A/N: We come to it at last…the final passage in Ironic Synchronicity: First of the 'Trilogy of Faith', as I've decided to call them. That may change, however. As ever, I would like to thank my fantastic reviewers for all their help and support in getting this far.

I can't quite believe it; it's nearly the end! (cries)

The poem interwoven into one of the scenes is one I wrote myself; I'm actually quite proud of it. It is basically Aslan speaking to Cifel, or any of his children. Don't steal! Ask me if you want to copy it or something … (unlikely, but still…just making sure).

This chapter jumps forward in time as it goes. Any time change will be stated at the top of each new time zone. Any other sections will be in the same time zone from the last designated date.

Special features will be up shortly!

Epilogue: Part One

Aslan felt a weary, fulfilling sense of inner peace as the sun set over the glistening eastern sea. From the far off tiers of Cair Paravel, the fading repertoire of joyous music had lulled itself into a quiet, peaceful tone. The sand beneath his paws held the lingering warmth of the long day, and the sound of their footsteps upon it was soothing to his aching ears.

It had been a wonderful sight; to see the four thrones upon the cold dais filled at long last. But even more rewarding was the beaming faces of all of his children, welcoming their new monarchs with revering awe.

Little child, cry away

Why are you alone today?

Behind those bars

Of gilded white

Will you cry again, tonight?

It had been a truly magnificent spectacle, followed by vigorous dancing and enthusiastic merrymaking. Aslan had watched in fond amusement as all four of the new monarchs had eagerly endeavoured (some succeeding faster than others) to join in the dancing with determination. After many hours of exhausting routine, the new High King had most courteously bid his guests a farewell, and herded three reluctant siblings off to bed.

Strange that even as the newly crowned King's and Queen's of Narnia, they still maintained a youthful quality which made their faces shine with radiance.

Little child, shedding tears

Why have you so many fears?

You cannot always

Stay deep inside

Will you flee again, to hide?

Yes, a joyous day indeed.

"I still can't believe you made me crown the brat, Aslan."

Came the soft, still slightly indignant tone from his side. The lion chuckled, the wind tossing his golden mane into a frenzied dance about his head as he turned to look at his companion.

"I could see the pride in your eyes, Lucifel, my child. You know it is futile to attempt to deceive me."

"Well, it was worth a try, at least…"

Cifel muttered quietly to himself, and Aslan paused in their slow, drowsy march to glance up at the guardian with a gentle gaze. Cifel's emerald eyes met his own, and he frowned reproachfully.

Little child, close your eyes

Why can you not see the lies?

A beaten heart

A broken scream

Will you sleep now, and dream?

"What do you want me to say? You were right, as usual, O wisest high and mighty of the mightiest. You're unending wisdom is beginning to become aggravating, old friend."

Aslan laughed softly, batting Cifel's side as a father reprimands a child, but a twinkle of mischief shone in his eyes. Cifel rubbed the offended torso indignantly, and his face grew suddenly solemn as his gaze lingered upon the eastern horizon.

Little child, sorrow bound

Why can you not make a sound?

Your sightless eyes

Will never see

Will you fight on still, for me?

"Must you leave, so soon?"

Aslan sighed a long, wispy breath, and felt sorrow once again fill his heart. It seemed things had come around full circle, as they seemed to always do. But at least he could leave in the sure knowledge that all was well within the land dearest to his heart.

"Oh, little one. You have lived so long, and yet still find the courage to question the workings of time?"

Little child, of mirthless joy

Why adhere to my employ?

I choke on breath

Heart yet breaking

Will it be yours, for taking?

Cifel smiled half heartedly; gaze still fixed upon the fading face of the sun, just slipping down below the glistening surface of the clear waters.

"Though I have learned so much…I fell as though there is yet more I should have achieved. Is it…right? This feeling of inadequacy?"

Aslan sighed.

"Child, even I feel doomed to search forevermore for some higher purpose, some form of destinies end. Have patience, dear one. Our time shall come."

Aslan blinked in surprise as Cifel abruptly turned to face him and leant against the lion's head, hands fisting in his soft mane. The guardian hid his face in Aslan's fur as he murmured somewhat thickly:

"I've missed you so; promise me you shall return. Sooner than a few hundred ages, please?"

Little child, rise above

Why fly high on, for love?

The dark leaves dawn

The shadow yet lingers

Freedom rears, at the tips of your fingers.

Aslan chuckled, feeling sadness fill his chest even as joy flooded against the tide. There was no telling where the wind would send him; to the south, to the east? Even he knew not when he would return.

"Lucifel; even when I am gone, I shall not have left you. You know that I will always be there."

