We are back! Back in the land that has called us its rulers. But it is changed, so very changed, and my heart grieves for the pain my dearest country has suffered. At the same time, I rejoice to be back. Once again I can see the beauty of Aslan's gift reflected in myself and my siblings.

Peter and I reflect the golden glory of the Lion's mane. Magnificent Peter gleams from his golden head to his shining boots. He is the sun, bursting forth from a brilliant blue sky. My own light is not as showy, coming from deep inside of me, as an inviting fire on a dark winter night. While my own part is not as dramatic as my siblings, I am the constant. My light does not go out or dim, but burns merrily, providing hope in all times.

Edmund and Susan mirror the calm depths of Aslan's eyes. Edmund is the moon to Peter's sun, what many have called the 'dark side' of Narnia. But all darkness was purged from him when the Witch fell. Susan. My dearest sister was the starry sky, rich black velvet strewn with glittering gems. Her stars have dimmed of late, though, and even the renewed radiance of Narnia can call only a portion of them back into fullness.

Peter is our leader, as he has always been, the sun leading a path across the sky. Edmund follows him, his own beauty only fully revealed in Peter's shadow. Susan comes alongside, providing her exquisite backdrop to our tapestry. And I am the one who calls them home, tethers them to the land that formed us and gave us our purpose. I remain to direct the glory of my siblings to the Lion who gave us the ability to fly.