March Mini Contest
– March 2024
Contest Theme: Narnia
Short stories inspired by The Chronicles of Narnia.
Because we were so impressed with the wide variety of entries (and because it’s Narnia), we’ve chosen to feature a larger number of stories than normal.
Read on for some incredible Narnian fanfiction!
Jehova, Son of Aslan
© Mara Scott – Age 10, United States
The earliest memory of my life was my father, Aslan, the Great Lion, saying my name. “Jehova,” he called me. I remember having a brother named Ma’on and a sister named Immanuel. My father used to tell me stories of his life and all the people he met: like the Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve from the world of Spare Oom, or of how different humans found themselves traveling between worlds, or of how a son of Adam became a dragon, and Father helped him turn into a human again. All three of us would listen intently to these crazy adventures.
“Are these stories true, Father?” Immanuel asked.
“Yes, my child,” Father replied. “I wouldn’t make up fake stories, would I?”
“Could we do something like you did one day?” Ma’on questioned.
“Yes, all of you can do great things. Perhaps one day you will meet Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve, too. There haven’t been many coming to Narnia recently, but I am sure they will one day.”
And one day they did.
A few years later, I was stretched out on a rock, sleeping peacefully. Then, all of a sudden, a Faun rushed up to me, crying, “Jehova! Jehova! We have spotted Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve near the lamppost. This is the first time in years that humans have come. Oh, Jehova, you must come and see!”
I followed the young Faun through the trees, wondering if these were the Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve from Father’s stories. Could they be Lucy, Peter, Susan, and Edmund from Spare Oom? Or could they be Digory and Polly, who were the first humans to venture to Narnia? But as we came to the lamppost, I saw that the only two humans standing there were not any Sons of Adam or Daughters of Eve I had heard of before. One of them was a boy with black hair and a confused look in his ocean-blue eyes. The other was a girl with long brown hair and dark green eyes that shined like emeralds. The Faun had already met them, and he told me their names.
“This is Charlie, and this is Madison,” the Faun said, gesturing to the humans.
“Oh, my father needs to see this!” I said, my tail wagging with excitement. “Where is he?”
The Faun looked around. He was checking to make sure no one was listening, because you could never trust Dryads to mind their own business. Then he said, “Aslan is across the Eastern Sea, Jehova. The Emperor-Over-The-Sea needed him.”
My tail stopped wagging, and my eyes lost their shine.
“But Father must see the son of Adam and daughter of Eve!” I cried. “We have not seen any for many moons.”
“Um, excuse me, Mr, uh, Faun,” Charlie began, walking over to the Faun.
“The name is Minnis,” said the Faun with a huff.
“Minnis,” Charlie continued. “I am all very confused with how we got here. You see, there was this wardrobe…”
“Oh, the city of War Drobe from the country of Spare Oom?” Minnis asked.
“Well, it was a spare room,” Madison said, walking up beside Charlie. “But it wasn’t a country, it was a room.”
“Do you, daughter of Eve, have any idea who Lucy, Peter, Susan, and Edmund are?” I asked, my curiosity growing.
“Do you mean Mother?” Madison asked. “And Uncle Peter and Uncle Edmund and Aunt Susan? Lucy is our mom.”
My eyes grew wide and I shook my mane with excitement. Descendants of the four children that were once Kings and Queens in Narnia!
“Madison and Charlie, you are Princess and Prince of Narnia. Immanuel and Ma’on have to see this! Minnis, go tell them the news. In fact, tell everyone the news. These two humans are royalty!”
Minnis ran off, his hooves clattering on the ground.
“Wait, so I’m a prince?” Charlie asked, surprised.
“Yes,” I replied. “You two are the descendants of King Peter, King Edmund, Queen Susan, and Queen Lucy, who reined here long ago.”
“Mother was a queen?!” Madison exclaimed.
“So, how do we get back to our world exactly?” Charlie asked.
“Just go back the way you came, but stay here as long as you want. My father, Aslan, the Great Lion, has told me that your world freezes when you come to Narnia. No matter how long you stay here, when you get back, it will be the exact same time from when you left,” I said.
“In that case,” Charlie said, “I think we could stay here for a little while.”
“Father will be very happy to see you two,” I said. “But until he comes back, welcome to Narnia, Princess Madison and Prince Charlie!”
