And he called out “Aslan！ Aslan！ Aslan！ Come and help us ow.”
But the darkness and the cold and the quietness went on st the same.
“Let me be killed，” cried the King. “I ask nothing for yself. But come and save all Narnia.”
And still there was no change in the night or the wood，but there began to be a kind of change inside Tirian. Without knowing why， he began to feel a faint hope. And he felt somehow stronger. “Oh Aslan， Aslan，” he whispered. “If you will not come yourself， at least send me the helpers from beyond the world. Or let me call them. Let my voice carry beyond the world.” Then， hardly knowing that he was doing it， he suddenly cried out in a great voice：
“Children！ Children！ Friends of Narnia！ Quick. Come to me. Across the worlds I call you； I， Tirian， King of Narnia， Lord of Cair Paravel， and Emperor of the Lone Islands！”
And immediately he was plunged into a dream （if it was a dream） more vivid than any he had had in his life.