I have ventured through fierce and dangerous waters, the wind beating my face and my sail broken.
I have fled through the woods in hopes I would reach the Old Narnians.
I have fought side-by-side with High King Peter.
I kissed Susan Pevensie as she gave me her most treasured possession...her horn.
I have considered Edmund Pevensie the younger brother I never had.
I have discussed Narnian history and literature with the bright Lucy Pevensie.
I have been crowned king of one of the strongest countries in the whole world.
With a mouse at my side, I saved my companions from slavery.
I have met face-to-face with a fierce dragon.
I have slain thousands of evil-doers and troublemakers.
I was almost possessed by a werewolf and a jinn.
I have even seen the Great Aslan Himself, on numerous occasions.
But those memories are meager compared to the day when I held an eight-pound creation of mine, the daughter of a star resting on my shoulder, and I had the grave occupation of a father.