#full speed ahead till my hands are dead get that bread

[dazzlingdisaster]

The Almighty Nyanbinary got sidetracked lmao, there's events coming up and I started/restarted like five projects. Including-

• Finally finishing the fucking wisteria skirt that has box pleats, which has been painstakingly done by hand but I got really pissed off at the waistband and I had to walk away

• Embroidering a slightly more realistic version of a sagari fuji kamon just to see if I can do it and it's easily recognized as such

• Redyeing my hair because I severely dislike my natural hair color, which is a long and arduous ordeal involving the dye making my bathroom look like a homicide scene, but the end result is a rich medium DARK naturally-SUPER-red, so-dark-it's-nearly-auburn-but-there's-no-brown, kinda-slightly-coppery that I adore. The dye code is 7RR. Literally RR means Really Red or Red Red, and it's just that - red as fuck, no undertones (the copper is because of the light and because my natural hair is dark ash blonde (6A-6.1 if you're keeping score).

• Trying to start working on fics and NOT start new ones, but that's probably not gonna happen. As long as I can keep the initial writing under ~15k I'll be happy...

• Oh I also started doing a sleep and lounge set based loosely on a kimono and pants, and I'm almost done with the top and now idk what style pants to make. I'm leaning towards hakama aesthetics but with Dazproofing because I roll and toss and turn and I don't want to wake up and get out of bed and immediately trip.

So uh yeah that's a thing. A lot of things.

I figured out how to do a text cut too. So now I'm a LOT more okay with things like the Ex Saga and general bitching because I'm not automatically subjecting people to stuff. I may not be in the habit of trigger warning stuff (most of my conversations are with a small group or one on one, and I just ask, like, hey, this subject okay? And proceed or back up depending on the answer) but I at least understand the importance of not having a giant negative triggery Wall O Fuckin Text™️ if possible, you know?

Okay I am going to go back to slowly ensuring arthritis and carpal tunnel in my hands and work on either the skirt or kamon. I've got wisteria scented- fragrance? I don't know what the formula is exactly but I really want to roll up on the event with matching visual aesthetic and scent.

[sleepychai-fics]

Road to Salvation ~ Chapter 1 - Prologue

(click for better quality)

Warnings: Death, blood (just the description of it, nothing spilt)

Word Count: 2903

Pronouns: Female

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters in BNHA. However, there are many OC’s in this fic that I’ve created. These OC’s belong to me and are specifically created for this fic.

Feedback is appreciated! Comment down below if you’d liked to be added to the Taglist for this fic!

People jump in surprise as you roll into a landing, using the momentum to take off into a sprint. You tighten your grip on the plastic bag in your hand, your backpack jostling from the movement but secure nonetheless.

“Stop her!”

You duck your upper body low to further avoid visual detection as you hear thundering footfalls behind you. Bystanders gasp and scream at your figure as you weave between them.

Two pro heroes are in close pursuit after you, shoving people and objects out of their way, leaving havoc in their wake.

They’re careless. Good.

With your small, malnourished figure, it’s easy for the well-built and highly trained pros to catch up to you. However, just as one reaches to grab at your hoodie, you leap out onto the road.

Cars screech to a halt and toot their horns as you vault across the street. You hear the pros curse you as they adjust to the sudden change in directions.

People jolt to a stop as you dash past them, veering into the nearest alleyway. The two pros race after you, citizens yelling as they are yet again shoved out of the way.

The pair turn down the alleyway but stop short once finding it a bare dead end. Anger and shock mix in their features.

“Where the fuck did she go?” One asks as he scurries towards a pile of trash bags.

“I don’t know. Maybe she didn’t turn down this alley?” The other asks as he scratches his head.

The first one gets mad and glares at the second. “I saw her come down this alley!”

“Well we can’t see her here so where else could she have gone?!”

Just as the two get ready to brawl with each other, a taunting whistle causes them to snap  their heads up.

Your peering over the edge of the tall building, too high for the heroes to even think about scaling up. A smile is spread across your lips, victory etched onto your face.

“Thanks for the run! Thought I was going to be missing out on my cardio today!” Your comment makes the pros growl in frustration. “Well, I better get going now. See ya!” You can’t help but laugh as you walk away from the ledge, the pros yelling and cursing obscene profanities at you.

You walk to the middle of the building before kneeling down and slinging off your backpack. The buzzing of your phone has you hastily unzipping your bag. Swiftly grabbing your phone from the inside pocket, you glance to the screen before accepting the call.

“Hey Dabi. What’s up?”

“You plan on coming back anytime soon?”

