The forest was quiet after the battle at the river. Too quiet. Caspian’s sword arm trembled from the fight, his breath uneven as he backed deeper into the trees. The flash of steel, the shouts of soldiers, and then—silence. Only the whisper of leaves and the pulse of the horn’s echo in his mind.

Then he saw them.

Four figures stepped out from between the shadows of the ancient woods. They didn’t move like soldiers. They moved like legends.

Peter stood tall, hand on his sword. Susan beside him, her bow drawn but calm. The younger boy—Edmund—watched everything sharply, and Lucy’s wide eyes glimmered with wonder and recognition.

Caspian’s heart stuttered. He’d seen those faces before… carved into stone, painted in old Narnian halls.

“Who are you?” Peter demanded, lifting his blade slightly.

“My name is Caspian,” he said, lowering his weapon slowly. “Prince of Telmar… or at least, I was.”

Lucy stepped forward, her voice soft but sure. “You’re the one who blew the horn.”

Caspian nodded. “I—I didn’t expect anyone to actually come.”

Susan glanced at Peter, lowering her bow. “We didn’t either.”

The tension eased, but only slightly. Caspian studied them all carefully. The Horn of Queen Susan had been said to summon the Kings and Queens of Old—yet something was wrong.

“There are only four of you,” he said before he could stop himself.

Peter frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The stories…” Caspian hesitated. “They speak of five thrones at Cair Paravel. Five crowns, not four. The Fifth Queen—the Quiet Flame.”

The siblings exchanged quick, uncertain glances. Lucy’s brow furrowed. “Jinnie.”

Susan turned sharply to her. “Lucy—don’t.”

“She’s right,” Edmund said, voice low. “It does feel strange without her. Like something’s missing.”

Peter’s jaw tightened. He sheathed his sword. “Jinnie isn’t here. She didn’t come back with us.”

Caspian looked at them, confused. “She’s your sister?”

“Yes,” Lucy whispered. “Our older sister. Just one year above Susan. But when we returned to Narnia, she wasn’t with us.”

The prince’s heart quickened. “Then perhaps the horn called you both—but she came through somewhere else.”

Susan’s voice softened. “If she’s here… she’s alone. But also what if shes not here and still in England?”