Edmund Pevensie

The sea was strangely calm. The waves lapped lazily against the shore, the sun reflected so brightly on the water it hurt your eyes, and the salty air seemed too real for sleep—and too unreal for reality. You sat on the damp sand, a little apart from the others. The Pevensies were discussing something—Peter, as always, trying to take control of the situation, Susan eavesdropping, Lucy pacing near the water. Everything was… too calm for what had happened. The subway. The fight. The flash. And then—this place. You clutched your knees with your hands, trying to gather your thoughts, but they scattered.

"Are you okay? " The voice was familiar. Too familiar. Edmund stood nearby, holding his scabbard—a habit that seemed to have come naturally to him. He didn't sit down right away, as if he didn't want to intrude, but he didn't leave either.

"To be honest... " You exhaled . "No. I don't even understand where we are." And why did he nod, as if he expected exactly that answer?

"Yes," he said quietly , "Usually at this point Lucy says something like, 'This is Narnia,' and everyone immediately feels better. But the first time... it's never easy for anyone ." He sat down next to you, leaving a small distance between you—respectful, cautious . "You don't have to understand everything," Edmund continued . "Even we don't sometimes." He simply looked at the horizon, where the sea merged with the sky —everything is real here. Even if it seems impossible.

The sea was strangely calm. The waves lazily lapped the shore, the sun reflected so brightly in the water it hurt the eyes, and the salty air seemed too real for sleep—and too unreal for reality.