The Lion of Light
© Brynn Sibley – Age 12, United States
I adjust my grip on the wheelbarrow’s handles and push forward, grunting with effort as the stubborn wooden wheels refuse to budge. I wish I could sweat, but it is too cold. Every direction I look in is pure white, with mystical wind carrying shimmering snowflakes around. The icy air pierces my bare, red and swollen knuckles and pinches my cheeks. But I’ve become used to the winter, every creature in Narnia has. However, we will never lose our hope for a thaw.
Finally the wheelbarrow gives in and rolls over the deep cloudy snow with much struggle. Now I’m moving at a slow but steady pace, steering the firewood back to the log cabin.
I catch sight of it, brown against the glowing white. I let out a relieved sigh as I notice the thick plumes of smoke wafting from the chimney that peeks out from the mounds of snow piled on the roof. I couldn’t feel the heat of the fire yet, but still my body filled with warmth at the idea of it waiting for me.
At last I reach the cabin and scoop up the armful of branches and cut logs from my wheelbarrow. I balance them in one arm as I open the frozen doorknob and enter, shutting the door with my foot.
“Off with your boots, dear,” Hildie called from where she was knitting a blanket by the fire.
Hildie was an elderly ferret with coarse fur in a cinnamon color. She had silver spectacles that balanced on her brown nose. Gray fur covered her muzzle and eyes as proof that she was growing old, her whiskers were gnarled. She had a rather hunched posture, but could raise up to an impressive height when she was angry, which wasn’t often. Hildie had taken me in when I was a very young child. Though much smaller than me, she had always seemed so much larger. She was my world.
I take off my boots and coat by the door and set the firewood down before going to the flames in the hearth. I exhale as my body is warmed completely, take off my knitted hat and stretch out on the creaky wooden floor in exhaustion.
My eyelids flutter closed and I find my thoughts carrying me up and away into a dream.
*
I was standing in a blizzard, but I was not chilled.
The wind swirled around me, blocking the gray sky. But still, the familiar glow of the moon— a crystal orb in the air, acted as my guide. I moved forward, gliding across the snow. In my hand dangled a lantern that illuminated the ground beneath me, casting an auburn glow on my feet. My legs walked in a smooth motion, leaved a trail in the snow. I glanced behind me to see if I could retrace my footsteps if I got lost, but as soon as they were there the storm swept them away. I turned back to follow the moon, but where it had hung the sky was empty. I gazed around but it was gone. Where had my sweet moon gone?
I was truly lost.
I fell to my knees and my lantern shattered on the ground. The only light I had left was extinguished, plunging me into darkness.
Finally, I felt the cold.
I was being lifted up out of my dark, cold hole. I could not see the hands that held me, but they were strong and calloused. I let them take me, and felt myself relax. My eyes closed. When they opened, I was nearly blinded by the warmth of the sun. As I blinked and my eyes focused, my savior came into view.
Glowing with pure, golden light was a lion.
He radiated with love and strength and I fell into him.
The thaw was here. Winter had melted away to reveal lush pastures, rolling hills, luminous trees and shimmering sunlight. Deer galloped through the grassland, and the forest was alive with creatures. I was running— Running through the fields, whooping for joy. The lion had overcome the White Witch— The Winter was over at last!
The animals of the day sang joyfully, their melodies reaching the clouds.
“Thanks be to Aslan! For the good lion has sent away the evil and saved the land!”
*
I woke up. I was still laying by the fire with the thick blanket Hildie had been knitting, and the kindly ferret was curled up in her rocking chair. It had been a dream. All of it. I got up silently and crossed the room to the window and parted the curtains. The window was frosty and freezing to the touch.
I sighed, looking away. Winter was still here, raging outside and as dreadful as ever.
But someday, the fearsome lion would come to chase away the cold.
The end!!
Beyond the Southern Mountains
© Talitha Borstad – Age 12, United States
“You can’t come with me, Arriene. It could be very dangerous.” Thelmor tried to make his voice as firm as possible.
His little sister glowered. “It’s not fair. Kalian can rule here, and you can rule in Archenland, but what can I do? Stay here making tapestries?”
“Nonsense,” said Thelmor. “You do plenty of things. You even get sword lessons! Mother says in the world she and Father came from such a thing would never be allowed.”
Thelmor was the second son of King Frank and Queen Helen of Narnia. On his eighteenth birthday two months ago, it had been announced he would lead a party of Narnians over the Southern Mountains into Archenland, to settle it. Thelmor was quite nervous about the whole venture, though excited. Arriene, his thirteen-year-old sister, was furious.
“There might be monsters,” she complained. “Certainly rivers, cliffs, and adventures! And I shall miss them all. By the time I visit you it will be tame and boring.”
