Purple boughs swayed overhead. Dim, pleasant scents that reminded one of a pale spring day floated by on the soft breeze. Cobwebs glistened with early-morning dew, and frothy clouds wandered aimlessly above.

A king stood within a structure of wood and stone. He was a young king, with hair of gold and eyes as clear as the summer sky, though they could turn as dangerous as the sea if need be.

His name was Caspian, and he was dreaming.

The structure built around him was ancient; a solitary, quiet place that he had dreamt of before. It stood on four pillars of wood, in which were carved intricate runes and designs that seemed even more ancient than the land on which it was built. Ivy climbed the pillars, trailing round and round until it was near impossible to distinguish the living from dead.

Past the ancient structure was a beach, upon which lapped wave upon wave of crystalline water, clear as glass. A flicker of movement upon the beach caught Caspian's eye, and he craned his head slightly in order to see better. What he saw made his breath catch in his throat.

A tall girl stood with her back toward him, staring out to sea. Long pale locks of her thick hair tossed in the wind, mingling with the sky itself, and the mist that rose up from the sea. He uttered a cry, and she began turning, so slowly that he knew he must be dreaming.

But before he saw her face, before the moment of knowing, of recognition, there came a scream from the waking world, and the dream shattered as he jerked awake, lunging toward the door even before he knew quite that he was awake.

It was the moment where the Canon was broken, and the beginning of the adventure.