You hum as you stuff the bag of bread into your backpack. “Yep! Just snagged a jackpot full of bread. Even got a loaf of gluten-free. Their security is sloppy. It’s like they were asking me to steal the bag!”

Dabi chuckles. “That’s good. So I’ll see you in 15?”

“Yeah.” You take a quick glance at the time before returning the phone to your ear. “Kai should be finishing work soon so I’ll probably meet up with him on the way.”

“Cool. See you then.”

“See ya!” After hanging up the call, you toss the phone back into your bag before zipping it up. Securing the straps around your shoulders, you slide your gaze across the horizon.

You crane your neck to each side, the sound of it popping satisfying to you. Bouncing side-to-side, you sigh. “Let’s do this.”

You take off in a sprint towards the edge of the building, vaulting over the small fence with ease.

What awaits you is a large drop to the next building. Common knowledge says the fall can severely injure anyone. But you’re not afraid in the slightest.

The force of gravity pulls you into a faster descent, you feel it in your body, the way your insides seem to flutter with nervous excitement. The feeling is horrifying and absolutely amazing.

You have to squint in order to properly view below you. Your feet dangle in your vision as the cement roof gets closer with every beat of your heart. As soon as your shadow casts onto the roof, your eyes glimmer with the activation of your quirk.

The speed of your fall slows down drastically as you grip onto your quirk, fingers twitching with the effort.

Seconds pass by before you feel the soft press of cement beneath your thin-soled shoes. A smile spread across your face, heartbeat thundering with exhilarating adrenaline.

You take off once again, using your quirk to vault across and between buildings.

~*~

The bell chimes as Kai opens the door, leaving the bustling cafe and entering the busy streets. He adorns a loosely fitting black shirt which ruffles in the cool wind and tight-fitting jeans that look to be on the edge of throwing out. With a tired yawn, he lifts a hand to thread through his thick silver hair.

“I think it’s time you cut it.”

Kai snaps his dark gaze over to where you are, leaning against the wall beside the cafe entrance. He breathes out a light laugh. “You think?”

“Yeah! It’s on the brink of touching your shoulders again.” You reply as you spring off the wall.

Kai shrugs, standing beside you as the two of you merge into the moving crowd. “It’s only been five months.”

“I know, but your hair grows quickly. We should at least trim it back a couple inches.” You suggest, reaching up to ruffle his hair.

Kai swats at your hand. “Yeah okay. Are you happy to do it then?”

You chuckle as he fixes his hair to the side of his face. “Sure. How was work today?”

“Not that bad actually.” Kai switches from his annoyed tone to a happier tone. “The old lady came in today and gave me a loaf of the gluten-free bread.”

“That’s nice of her. I assume you got work tomorrow as well?”

He shakes his head. “No. He gave me a couple days off. I don’t work till next week.”

“Ahh. That’s too bad. You got paid today, right?”

“Yep. He gave me a little bit extra as an apology for being late.” Kai informs as the two of you turn a corner.

“Fucking finally! That dude had me worried he was turning into an asshole.” You say as you step out of the way of a man as he runs through the crowd.

Kai laughs as he agrees. “So was I.”

Topics of conversation pass between the two of you as you walk among the crowd. Every street you pass and every corner you turn gets more secluded as you walk. Thirty minutes pass and the environment has drastically changed from the bright eye-soar of the bustling city, to the gloomy, deserted area of the abandoned industrial part of town. The only people that occupy the streets are the homeless and the outcasts.

A cry from a dark alley reaches your ears and you abruptly stop your conversation and pause in your steps, eyes snapping towards the looming darkness of the alley. Kai, having also heard the noise, follows your actions.

“Sounded like a child.” Kai speaks softly.

You hum in agreeance, sliding off the straps of your bag. “Stay here. I’ll go check it out.” After handing your bag over to Kai, you quietly walk into the dark alley.

As a supplement to your quirk, you gained the genetic ability to see clearly in the night with barely any effort, making it much easier to peer into the dark alley. As a result of this, your eyes glow faintly in the dark.

You quietly creep deeper into the alley, surveying every object in the cramped area. With a twitch of your eye, you activate your quirk, amplifying the way you see. You feel the cold shadows of the dumpsters and litter throughout the alleyway. The bricks of the dark walls also have their own shadows despite already being in the dark.

It’s the presence of two human-like entities a few feet ahead of you that you focus on. One is slumped between the dumpster and the wall while another, smaller one kneels beside it, shaking with violent shivers. You deduce that it’s the one crying.

As you deactivate your quirk, your peer around the dumpster.

