Excerpt from the Diary of Lt. Daniel Pevensie

Nov 1, 1944

The most extraordinary thing has happened. We caught up to the Ahnenerbe but not quite in time. I must admit that until last night I'd always thought those fools' notions of ancestral heritage and the Aryan race were a load of crock, but now, proof that refutes my beliefs is sleeping fitfully in the next tent. I must back up and explain, I suppose.

We came upon Reichsfuhrer Himmler and his heretics just as the twelfth stroke of midnight was sounding, too late to put a stop to whatever witchcraft it was they were attempting. They'd set up a sort of monument consisting of standing stones like one of the dolmens of Stone Hedge. Before we had time to even start moving into position a great light flared from inside the stones, and a boy stumbled through, when I'd swear on the heads of my children that he had not been anywhere in the vicinity moments earlier. The boy fell to his hands and knees, seeming dazed, and a horrendous noise that I hope never to hear the like of again filled the air. It sounded like the roar of a lion but with more fury than any earthly animal is capable of possessing. Abruptly the noise was cut short and the great light died away from the stones. Though the light from those foul Nazi's fires had been sufficient to see before, in the wake of that otherworldly flare our sight seemed much dimmer.

We saw the boy raise his head like one dazed. Then he was on his feet, stumbling away from the members of the Ahnenerbe. I could not see his expression, but I don't doubt it was one of great fear. Himmler himself approached the boy, though for every step forward Himmler took the youth took one backward until he reached the standing stones. Suddenly he drew a sword I hadn't even realized he possessed and charged the Reichsfuhrer with a scream. The sound of gunfire echoed through the night and the boy fell to the ground.

It was then that we made our move. As the Nazi gathered round the boy like wolves around a kill we ambushed them, raining down gunfire upon them, but aiming high as per our commander's instructions so as not to further injure the boy. The dogs scattered like the bloody cowards they are, though a number of them fell dead to our bullets. Himmler himself escaped – a shame, but I can't imagine that Hitler will be too pleased with his latest failure.

Once the fight was over we saw to the boy. He was very fortunate. A bullet grazed the side of his head but only took away flesh and muscle. He was very confused and scared and rightfully so. If I had heard anyone else say it, I would never have believed it, but I saw with my own eyes that this child was called forth from another world. Our physician saw to his wound and gave him something for the pain, but it had a rather more potent effect on the chap than intended and put him almost directly to sleep. We were able to get very little information out of him other than his name. He told us that he is King Caspian X of Narnia.




Chapter One

Susan watched with growing dread as her cousin Eustace Scrubb shuffled his feet. A glance at her brothers and sister told her that they had the same desperate feeling of foreboding.

"Please sit down," Eustace said, looking mainly at Edmund and Lucy, but his eyes flitted to Susan and Peter as well.

The siblings exchanged glances, then, almost as if it were reflex, both Peter and Edmund pulled out chairs at the table for Susan and Lucy before taking seats themselves.

"I'm terribly sorry to be the bearer of bad news." Eustace's voice cracked a bit and despite her fear, Susan couldn't help but marvel at the change in him. The last time she'd seen him had been . . . Almost twenty years ago if she counted her time spent in Narnia. It was closer to three or four if she hadn't, but either way she remembered what a whiny little brat he'd been, constantly making rude comments and trying to harass her and her siblings.

"Eustace?" Lucy asked softly when their cousin hesitated. "What is it?"

Eustace blinked as though he'd forgotten that they were waiting for him to speak then drew himself up formally. "It is," he said slowly, as though hoping something would happen to prove him wrong before he finished speaking, "my greatest regret to inform you . . . that King Caspian is dead."

It was a good thing that Susan was sitting. Though she'd never fainted before in her life there was no doubt in her mind that she would have done just that had she been on her feet. A great roar began to buzz in her ears and she felt as though all the blood in her body was rushing to her head. Yet at the same time she couldn't quite comprehend what it was her cousin had said. "Who?" she almost asked. That name sounded so foreign.

Lucy started crying straightaway. Even through the fog in her mind, Susan could hear her sobs. Dimly, as though watching the scene through a bus window, Susan saw Eustace hesitantly put his arms around the youngest Pevensie and pull her into an awkward hug. That would never have happened before Eustace found his way into Narnia.

"How?" Edmund asked, his voice shaking. "Was there . . . a war? Did he die in battle?"

Lucy started sobbing harder. Eustace tightened his hold on her and patted her back, trying to comfort her the best he could. "No," he told them. "He died of . . . old age."

The words still didn't make any sense to Susan. So what if some old man was dead? She might not have even known there was anything wrong with that statement if not for her siblings' reactions.

Lucy dropped to her knees, wailing, trying to hide her face in her hands, forcing Eustace to sink to the ground with her. Peter reeled away from the table as though he'd just found it was covered with adders. He staggered and grabbed onto the back of his chair for balance and then just held onto it and bowed his head.

Susan didn't see Edmund at first but didn't even think to look for him. Not until she felt a soft touch on her arm. She looked up slowly and met her youngest brother's eyes. They were glassy with tears and drawn with grief, but unlike her other siblings, there was something else in his expression.

Concern. Edmund was worried about her. He was heartbroken at the old man's passing, whoever that old man was, but he was putting aside his pain to make certain his sister would be all right.

It was Edmund's strength that made it all suddenly click for Susan, almost as though some part of her had known all along what had happened but wouldn't allow her to understand it because it knew she could not cope with it on her own. And Edmund, Edmund who hated mushy, girly stuff, held his arms open to embrace her, pain and sorrow darkening every line of his face, but in his expression there was love as well. Susan stared at him blankly for only a heartbeat then threw herself into her brother's arms, crying and shaking as sobs wracked her body.

Eustace had said Caspian, she realized.

Caspian was dead.




Historical Note:

In case anyone is interested there actually was a German organization during WWII called Ahnenerbe. It was made up of a bunch of white supremacist Nazi scumbags who were deluded into believing they were part of an ancient order descended from and devoted to restoring the glory of a so called master race – the Aryan race, which had allegedly been scattered across the globe by storms and floods. They were led by Heinrich Himmler, though he was too busy mass-murdering people to do too much by way of leading them.

Anyway, these crackpots have been the inspiration for various villains in popular culture, like the antagonists in the Hellboy comics as well as in the first and third Indiana Jones movies. There is discrepancy about how much the Ahnenerbe actually delved into mysticism and the occult, but I won't bore you with the details. The way I see it – if they can summon Hellboy out of hell in graphic literature than there's no reason why they can't summon Prince Caspian out of Narnia in fanfiction.