Hello, everyone. Seeing as I don't really have as much time to write as I would like to, here is just a little something that one of my friends requested. She asked for an unconventional Pevensie fic where the children aren't just representatives of people and Saints mentioned in the Bible. So, lo and behold, this arose.

If you find some, then please ignore the grammar and spelling mistakes. I try to catch them all, but sometimes I miss a few.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except some of the plot, but even that may be shaky.

Enjoy!

Through Time and Tested Error

One-shot

None of them were quite certain when it was that they first realized what it was they were to become. It might have been the time Peter caused a fight to break out in the middle of the street just by passing by, or the time they all realized the Susan never got sick. It might even have been the moment when they noticed that Edmund could eat all of the food at the table and never be filled or get bigger. And yet, it might have been when they realized that Lucy's love of life stemmed just a little bit deeper than normal.

But, if none of these, they would probably all agree it was when the priest read to them about the End of Days. It was a chilling homily and the four children could practically feel the apprehension in the little chapel. War still ravaged the world at the time and many feared that maybe the End was already beginning.

It wasn't, at least, not then.

The Four had not yet been released.

And yet, the Kings and Queens still cringed when they heard him say, "Come."

Many people found it odd that Susan Pevensie wasn't crying. She hadn't cried when she received the news and, as far as anyone could tell, she hadn't cried afterwards. It was concerning, some said. It was disgraceful, others muttered. There were even a few who questioned why she had not been with her family. To these Susan did not reply, but everyone knew she had an answer. She always had an answer.

The day of the funeral was rainy, although the woman supposed that it was only fitting. Aslan would cry for her as she could not bring herself to do the same. People she may or may not have ever met spoke words of nonsense that never quite reached her ears. She was a brick wall to everyone and the only thing she allowed to pass her was the vision of the coffins. She stared at those black boxes throughout the entire service and then all the way to the cemetery. Yet it wasn't until they were actually being lowered into the ground that she allowed herself to actually look at them.

Susan's emotionless gaze rested first on her parent's coffins. She could barely remember the last conversation she had had with them, although she wouldn't doubt that it had been an argument. The woman's eyes hardened. It was good that her parents were dead. Now they were safe from knowing what was to come. They wouldn't have to witness the destruction their children would inevitably bring. Her good parents didn't deserve that; they didn't deserve any of this.

Her gaze then wandered over towards the next four coffins being lowered. The professor, Aunt Polly, Eustace, and Jill knew what was to come and were protected from the terrors that would be inflicted upon the Earth. They were safe in Aslan's paws and Susan couldn't help but be slightly jealous. They were allowed to be bystanders and didn't have to be burdened by future tasks. It hurt to know that she was denied that peace she so craved, but Susan didn't like to dwell. The least she could do was be happy for them and so she gave their new graves a small queenly nod in respect. She would happy through the pain.

Susan had to force herself next to watch as her siblings' black caskets were carefully placed into the ground. The woman didn't cry, despite the fact that she desperately wanted to. She did not give herself that luxury and reminded herself that there was absolutely nothing to cry about. Unlike her parents and friends, there were no bodies in those four graves. The workers after the accident had said that their bodies must have been completely destroyed, but the Gentle Queen knew better. Her siblings had to come back and they would need bodies in order to do so. Susan wasn't about to go looking for them, as she knew Aslan had them well hidden. Her siblings' jobs weren't done either and she pitied them for their brief respite.

They would be back.

The sun was beginning to set when the last of the mourners left and the gentle queen found herself alone in the cemetery. She stared at the sun, it's rays having no affect on her sight, and let herself drift for a second in the abyss she so wanted to go to. People wondered why she hadn't been with her family at the time of the crash, but Susan refused to answer them. It was none of their business why she wasn't there.

Susan choked back a sob.

She had wanted to be there. She had wanted to go back to Narnia, back to where everything made sense, but she couldn't. She wasn't allowed to. He said, "Come," and she had to follow. She could do naught but obey.

The woman bit back another sob as the sunlight hit her face. All too heavy was the phantom bow in her hand and crown on her brow. It was her reminder - a reminder of why she was still here.

She gripped the bow tightly and screwed her eyes shut. She used to like being first, especially since it was so rare. Normally Peter was first because he was the eldest, but now that she was finally called first Susan realized she was much happier with being second. It was lonely and she didn't know how long it would be before one of her siblings was finally called back. She didn't know if she could do it alone.