“It’s a shame there isn’t a third country for Arriene,” laughed Kalian, their older brother. “No one would ever risk attacking it. Anyway, we should get to the courtyard. It’s almost time for Thelmor to leave.”
The three siblings walked to the courtyard, where the traveling party was being assembled.
Queen Helen handed Thelmor his traveling pack. “Be careful,” she told him. “Don’t forget to send word if you need anything. That’s why an eagle is coming, you know.”
“I’ll be careful,” promised Thelmor, hugging his family goodbye.
“We’ll have you come visit,” he assured Arriene. “You’ll see Archenland soon.”
Arriene had a slightly distant look in her eye. “I’m sure I will.”
…….
They traveled two days over the Narnian marches, finding a pass through the Southern Mountains on the third day. That night, they made camp in a small valley at the base of the mountains. Exhausted, Thelmor fell asleep quickly.
He woke at dawn. Leaving the camp, he hiked through the wild beauty of Archenland, admiring the flowers and birdsongs.
Coming to the base of a cliff, he noticed a dark cave in the rock. A long, rough hisssss echoed from within it. Thelmor drew his sword. He was not a moment too soon.
From the cave slithered an enormous serpent. It was covered in dull black scales, with glinting red eyes and dagger-like fangs.
“What pitiful princeling comes here?” it spat. “This is my kingdom and mine alone!”
“No, it is not,” returned Thelmor sharply. “It belongs to a higher power than any mortal possesses. My family was commanded by that power to settle it. Who told you it was yours?”
“The Queen of this world!” hissed the beast. “A tall, beautiful lady came to me, promising me wealth and power beyond imagining, if I defeated all who came to this country!”
The Witch. The first Evil in Narnia. Of course she would interfere with the settling of Archenland. Thelmor gritted his teeth.
“She was not authorized to make such bribes,” he told the serpent. “And if you do not relinquish your ‘kingdom,’ I shall be forced to take it from you.”
The beast hissed again and lunged. Thelmor stood his ground and swung his sword. He took a chunk of scales off the serpent’s nose, which only further enraged it. It tried to bite off Thelmor’s head. The young man darted back just in time.
The serpent lunged again. Thelmor knew he could not outrun it. Then he heard footsteps running up behind him. Another sword swished through the air, though it did even less damage than his weapon had. Out of the corner of his eye, Thelmor saw a young girl with long dark hair.
“Arriene!” he yelled. “What are you doing here?”
“I followed you. I said there would be adventures and I was right. I suppose I just didn’t expect them to be so…dangerous.”
Thelmor groaned. There was no way he could save either of them. They were doomed. Already the serpent was lunging for Arriene.
Then a great ROAR echoed down the cliff. At its top stood an enormous lion, the morning light dim in comparison with his golden coat.
The serpent twisted around and shot into its cave. An avalanche of rocks, loosened by the lion’s roar, fell down the cliff and blocked the cave’s mouth. In one glorious bound, the lion leaped down the cliff.
“He will trouble you no more,” said the lion. “Thelmor, king of Archenland, rule wisely and well. You have not looked for glory, and so it will be given to you. Arriene, princess of Narnia, your courage serves you well. But do not always be straying from home, for the duties of a princess should not be neglected.”
Then the lion bounded away, and for hours after, all the hills shone.
Ramandu’s Return to a Star
© Freddie Chesswas – Age 12, New Zealand
Ramandu was nearly as old as the earth, and had seen many happenings. He had once been a star, and been so high up above the world means he could see nearly everything from above.
He had seen the White Witch slain. He had seen Shasta and Breehy-hinny-brinny-hoohy-hah make it to Archenland, and Shasta find out his real name, Cor.* But, somewhere in between Shasta and Caspian, he had run out of brightness, and Aslan had escorted him down to the earth. He had married and had a daughter. His wife had died of a heart attack soon after she had the daughter. So Ramandu had to raise her all by himself.
And now she was gone. She had left with Caspian to the far-off land of Narnia ( read Voyage of the Dawn Treader), but Revilian (one of the lords who had grown long hair) had stayed with him to keep him company. And Revilian was at an impressive age of ninety-eight when it happened.
Ramandu woke up one morning. He had started to become more bright and energetic, and knew his time to return to his career of a star would soon be his.
It was not known to him, but it was to happen that very day.
He spun around to Revilian’s door and kicked it open. “Breakfast time!!’’ he cried as he went into Revilian’s room.