Laid against the dumpster lies a woman covered in blood, clothes torn to shreds and bruises littering her skin. Her brown eyes are half-lidded but full of fear, more so as she glances at you. Beside her kneels a child, tears steadily falling from their eyes, clothes equally torn but not as badly. Blood spots are scattered across them, but it doesn’t appear to be theirs, only a few bruises marking their skin.

The two instantly gasp and try to cower further into the wall.

You hold your hands above your shoulders as you squat before them a few feet away. “It’s okay. I mean no harm. I only wish to help you.”

The woman, presumably the mother of this child, releases the tension in her body. “Are you really?” Her voice is quiet and shaky though her tone is apprehensive.

You nod, lowering your hands to your lap and smiling. “Yes. My name is (Y/n), I can take you somewhere where we can take care of you. I’m not sure what you know about this neighbourhood, but there’s a place nearby that can help you. It’s usually referred to as ‘The Mall’.”

The mother takes a shaky breath. “I… I remember hearing… about that place. You… it’s a place where… people go when they have nowhere… else to go. They say you… take in those who are… forgotten and left out of society.”

A gentle laugh escapes you. “That’s the gist of it yes. They also say that we are the edge of villainy.”

She nods. “Yes. I heard that too. Are… Are you villains?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you answer: “Yes and no. There’s a lot of us who have managed to get a job. We use that money to get survival essentials, such as food, water, medications if necessary. We try to prioritise what we can.”

She sighs in relief. “That’s good.”

“Although, there are a few of us who the society would dub villains. I am one of those few.” This sentence raises tension between you two. “We go out and steal money and other things such as food from others.”

The child cowers closer to his mother, hands shaking as they grasp her shirt.

You continue, despite the tensions of the atmosphere. “But we have our own special rules about doing it, the main one being we only steal from those who are clearly above the average pay grade or are more than capable of supporting themselves.”

The mother laughs lightly. “Serves them right.” You laugh along with her. “You steal to survive… Something a lot of people… take for granted.” You nod and smile at her.  

You watch as her eyes avert behind you, widening with a fresh wave of fear. You already know who it is, having tracked his shadow as he entered the alley. “There’s no reason to fear here.” You assure, smiling as he kneels beside you. “This is my friend Kai. He’s also from the mall.”

“Hello.” Kai greets, head bowed slightly.

The mother instantly relaxes, patting her child’s head. “So you do…  whatever it takes to survive?”

You nod in agreement. “Yes.”

Kai speaks with a gentle voice. “We can guide you back to the mall, care for your wounds-”

A wet cough erupts from the mother, blood splattering everywhere and pooling from her mouth. The child whines and clutches tightly to her arm. She shakes her head twice. “No. It’s too late for me.”

“Mommy?” The child whimpers, new tears pooling at their eyes.

The mother's brown gaze brim with single tears, locking onto your own gaze. “Promise me… You’ll take care of my son?” She lightly gestures to the child who only quivers beside her, eyes squinting with tears and disbelief.

You nod, but Kai answers for you. “We promise we’ll do what we can for him.”

The mother smiles and lifts her shaky hands up to her neck. She fiddles with the chain of her silver necklace until she finally manages to unclasp it. With shaky movements, she carefully offers it to you, the rose engraved pendant dangling below.

“Take it. Please. Let him...have it… as a way to… re-remember me by.” Her frail voice all but begs.

Nodding, you reach over to take the necklace from her fingers. Her hand drops as soon as you take it, closing your fist around it protectively. She then peers over her son, a smile gracing her bloodied lips.

“My dear Michi…”

The boy, Michi, coughs out a sob. “Mommy.”

The mother moves her hand to cup his cheeks, the hold shaky and barely there. “My brave boy. I… want you to live… your life to the… fullest. Don’t… cry over me for… too long… I promise… that I’ll be… w-watching you… from above.” She breaks out into an airy cough, blood dribbling down her chin. Her hand drops from Michi’s cheeks, but not before swiping the few stray tears from his eyes. “I love you Michi.”

You watch as the light from her eyes fade to a dull colour. Her body is no longer twitching, chest no longer moving as her muscles give out.

Michi sobs loudly, body curling in on his deceased mother. He wails and screams, begging for her to come back despite the fact that he knows she’s gone for good.

You and Kai stay still, heads hung low in silent mourning as well as a silent promise. Neither of you move to take him away. You let him mourn the loss of his mother, not wanting to rip this moment away from him. Afterall, you both know it’ll be more detrimental to him if he doesn’t have this opportunity.

More than twenty minutes pass by sluggishly, nothing but the sounds of broken sobs and scream filling the air.

Eventually, his cries soften. He lifts his head up from his mother's stomach, eyes bloodshot from his continuous tears, face a sickly gray, most likely due to the amount of energy he spent.

