Epilogue: Aslan's Country

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The Naiad Trilogy

Part 3: The Naiad Queen

Epilogue: Aslan's Country

She sat on the gentle grass in a circle with her friends. The sun was bright, the breeze soft, and there was laughter in the air. It was a perfect day; just like all the others. She and her friends did nothing in particular but enjoy the company of everyone around them. Suddenly, He appeared among them. They didn't hear His approach; they never did. His steps were soundless. Nor could they hear His calming purr until they listened for it. She only knew He was there because she felt Him. One could always feel His presence before they saw His body.

She turned her head from her friends and smiled at the loving Lion.

"It is time, child," He said. If her smile could have grown it would have. "Walk with me."

"Always," she replied.

She stood and waved goodbye to her friends, though she knew she would see them again soon. The Lion began walking and she walked alongside Him with her hand in His mane. They did not speak; they didn't need to. She knew what was coming. Though, she could not feel sad even if she wanted to. Sadness was a thing of the past, a memory forgotten.

As they walked the scenery around them changed effortlessly. Where once there had been an open glade, there was now a spacious cluster of trees. The music of the birds' song floated down to their ears; it was a song set on a background of great silence. The soft breeze that touched her cheek in the glade did not stir the leaves here. And though it was still pleasantly warm, the air was much crisper. They walked to the edge of the forest and before them was another open glade with a gentle running stream. They stopped just inside the forest.

"Wait here for our return," He said.

She nodded and removed her hand from His mane. Beside her there was a small boulder. It sat as though it were waiting for her specifically. She obliged with a smile and sat.

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She had no way of knowing how long she waited because time had no relevance there. She could have been sitting on that stone for a few days or a few years, or she could have only been sitting for a few hours or for less than a second. It made no difference to her. One moment the Lion was there, then He was gone, and then He was back.

When He returned though, He was not alone; there were two children with Him, one a Son of Adam and the other a Daughter of Eve. Both children were crying, and she was sure she knew why. When they arrived in that place they brought with them a song of great sorrow.

The children, being not of that place, cried easily. And the Lion, because He was the Lion, cried easily too. But though she tried she could not, for just as time had no relevance there, sorrow was no more. The children and the Lion stood by the stream and looked down into it; their tears splashed in the water below. If she could see what they saw in the stream, she would have seen an old King lying on the river bed. His eyes were closed as though he were sleeping, and his long white hair and beard danced in the gentle current. Though she was away from them, when they spoke she heard them as if she stood amongst them.

"Son of Adam," the Lion said. "Go into that thicket and pluck the thorn that you will find there, and bring it to me." The boy obeyed and when he returned the Lion lifted and spread His front right paw. "Drive it into my paw, Son of Adam."

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