The waves of the eastern sea rolled into the land and back into the ocean. The sky along the horizon shined with rays of golden, pink and blue. The sun was slowly over the western lands, shining its last few rays of light upon the grand castle of Cair Paravel. The castle shined light a beacon along the eastern shore.
In the grand courtyard of Cair Paravel, entered a tall man. His shoulders were broad and high. He walked with grace and stature. Curled hair of dark brown, inherited from his father, hung around his whiskered face. Yet his blue eyes, inherited by his mother, gazed upon his destination as he walked through the courtyard.
Tombs of marble lay upon the ground of the courtyard, numbering four. Within oldest of the tombs lay the Gentle Queen of Narnia. His mother, Susan, taken from him only a short time after his own birth. Despite the young age he had been when his mother's selfless death came upon the land, he had dreams his mother. As a young boy, he found the tales of his mother to be marvelous. He always imagined the grace of his mother and kind nature.
To her left lay his father, King Caspian. He remembered the fateful death his father fell at the hand of the enemy. He had come too late to his father's aid, but remained at his side upon his final moments. He remembered how his father was not afraid of death, but welcomed it. He remembered his father's final words of, speaking of his mother. And once he had passed, he knew his father was at peace, he was with his mother.
To the right of Susan's tomb lay two of her sibling. The first was the youngest of them. His aunt Queen Lucy, taken a few years ago from a vile illness that spread through the land. Even her cordial could not save her. He remembered moments with his dear aunt, spending time in the forest with her smiling face and musical laugh. Often Lucy would trail onto a tale of his mother and tell him of their adventures in Spare Oom.
To the right of his aunt was his uncle, Edmund, fallen in the same battle as his father. He had learned most, if not all, of his swordsmanship from his uncle. They had great duels and shared wonderful tales. The results often came as the same, Edmund disarming him.
"Rilian." Came a familiar voice.
Rilian turned to find his uncle, Peter, standing behind him. Peter had been the same age as his father, give or take a year, but lacked his height. As Rilian grew, Peter had often taken him for a ride around the ground of Cair Paravel, regaling him of tales of the Golden Age. Yet uncle or no, Peter was still the High King.
"Yes, King Peter?" Rilian asked.
Peter smirked. "My time as King has long since passed, Rilian. And besides, you are King now."
Rilian nodded. "A title I am still not familiar with."
Peter reached out and pat his nephew's shoulder. "You will with time."
"My only fear is the amount of time." Rilian said.
Peter chuckled. "I was unsure you would arrive in time."
"Nothing could stop me from coming." Rilian replied. He looked out at the tombs of his family. His loved ones, that he had lost since before he could remember. Nearly his entire family was before him, forever cast in marble.
"Rilian, has anyone ever told you how your mother died?" Peter asked.
Rilian turned to his uncle, his face in utter shock.
"I would say 'no', then." Peter answered.
"Why do you ask?" Rilian asked.
Peter shook his head. "We raised you on the stories of her life, yet we left out the very one where we lost her."
"What happened?" Rilian asked. Never has any ever uttered a word of the tale of his mother's death.
Peter sighed. "It happened not long after you were born. Some Telmarine's revolted against us, they drove us from the castle. We regrouped at Aslan's How, and formed our retaking of the castle. We had planned for only three of us to return to the castle, myself, Edmund, and your father. But Susan wouldn't have it.
"Susan never liked war, but wherever Caspian went, Susan would fallow. Lucy would have joined us as well, but she stayed behind to tend to the injured." Peter sighed again.
"We took back the castle, but it was difficult. We had managed to drive them into the courtyard. We were all in a bit of a pinch in battle, but Su saved us all. She set our lives above her own, using her gifted archery skills to save us. In the end, she fell by those of Telmarine skills." Peter finished.
"She was…struck by Telmarine arrows?" Rilian asked.
Peter nodded. "Three. I could have sworn that time had stopped when those arrows pierced her chest. She fell upon the steps of the courtyard. I could only watch from a distance as your father fought to reach her side. I set out for the How, to retrieve Lucy, in hopes of saving Susan…but we returned to late."
Rilian was silent. He had always been told that his mother was gentle, kind, and courageous. She had given her life to save her brothers and his father. She had fought valiantly, as every soldier was trained to fight. A foreigner to Narnia, gave her life for the country that now remembered her.
Peter chuckled. "The day of her funeral, I wanted to beat your father to a bloody pulp. Your father an d I never really saw eye to eye when we were younger, but when he married your mother, I promised Susan I would stop being a prick to him and give him a chance. But when he never made an appearance to her funeral, I had to confront him. I found him in one of the gardens, watching you. I could tell he missed her, he missed her until the day he was finally able to join her, but he was worried about you that day. He wondered if he could raise you without her, whether or not you would grow up knowing your mother."
"I did, thanks to all of them, and you." Rilian said.
Peter smiled. "Though we often wondered if we were telling he stories of her too often."
Rilian chuckled. "I often felt you couldn't tell them enough."
Peter chuckled, but it soon turned into a harsh cough.
"Uncle?" Rilian asked.
Peter waved him. "Just old age catching up to me. I guess that the only way the old High King can leave."
"Do not talk like that uncle." Rilian pleaded.
"Sorry Rilian. But sometimes a joke can be the only way to deal with the pain." Peter said.
"Do you miss them?" Rilian asked.
Peter nodded. "Not a day goes by that I don't miss them." The he chuckled. "I think I talked to your father about this the day I nearly punched him."
Rilian couldn't help but smirked. "I don't remember my father ever mentioning this before."
"Your father also isn't suffering from old age." Peter chuckled.
Rilian chuckled.
"But in all seriousness Rilian, I sense it will not be long before I join my brothers and sisters." Peter explained. "The people will turn to you completely to lead them."
Rilian nodded. "I understand."
"One more thing, Rilian." Peter said. He reached to his side and pulled up a leather bound book. "These stories that were told to you, and the people, someone will need to tell them when I'm gone. Since you are King, I trust you won't let the past vanish."
Rilian looked at the book in his uncle's hand. He slowly took the book from him and opened it. The first pages were of Lucy's first visit to Narnia. He thumbed through the pages, recognizing the stories that had been told to him as a child. Stories of his mother, his uncles, his aunt, and his father. Everything that Narnia was based on, was in his hands.
"The past of Narnia and the future of Narnia, are in your hands, King Rilian." Peter said.
