With Alistair, he saw that Thomas was injured on the shoulder. The young boy didn't know what came to him. He gently placed his hand on the bandaged wound.

The group exchanged surprised glances as they realized what had just happened. Alistair, a young boy who appeared to be no older than five, had just healed Thomas's injury with a touch of his hand. The golden glow emanated from him left everyone in awe, unsure of the true extent of his abilities.

Thomas stared at his shoulder in disbelief, running his fingers over the smooth skin, which was now free of any injury or trace of pain. His eyes widened in amazement, and he turned to Theodore, his father, as if seeking reassurance.

"I'm... better. It's gone," Thomas said, his voice a mix of wonder and gratitude.

While processing the events unfolding before him, Theodore placed a gentle hand on his son's shoulder, his heart full of pride and concern. "You feel well, son?"

"I feel fine, father," Thomas replied, his voice steady but filled with the same awe. He looked at Alistair, his gaze filled with curiosity. "Remarkable. Healing abilities similar to the tales of Aslan doing the same thing to his people."

Alistair looked up at them with a shy smile. His stomach growled loudly, breaking the tension in the room. "I'm hungry," he said innocently, as if healing a wound were common.

Everyone in the room let out a relieved chuckle, the weight of the situation easing. Reepicheep, ever the warrior, entered the house and stepped forward with a grin. "A boy of action, I see! Healing one moment, hungry the next. A true hero indeed."

Alistair smiled shyly, his cheeks flushing. He looked up at Thomas, Theodore, and the others. "I... I don't know how I did that. I just wanted to help," he admitted, his voice small but sincere.

"Help you did," Oscar the Centaur said, standing outside the house, his voice gentle and warm. "A healer among us, it seems. That is a rare gift indeed."

Alistair's stomach growled again, more loudly this time, drawing everyone's attention to his hunger. Theodore chuckled softly and nodded toward a nearby table where food was prepared. "You've earned yourself a meal, young one."

Alistair's eyes brightened as he looked at the spread of food. "Thank you!" he said eagerly. He ran to the table, his tiny hands reaching for a bowl of fruit and bread. The Narnian companions all smiled at his enthusiasm, relieved that there was still innocence and joy amidst the confusion and worry.

As they sat down to eat, the room filled with conversation and questions about Alistair's origins and purpose in Narnia. The mystery of his arrival remained, but they were content in his presence for now. His healing power, innocence, and hunger for adventure had already won them all over.

Prince Caspian couldn't help but watch Alistair with awe and curiosity. There was something almost otherworldly about the child, something ethereal that set him apart from any human child he had ever encountered. His pale blonde curly hair framed his cherubic face, and his golden eyes shimmered with an innocence that was both captivating and unnerving.

As Alistair eagerly ate his food, oblivious to the weight of attention, Prince Caspian's mind raced. The boy looked like the paintings of celestial beings, creatures of beauty and purity that the old Narnian legends spoke of. His golden eyes reminded Caspian of the fabled creatures that roamed the skies, distant and unreachable yet somehow connected to the very magic of Narnia.

Caspian had always felt a deep connection to the magical world of Narnia, a connection that had guided him through his journey to become King one day. But this child—Alistair—seemed to embody that magic in a way that Caspian had never experienced.

His heart swelled with the thought that this might be more than a coincidence. Perhaps this child was a sign. But of what? He didn't know yet, but the magic that surrounded Alistair felt as if it had been woven into the very fabric of Narnia itself. Caspian's eyes lingered on the lion-head pendant that Alistair wore around his neck—the same symbol that had always represented Aslan, the great and mighty Lion Emperor, protector of Narnia.

Prince Caspian's breath caught in his throat as a vision overwhelmed him. His eyes glazed over as a sudden wave of emotions and images flooded his mind. For a moment, everything around him seemed to blur, the faces of his comrades and the room itself dissolving into the ether. He stood at a beach. In the place of a young Alistair, Caspian saw a handsome young man whose features mirrored those of the boy before him yet seemed to be graced by time and experience. The man was like a reflection of himself, standing before him in that same innocent yet knowing gaze.