He looks to you, brown eyes staring into your own until they peer down to your hand.

You smile and open your hand to reveal the necklace. “Would you like me to put it on you?”

A shiver runs through Michi’s spine, so violent he looks to be flinching.

“You don’t have to. I can give it to you to hold.”

Michi shakes his head and speaks with a low, worn out voice. “Can… Can I wear it? Please?”

You nod once. “Of course.”

Slowly, he stands up. His legs are shaky, his pants ripped beyond belief, barely giving him any protection from the cool air of the alley. He takes small steps towards you, eyes downcast, fingers twiddling with each other. Once he’s within your arms reach, he turns around to have his back face you.

Carefully, you bring the necklace around his neck, clasping it on with ease. You return your hands to your lap.

Michi turns around, and to your surprise, he wraps his arms around you. With little hesitation, you lightly wrap your own arms around him.

“My mommy trusts you. So, I will too.”

You can’t help but smile and tighten your grip. “I’m happy to hear that. I promise I won’t ever let anything bad happen to you.”

Michi tightens his own arms around you, shivering as cool wind brushes past.

“Are you cold?” Kai asks. Michi peeks his eyes over your shoulder, looking at Kai. He nods shyly.

Kai briefly takes off your bag in order to ease off his jacket, placing it over Michi. You move your arms to hold the jacket to him, tucking it around him.

“Are we going now?” Michi asks.

“It’s up to you Michi.”You reply.

Michi looks back towards his mother, his hand reaching up to grasp the pendant that hangs from the necklace. “She told me not to cry too much.”

“But you’re allowed to cry. You’re allowed to feel sad that she’s gone. Where we’re going, no one will judge. I promise.” Kai assures him, smiling at him.

“I know. But she wants me to live and be happy.”

You thread your fingers through his black hair. “If you’re ready to go, we can. But don’t feel like you have to.”

He stays quiet, staring at his paling mother with glistened eyes. A few more minutes pass by with him simply staring at her. He then turns to look at you. “She said she would be watching me from above. She never breaks a promise.”

Neither you or Kai can stop the smile from spreading on your lips. With small movements you reach up to tuck a strand of black hair behind his ear. “Then let's show her you can grow to be a strong man.”

You see him smile before burying his face in the crook of your neck, exhaustion clearly overtaking him from the way his body practically melts into yours.

Kai helps you stand up straight, ensuring Michi stays comfortable and relaxed. With only a few seconds of hesitation, the three of you exit the alleyway.

[aprisonlovestory-blog]

THE BEGINNING...

Like all good stories, they have a beginning.

Mine is no exception, though my early years may differ from most others. I was the middle child of five born from Colette Hertz. I say “was” because now as we are four since the passing of my younger brother Zeek. The oldest is James, his dad died before I was born, in what my mom said was a tragic motorcycle accident. After him is my sister Vanessa. We share the same father and I’m the closest with her than any of my other siblings. Then came yours truly. My father (at the time) was somewhat of a degenerate. Drinking heavily on a daily basis and was abusive to us and my mom. When I was 3 years of age he left.. I guess he thought he wasn’t cut out for family life. Being a single mother of three, my mother tried to do it by herself, but more often than not sought refuge in men to help support her.

One of the most prominent men being Morris - who would end up being our step dad and the father of my 2 younger brothers. From the very beginning he introduced my mother into heavy drugs and they eventually became abusive to each other and us. At this time, at the age of 4 or 5, I was quite the “wild child” due to improper guidance and neglect. I roamed our town house complexes and lower income neighborhoods getting into any sort of trouble that came my way. Stealing candy from corner stores, running away by slipping through holes under fences or broken fence panels. Wandering through the neighborhood with other disadvantaged kids stealing pop bottles from other houses to feed ourselves. James and Vanessa tried to intervene as much as they could, but they were also just kids and had their hands full when my mom had my little brother Zeek. After he was conceived my mom fell into a depression and drugs were her medication. With the help of my brothers dead beat father Morris, she began to develop a strong drug addiction, which meant leaving her neglected kids to look after the baby and to fend for themselves. As I neared age six we moved to a ghetto neighborhood known as Bridgeview. Close to the river the area was prone to flooding and decreased the property of the homes, which led to below standardized homes and poor families rented them out. When we first moved there I was bored. I knew no one, so I wandered the streets more often than not barefoot, playing idly by myself.

