Caspian POV

Caspian had come to three conclusions since being in Susan's world.

One, it was chaotic.

The people that were still clustered around him, with their oddly bright colored uniforms, were loud and talked over one another. Caspian was used to noisiness within the kingdom walls and in battle, but this was a little much. It also didn't help that people were crushed together so tight that they were rubbing elbows. Caspian felt as if he was going to get the life squeezed out of his being.

Two, it was odoriferous.

A bunch of different scents mingled in the air in front of hs face, assaulting his nose. Caspain coughed on the air, which caused the people crushed against him to stare at him even stranger. They apparently didn't want to catch a cold from someone who was dressed in a chain mail shirt.

And three, it was all so confusing.

Caspain watched as a majority of the people surged toward this map on the wall and tried to figure out where their destination was. They would stare at the ticket in their hands and then trace their finger along the lines on the map, figuring out where all the stops were. Caspian didn't understand why going place to place should be made so confusing. It wasn't hard to travel anywhere in Narnia. It was all straight forward.

Caspian knew that he wanted to find Susan, but he had no idea where to start. He knew no one and Susan was bound for who knows where. Deciding that the best course of action was to seperate himself from the crowd so he could think clearly, Caspian walked over to a bench off to the side and sat down. He hung his head and pondered his predicament.

"Lost stranger?"

Caspian brought his head up to look into the kind hazel eyes of a man. The man appeared to be in his mid-forties, with a thinning head of brown hair streaked with gray. He had a paint easel under one arm and painted canvases under the other. He clutched a ratty bag of paint supplies in one hand.

"Um...sort of," replied Caspian.

"Is there a place you're looking for?" asked the man.

"No, not exactly," said Caspian.

The man furrowed his eyebrows in puzzlement.

"What are you looking for then?" asked the man.

"The girl of my dreams; the queen of my heart," said Caspian with a sigh. He hung his head once more. "But I don't know how to find her."

"Ah," said the man. "Young love."

The man looked at Caspian in his saddened state and felt bad.

"What's her name?" asked the man.

"Susan Pevensie," replied Caspain, her name rolling off his tongue like a melody.

"Ah, beautiful name," said the man. "She's one lucky girl to have a guy chasing after her."

Caspain looked up at him and said, "How is she lucky if the one she is suppose to be with can't find her?"

The man laughed at Caspian's remark.

"Well, I know some people in the neighborhood that know the Pevensies. Maybe one of them knows where they have gone," said the man. "Do you have somewhere to stay?"

"No sir," replied Caspian.

"I'd be happy if you stayed with me until we find where your Susan is," said the man with a smile.

"Thank you very much," said Caspian grateful that in the confusion a friendly face had appeared to assist him.

"And thank you Aslan,"

thought Caspian as he stood up off the bench.

"May I help you carry something?" asked Caspian watching as the man struggled with his load.

Caspian reached over and took the paint easel from under his arm. Caspian tucked it under his own arm. The man smiled and said, "Thank you. What's your name son?"

"My name is Caspian," he replied.

"Your name reminds me of the Caspian sea," said the man. "Are you like the sea? Are you fierce yet calm? Is that how you got your name?"

"I'm not sure how I got my name," laughed Caspian. "But yes, I tend to be fierce when I'm in war and calm when I need to lead."

"You're a soldier then?" asked the man, looking at Caspian's outfit. "Is that what they are making the outfits wear now? That's one interesting uniform!"

"What's your name?" asked Caspian as the man started to thread his way through the crowd.

"My name is Cornelius," said the man.

Caspian thought it was a weird coincedence that the man who was helping him out had the same name as his mentor. Though they looked nothing alike, they both had helped him out of a dismal looking situation.

As Caspian followed Cornelius up the stairs, he noticed that it was getting lighter above him. Before he realized it, he was standing out in the sunshine and fresh air. As they were walking through the thinner crowd above the surface, Caspian noticed that there were three teenage boys standing off to one side. They had some kind of smoking tube in their mouths and they were watching them as they walked closer. The teenage boys had ratty looking clothes on. Their clothes looked as if they had been dragged through the mud. It also looked as if they hadn't washed up in forever, dirt covering their faces, underlining their impish eyes.

"Hey Pops!" yelled out one of the teenage boys. "What did you paint today?"

Caspian watched as the teenage boys approached Cornelius. They yanked one of the canvases out from underneath his arms and studied it.

"Ha! This one doesn't look like anything!" stated one of the boys.

They took the smoking tube out of their mouth and rubbed it onto the canvas. It left a smoking black streak in the middle of it. The whole time, Cornelius didn't say anything; he just hung his head.

"Leave him alone!" yelled out Caspian.

The teenage boys turned to look at him. When they saw his attire, they started to laugh at him.

"Look at who's talking!" laughed one of the boys. "You look like you belong in a Shakespeare play!"

Caspain drew out his sword from his belt at his side, placing the easel onto the ground. He pointed the point of the sword at the boys and said, "Not much to laugh about now, is there?"

They all shook their heads "no". Caspian closed the distance between him and the boys and said in a deathly whisper, "Now I want you to leave him alone and not bother him again, understand? Because if I ever catch you bothering him again...lets just say this sword isn't just for decoration."

With that, Caspian sliced his sword through the air and cut off the tip of the smoking tube in one of their mouths. The three of them stared at Caspian in fear for a second before running off. As they disappeared from sight, Caspian replaced his sword in his sheath and picked up the easel, retucking it under his arm. Cornelius stared at him for a minute.

"There's more to you than you're telling me, isn't there?" asked Cornelius. Cornelius studied Caspian for a minute more before saying, "I think we need to talk."

Would LOVE to hear what you think! :) Thanks so much for reading what I've written thus far!