He just needed a moment alone, to let it all sink in.

"You will not be returning to Narnia, Son of Adam, Daughter of Eve," the Lion told them, looking gravely into their eyes.

"Never?" Susan queried.

"You are too old. You are no longer children, and only children can enter this land from yours."

"Oh, Aslan!" cried Susan, throwing her arms around his neck with a lack of reserve unusual in the dignified girl.

Peter just stood there, tears streaming down his cheeks. He didn't bother to wipe them away, didn't try to hide the fact that he was crying. He was a great king, and there was no shame in tears. When Susan stood at last, Aslan looked up at Peter. Peter felt that there was something that the lion was waiting for, something he was supposed to do or say, but he just couldn't do it. He bowed at the neck and then lifted his sword to salute Aslan.

"Come on, Su," he said at last, "We should get our things."

Now, though, as they walked through the woods toward Aslan's meeting place the full impact of what was happening seemed to hit him at once. "You go on ahead, Su," he said, his voice rough.

"Are you all right, Peter?" she asked him gently.

"I just need a moment," he answered. She touched his shoulder comfortingly, then walked on leaving Peter alone in the woods. He stood staring at the trunk of a tree, then reached out his hand tentatively to touch the bark. The feel of the living being beneath his palm made him shudder, and he dropped slowly to his knees sliding his hand along the trunk as he went. "Narnia, Narnia, Narnia," he murmured softly. In this land he had been the High King. He had grown up here. Here he had learned what it was to be a man here, and most of all had learned how to commune with his Creator. He felt that there was not a rock or tree or shrub in all of this land that he did not know intimately. Every piece of land held a memory. He felt that his very soul was wrapped up in this world. How could he ever leave it behind?

"You must learn to love your own world now, Son of Adam," a rich voice said from behind him.

"Aslan," the boy king said, "I thought you would be with the others." He stood unsteadily to his feet and turned to face the lion.

"I have come where I am most needed," he answered looking searchingly at Peter.

He knew better than to hide what he was truly feeling. "I don't want to go. I'm afraid - "

"Afraid, Son of Adam?"

"Afraid of going back and becoming – well – You see, sir, when I was here I knew what my purpose was," he admitted. "I was the High King and it was clear what I was to do. Things are so much clearer here. I feel like I belong. But there, in our world, I'm just a kid."

"You are who you are, Peter," the lion said. "The difference is only in your mind. You need to return to your own world so that you may discover that the person you are here still exists there. What you have seen and been here is only a preview, a hint of who you are to be in your own world."

"You mean that I came here to learn who I was supposed to be there?"

"That is correct."

"I think I understand, sir," he said, but there was still something that was bothering him. Something would be missing in his own world, even if he were suddenly named king of England. As usual, Aslan understood.

"Don't worry," He said gently, "I am there, too."

"You are, sir?"

"I am."

"Then I suppose I can take it all right, leaving Narnia forever, as long as I can see you there," the boy and the lion smiled at each other, then the lion motioned for the boy to kneel. The lion laid his heavy, velveted paw on the boy's shoulder and placed a lion's kiss on his forehead. "Remember," he whispered in Peter's ear, "Once a king…"

Peter bent his head, and when he lifted it he was a boy no longer. "I'm ready now, Aslan."