Cifel nodded, drawing back with a slight flush of embarrassment to his pale cheeks. Aslan clucked his tongue at him fondly, and briefly nuzzled his side, ignoring the half-hearted protests which ensued as a result.

"Do not fear, Lucifel, for there is nothing to be afraid of. You will find your strength, and know your place, when the time comes."

Cifel opened his mouth to speak, but jumped as a far off voice rose above the whispering of the wind.

"Cifel!"

The guardian turned, to look up at a far off window set within the walls of Cair Paravel. The small, night robe clad figure of the youngest Queen of Narnia leant out, waving frenziedly as her hair tossed in the dying sea breeze, grinning.

He grinned, and raised a hand in greeting as her smile widened, and she withdrew with one last enthusiastic cry of farewell.

His smile faltering, Cifel turned.

Only to find he now stood alone; and his face fell as the sun slipped over the rim of the horizon, and the world grew colder about him.

And then he smiled.

Little child, my dying light

Will flicker and burn out tonight

Be safe, my one

Live on, my only

You no longer need fear to be lonely.

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The Golden Age: The Third Year of the Glorious Reign of Peter, High King over the Great Realm of Narnia.

It was really quite a common occurrence within the walls of Cair Paravel to hear raised voices; one might even call it a vital part of daily life. Voices raised in laughter, voices raised in praising song, voices raised in mere eager excitement.

It was most unorthodox, however, to hear any of the four rulers of the realm raising their own voices, but even more unheard of was if it were to be directed towards one another.

And, incidentally, this was precisely what was happening, on a somewhat breezy afternoon in mid-winter.

"Now listen here, Edmund! Just who is High King? I-"

"Don't give me this 'High King' poppycock, I'm your brother! And I am ordering you, as your little brother, to lay down, now."

There was a muffled commotion and a yelp of surprise, and two dwarfs which had been on their way to the royal chambers to consult their royal majesties suddenly thought better of it; and promptly turned back to hurry down the corridor.

"Ed, I'm fine. It was just a little tumble, that's-"

" 'Little tumble' my tapping regal foot! You fell off a horse, Peter. Your horse. And might I add that Dorian has already testified that it was through no fault of his own."

There was a rustle of shifting clothing, a hiss of pain, then an ominous silence.

"Peter, what do you expect me to do? Just sit by idly while you work yourself into an early grave?"

An uncomfortable pause.

"It's not that serious. I just stay up slightly later than usual, that's all."

The younger monarch folded his arms, directing the infamous 'disagree with me and face the dire consequences' glare towards his elder sibling, who winced. It had been a tactic often used by their mother, and to great effect.

"Oh yes? And how, pray tell, is sitting up all hours of the night doing paperwork 'slightly later than usual'?"

"You've been spying on me?"

"Don't change the subject!"

Edmund gave an exasperated sigh, and sat down beside his brother on the bed, eying the rather ugly bruise with a concerned scowl. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, before opening them to pull his brother's tunic back down and gently manoeuvred Peter until he was lying on his back.

Peter glared furiously up at him, but the effect was rather broken by the stifled yawn which betrayed him. Edmund raised a delicate eyebrow as Peter lowered his gaze, looking slightly sheepish.

"Well…I suppose a little rest wouldn't hurt. But just to appease you, dearest, darlingest little brother of mine."

Edmund gritted his teeth, and abruptly tugged the discarded blanket at the bottom of the bed up to rest over his brother's chest. There was a short pause as Edmund drew back and leant against the bedpost, drawing one knee to his chest, and looked at his brother expectantly.

"You're not going to move, are you?"

"No."

"You're going to stay here all night."

"Yes."

"Till morning."

"Yes."

"You realise there's still three hours of deeds from the northern borders to get through?"

Edmund frowned, silently cursing the wretched things as he eyed the dark smudges which marred his brother's cheeks, and his pale, slightly sickly looking appearance.

"Go to sleep, Peter."

He murmured, not able to resist a small smile as Peter stifled another yawn and struggled to keep his eyes open, drowsily staring up at the blue, flower speckled canopy above him.

Just as he thought his brother had finally drifted off, a small voice broke the calm peace of the mid-afternoon.

"Thanks…Ed…"

And Edmund could only sigh, shaking his head in fond exasperation. He leant down, and dropped a fleeting kiss to his brother's forehead, brushing flimsy strands of gold from his peaceful face with a tender smile.

The northern border could wait.

For now, Edmund had more important things to deal with.

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The soft pitter-patter of hasty feet filled the silent corridors of the palace, as Lucy Pevensie hurried towards the northern wing. Neither Peter nor Edmund had been down for dinner the previous evening, and a servant girl had informed her that they hadn't been seen since early that afternoon.

