I hope you enjoy reading this. :D

Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia!

Prologue

The shadow of the Earth slid in front of the moon in a rare lunar eclipse, a sight that Lord Miraz gazed on from the window of the Telmarine castle. His wife screamed from the pain of childbirth just a room away. It wouldn't be long now.

The screams suddenly stopped, and Lord Miraz knew that baby must have been born. Leaning on the windowsill, he waited to be told whether he finally had an heir so he could dispatch a certain nephew of his, who just so happened to be the only thing between him and the crown. Hearing a heavy door open and his general approach, he stood still and waited.

"Lord Miraz. You have a son."

With a sigh of relief and satisfaction, Lord Miraz responded, "The heavens have blessed us. You know your orders." He turned his head sideways. "General Glozelle?"

"Yes my lord."

Miraz turned back to the window as his general left the room to obey.

A stout, cloaked figure stole through the dark hallway, his long gray beard peeking out from his hood. He soundlessly entered a room to his left; it was one he knew well. He made his way to the bed and pulled aside the curtain to see the young prince sound asleep.

The dark-haired, handsome young man woke with a start to find a hand over his mouth. Relaxing once he recognized the face of his professor, he started to turn onto his side, groggily mumbling, "Five more minutes."

"You won't be watching the stars tonight, my prince. Come. We must hurry." The urgency was unmistakable in the old man's voice, prompting the prince to look back at him with confusion written across his face. He allowed himself to be dragged out of bed by his arm, slightly more awake now.

"Professor, what is going on?"

"Your aunt has given birth…to a son."

The prince's dark brown eyes widened, realizing the danger he was now in, as the professor opened a secret door in the back of his wardrobe.

"Come!"

The sound of soldiers' footsteps sounded just outside the door, and the two darted into the wardrobe, but the prince stayed hidden behind the wardrobe door to watch.

A handful of soldiers bearing crossbows stepped into the room, making as little noise as possible so as not to wake the prince. They formed a semicircle around the bed and readied their weapons. At General Glozelle's silent signal, they released their arrows.

The prince watched in shock and horror as dozens of arrows pierced the very bed he'd been asleep in moments ago. Again and again arrows flew through the air until the curtain surrounding the bed was shredded to reveal a mattress full of arrows – but no prince.

With his heart pounding in his chest, the prince flew down the secret stairs behind his professor, stopping by the armory to grab a sword after throwing on chest armor over his nightshirt.

Moments later, the prince was mounted on his trusty horse Destrier listening to last advice from his childhood teacher.

"You must make for the woods. They won't follow you there." The aged man reached into his robes and gave the prince a strangely shaped package.

"It has taken me many years to find this."

As the prince accepted it and put it in his belt, the professor added, "Do not use it, except at your greatest need."

"Will I ever see you again?" The young man's voice spoke his care for his teacher far more than words could.

"I dearly hope so my prince. There is so much more I meant to tell you. Everything you know is about to change."

Their moment of farewell was broken by the sound of shouting guards; at his professor's hushed urging, the prince lightly kicked Destrier into a gallop, leaving the castle courtyard behind. At the sound of fireworks announcing the birth of Miraz's son, Destrier reared up on her hind legs, but soon returned to the ground, just in time for the prince to see the gates opening and a dozen or so soldiers riding out. He faced forward and kicked his ebony horse back into a gallop, leaving the Telmarine castle behind.

General Glozelle rode at the head of the soldiers, spurring his horse to go faster. No matter how he wished this was not necessary, he knew that his life would be on the line if the prince was not disposed of. Now that he had his heir, Lord Miraz wanted the final obstacle between him and the throne removed. But however ruthless the man was, General Glozelle had sworn an oath to serve him, and he, General Glozelle, was a man of his word.

He could just make out the figure of a horse and rider across the field – right in front of the forest. The two soon disappeared among the trees, and the small company of soldiers soon reached the edge of the Dark Forest. The general rode on without hesitation, only to stop and turn when he didn't find the others following.

"Which of you superstitious old women wants to spend the night in a cell?"

Turning his horse back around, the general spurred it on, hearing the others fall in behind him.

The frightened prince rode for his life through the woods, constantly checking for signs of the soldiers. Soon, he picked up the sound of hoof beats. His heart leapt into his throat, and he urged Destrier faster, throwing a glance over his shoulder.

The two flew through the forest, the prince's black, shoulder-length hair whipping back from his face as they flew through the woods. Destrier jumped a fallen log and the prince looked back to see if the soldiers were near, only to be knocked from the saddle by a fallen tree he'd failed to notice before him.

Crying out in surprise and pain, he found himself being dragged through the leaves on his back with his foot stuck in a stirrup. Grunting with the effort, he managed to pry his foot loose and came to a sudden stop in the leaves, his head throbbing and body aching.

The prince wasn't sure how long he lay there, but he still could not hear the soldiers coming. Grimacing in pain, he forced himself to a sitting position just as he heard a creak.

"Hear that?"

A black-haired, mean-looking dwarf named Nikabrik looked over to his friend Trumpkin, a blonde-haired, gruff dwarf, who nodded once in affirmation.

"We'll wait a few minutes, then check it out."

Nikabrik nodded at his friend and sat down to wait.

After a little time had passed, Trumpkin and Nikabrik rose and went to the door with their rough, stubby hands on the hilt of their sword. Quietly, so as not to wake their badger friend Trufflehunter, they slowly opened the door, instantly spotting a boy of about 17 or 18 years who jumped when he saw them.

"He's seen us."

The boy's gaze flitted over to his sword, which lay useless several feet away. At his friend's words, Trumpkin drew his sword and rushed toward the boy, who recoiled. Just as he prepared to strike, the blonde dwarf noticed a peculiar object lying near the boy.

Impossible…

Trumpkin gazed at the white horn while the boy's eyes darted between it and the dwarf. As Trumpkin stood undecidedly looking at the boy, then the horn, then the boy again, his ears caught the sound of hooves on the forest floor and the neigh of a horse.

"Take care o' him."

Trumpkin turned and ran at the soldiers, attacking with his sword in hand as Nikabrik walked menacingly toward the shocked and alarmed boy.

The prince saw the less stocky dwarf head off to fight the soldiers and his dark-haired companion start toward him, sword in hand. After a moment of indecision, he lunged desperately for the horn.

"No!" The dwarf coming at him let out a sharp yell, but was too late. The prince lifted the horn to his lips and blew it as loud as he could before he felt something hard strike his head.