The queen shook her head. No. She couldn't think like that. This was her job. She couldn't let everyone down just because of her doubts. She had already done that too many times.

So, raising her head, the Narnian let the last rays of the sun shine across her. The ghost of a White Horse laid its head on her shoulder and she let Aslan's Love fill her. Curtsying to the graves, Queen Susan the Gentle turned away with a sense of purpose. It was time the World knew that which Conquered and could not be Conquered in return.

The First Seal had been broken. It was time the World knew Pestilence.

Cordless phones were obnoxious little things if he did say so himself. They were as big as bricks and had the horrible tendency of getting lost. It was awful when he heard the phone ring and he couldn't just go to the same place to get it. This is not to say that people called him often, it was just that when they did he couldn't actually answer. The late twentieth century, he decided, was soon becoming the bane of his existence.

As it were, the phone call he was about to receive today would spell the beginning of what would eventually become known as the best, and later, worst, years in Earth's history. The month was January, the day the seventh, and the year: 1992. Snow was falling at a nice even pace and anyone with any real sense was sitting inside next to the fire sipping tea, or coffee, or hot cocoa.

Then again, his siblings always did say he had no real sense.

The cordless phone range long and loud, but the man already had it ready in his hand. He had been waiting seven days for this call.

Pressing the button to answer, the man opened his mouth to say a greeting, but the person on the other end of the line beat him to it.

"You're late, Peter."

The man, Peter, only shut his mouth and smiled.

"Hello, Susan." He could almost see her grin through the phone. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this phone call?"

He heard her laugh. "What? I'm not allowed to call my big brother after such a long time apart?"

"Of course you are, but I thought you would be quicker about it. I've already been here for seven days and you're only now getting to me." He made a tsking noise. "You're losing your touch in your old age."

She grumbled over the line and said, "I will have you know that I still look like I'm twenty-one."

"Of course you do." He laughed at her shout of indignation. "And what do you mean 'I'm late?'" Peter crossed his arms. "I will have you know that I have never been late for anything."

"You missed almost the entirety of the Cold War. I'd say you're late."

"Yes, well," Peter sighed. "The Cold War was the doing of Man. We both know that the War that is to come will make those of the past seem like mere disagreements."

"Wow, Peter, who knew you could be so negative," she said, her tone a high sarcastic.

The older man gave an empty smile. "Who knew you could be so positive."

"That's what happens when you're forced to live alone for forty some odd years."

"Maybe not so much longer." This time the smile was real. "Would you like to come over for some tea?" His grin began to falter when he didn't get an immediate response. "Su?"

A shaky breath sounded over the line before she stammered, "I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Peter."

"Well, why ever not?" The eldest Pevensie questioned her. "We haven't seen each other for years. Do you not want see me?"

"No! No, that's not it at all," she exclaimed. "I just…I just don't think I can see you without seeing…it."

His shoulders sagged. "Oh."

"And," her voice shook some more, "I don't want you to see it either."

Peter shook his head. "It's not a disease, Su."

"…Maybe not yours'."

There was a pause as the older man digested what she said.

"So just phone calls then?"

"Yes," she murmured sadly. "Besides I'm moving to South Africa in a few days. I have to finish packing."

Peter sighed. "Oh, I see." His heart began to break. "I'll talk to you later then?"

"Sure." Her tone was accepting. "We'll talk later."

"Goodbye Su."

"Goodbye Peter."

The blond man slowly lowered the phone from his ear and let it rest in his hand. He gazed at it sadly, desperately wishing his sister would call back and tell him that she had changed her mind.

She didn't.

Five minutes later, Peter walked back over to the table and quietly placed the obnoxious contraption back into its charger. Releasing a breath, he let his gaze wander around the cozy red room before getting fed up and grabbing his coat from the rack.

Opening the front door, the man walked out into the falling snow and stood on the nearly empty sidewalk. He walked around for a long while, not even looking where he was going, until he was stopped by the sight of four children running around pelting snowballs at each other. They looked so happy together that it made Peter smile at their innocence. He watched as they raced passed him and down another street until they were completely out of view.

His smile faltered.

Snow continued to come down as the man slowly looked up at what he wished were a clear blue sky. Even now, he could imagine the sky turning red and it made him want to scream at the unfairness of it all. How he wished his job were over and how he wanted to just go back to Aslan's Country with his head bowed and tell the Great Lion that he couldn't do it.

But he didn't.

Peter knew his purpose and he had had years of Aslan's helping Grace to finally make him accept it. It still hurt to think of, but when the Lion had said, "Come," Peter did not disobey Him.

