The rain pelted angrily against the window. It seemed absolutely fitting on this, the darkest day of the year. Susan Pevensie fingered her locket, the one that bore the faded portraits of her mother and father. It was hard to believe another year had passed since the anniversary of that dark day – the day that a train had slipped from the tracks and ripped her entire family away from her. She bit her lip, wondering once more what she had done to deserve a life of regret and guilt. She had moved on with her life, pushing aside the pain and doing everything she could to forget – but not on this day. She owed it to them all, at least one day each year, to remember. She pushed open the trunk in the corner of the bedroom and pulled out a small framed photograph.
Her fingers traced the image, one of the few she had of the four siblings all together. It had been taken all those years ago, sent ahead of them to a professor that would be their host as they fled the city and the bombings of the war. Peter wore a smile – forced, but brave. Lucy was standing on her toes, looking past the camera at something, her face alight with curiosity. Edmund's eyes were fixed on the ground in front of them as he defiantly avoided looking at the camera. Her own smile looked bright and hopeful. She sighed, allowing memories of her siblings to overwhelm her. That year had been… well, it had been a wonder. The war had pushed them to embrace fantasies, and such fantasies! Narnia… it had felt so real. All of them had been carried off, mostly by Lucy's wondrous imagination. She blinked away tears as she looked at her sister's face. Such a vibrant, radiant life. She closed her eyes as her memory spun. Castles, ships, unicorns… Aslan.
No.
Her eyes snapped open, her white knuckled hands clenched painfully tight. She would not allow herself to sink into that rubbish fantasy again. There never was, never could be a creature like the Lion they had dreamed up as children. The One who had given them a kingdom… who had given his own life for her brother's – for them all. Her eyes hardened. If such a creature existed, she would never have been left behind – left alone. The world was cruel, and there was no magical animal who could bound in and set things right.
She shook her head as she set the picture down and reached into the trunk again, shuffling aside the maps and pictures they had drawn of their fantasy land. Her fingers landed on Edmund's pocket knife, and she trembled slightly. He had been carrying it the day he died. The police had given this to her a few days after the accident. The knife, as well as… she pulled Peter's tin lunch box from the trunk. It had been in his hands when they found him. She swallowed hard, laying a finger gently on the small padlock still in place.
As it did every year, the box taunted her. She wondered what they had been doing, what was hidden inside. She wrinkled her nose, frustrated with herself. In all likelihood, the box simply held whatever remained of his lunch that day. But as long as it was left sealed, she could imagine there was some other secret – something to keep her brothers alive in her mind.
She took a deep breath. Not this year. Time to grow up, Susan. You owe them that.
She picked up Edmund's knife, and wiggled the tip into the old padlock. A few moments later, the lock opened with a quiet click. She slipped the lock free and let it fall softly to the floor. Her stomach flipped slightly as she hesitated, fingers tingling as she pressed them against the lid. She swallowed, and the lid popped open. Her brow furrowed at the fabric she saw bunched within. She pulled it out slowly as several metallic clangs sounded as yellow and green rings clattered to the bottom of the tin box.
The rings. Professor Kirke.
Her muscles grew tense. It can't be.
Her brothers had died clinging to their stupid fantasy world. She picked up one of the rings, the flawless green surface reflecting the light of the window behind her. She felt a prickle in her fingers, almost like… She bit down on her lip and set the ring forcefully back in the tin. Overcome, she quickly gathered everything into the trunk and closed it with a forceful thud. She felt short of breath. Every year, she opened this trunk. Every year, she wished she hadn't. There were just too many memories, and they felt too real. She forced herself to stand and stepped back from the chest. Maybe it was time to get rid of it.
She was standing on something. Moving her foot, she caught a glint of metallic yellow.
Damn.
She bent down to pick up the ring peeking out from under sock. Her finger brushed the metal, and the world spun out of control.
Green light shimmered on the pool, and she let out another contented sigh. The bark felt smooth against her back. She could stay here forever. She had, as far as she could remember.
"Hello, Susan."
Susan? She looked down. A snowy white Lamb looked up at her with warm, golden eyes. She smiled at it.
"Who is Susan?"
The Lamb seemed to frown. "Daughter of Eve, you have forgotten many things." He stepped forward, whispering breath warm on her face. "This world is not your home."
She winced as memories forced their way into her mind. She sat up sharply. How long had she been here? Where was she?
"Calm yourself, daughter."
Her eyes flicked to the Lamb. "You can talk?"
The golden eyes grew stern. "You have spoken with beasts before."
She shook her head. "I'm dreaming."
The Lamb stood. "Child, you have chosen to live in a dream world for much of your life. Whether you wake up is a choice you must make."
She tried to look away from the golden eyes that stared solemnly into her own. She struggled to push down her thoughts, her feelings, but she couldn't deny them. She knew who it was that was staring into her soul.
"You… you're not real."
"I am."
She bit her lip, fingers digging into the soil. "If you are… if you are Him, why take away my family?"
The golden eyes softened. "That is not your story."
She felt her cheeks growing hot. "Not my story?"
"You, alongside your brothers and your sister, were given a gift."
She squirmed. "My bow?"
"Daughter of Eve, you have seen glimpses of the real world, and you have met Truth. Your brothers and your sister spent their lives chasing the Truth." The Lamb seemed bigger, somehow. "You chose to hide in the safety of your own fantasies, child. Tell me, have they served you well?"
Susan buried her head in her hands. This was too much. "I don't know who I am anymore."
She felt a cool nose and warm breath on her hand, and she felt stronger. "Once a queen in Narnia, always a queen."
She looked around. This world was so quiet, trees and pools as far as she could see. "Is this Narnia?"
"I told you long ago that you could not return to that place."
"Then this is the Wood the professor and Aunt Polly spoke of?"
"It is."
She looked at a nearby pit, a dried up pool. She stood and picked up some of the dust. "Then this… this world is gone? Is it… I mean…"
The Lamb gazed into the empty pool. "That story has been told, yes. But take heart – nothing good is ever really lost."
"I miss them." She met the Lamb's eyes again, but he seemed to be a Man now. "I miss you."
He smiled and gently placed a hand on her cheek. "I am with you. Always."
She reached to touch his face, but it was gone. She was sitting on the floor of her home, staring at the open trunk. In her hand was a drawing of the Lion, one her sister had drawn so many years ago.
"Mother?"
She turned to the door of the room with a smile. "Come in, sweetheart."
Her daughter scampered into the room and dropped herself on Susan's lap. "What is this?
"It's a memory… from when I was a little girl like you."
The girl reached into the trunk, flipping eagerly through the drawings and photographs. "Tell me the story, Mother! Did you travel far? Did you see a real lion?"
Susan swallowed as she looked into her daughter's eager brown eyes. Even as she hesitated, she felt a warm breath on her face and a tingle of excitement in the pit of her stomach. It was time - time to live in the real word once more. She owed that to them. She owed it to her daughter. She owed it to Him. She smiled.
"His name is Aslan. But he isn't just any lion, Lucy."
The girl listened with wonder. Susan smiled. Maybe… Maybe her story was just beginning, after all.