Just so we're clear, I do have a plan for this story. I'm not just running in my last wheels.

Peter thought back to when he and his siblings had first stumbled into Narnia. Toward the beginning of their reign, Susan had begun to notice how much danger it really was to be a king or queen of this magical land. Peter and Edmund were constantly coming back with serious injuries. More than once, they had thought their time together cut short.

The distance between them was the worst part. Susan had explained that every night was she lying to bed, she was reminded of the distance. She never knew whether her brothers were well or not, and she felt so far from them. Peter knew the feeling; he often had felt that way when Edmund left on whatever new expedition he was set to accomplish.

It was Lucy who came up with the idea that every night, no matter where they were, all four of them would look to the sky and know that they were seeing the same stars.

I suppose we'll still be seeing the same stars; I'll just be seeing them from below and you'll be seeing them from above.

Looking back over Edmund's body, Peter couldn't help but cry.

"It should have been me, Aslan. Why wasn't it me?" Peter wept, bowing his head over his little brother's body.

"My Dear Peter."

Peter rose his head and turned around. "Aslan."

The Great Lion stood at the other side of the tent and looked tenderly into Peter's eyes. "Come to me, Child."

Peter looked at the Lion, then back to Edmund's still form. He didn't want to leave, but the Lion had called him. The High King rose to his feet and walked over to Aslan, falling to his knees before His great paws.

"Why did you leave your brother?" Aslan asked.

Peter rose his head. "I... I don't understand what you mean."

"Why did you leave your brother where he lays now? Why would you leave his side?"

"Because, Aslan, You called me to You."

The Great Lion's mouth turned up in a gentle smile. "And so you understand why Edmund could not stay. I had called him to me."

"But, Aslan, why? I... I had only just gotten him back. How could You take him again?" New tears started to sting Peter's eyes.

"Do you not know that nothing can be demanded of me? I do not bend the wills of my people. It was in my plan all along to call your brother to me." Alan's voice was stern, but gentle, nonetheless.

Peter knew that he should not be accusing of the Lion. Aslan was in control of all; He knew His plan and carried it out accordingly. He acts on His own and is not required to obey anyone, but His Father, the Emperor-Over-The-Sea; He is not a tame Lion, after all.

"I know." No matter how hard it was to say, Peter knew that he must. He knew it was true and knew that, inside, it was what he really believed. "I know, and... I trust You and Your plan." He said, casting his eyes down, once more. "I have never been a man of great faith."

"My Son, I know your heart; you have more faith than you believe you do. It took a lot of faith to obey me and watch your brother walk off into slavery. If he hadn't, you would not be here now."

"But if he hadn't, he would still be here." Peter shook his bowed head, slowly. "I... I would rather he be the one sitting here, rather than myself. Edmund deserves to be here, not me."

"And this pain in your heart, would you give that to your brother?"

Peter ran it through his mind. This pain he felt inside, it was unlike anything. It hurt more any wound Peter had ever suffered; he would take a million arrows to the chest to avoid feeling something like this. There was a certain emptiness to accompany; an emptiness that surpassed. It was like moving in slow motion while the world was cashing down around you; you may try your hardest, but you are helpless to save yourself from the fire that consumes all.

No. He couldn't wish this upon Edmund; not on his little brother. Death would be a kinder fate.

"I could never wish this upon my brother." Peter admitted at last.

"Look at me, Peter." Aslan's strong voice commanded.

Peter rose his head in obedience and gazed back into the Lion's kind eyes.

"Every creature has their time; even the Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve will lose their place in this life. You thought once, already, that you had lost your brother, and once you found that you were wrong, you lost him again. You have been so strong through it all."

"I... I don't feel strong. I feel like I've been falling apart for months now, and finally, after all that has happened, I've crumbled into dust. Can that so be considered strength?"

"My Dear Peter, it is not the way that you feel that makes you strong or weak; it is your persistence through all that you've been put through. While you may feel as though you have been breaking, I have been building you up and making you stronger."

"So, all of this," Peter thought back over the past months. "All that has happened is because you were building me up?"

"That is only one of the many great things that will come from this. While you may have thought that you were doing fine on your own, I have worked to change you, and make you the finest king that will ever sit on Narnia's throne."

"But, Aslan, I don't want that. I would give any of it up as long as Edmund was with me."

The Great Lion's eyes stared right into Peter. He was exploited and revealed. "Dear Peter, the king of such little faith, do you question my actions? Do you doubt my capabilities?"

