The night is cool. Nothing close to the frigid nights of the last nine years of my life. This cool is almost pleasant. The reprieve after a hot day. Yet, despite the smoothing air around me, I can't sleep. I can hear Lucy tossing and turning in her bed across the tent. Susan is more peaceful, so I suspect she, too, lies awake. The strangest feeling settles in the pit of my stomach, and my back causes too much discomfort to ignore.

A twig snaps, and the sound of something soft swishes against the canvas. Lucy bolts upright.

"Susan, Cressida." She whispers.

We're both awake, sitting up as Aslan's shadow is cast against the side of our tent. I slide out of bed, pulling my dress over my head, lacing my boots and fastening my weapons belt. The Pevensie sisters do the same and we sneak as quietly as possible into the desolate camp.

We slink through the trees, hanging back from Aslan. My footfalls are nearly silent, but Susan and Lucy are not so accustomed to travelling unheard. A twig snaps between Lucy's feet, and Aslan's soft voice carries back to us, carried on the wind,

"Shouldn't you three be in bed?"

The three of us look at each other before emerging from the trees.

"We couldn't sleep." Lucy says, entwining her fingers in Aslan's golden mane.

"Please, Aslan, couldn't we come with you?" Susan asks.

"I would be glad of the company for a while. Thank you." Aslan's voice is sombre, deep and almost serene.

Something's not right, he's afraid.

The four of us walk in silence, Aslan barely makes a sound across the dry leaves and dirt of the forest. I feel the ground beneath me incline, and my ears prick to strange sounds.

Drums, shouting, squawks and cries. At the crest of the hill, I can see torches burning bright against the black of the night sky. I can't even see the stars.

"It is time; from here, I must go alone." Aslan sighs.

"But Aslan..." Susan tried to protest.

"You have to trust me, for this must be done. Thank you, Susan, thank you, Lucy." Aslan offers softly before turning to me.

The sisters have no idea what's about to happen. I do, and Aslan knows it. Tears well in my eyes,

"Please don't do this; there must be another way."

"You know the witch's wrath better than anyone, and you know what must be done."

I throw my hands around his great neck, the soft hair of his mane silky against my cheek,

"I'll go with you." My voice trembles.

"Take care of those I cannot, Cressida; you are a princess and warrior both." Aslan soothes.

He steps out of my reach, "Farewell."

The King of the Wood slowly pads away, and my heart seizes, knowing this will be the last time I speak with him. That one word could very well be his last.

Farewell.

The three of us duck behind some shrubbery, staying out of the light. We don't speak, and we barely breathe as Aslan reaches the dais. The stone table, a great altar inscribed with deep magic, looks cold and unforgiving.

The temple is meant to be a place for all, not tonight. Tonight, this is Jadis' domain.

"Why doesn't he fight back?" Lucy trembles as Jadis' army taunts and swarms Aslan.

I stand in silence. I can't bring myself to answer.

Lucy lurches forward as Ginarrbrik cuts away the first handful of Aslan's mane, holding the golden hair aloft as a trophy. Susan and I each grab one of Lucy's shoulders. Her intervention would do no good.

I grit my teeth as Aslan is bound and dragged onto the alter, Jadis leering down at him. Though she is too far away to truly see, I can picture the look on her face. I can hear her voice taunting, ringing in my ears.

The drumming comes to a terrible, magnificent crescendo as Jadis lifts one pale, slender arm.

And all is silent when that arm falls. My heart cracks.

We wait in the shadows for an age as Jadis' army disperses. Her cronies collect Aslan's mane, every last strand. I can only imagine what she'd do with it. Lucy and Susan haven't stopped crying yet, at first we had to all but cover Lucy's mouth to contain her sobs. I don't blame them; I don't expect them to be as desensitised to pain and destruction as I am.

I envy them.

I envy the youth I should have had. I envy the fact that I shed only a single tear before I became cold and numb. Living in Jadis' palace for so long, it appears ice has seeped into my very bones.

The sky is dark as we take the long walk to the stone table as though the stars themselves mourn. The world around us is silent and still. Part of me yearns to tell Lucy not to look, to tell both of them to turn away and return to their brothers, but I can't. It wouldn't be fair. They're queens, titles ordained by a prophecy even Aslan holds above all else...held above all else. They deserve to see what they wish, no matter how badly I wish I could protect them from it.

Aslan's bonds sit firmly in place, digging deep into his golden hide. Dark blood, dried stiff, matts the fur around the large knife wound. It was a clean blow, right between the ribs to his heart; it was quick.

At least Jadis gave that small mercy.

Lucy unscrews the cap of her healing cordial,

"It's too late. He's gone. He must have known what he was doing." Susan whispers, gently pressing down on Lucy's hand.

The younger sister recaps the bottle and buries her face is Aslan's neck, tears flowing once more. Susan strokes his fur, her tears quieter but there nonetheless.

"He did know," I whispered. "This was his bargain."

"Did you know what he was going to do?" Susan sniffles.

It's not an accusation.

"Yes, I knew when he said goodbye what would happen."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Lucy's voice wobbles.

"Would it have done you any good, knowing what would happen and being powerless to stop it?"

Lucy looks at me, her eyes wide and silver-lined, a deeper blue than her brothers. She nods slowly, seeing the truth in my reasoning.

The sisters return to their vigil, and I do something I haven't done in a very long time, something I'm not even sure I remember how to do.

I pray. Pray for Aslan's gentle passage into the immortal plains. I know my gods are not his, but I would want the same for me, no matter who or what someone believed in.

Susan's voice pierces the silence,

"Get away, get away, all of you!"

Mice swarm the stone table, and my face twists in a scowl. Surely even these small creatures can comprehend what's happened.

"No, look," Lucy says quietly.

Aslan's bonds snap one by one as tiny teeth nibble away at the fibres. They're freeing him. I begin pushing away the heavy severed ropes, casting them aside. Lucy and Susan follow suit until Aslan's body is free of the restraints.

He looks peaceful, as though he is merely asleep. I wish he would wake, we can't do this on our own. Susan smooths back Lucy's hair,

"We have to tell the others."

"We can't just leave him!" Lucy argues.

"Lucy, there's no time. They need to know."

Silence falls for a moment,

"The trees." Lucy breathes.

She looks at me, and without a second thought, I whisper our message to the Wood.

Aslan is dead.