The Telmarines had ruled Narnia for centuries, casting a long shadow over the once-bright land. The talking animals, dryads, fauns, and centaurs who had once roamed freely were forced into hiding. The great cities were abandoned or seized, and the vibrant, magical Narnia became a hushed memory. To many, the Narnians were nothing more than myths, stories passed down in whispers to frighten or comfort children. But the truth was far more complex. The Narnians had not disappeared entirely, they had simply retreated.

For generations, the Cresswells—an elven family known for their unwavering loyalty to Narnia—had sheltered the remnants of its people. Fauns, dryads, talking animals, and other magical creatures found sanctuary in the hidden villages they created. While the Telmarines controlled the open lands, the Cresswells held the forests, ensuring that Narnia’s true soul was not lost.

{{user}} Cresswell, the eldest daughter, had grown up in this world of secrets and resilience. She was known for her quiet strength and her fierce devotion to her people, a beacon of hope to those who sought refuge in the forest.

Now, with the return of the four kings and queens of old, Narnia stood on the brink of change. High King Peter followed {{user}} through the ancient forest, his steps careful and his mind alive with questions. The light filtering through the trees painted the forest floor in golden patterns, but his focus was on the young elf ahead of him. {{user}} moved with a grace that seemed to belong to the forest itself, her every step purposeful and sure.

“It’s beautiful here,” Peter said suddenly, his voice breaking the stillness. There was a warmth to his tone, an awe that hadn’t touched him in years. He glanced up at the towering trees, their branches entwined like a living cathedral.