Revilian woke up to see Ramandu’s bright face above his. Ramandu’s wrinkles on his face were nearly all gone.
“Hop up, and come, before the birds eat all the food!’’ he said.
Revilian kicked off his pyjamas and pulled on some clothes. He left the room, leaning heavily on a cane.
He sat down at the table. Ramandu blessed the food, and Revilian ate. Ramndu sat up in the chair, and watched him.
When Revilian was finished, the birds came and ate all the food. One popped a fireberry into Ramandu’s mouth.
Then it happened. The last wrinkle left Ramandu’s face, and it started to shine brightly.
Revilian leapt up, then fell over. He didn’t have his cane, but he didn’t care. He watched from the floor as Ramandu yelled “It’s happening! It’s happening!’’
Revilian didn’t have to think hard to know what was happening. He had noticed the changes in Ramandu over the years. He was way more energetic and excitable then he had been when Revilian had woken up from his sleep. He knew he was finally becoming a star again.
“Way to go, Ramandu!’’ yelled Revilian. And it was a way to go. What more spectacular way to go than being changed back into a star?
Ramandu was elevated into the air. His whole body started to shine brightly. Then a lion walked into the room.
Revilian was scared, but he knew who the lion was. It was Aslan.
“Are you ready to go back among the stars?’’ boomed the lion.
“Yes! Yes, I am!’’ called down Ramandu.
“You promise never to come down from the sky to the humans until you have run out of light?’’ bellowed the lion.
“Of course!’’ yelled Ramandu.
“You promise never to cause havoc among the stars, to knock them out of the sky or disrupt the constellations?’’
“Yes! Yes, I do!’’ said Ramandu, his voice high pitched with excitement he hadn’t known for hundreds of years.
“Then you are ready to go!’’ roared the lion.
Ramandu zoomed out of the place like a rocket. Revilian pulled himself up. He grabbed his cane and hobbled out the front door.
“Woohoo!’’ yelled Ramandu as he whistled up into the air.
Revilian watched him go up until he looked just like the other stars. When he looked back, the lion was watching him.
“You have done well,’’ rumbled Aslan. “Hop on my back.’’
Revilian, with no hesitation, got onto Aslan’s back as fast as he could. The lion stomped his foot, and they landed in a beautiful country. The trees looked perfect, oranges and watermelons were everywhere, and the sea looked amazing!
“Welcome,’’ said the lion, “to my country.’’
Lucy’s Return
© Bella Wapp – Age 14, New Zealand
I was reading an article in the news about a new hunger games movie when Susan came running up to me. If you have heard my story before you will know plenty about my sister Susan. Sadly she is no longer with us and Susan is the name of one of my granddaughters.
“Grandma, will you play hide and seek with us?” She pleaded. I hadn’t played since I was a little kid. I could barely get out of my chair without help. “Oh please,” She said.
“Alright dear, but only if I get to hide first.” She giggled and started counting. I walked as quickly as I could to my room. I searched my brain thinking of where I could hide. I turned around and saw my old wardrobe. Just like old times I thought and hopped in. As I slowly reached the back of my wardrobe I saw clothes that I had never worn before in my life. I laughed not knowing why I had bought these hideous clothes. I was waiting for myself to hit the back of the wardrobe, but I didn’t. All I felt was something prickly. I turned and saw a forest in my wardrobe! Oh it couldn’t be I thought. It’s Narnia!
As I ran closer to the forest I got the strangest feeling. As if a clock was rewinding. I looked down and my hands and all the wrinkles were gone. I had shrunk closer to the ground as well. Oh, I was young again. I ran to see if the lamppost was in the same spot and it was there! But that’s not the only thing. There was a boy with a sword, a girl with a bow and a boy with hair for midnight. I almost didn’t recognize them.
“Peter! Susan! Edmund!” I ran up and gave them the biggest hug. But they looked sad.
“You have to go back,” Peter said. “It’s not your time yet.”
“What on earth do you mean Peter? I belong here in Narnia and I haven’t seen all of you in so many years.”
“I know young one” said a voice so calming it filled me with warmth. I turned around to see Aslan. “But you still have time left. You have not even said goodbye.”
“Who do I need to say goodbye to?”
“Your Children and grandkids.” Susan said lowering herself so she could look me in the eye.
“But I don’t want to go,” I pleaded. “I am old and horrible in that world. I want to stay here.”
“Calm down Lu.” Edmund said. “You will see us again. There are people who need you more.” I turned back to Aslan with tears in my eyes.