Popping sounds came from the alleyway nearby and Peter flinched at each one. He knew that sound.

Gathering his wits and taking a deep breath, Peter slowly made his way towards the street he had last seen the four children disappear to. His heart grew heavy as he neared the area, but it wasn't until he saw them that he wished he had stayed inside. Snow turned red and melted around the warm blood slowly spilling from the bodies, their pockets turned inside out. Despite their slowly freezing frames, small smiles were on their faces. While every instinct in Peter told him to turn and get someone, he did not. Larger footprints, slipping and sliding away from the children, told the man all he needed to know. Funny, he hadn't even heard any screaming.

The blood continued to make its path through the snow until it was almost touching Peter's boots. The red liquid stopped and Peter, his gaze never leaving the bodies, could feel as the blood morphed out of the corner of his eye. The heavy weight of Rhindon pulled at his hand, but the man didn't let himself falter. The fiery, blood red horse just barely laid its head on his shoulder as the High King allowed himself a few tears.

It was a reminder; his reminder that battles were not always fought on the battlefield and that conflicts took many forms. In such struggles, even innocents die. So Peter turned away, the horse by his side and Rhindon in his hand. Someone else would find them, someone much more worthy than him.

And so, gazing up at the now snow-less and blue sky, High King Peter the Magnificent let his heart harden. His grip on the sword tightened and the king readied himself for battle.

The Second Seal had been broken. It was time the World knew War.

Edmund Pevensie loved books. He enjoyed sitting in a cozy chair by the fireplace with an open tome in his lap and just reading the words on the page. In Narnia, there were many times when he would actually fall asleep in the library only to wake up to his siblings' grinning faces. But now…now Edmund was angry.

Books, the things that calmed his nerves and helped his sleepless nights were no more. The world had progressed too far since his death and books were merely memories imprinted into electronic databases. Computers, chips, televisions, all of them took the place of what had once been Man's greatest accomplishment. It was sad, the young king thought, that the world had come to depend on their technology so much that bound paper no longer existed.

January 1, 2092 was a sad day indeed.

Edmund sighed as he walked down the quiet New York street. If memory served him correctly Manhattan should have been anything but silent. Peter and Susan were doing their jobs well it would seem and the young man didn't know whether that was good or bad.

A bell chimed as he opened the door to a café. Few people were in the small establishment, but those that were did not seem to be lacking in food or funds. They were all rather portly, but, then again, so was almost everyone else in the world. Now a day, food was the only thing people could really receive. The fact that most of it was grown in labs helped.

The dark haired man almost found it funny how things were so backwards from the last war he remembered. Rations, coupons, small gardens in the yard, all there so that people didn't starve to death. In this War though, food seemed to be the only thing people could still get.

Edmund didn't think that was very fair.

Still, he supposed that with the world's population decreasing so quickly it was no wonder that food was suddenly more available. War had taken the soldiers for years now and every day thousands died. Edmund didn't even think they knew why they were fighting anymore.

So the population decreased.

To add to it, in conjunction with the war, disease seemed to spread like wildfire. The king had to hand it to his older sister - she definitely knew how to play games. Allowing the world to think they had a leg up on different illnesses was horrifyingly brilliant. But the people really should have thought of the consequences of their actions. Too much of a good thing can be bad and Susan seemed to have taken advantage of that. There were almost no bacteria or viruses today that were not resistant to an antibiotic.

So the population got even smaller.

And now here he was. A steaming bowl of stew was placed in front of his person and Edmund almost wanted to ask how in the world people could eat this in such a time. He didn't. It was best not to stand out too much. His skinny frame already did that for him.

Picking up his spoon, Edmund inhaled the food in the bowl, not even really taking the time to taste it. Then again, it probably wouldn't matter; everything seemed to taste like chalk to him.

Draining the bowl clean, the young man turned his head to look out the window. Snow fell from the sky as it did every other day of the year. Warm weather was a thing of the past now and people only had themselves to blame. Not that there was really anyone except the elderly who remembered summer days and even their memories were fading.

"You know, Ed, it really isn't good to brood," a soft voice spoke from above the hunched over man.

Edmund smirked, recognizing the voice despite years of not seeing the person. "And you, Su, really have got to stop this habit of sneaking up on people." The woman laughed slightly and sat down across from him.