His heart pounded as the deep, melodic voice reached his ears.

"It has been a dream of mine to come to Narnia, and thanks to you, I get to experience the world where my Mum and Dad fell in love."

The words were spoken with such fondness and intimacy that they felt they were meant only for him. The older Alistair, the man before him, looked at him with a sense of longing, admiration, and something more profound that felt far more than simple affection—love.

Prince Caspian blinked, trying to steady his breathing, but the vision continued. It was as if the young man's presence was imprinted on his soul, and the more he stared, the more he could sense their connection. Older Alistair's golden eyes seemed to gleam with understanding and warmth, yet they carried a weight—an unspoken bond that felt timeless and eternal.

Caspian could feel his heart beating faster as his gaze flickered between the sand and the older Alistair looking before him. Something unexplainable but undeniable was happening, and it involved Alistair and a connection that stretched across time.

Caspian took a deep breath, trying to center himself. He looked at older Alistair, his expression a mixture of awe, confusion, and something that hovered on the edge of recognition.

"Your words..." Caspian began, his voice quiet but heavy with emotion. He could hardly find the right words, but it was clear that this teen—this young man—held a piece of something far more significant than either of them could understand. "Narnia is where your parents fell in love... Is it truly a dream of yours to witness it? To experience this land?"

Older Alistair nodded, his golden eyes soft yet full of meaning. He looked at him as if to emphasize his words, the sincerity and purity of his gaze unwavering. "Yes. It's always been a dream of mine. I know it all from my Mum, how she, Dad, Uncle Peter, Uncle Edmund, Aunt Susan, and Aunt Lucy helped save Narnia from the White Witch, Jadis. I always have yearned to see it for myself."

Older Alistair's voice was tender, as though he were speaking not just about his parents' past but something far more profound—an unspoken bond to Narnia that called to him from beyond time.

Caspian found his voice again, though it was thick with uncertainty. "You've seen their love for this land."

Alistair's eyes sparkled with understanding. "I've seen their love for Narnia. But I've only heard stories of their adventures here. I want to live those adventures. To see the land where everything started, and maybe, just maybe... find out where I fit in all of this."

Prince Caspian swallowed, his thoughts still swirling as this moment weighed heavily on his heart. He glanced at the boy—no, the young man in front of him—and for a fleeting moment, he felt that bond again, that inexplicable connection. This teen, whose innocence was both a gift and a mystery, seemed intertwined with Narnia's fate in ways Caspian couldn't yet comprehend.

His heart swelled with a mixture of protectiveness, wonder, and an unshakable sense of destiny.

"You are welcome here, Alistair," Caspian said softly, his voice steady but full of meaning. "Your family's legacy is part of Narnia's heart, and yours will be. We will find a place for you, as you have a place in this world, as much as your mother and father did."

Older Alistair's eyes brightened at Caspian's words. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice almost reverent. "I promise I'll help however I can."

The Prince nodded solemnly, his thoughts still racing, as the young boy—no man—standing before him felt more and more like a living connection to the past, to the love of two legendary figures, and to the magic of Narnia itself. Prince Caspian couldn't yet say what this meant for the future, but one thing was clear—Alistair's presence was no coincidence. His destiny was bound to Narnia and, perhaps, to Caspian himself.

Prince Caspian blinked, the vision fading as he returned on the present. He realized that Alistair, who is still a boy, was looking at him with concern and confusion at the dining table. The boy's golden eyes were wide as though sensing the shift in Caspian's demeanor.

Caspian took a deep breath, shaking off the overwhelming emotions and connection he had just felt. He didn't want to alarm Alistair, who was so young and vulnerable in this strange, unfamiliar world.

He smiled softly at the boy, reassuring him with a gentle tone. "I'm well, Alistair. Don't worry." His voice was calm, though his heart still raced with the weight of the vision. He didn't want to burden the boy, nor did he want Alistair to think there was any danger.

