Prologue
A young man, his hair and eyes black as night, was being pursued by soldiers atop mighty steeds. His life depended on his escape.
Run…
He sped across the Narnian countryside, heading straight into the Western Wood. The soldiers' horse's stalled for a moment. Their leader turned back to them.
"Which of you superstitious old women wants to spend the night in the cell?" he demanded; his Spanish accent was thick.
He took off into the Western Wood once more, after the boy. The other soldiers quickly followed him.
Hurry up, boy!
A single wailing ocarina was the underscore of the young lad's journey as he continued through the dark wood. He turned his head to see if he was being followed, only to be smacked off his horse by a tree branch. His foot caught in the stirrup, he was dragged through the autumn leaves until he freed himself. He lay still, stunned, in a clearing.
GET UP! You're right by a home! Get help!
Clearly the boy had never seen a Narnian burrow before, because, when two dwarves opened the small door, he sat up and pulled himself away in fright.
"He's seen us," the shorter of the two gasped.
The blonde dwarf started towards him with a small sword drawn, going in for the kill, until he was something. The horn of Queen Susan, the Gentle, had fallen from the boy's cloak.
The soldiers seemed to be arriving just in the nick of time. The blonde dwarf looked at the black-haired one.
"You take care of him," he said, motioning to the young man as he took off towards to soldiers.
The black haired dwarf started towards him. Being frightened for his life beyond all reason, the boy crawled towards the horn and picked it up.
"NO," the dwarf cried.
The young man put it to his lips and blew…
I started, bolting up in my bed. That dream had been too real. Susan's horn still rang in my ear.
"It's just a dream, Pipa," I mumbled to myself, lying back down, "Go back to sleep…"
It had begun.