Both kept their eyes riveted on the falling snow so as to prevent themselves from looking at the other. It was a sad, but necessary action that they all took to make sure that they wouldn't see what each other had become. Peter hated it, Lucy hated it, Edmund hated it, and the young king would bet everything to say that Susan hated it most of all. But it could not be helped.

"I talked to Peter the other day." Edmund hummed to show he was listening. "He told me to tell you 'hello' and that he might stop in and visit when he feels a respite in the War."

"A respite?" Edmund raised an eyebrow. "Can there really be such a thing these days?"

Susan laughed high and cold. "Probably not, but War has hit everywhere. Not even Manhattan was spared."

"I figured as such," Edmund said grimly. "So what are you doing here? I thought you were enjoying the South."

The woman smirked, red lips drawing the eye of every man in the room except for the one across the table. "Even I like to take vacations, Ed. The last time I was in New York City was when I went with Mum and Dad. I figured I'd see it again before it was gone."

"A little late aren't you, Su?" The man smirked. "I'm afraid the Sleepless City decided to take a nap."

"Really?" She asked sardonically. "I hadn't noticed."

"Might want to get your old eyes checked then." They both laughed.

Then they frowned.

"So what did you bring this time?" Edmund ran his finger across the rim of the glass.

Susan, knowing exactly what he was asking, only shrugged. "I'm not quite sure. Possibly malaria, but I've also taken a bit of a shine to bubonic plague." Her younger brother laughed at her choices, but it was not a nice sort of laugh at all.

"A bit old school isn't it?"

Susan smiled. "Might as well hit them with the unexpected than with the expected."

The man nodded in agreement. "A good philosophy."

"I learned from the best."

A moment of silence passed between the two before the former queen tilted up her hat to look at her own reflection in the window. "What about you, Ed? I'm afraid you didn't tell me what your plans are."

Edmund only gave a cold smile to his own reflection and wagged his finger in her direction. "Now, now, Sister. I'm not about to reveal all of my tricks before I've even begun. I'm afraid it just wouldn't be fair to everyone else that way."

"But you always tell me," she said.

Her brother nodded and said, "True, but I do not want to tell it."

"…Oh," she replied, understanding. "That would be a good reason." Edmund only hummed in agreement.

"Susan?" He asked after a moment of silence.

"Yes Ed?" She replied quietly.

"Why is it, do you think, that Aslan chose us for this task?" He watched the snow whirl up from the ground as wind whipped the street. "Is it because we found Narnia? Or would this have happened even if we had not?"

His older sister pondered for a second in silence before she let dark blue eyes fall to look at the table. "I don't know, Ed. I wish I had an answer for you."

The younger man only gave a humorless laugh. "I didn't expect you to." A sad smile crept onto his face. "In the Bible we are depicted as merciless and cruel; as vile creatures who do not understand this world. Is that what we will become?"

"No," she replied. So firm and determined was her tone that Edmund was almost surprised. "We are depicted as such because the one who wrote it did not understand completely what he was shown. We save the people from the horrors even we dare not bring."

"Good answer," he said breathlessly, stunned by her words. "And I suppose even we suffer with them."

"Very true."

Edmund laced his fingers and let his head rest on them. "I had hoped, when I died, that I would be done." He gave a soft chuckle. "No such luck I guess."

Susan hummed in agreement. "People sometimes speak of a Purgatory. Maybe this is ours."

"Some punishment."

"It fits the crime." Edmund raised an eyebrow at the table, not completely understanding.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

A resigned smile spread across her face. "We committed a horrible crime to this world, Ed, when we returned from Narnia." A tear slipped down her face and Edmund desperately wished he could wipe it away. "Do you know what that crime was?"

"What?"

His sister took a deep breath. "We didn't love it enough." She heard him inhale sharply. "When we came back for the first time, our love for Narnia overshadowed the love we should have also had for this world. We wanted so desperately to return Home that we forgot that Earth needed us too. This world needed our help and we didn't realize it until it was too late." She took a shaky breath and said, "So now we shall reap the consequences of our actions."

They sat in shocked and sad silence for a few minutes before Edmund let out a sigh. Closing his eyes, he whispered, "So the punishment fits the crime."

"So the punishment fits the crime," she reiterated. "We are not guiltless, Ed, and this is the penalty for our mistake."

Edmund nodded at her words, not liking them, but still accepting. Clapping his hands, he said, "Well then, I suppose I had best let you get to work."

"And I you." The two stood from the table and turned away from each other.

Throwing on some extra layers, they stood still for a moment before Edmund said, "I hope you enjoy the city, Susan."