"I promise you," Caspian continued, his gaze firm and kind, "I will protect you. I'll do everything I can to help you reunite with your mother."

Alistair seemed to relax a bit, his expression softening as he nodded earnestly. "Thank you," he said, his voice small but filled with trust. He looked up at Caspian with admiration, his golden eyes filled with a quiet understanding. It was clear that Alistair, despite his youth, sensed the gravity of the moment.

Caspian placed a hand on Alistair's shoulder and smiled encouragingly. "You don't have to thank me," he said quietly. "We're in this together."

The boy nodded again, his eyes glimmering with hope as they shared a silent understanding—this journey was beginning, but whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together. The weight of the past, the future, and the bond between them would guide them.

Caspian looked at the others in the house, his heart heavy with the responsibility of protecting Narnia and all that was dear to him. With Alistair by his side and his promise to help reunite the boy with his mother, he felt more determined than ever to fight for the future of the land that had once been his home—and the mysterious destiny that awaited them both.

In the treasure room at the ruins of Cair Paravel, Elizabeth and Aslan couldn't keep their eyes off each other. Aslan studied Elizabeth, and her beauty had remained the same since the last time he had seen her centuries ago. He approached Elizabeth, gently placing his hand on her face.

Elizabeth stood still, her breath catching as Aslan's hand gently cupped her face. An overwhelming rush of emotions flooded through her—grief, love, longing, and an aching sense of loss that she had carried with her for so long. His familiar touch made the years of separation feel like nothing more than a passing moment.

Aslan's golden eyes locked with hers, a silent understanding passing between them. Though calm, his expression was filled with the same depth of emotion that Elizabeth felt. He had waited for this moment, for her to return to Narnia, for so long. His heart had never truly healed from his Empress's absence, and now, with her standing before him once more, he could feel the weight of their shared history and the love they had always carried for each other.

Tears fell from Elizabeth's eyes as she touched his hand, tracing the familiar lines of his palm as though reassuring herself that he was indeed there, standing in front of her and that this was not some dream or vision. The warmth of his touch brought back a flood of sweet and painful memories.

"I—I never thought I'd see you again," Elizabeth whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I thought I lost you forever after my siblings and I returned to Earth."

Aslan's heart ached at her words. He had long carried the guilt of leaving her behind to attend meetings when she and her siblings disappeared that day and of not being there to protect the Narnian people in their time of need. But now, seeing her so beautiful and strong again, all those feelings came rushing to the surface.

"I am so sorry, my love," he said softly, his voice a resounding, rumbling echo that seemed to resonate with her soul. "I should have never left you to attend those meetings. When learning of your disappearance, I felt lost. I had traveled the world beyond Narnia, trying to find a way to get to you. However, centuries passed, and I neglected Narnia. Now that I have returned, I have seen what happened to our land after I left."

Elizabeth's tears continued to fall, her emotions so raw and unguarded. She looked at him honestly and saw the weight of time and regret in his eyes. She gently placed her hand over his, holding it against her cheek, not wanting to let go.

"It doesn't matter now," she whispered. "We're together again, and that's all that matters." Her voice trembled, but she managed a hopeful smile as she leaned into his touch.

Aslan, his heart swelling with emotion, gently cupped her face with both hands. He tilted her head slightly, his golden eyes never leaving hers. "I will never leave you again, Elizabeth," he promised. "Not ever."

The world around them seemed to fade, and in that moment, nothing else mattered but the two of them—finally reunited after centuries apart. The love they shared, the bond that transcended time, was unbreakable, and nothing would ever tear them apart again.

Aslan leaned down, his lips brushing against her lips in a soft, tender kiss. "Welcome home, my love," he murmured.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, her heart full, as she basked in the warmth of his presence. The long years of separation seemed to vanish, and all that remained was the undeniable truth—they were together, and Narnia would be safe once more, with their love guiding them.