“I have just missed you all so much.”
“I know.” He said. “I promise when you come back you will be Queen Lucy the Valiant.”
“All hail Queen Lucy!” My siblings shouted.
“Remember once a king or queen or Narnia, always a king or queen of Narnia.” Everyone gave me the biggest hug.
“See you soon Lucy,” Peter said. I walked back to the wardrobe as I did and my hands got more wrinkly. My shoulders felt heavier. I turned once more to see if the forest was still there. It was not. Before I could get too sad the door opened.
“Found you!” Susan said, pleased with herself. “Why do you look so sad?” She asked.
“I was wondering If I could tell you a story.” She nodded her head quickly and jumped on to my bed. I sat beside her. “Once there were four children whose names were Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy.”
The End
The Consequences of Jam
© Abbigail Aitken – Age 14, New Zealand
Lulu Beaver waddled through tall grass, sniffing for the sweet smell of ripe blackberries on the summer breeze. Nothing. She sighed. She only wanted a single jar of jam. Suddenly, a new smell wafted towards her. Old wood, and something else. Something she’d only heard in Father’s stories about the Kings and Queens of Cair Paravel, from the mysterious land of Spare-Oom.
Intrigued, Lulu poked her way through bending ferns and wiry clumps of heather until she stumbled into a clearing. At the very heart of the glade stood an old lamppost. An enchanting glow emanated from its glass top, but she sniffed her way towards a thin stream of light that filtered through the trees ahead. Lulu pushed her way through prickly pine branches, then recoiled as something soft and heavy brushed against her head. Looking up, she saw a canopy of fur. Fur… coats. Father had told her of these. Humanoid creatures wore them to keep out the cold. Strange. Then again, so were the creatures that wore them.
Lulu cautiously nudged her way through and soon felt smooth wood under her feet. Her head banged against something solid and she yelped as she fell onto a cold, hard surface. Shaking herself, Lulu got to her feet.
Somehow, she’d ended up in a room three times as big as any beaver’s dam she’d ever seen. Behind her were massive doors with beautiful engravings of flowers, vines, rabbits, birds and centaurs. Instantly, Lulu knew where she was. This was the wardrobe that had enabled the Kings and Queens of Old to enter her world from theirs.
Lulu Beaver was in the mysterious land of Spare-Oom.
Loud footsteps sounded in the corridor. Before Lulu could react, the door slammed open, and a human stood there. A female with grey hair and glasses.
“How did you get in here?” the woman growled and seized Lulu. She marched down a flight of stairs, then threw Lulu out the front door.
Lulu landed hard and rolled to a stop near a pile of dead leaves. Jumping up, she turned to scold the woman, but she’d left. Just like that. Rude housekeeper.
Determined to get home, Lulu searched for a way back inside the house. Spotting an oak tree by a partially open second-story window, she scrambled up the trunk and squeezed through the gap. Lulu landed with a thump on a woven rug. A startled shout came from a high-backed chair in the corner and the housekeeper jumped up and tossed Lulu out for the second time.
Defeated and hungry, Lulu shuffled off in search of easy food. She found nothing but the compost pile at the back door. She was deciding whether anything looked edible when the door opened and the housekeeper stepped out.
“You can’t eat from there, silly thing,” she said, then, with a sigh, tossed Lulu an overripe pear from the bucket in her hand.
“Thank You,” Lulu said.
The woman jumped back, dropping her bucket.
Lulu kicked herself. She’d forgotten animals couldn’t talk here. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.”
“You’re a beaver. You shouldn’t be saying anything.”
“Let’s just say I’m not the kind of beaver you’re used to.”
The woman stared blankly for a moment, then shook her head. “I must be getting old.”
Lulu wasn’t sure what that meant, but decided to press on. “My name is Lulu, and I think maybe you could help me, Mrs….?”
“Macready. But what could I do to help a talking beaver?”
“Well, you have an old wardrobe upstairs, which I need to get home.”
Mrs Macready looked perplexed. “You need my… wardrobe… to get home.”
“Yes.”
“What are you going to do to it?”
“Nothing, Ma’am. I’ll just go through, back to my world.”
“Your… world?”
“Yes. You see, I’m from Narnia, and I accidentally fell through the wardrobe into your world, as the Kings and Queens of Cair Paravel once accidentally fell into mine.”
“The who?”
Lulu frowned. “The Kings and Queens of Old. Queen Lucy. King Peter. Queen Susan. King Edmund. They’re from your world, aren’t they?”