She nodded. "Yes, I do believe I shall. Good luck, Ed."

"Good luck, Su."

Both left the café at the same time, but only the man remained to look out at the deserted streets.

Taking in the contrasting scenes of barrenness and gluttony, Edmund felt his blood turn cold. It was appalling that people would eat lab created food in times when their world was crumbling. The least they could have done was try and save the very earth they walked on. But no, people no longer seemed to care about such things. The man sighed at the thought. He supposed he could not shoulder all the blame on them if he too was guilty of the crime. The punishment was fitting, but if only it didn't have to be such a harsh lesson. How he wished this was someone elses' duty!

Edmund shook his head and tried to clear his mind of such a thought. He was doing this for Aslan. The Lion had asked it of him and he dared not go against the One he Loved so much. Aslan asked him to "Come" and he would do just that.

Tucking his hands into his pockets, the Just King began the long walk back to his apartment. If nothing else, the fact that the city was practically deserted let him have his pick of the housing. Really, that was its only saving grace.

As he neared the building, Edmund found himself glaring at another structure just across the street. This facility was one of the world's food labs, where food was created and shipped out across the globe. Home cooked meals and family dinners were a thing of the past and it disgusted the young man.

The king stood rooted in his spot for a moment as he just stared at the building. It was irrational, he knew, but that didn't mean much in the long run. He hated the place for what it signified. It wasn't long before his dislike intensified and he slowly felt the dual weight of twin swords in each hand. From each hilt a golden scale hung mockingly. Cenhelm and Rhonwen, Orieus had dubbed them.

His gaze so focused on the lab, he barely noticed the brown Horse that shifted out of the shadows of the building. Reaching up to stroke the head of the Horse, Edmund smiled.

"You know," he began, "I do believe I'm supposed to have a black horse."

The Horse moved his eyes in what could only be interpreted as an eye roll and then nodded his head. "Black, brown, they both look the same in different light and as if I would let you ride any Horse other than me."

The man laughed and nodded as well. "Too true, Philip. Too true."

Philip snorted and looked at the swords only visible to the two. "For that matter you're also supposed to have a set of scales." Edmund only raised the hilts of the dual blades in response. "Of course you would be the one who defies all that is written."

"Well I do have a reputation to uphold." Edmund smirked humorlessly. "Besides, I think it best I have something to cut the food down with, don't you?"

"I couldn't agree more."

"You know the plan then, Philip." He tightened his grip on the swords. "A quart of wheat for a day's wages, and three quarts of barley for a day's wages, and do not damage the oil and the wine!"

"It shall be done, my king." With that, the old Horse faded back into the shadows, leaving Edmund with only the blades. Looking back towards the lab and then down the street to the café, King Edmund the Just narrowed his eyes and put his heart in a box.

The Third Seal had been broken. It was time the World knew Famine.

Snow covered nearly every inch of visible land and the oceans had long since iced over. If not for the fact that she knew that this was the very same world she had been born into, Lucy Pevensie wouldn't have believed that she was in the right place.

The year 2100 was not a happy one.

Maybe it was better this way, then. Maybe not recognizing this world would make it easier. Lucy closed her eyes at the thought. She couldn't believe that anything would make this job easier.

It was obvious that her siblings had already been here. Half starved and diseased people made that blatant enough. Now though, it was her turn and Lucy was ready to be sick at the mere thought of it.

"Oh Aslan, please give me the strength to do this task for You," she murmured under her breath. It was sad to watch the people before her and she didn't know if she could do this without Aslan's help. It-

"Lucy?" Reigning in the urge to whip around at the sound of her name, the queen settled for quirking her head in acknowledgment.

"Hello, Ed." She allowed her heart to slow. "It's been a while."

She heard him laugh. "Yes it has. I wish I could say you've grown, but, well, I can't exactly look at you to see." Lucy could only smile at his awful attempt at humor.

"You might want to stick with sarcasm, Ed; it suits you better."

"I figured I'd try something new."

"It isn't working."

"Oh well," Lucy could almost see her older brother shrugging, "it was worth a try." Moving to stand next to the woman, hat low over his face, he joined her in staring out at the frozen ocean. "So how are you enjoying China?"

"Honestly," she said, "I was rather hoping for something a little bit more…sunny."

"Yes, well," he moved to examine his nails, "soon there will be more than enough fire to go around."

Lucy only 'hmm-ed' in thought before narrowing her eyes. "What are you doing here, Ed?"