Peter, Edmund, and Lucy stood a short distance away, their faces bright with joy as they watched Elizabeth and Aslan reunite. This rare and beautiful moment filled them with hope and reminded them of the love and strength that had carried them through so many trials in the past.

Aslan turned to face the siblings, his golden eyes widening slightly with surprise as he took in their appearances. Though centuries had passed in Narnian time, the siblings had only aged a handful of years since their last meeting. They looked older, wiser, and more mature, yet their youthful vitality remained. It was as though the passage of time had honored the Kings and Queens of the Old.

"Peter," Aslan began, his deep voice filled with warmth and pride as his gaze settled on the eldest son of Adam. "High King, your strength and courage have always been a guiding light for your siblings and the people of Narnia. You wear your years well, and your leadership shines brighter than ever."

Peter straightened, his expression proud and humble. "Thank you, Aslan," he said, his voice steady but tinged with emotion. It's good to see you again."

Aslan smiled and turned to Edmund. "And you, Edmund. Just and as wise as ever with a sparkle of mischief. The thoughtful young man I knew has grown into a steadfast and noble King. Your loyalty and heart continue to inspire those around you."

Edmund's cheeks flushed slightly, but he smiled warmly. "Your words mean a great deal, Aslan. It's good to be home... and even better to see you again."

Finally, Aslan's golden gaze softened as he looked at Lucy. "Dear Lucy, my brave and compassionate Queen. Your faith has always been unshakable, and seeing that same light in your eyes warms my heart. You have grown into a remarkable young woman."

Lucy beamed, her eyes glistening with tears. "Thank you, Aslan," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "We've missed you so much."

Aslan looked at the three siblings, his heart swelling with pride and love for the Kings and Queens of Old, even though he noticed one was missing. "It is I who should thank you," he said solemnly. For all you have endured and your unwavering love and devotion to Narnia, even when we were apart. You have carried the light of this land in your hearts, and now that you are here, I know Narnia can heal again."

Peter, Edmund, and Lucy exchanged glances, reflecting the weight of their responsibility and the joy of reuniting with Aslan. Elizabeth stepped forward to join them, standing beside her younger siblings, and Aslan looked at them with deep reverence.

"My Empress and the Kings and Queens of Old," Aslan said, his voice resonating with power and tenderness. "Together again, as it should be. Even though one is missing, Narnia has long awaited your return."

The joyful atmosphere dimmed slightly as Aslan's golden eyes swept over the group when he saw that mentioning Susan dampened the mood. His voice was low and full of care as he asked, "And what of your sister, Susan? Where is she?"

Elizabeth, Peter, Edmund, and Lucy exchanged uneasy glances, their expressions shifting to sorrow. Edmund stepped forward to answer, quiet and determined.

"Aslan," Edmund began, his voice heavy with the weight of his words. "Susan... she no longer believes in Narnia."

Aslan's eyes flickered with sadness, but his face remained calm and composed. Edmund continued, glancing at his siblings for strength.

"After we returned to our world," Edmund explained, "Susan... she convinced herself that Narnia was just a dream. A story we made up. She's turned her attention to the things of our world—parties, friends, and... appearances."

Lucy's face fell, tears welling in her eyes. "She told us she's grown out of Narnia, Aslan. That it's just something for children. But I know she remembers, deep down. She... just doesn't want to admit it."

Peter clenched his fists, his jaw tight, and added, "Edmund tried to talk to her, to remind her of everything we went through together. But she won't listen."

Elizabeth stepped forward, her voice steady but filled with quiet sorrow. She placed her hand on his arm. "It's like she's built a wall around herself, Aslan. She's pushing us away, and Narnia along with us. I've prayed that she'll find her way back to the truth one day, but..." Her voice trailed off, and she shook her head.

Aslan listened silently, his gaze softening as he absorbed their words. His expression conveyed profound sadness but also unshakable wisdom.

"My dear ones," Aslan said after a long pause, his voice a gentle rumble, "Susan's journey is her own. The path she has chosen is one that only she can walk, and only she can choose to turn back. Do not lose hope for her, for the seeds of Narnia are planted deep within her heart, even if they seem buried now."