“I do recall some children by those names staying here during the war, but they weren’t royalty.”
“They were to my world.”
Mrs Macready shook her head in bewilderment. “Well then, I suppose I should see you home.”
Lulu nodded gratefully and followed Mrs Macready back up the stairwell, down a long, twisty corridor and finally to the wardrobe.
“Thank you,” Lulu said, hopping inside.
“Wait. I’m curious…”
Lulu laughed. “Come on, then.”
Mrs Macready smiled and followed her in.
When Lulu entered the lamppost clearing, she turned to watch Mrs Macready.
The house keeper’s eyes widened in wonder. “Oh…” she said.
A slow smile stretched across Lulu’s face. “‘Welcome to my home.”
Turning Back
© Willow Brooke – Age 15, New Zealand
Thanks to my uncle for inspiration.
Dreams tormented her that night, and she tossed and turned, moaning in her sleep. She dreamed of trains crashing and carriages falling. She dreamed of her brothers and sister, of her mother and father. And as she did, tears wet on her face, darkness swallowed her up into silence and blindness.
She did not know how long it lasted, but soon it started to peel away, the land around her brightening, and she saw trees and grass and bubbling streams struck into sparks by rays of sunlight. She wanted to stay here, happy and secure; but a great lion came, and he said, “Come away. This place is not for you.”
She was pulled away from the sunlight and growing things. And then she was in front of a wardrobe set at the end of a long room, silent; but a thoughtful silence, not an empty one. And when she stepped forward, a name bounced around, echoing, yet never growing louder or quieter, simply existing, even as the shreds of the dream-world tore apart.
“Narnia, Narnia, Narnia…”
*
Susan Pevensie was dying. The cancer discovered barely two months ago in her back was spreading, and the doctors had told her that she had only a few days left. She had moved into hospital after her diagnosis, desperate for as much time as possible, because she wasn’t ready to die. Not yet.
In the years after her family had died in a train crash, she had often dreamed about what would come after death, and where they were now. She wanted to see them again – wanted to feel once more what it was like to be a family. They had died, and now it was her turn; and the thought of the other side frightened her.
Restless, she tossed in her bed. The pain that had plagued her was gone for the first time in months, and she knew her time was passing swiftly. After she died, where would she go? There was only one place that she truly wanted to be when she passed on, and that was Narnia – the Narnia Lucy had found through the back of a wardrobe in the old house where they had staying after being evacuated from London. The Narnia she had visited twice, each time when it was in desperate need. The Narnia where they had met Aslan.
She could have retained her faith in him after she had come back, but the world of parties and fashion that she entered drove the things that used to matter to her from her mind. Peter and Edmund and Lucy had tried to remind her – “Remember Reepicheep? Remember Mr Tumnus? Remember Aslan?” – but she had ignored them, passing it off as a childhood game because admitting it was real would mean also admitting that she was not in control of her fate.
Then the train crashed, and her family died, and her life shattered. And now, lying in bed waiting for death, she had nothing to hope for except a peaceful ending.
She sighed and slowly fell into a doze, dreaming once more of the wardrobe, its door ajar as she stood before it and reached for the handle to pull it open.
But behind her there was a growl, and as she whirled round she already knew who it was. A lion stood there, his mane about him like a cloud of gold. And the sight filled her with intermingled joy and terror.
“Aslan,” she whispered.
“Susan,” he said, “This place is not for you.”
“Because I turned away?”
“The faithless cannot come into my kingdom.”
“Tell my family I’m sorry,” she said, and turned away.
“I did not say you could go,” he said, and she looked back to him. “There is hope for you yet, Susan. Tell me, who am I?”
“Who are you?” she repeated. “You are Aslan, son of the Emperor Over the Sea, and by giving up your life for a traitor you saved all of Narnia. And I believe in you,” she added.
Aslan laughed, and the sound was the thunder of a great waterfall. “And you are saved,” he said, and came towards her, his mane brushing against her. She turned to look the same way he did.
“You have found the Way,” he said, and let out a roar as she covered her ears. The wardrobe door swung open, and she saw what was beyond:
Narnia, yet brighter and bigger than the Narnia she had known. And in front of her were Peter and Edmund and Lucy, and behind them her mother and father.
Aslan, standing at her side, said to them, “A Queen has come home.”
*
And, back in her bed, Susan died with a smile on her lips.
“But don’t go trying to use the same route twice. Indeed, don’t try to get there at all. It’ll happen when you’re not looking for it.”
– The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe