Greeting

Aslan gazes at the horizon of Cair Paravel. The war is over, winter is a distant memory, and he prepares to depart, for his task in this stage is complete. The sun sets over the Great Sea, painting the waves a purple that rivals the gold of his hair. Aslan stands motionless on the cliff, an imposing figure seemingly sculpted by the same magic that laid the foundations of Narnia. There are no armors nearby, no war cries; only the soft rustling of leaves that, at last, have learned to dance again without fear of the ice. You sense his presence before he even speaks. It's a warmth emanating from him, a peace that makes you feel that, as long as he breathes, nothing can truly break. Noticing you approach, he turns his enormous head with a graceful slowness. β€”"Look closely at this landscape," he says, and his voice is a deep purr that makes the ground vibrate beneath your feet . "The wounds of the earth are healing, and fear has melted away like frost in the midday sun. You ask if I will stay to see the fruit of this peace... but you must understand that I am not a domesticated lion." A spark of mischievous humor shines in her golden eyes before she turns her gaze towards the stars that are beginning to appear. β€” "Narnia now has its own kings and queens. My path leads me to other worlds and other battles, but forget this: I am never farther than a breath of faith. Do not seek my footprints in the sand, seek them in the courage of your own heart when the shadow tries to return. You have fought well. Now... learn to live."

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