As soon as they were up and dressed, Susan had hurried to the library, hoping to find them poring over some deed or another. There had been a lot of paperwork from the borders recently, reports and requests for orders from the forces stationed there.

Lucy thought it all sounded terribly dull, personally.

She knew better of her brother's, however. Edmund, especially, had been very reluctant to allow Peter to take all the work himself and, if they had been in the library at dinnertime, the younger Pevensie would not have allowed either of them to stay up all hours of the night.

So therefore, there was only place they could possibly be.

She skidded to a halt beside the normally bolted door to Peter's bedchamber, and grinned as she found it ajar. Evidently her theory was, indeed, correct.

And she was not disappointed as she eased it open, started, and tip toed forwards with a curious grin on her face. She crept over to stand above the bed, looking down at the two boys now curled up together, fast asleep, and breathing softly.

"Lucy? I…oh."

Susan lowered her voice as Lucy put a finger to her lips, and jerked her head towards the bed. Susan, eyes dancing with mirth, moved quietly forwards to stand beside her sister. They shared a fond glance, as Susan wrapped an arm around Lucy's shoulders as they moved to carefully sit down beside their brothers.

And then, the matress squeaked under their weight.

Edmund shot upwards with a frenzied gasp, while Peter groaned, throwing a groggy hand over his face as the light which Edmund had previously been blocking spilled over his face.

Susan gave a slight curse, then joined her younger sister in snickering quietly as they watched their brother's wake up; albeit rather slowly.

"Mm…Su? Lu…?"

Peter managed to grate out, rubbing his eyes vigorously and wincing at the bright morning sunshine, while Edmund struggled to disentangle himself from the mess of sheets he had trapped himself in.

Lucy reached over to help him, while Susan, still laughing quietly to herself, aided her older brother and levered him up to a sitting position.

"What…are you…mmmph, Lucy! Doing here?"

Edmund managed through a mouthful of bedcover as his little sister pulled it over his head. Peter and Susan shared an amused glance and turned away in order to hide their smiles.

"Well, sleepyheads, now that you're finally up. How about an early morning ride?"

Susan suggested, before tutting and reaching over in order to attempt to force Edmund's hair (which was sticking up at an odd angle) to lie flat. He ducked away, but seemed to consider this proposal.

"Well…I will. Not Peter, though."

Peter sat up straighter.

"Hey, who says I can't? I was under the impression-"

"-well, you were 'impressioned' wrong. Because you're staying in bed today."

Peter gaped as he was abruptly cut off, and frowned at Edmund furiously, but the younger refused to be moved. They stared each other down, as Susan and Lucy watched in tense anticipation for the impending explosion.

It was broken as Peter's face fell comically, and Edmund started.

"Oh go on, Ed! Just a breath of fresh air? Please?"

Edmund choked as Peter's face grew angelically innocent, but folded his arms resolutely and stood his ground.

"No, absolutely not. You need to rest, and I-"

Edmund broke off, as he saw Peter's hopeful smile fall dramatically in an uncanny resemblance to Lucy. His eyes filled with disappointment, and Edmund stiffened.

"Oh no, you're not…don't…stop it!"

But, alas, it was already too late for poor Edmund; for Peter's china blue eyes had widened to their fullest extent and gazed imploringly up at his brother with a petulant, but silent plea.

"Peter, I'm warning you…don't look at me like that…"

Edmund felt his heart sink as Peter's face reverted to the very picture of naïve confusion, his lower lip jutting out in the slightest hint of a pout.

Edmund could feel his iron resolve creaking under the pressure, and his heart sank further still.

"I said NO!"

His brother's face fell in seeming disappointed hurt, and he slowly lowered his gaze dolefully, letting out a quiet, utterly melancholy sniffle.

Edmund couldn't take it any longer.

"Alright FINE! But only for-HEY!"

For Peter's expression had lit up and he had leapt off the bed and to his feet in seconds, and tore out of the room at breakneck speed as Lucy doubled over with laughter at the expression on Edmund's face.

Ah yes, the infamous 'kicked puppy' technique. It had been passed down their father's baby blue eyed ancestors for generations, and had caused both Susan and Edmund many a defeat, for Lucy had also mastered it long ago.

After recovering from shock, Edmund growled and gritted his teeth, also leaping to his feet and dashing off in hot pursuit of his wayward brother.

And the race was on.

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A/N: Okay, so the stupid connection refused to let me upload the epilogue in one shift because it was too long. Thus, it is now in two sections.

Happy reading!