"What? I'm not allowed to visit my little sister?" He asked.

"Not when you have a job to do in the West."

Edmund gave a short chuckle. "A bit uptight there, Lu?" He smiled, but it soon disappeared when the young woman didn't reply. "Lu?"

"They've done nothing, Ed," she whispered. "I don't want the Blood of Innocents on my hands." She gripped the phantom cordial tightly. The red liquid known for giving life in Narnia, but which took it away on Earth, shimmered in what few rays of sunlight still graced the Earth.

Her older brother sighed. "Lucy," he began, resisting the urge to pull her into a hug, "if you don't do this, they will suffer so much more than they already are." Lucy nodded, knowing this, but it didn't stop the pain of having to do it.

"There are going to be painful visions, Lucy," he whispered. "The sun will vanish and the moon with turn red. Earthquakes and fire will envelop everything and everyone." If he could have looked at her, his eyes would be pleading. "We have to save who we can from that torment. Do you think we liked doing what we did? Sure, the actions of some of the people made me angry, but I didn't like starving them. I can't expect you to like your job either." He paused. "Lucy, save them from the pain that is soon coming. Bring them to Aslan and let them know the Love that we know."

"It just hurts so badly, Ed," she sobbed, the ghost of a pale horse draping its head over her shoulder.

The king sighed. "I know, Lu, but Aslan asked this of us. Who are we to deny him?"

"I still don't like it," she hiccuped.

"I don't either," he said. "But Aslan told you, "Come," and so that is what you must do. Do you understand?"

"…I understand." She gave a world-weary sigh and then gave a slight smile. "When did you get so good at pep-talks anyway?"

Edmund gave a small laugh. "I've just been spending too much time with Peter."

"Makes sense."

"That's why I said it."

Silence descended upon the two for a moment as the last of the sun's rays tried to break through the clouds. They didn't make it.

"You going to be okay then, Lu?" Edmund asked, breaking the silence.

The youngest queen nodded in resignation. "Yes, I think so. Thanks Ed."

The man smirked. "No problem." Putting his hands in his pockets, he turned back around away from his sister and said in a more jovial tone, "Well, I'm off then. My good deed for the day is done and I have to head back West."

Surprised, Lucy asked, "Already?"

"Well, I have been here a bit longer than I should have." He shrugged. "My work here is done. The rest is up to you."

"Gee, thanks," she drawled out as he began to walk away, but just before he got out of earshot she called out to him once more. "Wait, Edmund!"

He stopped, but didn't turn around.

"How did you know where I was?" But her older brother just smiled and pointed to the sky.

"A little birdie told me." He left her there in shock as he vanished out of view, but then that shock gave away to happiness. She knew what he meant.

"Thank you, Aslan," she whispered happily.

Turning around to look at all of the poor people around her, Lucy frowned. But unlike before, it was a determined frown, one that spoke of her resolve to do what she must. She could do this and she would help these people escape the torment that was soon to come.

Queen Lucy the Valiant clutched her cordial to her chest and stepped forward.

The Fourth Seal had been broken. It was time the World knew Death.

In the year 2103, the Fifth Seal broke and visions of martyrs were given to those who had not been taken away.

In 2110, the Sixth Seal broke and earthquakes and fire ravaged the world. Those whom Lucy had managed to take were spared the horror, but she could not protect everyone.

And then, in the year 2112, the Seventh Seal broke and the Seven Angels sounded their trumpets to play across the world. The torment was over and those who had been left were finally taken away by the two Sides.

But these events are for the happenings of the Earth and, while important, they no longer pertained to the Four who could finally go Home together.

Among the rolling green hills of Aslan's Country, the Kings and Queens of Narnia looked at each other for the first time in many years. It was almost a shock after only hearing each others' voices, but it was a pleasant type of shock that made them want to keep it forever. Alas, the moment could not last that long as there were many they had to see and greet, but as Aslan stood over them and kissed them all, they could not imagine feeling more content.

Smiles, as bright and shining as any sun, lit up their faces, and for the first time since they were all alive, the siblings embraced. It was over, they could rest, and they were together again.

Aslan smiled.

"Welcome Home, My children. Welcome Home."

And that is that. Well I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please review, but don't flame. Constructive criticism is fine because it helps me improve as a writer, but listen to Thumper as he says, "If you have nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all."

Oh, and what Edmund says to Philip about wheat and barley is a quote taken from the Bible.

Have a wonderful night!

Bye!

~TimeMage0955