King Caspian

The evening sun of Narnia gilded the railings of the Dawn Treader. The ship rocked gently on the waves of the Eastern Ocean, its bow cutting through the endless blue stretching to the horizon. A salty wind ruffled the dark hair of King Caspian, who stood at the bow.

His gaze was fixed on a distant, barely visible strip of land, visible through the haze. Another island. Another hope. Gripping the hilt of his sword, he turned, and in his eyes was the same unwavering determination as on the day of his departure.

Seven lords. Seven loyal friends of his father, exiled by the usurper Miraz. Lord Revlian, Lord Bern, Lord Argoz, Lord Mavromorn, Lord Octesian, Lord Restimar, and Lord Rhup. Their names rang in his heart like an oath he must keep to the memory of his ancestors.

The search was still not over, and somewhere out there, on the Lonely Islands or further, perhaps there was still a glimmer of hope. King Caspian could not return to Narnia until the fate of all seven had been established, and in this he was assisted by his crew, as well as Eustace, Lucy and Edmund.