That is until I found the CN rail yard. I was wandering one day barefoot down a path in the bush when I came to a barbwire fence. On the other side many lines of rail tracks with cars coming and going. Curious, I began to follow the path and to my joy stumbled upon a hole cut in the fence. The ground trembled as I gingerly made my way over the rough stones covering the area. It was fun stepping from one railway plank to the next occasionally finding the odd spike that had vibrated out of the railway tie. “HEY!” came a voice from behind me, I turned to see a man in dirty coveralls making his way over to me. Startled, I scampered back over the jagged stones, squeezed through my makeshift entrance and ran through the bush the way I had come, my feet slapping the dirt path as I fled. I didn’t stop running till I got home. So I wouldn’t be noticed I went to the back door, pulling it towards myself while turning the handle so my presence would remained unnoticed. I crept inside and closed my bedroom door behind me. I laid on my bed facing the ceiling, my heart hammering in my chest from exuberance. All I could think about was idea and adventures I was going to have in this new found place (playground).

I woke up early - as I sat up I had already begun to make a plan as to what I was going to do today. I jumped outta bed, opened my bedroom door and surveyed the house. Besides someone passed out on the couch, everyone was still in their rooms sleeping. I made myself a peanut butter and bread sandwich and glanced at the clock on the stove. It was 9:30 am. I had a full day ahead of me. I quickly made my way to the hole in the fence that I discovered yesterday and stepped out into the my new playground. I bent over to tie one of my shoelaces that had come undone. I was prepared today. Barefoot would just slow me down. I carefully made my way through the yard, making sure I remained undetected this time! Walking alongside a slow moving train, I seen ladders attached to each car and had an idea. If I ran alongside a slow moving train and matched the speed I could hop on and go for a ride. Thrilled with the new prospect of adventure, I set out and started riding trains. Oblivious to the obvious danger, at first it was a bit tricky to hang on but eventually I got good at it, sometimes riding for miles before hoping off, rolling into a bush, crossing the track and waiting for one to come the opposite way. I usually didn’t have to wait long.. maybe half an hour or so.

When I was seven, my little brother Jacob was born. My mom had been taking so many drugs at the time of her pregnancy that when he was born, the amount of drugs in his system stopped his heart. The doctor revived him but immediately social services was contacted. Shortly after child services took us into the care of the ministry (with the exception of my little brother Jacob) we all went to some foster home. Jacob was the lucky one by getting adopted almost right away by whom I call my aunt and uncle. We went to live with a foster family, a couple named Cathy and Phil Williams. I’m going to leave the story about the Williams short as I have zero fond memories of them.

The only note that I’ll make is that they made my life hell along with my siblings. Cathy was unable to bear children, so at eleven years old convinced Zeek and myself that the day to day family life would get better if we agreed to being adopted. Unfortunately it didn’t and soon after they adopted us I ran away at thirteen, was arrested a short while later and thus began the beginning of the rest of my life.

[readbookywooks]