PSELPSELPSELPSELPSELPSELPSELPSELPSELPSEL

Edmund gasped, sucking in all the air he could pull into his lungs. He opened his eyes and stared up into a canvas of blue stretch.

Pushing himself to elbows, then rising up to his knees, Edmund looked at the scenery around him. Everything was familiar - it looked to be a part of the Western Woods - but also very beautiful. He could spot various trees that he recognized and a far off steam that he knew well, but the trees were more full and the river more blue than he had ever known them to be before. It was almost like the Western Woods he knew was just a snapshot of the real and more beautiful thing.

Feeling the grass with his fingers, Edmund couldn't help but notice how much less it irritated his skin. The warm sun added a comforting heat to his skin - as though he had just sunk into a tub of warm water after trudging through the snow for an hour - but when the breeze blew, it sent soft, cool, refreshing feeling through him - as though his skin had been burning in the sun and someone splashed cold water on his face. But Edmund never felt the cold bite of trudging through the snow for an hour, and he never felt his skin burn under the rays of the sun.

Picking himself off the ground, Edmund tried to piece together the last bits of his memory before the darkness. He could recall bonds, he could recall wind stinging his face, he could recall falling, fighting, betrayal.

Betrayal

Horrible betrayal. Ziddim's betrayal.

What else? Edmund could remember battle, dodging bodies and swords at every turn. He remembered finding Peter; dear Peter. Peter saved him, but Peter was in trouble. Judas... Judas was raising his sword. Edmund had to stop him. He remembered diving.

Edmund could recall; he knew he had been stuck. After diving at Judas he had been stuck. He felt nothing, but he couldn't move.

Peter's soft grunt, the grunt that he made when he was in pain, but trying to hold it in; Edmund had known that grunt and knew that his brother had been in trouble.

Edmund didn't recall much about what happened next, but he could still recall pushing himself forcefully to his feet and finding Rhindon on the ground. He could recall Judas's face, that look of hatred turned to shock with only a few words from Edmund's own mouth.

He saw Judas fall, Rhindon buried in his chest. Did he do that?

He saw his own shaking hands. He saw Peter's face, blood and grime unable to hide the look of fright on his brother's face.

Pain

Oh, how he remembered the pain. So sudden and unrelenting. Edmund didn't recall how it had happened, but the next thing he remembered was lying on the ground, that same pain searing through his body, but now that Peter was over him, it seemed better.

Edmund remembered tears. There were so many tears. Sobs too. So much grief. Why?

Blue skies overhead. Freedom. If Edmund was free then why was there sadness?

"I'm free, now, Umed. I'm free."

The words rang in his head. Free?

Oh, Aslan, no. Please, no.

Edmund fumbled for the hem of his shirt.

There must be a wound. Please let there be a wound.

He finally got the front if his tunic lifted, revealing his pale, bare abdomen. No wound.

No, no, no, no.

Not only was there no wound, but there was not even a mark. His skin was perfectly clear of any impurities. It was all so wrong; Edmund had gathered many scars from his battles fought. There should have been a scar; his first scar. There should have been a scar from Beruna, when he fell at the White Witch's hand. But there was nothing.

Edmund began to search other parts of his body, hoping to find scars from his other past injuries.

"You won't find anything."

Edmund froze, not daring to turn around. "Zebah?"

"Hello, Umed."

This time, Edmund turned. Sure enough, Zebah was there. He approached Edmund from the trees and stopped just short of two feet away from him.

Zebah smiled at him, white teeth beaming in the sunlight. He looked so different from the thin, battered boy Edmund had met all those months ago. Zebah had been so joyful then, but his eyes gleemed ever brighter now.

"I told you I was free." His grin widened - if that was even possible.

Edmund couldn't find it in him to smile back. "So, it's true, then. I'm dead."

Zebah's smile faded. "I'm afraid so."

"Then, this is Aslan's Country?"

Edmund's friend shook his head. "No, but it's close."

"Then, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in Aslan's Country?"

"I was." Zebah stated simply. "But Aslan sent me here."

Edmund gave a curious look. "Why? Why couldn't He come, Himself?"

"Because He was busy. He sent me here to guide you."

Aslan too busy to show one of His chosen kings home? It hurt, but Edmund knew that if the Great Lion wasn't here, He must have something more important to attend to.

"Shall we be off?"

Zebah's cheerful voice brought Edmund back from his thoughts. He smiled sadly, and set into a walk after his friend.