Lucy wiped her tears, her voice trembling. "Do you think she'll ever come back to believing, Aslan?"

Aslan smiled faintly, his golden eyes filled with compassion. "That is a question only time can answer, dear Lucy. But know this: as I care for every one of you, my care for Susan has not wavered, nor will it ever. And neither should yours."

The siblings nodded solemnly, their hearts heavy but steadied by Aslan's words. Though Susan was absent, they felt a glimmer of hope rekindling within them.

"She is still your sister," Aslan continued, "and she is still loved by this land, whether she believes in it or not. Carry that truth with you, and let it guide your hearts."

Elizabeth looks at her bag, remembering all the diaries she carries about her and Aslan's son, Alistair, from his birth and growth on Earth.

Elizabeth's fingers trembled slightly as she grabbed the weathered diary from the bag and clutched it to her chest. The room was still; the only sound was the faint ocean breeze rustling outside the ruined castle. She faced Aslan, her heart pounding in her chest, her throat tightening.

"Aslan," she began softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "there's something I've carried with me all these years. Something I've longed to tell you."

Aslan tilted his head, his golden eyes filled with gentle curiosity. "Elizabeth, whatever it is, you can share it with me. I am here now."

She stepped closer, her hands shaking as she held out the diary. "This... this is the first of many diaries I've written. They're about him. About our son."

The words hung in the air like a thunderclap, and Aslan froze, his golden eyes widening in shock. "Our... son?" he asked, his voice a mixture of awe and disbelief.

Elizabeth nodded, tears streaming down her face as she continued. "When I disappeared from Narnia, I was pregnant. I wanted to tell you, but you were in a meeting then, far from Narnia lands. At first, I was scared, thinking our child was gone. But Professor Kirke assured me that since he is part of you, your essence protected him from not existing. I was relieved to know that I was still with child—your child. Our child." She clutched the diary tightly, her voice thick with emotion. "His name is Alistair. He's... he's the most beautiful young man, Aslan. He has my hair, your golden eyes, our strength, and...our heart."

Aslan's expression was unreadable, his emotions shifting rapidly. Awe, joy, sadness, and guilt were interwoven. His voice was soft but filled with reverence. "You carried our son..."

Elizabeth's tears continued falling. "I wasn't entirely alone. Professor Kirke, Dr. Plummer, Peter, Edmund, and Lucy helped me raise him, Aslan. We kept him safe, taught him about Narnia, about you... about us. He knows everything. And now—" her voice faltered—"I don't even know where he is. He might be here in Narnia, or he might still be on Earth. I don't know, but I can feel him. I know he's alive somewhere."

Aslan stepped closer, his expression softening. He gently reached out, his hand brushing against the diary as he gazed into Elizabeth's eyes. "Elizabeth," he said, his voice trembling slightly, "a child... a son... borne of our love. I cannot begin to express what I feel right now. Joy for the gift of his life. Sorrow for not being there to protect you both. And awe... for your strength and love to raise him."

Elizabeth let out a shaky breath, relief washing over her as Aslan's words embraced her heart. "He's everything I could have ever hoped for, Aslan. And I know he's meant to be here, in Narnia. I believe he has a destiny here, just like we do."

Aslan's gaze was intense but filled with warmth. "We will find him, Elizabeth. Together. I promise you this. If Alistair is in Narnia, I will move mountains to reunite us. And if he is still on Earth, we will find a way to bring him home."

The room seemed to hum with Aslan's determination and the rekindling of their love. Peter, Edmund, and Lucy exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of surprise and quiet understanding.

Elizabeth smiled faintly, her grip on the diary relaxing as she felt a renewed hope surge within her. "Thank you, Aslan. He deserves to know his father. And Narnia deserves to meet him."

Aslan stepped closer, his voice a gentle but firm promise. "And they will. But most importantly, he will know how deeply he is loved."