CASPIAN'S ADVENTURE IN THE MOUNTAINS

AFTER this, Caspian and his Tutor had many more secret conversations on the top of the Great Tower, and at each conversation Caspian learned more about Old Narnia, so that thinking and dreaming about the old days, and longing that they might come back, filled nearly all his spare hours. But of course he had not many hours to spare, for now his education was beginning in earnest. He learned sword-fighting and riding, swimming and diving, how to shoot with the bow and play on the recorder and the theorbo, how to hunt the stag and cut him up when he was dead, besides Cosmography, Rhetoric, Heraldry, Versification, and of course History, with a little Law, Physic, Alchemy, and Astronomy. Of Magic he learned only the theory, for Doctor Cornelius said the practical part was not proper study for princes. "And I myself," he added, "am only a very imperfect magician and can do only the smallest experiments." Of Navigation ("Which is a noble and heroical art," said the Doctor) he was taught nothing, because King Miraz disapproved of ships and the sea. He also learned a great deal by using his own eyes and ears. As a little boy he had often wondered why he disliked his aunt, Queen Prunaprismia; he now saw that it was because she disliked him. He also began to see that Narnia was an unhappy country. The taxes were high and the laws were stern and Miraz was a cruel man. After some years there came a time when the Queen seemed to be ill and there was a great deal of bustle and pother about her in the castle and doctors came and the courtiers whispered. This was in early summertime. And one night, while all this fuss was going on, Caspian was unexpectedly wakened by Doctor Cornelius after he had been only a few hours in bed. "Are we going to do a little Astronomy, Doctor?" said Caspian. "Hush!" said the Doctor. "Trust me and do exactly as I tell you. Put on all your clothes; you have a long journey before you." Caspian was very surprised, but he had learned to have confidence in his Tutor and he began doing what he was told at once. When he was dressed the Doctor said, "I have a wallet for you. We must go into the next room and fill it with victuals from your Highness's supper table." "My gentlemen-in-waiting will be there," said Caspian. "They are fast asleep and will not wake," said the Doctor. "I am a very minor magician but I can at least contrive a charmed sleep." They went into the antechamber and there, sure enough, the two gentlemen-in-waiting were, sprawling on chairs and snoring hard. Doctor Cornelius quickly cut up the remains of a cold chicken and some slices of venison and put them, with bread and an apple or so and a little flask of good wine, into the wallet which he then gave to Caspian. It fitted on by a strap over Caspian's shoulder, like a satchel you would use for taking books to school. "Have you your sword?" asked the Doctor. "Yes," said Caspian. "Then put this mantle over all to hide the sword and the wallet. That's right. And now we must go to the Great Tower and talk." When they had reached the top of the Tower (it was a cloudy night, not at all like the night when they had seen the conjunction of Tarva and Alambil) Doctor Cornelius said, "Dear Prince, you must leave this castle at once and go to seek your fortune in the wide world. Your life is in danger here." "Why?" asked Caspian. "Because you are the true King of Narnia: Caspian the Tenth, the true son and heir of Caspian the Ninth. Long life to your Majesty' - and suddenly, to Caspian's great surprise, the little man dropped down on one knee and kissed his hand. "What does it all mean? I don't understand," said Caspian. "I wonder you have never asked me before," said the Doctor, "why, being the son of King Caspian, you are not King Caspian yourself. Everyone except your Majesty knows that Miraz is a usurper. When he first began to rule he did not even pretend to be the King: he called himself Lord Protector. But then your royal mother died, the good Queen and the only Telmarine who was ever kind to me. And then, one by one, all the great lords, who had known your father, died or disappeared. Not by accident, either. Miraz weeded them out. Belisar and Uvilas were shot with arrows on a hunting party: by chance, it was pretended. All the great house of the Passarids he sent to fight giants on the northern frontier till one by one they fell. Arlian and Erimon and a dozen more he executed for treason on a false charge. The two brothers of Beaversdam he shut up as madmen. And finally he persuaded the seven noble lords, who alone among all the Telmarines did not fear the sea, to sail away and look for new lands beyond the Eastern Ocean, and, as he intended, they never came back. And when there was no one left who could speak a word for you, then his flatterers (as he had instructed them) begged him to become King. And of course he did." "Do you mean he now wants to kill me too?" said Caspian. "That is almost certain," said Doctor Cornelius. "But why now?" said Caspian. "I mean, why didn't he do it long ago if he wanted to? And what harm have I done him?" "He has changed his mind about you because of something that happened only two hours ago. The Queen has had a son." "I don't see what that's got to do with it," said Caspian. "Don't see!" exclaimed the Doctor. "Have all my lessons in History and Politics taught you no more than that? Listen. As long as he had no children of his own, he was willing enough that you should be King after he died. He may not have cared much about you, but he would rather you should have the throne than a stranger. Now that he has a son of his own he will want his own son to be the next King. You are in the way. He'll clear you out of the way." "Is he really as bad as that?" said Caspian. "Would he really murder me?" "He murdered your Father," said Doctor Cornelius. Caspian felt very queer and said nothing. "I can tell you the whole story," said the Doctor. "But not now. There is no time. You must fly at once." "You'll come with me?" said Caspian. "I dare not," said the Doctor. "It would make your danger greater. Two are more easily tracked than one. Dear Prince, dear King Caspian, you must be very brave. You must go alone and at once. Try to get across the southern border to the court of King Nain of Archenland. He will be good to you." "Shall I never see you again?" said Caspian in a quavering voice. "I hope so, dear King," said the Doctor. "What friend have I in the wide world except your Majesty? And I have a little magic. But in the meantime, speed is everything. Here are two gifts before you go. This is a little purse of gold alas, all the treasure in this castle should be your own by rights. And here is something far better." He put in Caspian's hands something which he could hardly see but which he knew by the feel to be a horn. "That," said Doctor Cornelius, "is the greatest and most sacred treasure of Narnia. Many terrors I endured, many spells did I utter, to find it, when I was still young. It is the magic horn of Queen Susan herself which she left behind her when she vanished from Narnia at the end of the Golden Age. It is said that whoever blows it shall have strange help - no one can say how strange. It may have the power to call Queen Lucy and King Edmund and Queen Susan and High King Peter back from the past, and they will set all to rights. It may be that it will call up Asian himself. Take it, King Caspian: but do not use it except at your greatest need. And now, haste, haste, haste. The little door at the very bottom of the Tower, the door into the garden, is unlocked. There we must part." "Can I get my horse Destrier?" said Caspian. "He is already saddled and waiting for you just at the corner of the orchard." During the long climb down the winding staircase Cornelius whispered many more words of direction and advice. Caspian's heart was sinking, but he tried to take it all in. Then came the fresh air in the garden, a fervent handclasp with the Doctor, a run across the lawn, a welcoming whinny from Destrier, and so King Caspian the Tenth left the castle of his fathers. Looking back, he saw fireworks going up to celebrate the birth of the new prince. All night he rode southward, choosing by-ways and bridle paths through woods as long as he was in country that he knew; but afterwards he kept to the high road. Destrier was as excited as his master at this unusual journey, and Caspian, though tears had come into his eyes at saying good-bye to Doctor Cornelius, felt brave and, in a way, happy, to think that he was King Caspian riding to seek adventures, with his sword on his left hip and Queen Susan's magic horn on his right. But when day came, with a sprinkle of rain, and he looked about him and saw on every side unknown woods, wild heaths, and blue mountains, he thought how large and strange the world was and felt frightened and small. As soon as it was full daylight he left the road and found an open grassy place amid a wood where he could rest. He took off Destrier's bridle and let him graze, ate some cold chicken and drank a little wine, and presently fell asleep. It was late afternoon when he awoke. He ate a morsel and continued his journey, still southward, by many unfrequented lanes. He was now in a land of hills, going up and down, but always more up than down. From every ridge he could see the mountains growing bigger and blacker ahead. As the evening closed in, he was riding their lower slopes. The wind rose. Soon rain fell in torrents. Destrier became uneasy; there was thunder in the air. And now they entered a dark and seemingly endless pine forest, and all the stories Caspian had ever heard of trees being unfriendly to Man crowded into his mind. He remembered that he was, after all, a Telmarine, one of the race who cut down trees wherever they could and were at war with all wild things; and though he himself might be unlike other Telmarines, the trees could not be expected to know this. Nor did they. The wind became a tempest, the woods roared and creaked all round them. There came a crash. A tree fell right across the road just behind him. "Quiet, Destrier, quiet!" said Caspian, patting his horse's neck; but he was trembling himself and knew that he had escaped death by an inch. Lightning flashed and a great crack of thunder seemed to break the sky in two just overhead. Destrier bolted in good earnest. Caspian was a good rider, but he had not the strength to hold him back. He kept his seat, but he knew that his life hung by a thread during the wild career that followed. Tree after tree rose up before them in the dusk and was only just avoided. Then, almost too suddenly to hurt (and yet it did hurt him too) something struck Caspian on the forehead and he knew no more. When he came to himself he was lying in a firelit place with bruised limbs and a bad headache. Low voices were speaking close at hand. "And now," said one, "before it wakes up we must decide what to do with it." "Kill it," said another. "We can't let it live. It would betray us." "We ought to have killed it at once, or else let it alone," said a third voice. "We can't kill it now. Not after we've taken it in and bandaged its head and all. It would be murdering a guest." "Gentlemen," said Caspian in a feeble voice, "whatever you do to me, I hope you will be kind to my poor horse." "Your horse had taken flight long before we found you," said the first voice - a curiously husky, earthy voice, as Caspian now noticed. "Now don't let it talk you round with its pretty words," said the second voice. "I still say - " "Horns and halibuts!" exclaimed the third voice. "Of course we're not going to murder it. For shame, Nikabrik. What do you say, Trufflehunter? What shall we do with it?" "I shall give it a drink," said the first voice, presumably Trufflehunter's. A dark shape approached the bed. Caspian felt an arm slipped gently under his shoulders - if it was exactly an arm. The shape somehow seemed wrong. The face that bent towards him seemed wrong too. He got the impression that it was very hairy and very long nosed, and there were odd white patches on each side of it. "It's a mask of some sort," thought Caspian. "Or perhaps I'm in a fever and imagining it all." A cupful of something sweet and hot was set to his lips and he drank. At that moment one of the others poked the fire. A blaze sprang up and Caspian almost screamed with the shock as the sudden light revealed the face that was looking into his own. It was not a man's face but a badger's, though larger and friendlier and more intelligent than the face of any badger he had seen before. And it had certainly been talking. He saw, too, that he was on a bed of heather, in a cave. By the fire sat two little bearded men, so much wilder and shorter and hairier and thicker than Doctor Cornelius that he knew them at once for real Dwarfs, ancient Dwarfs with not a drop of human blood in their veins. And Caspian knew that he had found the Old Narnians at last. Then his head began to swim again. In the next few days he learned to know them by names. The Badger was called Trufflehunter; he was the oldest and kindest of the three. The Dwarf who had wanted to kill Caspian was a sour Black Dwarf (that is, his hair and beard were black, and thick and hard like horsehair). His name was Nikabrik. The other Dwarf was a Red Dwarf with hair rather like a Fox's and he was called Trumpkin. "And now," said Nikabrik on the first evening when Caspian was well enough to sit up and talk, "we still have to decide what to do with this Human. You two think you've done it a great kindess by not letting me kill it. But I suppose the upshot is that we have to keep it a prisoner for life. I'm certainly not going to let it go alive - to go back to its own kind and betray us all." "Bulbs and bolsters! Nikabrik," said Trumpkin. "Why need you talk so unhandsomely? It isn't the creature's fault that it bashed its head against a tree outside our hole. And I don't think it looks like a traitor." "I say," said Caspian, "you haven't yet found out whether I want to go back. I don't. I want to stay with you - if you'll let me. I've been looking for people like you all my life." "That's a likely story," growled Nikabrik. "You're a Telmarine and a Human, aren't you? Of course you want to go back to your own kind." "Well, even if I did, I couldn't," said Caspian. "I was flying for my life when I had my accident. The King wants to kill me. If you'd killed me, you'd have done the very thing to please him." "Well now," said Trufflehunter, "you don't say so!" "Eh?" said Trumpkin. "What's that? What have you been doing, Human, to fall foul of Miraz at your age?" "He's my uncle," began Caspian, when Nikabrik jumped up with his hand on his dagger. "There you are!" he cried. "Not only a Telmarine but close kin and heir to our greatest enemy. Are you still mad enough to let this creature live?" He would have stabbed Caspian then and there, if the Badger and Trumpkin had not got in the way and forced him back to his seat and held him down. "Now, once and for all, Nikabrik," said Trumpkin. "Will you contain yourself, or must Trufflehunter and I sit on your head?" Nikabrik sulkily promised to behave, and the other two asked Caspian to tell his whole story. When he had done so there was a moment's silence. "This is the queerest thing I ever heard," said Trumpkin. "I don't like it," said Nikabrik. "I didn't know there were stories about us still told among the Humans. The less they know about us the better. That old nurse, now. She'd better have held her tongue. And it's all mixed up with that Tutor: a renegade Dwarf. I hate 'em. I hate 'em worse than the Humans. You mark my words - no good will come of it. "Don't you go talking about things you don't understand, Nikabrik," said Trufflehunter. "You Dwarfs are as forgetful and changeable as the Humans themselves. I'm a beast, I am, and a Badger what's more. We don't change. We hold on. I say great good will come of it. This is the true King of Narnia we've got here: a true King, coming back to true Narnia. And we beasts remember, even if Dwarfs forget, that Narnia was never right except when a son of Adam was King." "Whistles and whirligigs! Trufflehunter," said Trumpkin. "You don't mean you want to give the country to Humans?" "I said nothing about that," answered the Badger. "It's not Men's country (who should know that better than me?) but it's a country for a man to be King of. We badgers have long enough memories to know that. Why, bless us all, wasn't the High King Peter a Man?" "Do you believe all those old stories?" asked Trumpkin. "I tell you, we don't change, we beasts," said Trufflehunter. "We don't forget. I believe in the High King Peter and the rest that reigned at Cair Paravel, as firmly as I believe in Aslan himself." "As firmly as that, I dare say," said Trumpkin. "But who believes in Aslan nowadays?" "I do," said Caspian. "And if I hadn't believed in him before, I would now. Back there among the Humans the people who laughed at Aslan would have laughed at stories about Talking Beasts and Dwarfs. Sometimes I did wonder if there really was such a person as Aslan: but then sometimes I wondered if there were really people like you. Yet there you are." "That's right," said Trufflehunter. "You're right, King Caspian. And as long as you will be true to Old Narnia you shall be my King, whatever they say. Long life to your Majesty." "You make me sick, Badger," growled Nikabrik. "The High King Peter and the rest may have been Men, but they were a different sort of Men. This is one of the cursed Telmarines. He has hunted beasts for sport. Haven't you, now?" he added, rounding suddenly on Caspian. "Well, to tell you the truth, I have," said Caspian. "But they weren't Talking Beasts." "It's all the same thing," said Nikabrik. "No, no, no," said Trufflehunter. "You know it isn't. You know very well that the beasts in Narnia nowadays are different and are no more than the poor dumb, witless creatures you'd find in Calormen or Telmar. They're smaller too. They're far more different from us than the half-Dwarfs are from you." There was a great deal more talk, but it all ended with the agreement that Caspian should stay and even the promise that, as soon as he was able to go out, he should be taken to see what Trumpkin called "the Others"; for apparently in these wild parts all sorts of creatures from the Old Days of Narnia still lived on in hiding.