But By Faith
By Simply Shelby

"Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we cannot see."
-Hebrews 1:1

On the train to school, Peter Pevensie forewent his usual space beside Edmund and decided to sit across from his brother. Promptly an half hour after the girls had left, the boys had loaded their trunks and stored their luggage overhead and were now gazing uninterestedly out the window. Each of them mulled over their respective thoughts of leaving their world behind them and reentering this one again.

"I'm sorry." Peter's voice was soft and humble and barely filled the compartment, so many unspoken words seeping into his tone.

Edmund shrugged, the boy in him uncomfortable with this sort of emotional confrontation, but the king—and the brother—in him wanted to comfort and therefore put aside embarrassment in favour of the necessary. "I know, Pete." His words were a sort of sigh, a gesture to the inevitable.

"You've been such a brick, Ed and I—I—"

"You've got it sorted." Edmund reiterated Peter's ungrateful comment.

The fair-haired boy shook his head to negate his brother's words. "I think maybe, maybe now I'm getting there. I've been so horrid this past year…"

"You were worried, Peter," Edmund said what his brother would have seen as an excuse had he been the one to say it. "You felt like you had abandoned Narnia, you didn't know what was going to happen to your country, or when we would be returning to find out—"

But Peter simply kept shaking his head slightly, back and forth, his eyes downcast in a sign of shame. "It might have began that way, Ed. But I lost faith. I stopped believing in Aslan." He folded his hands in an attempt not to lash out. "I was so angry! I didn't understand why he made us wait so long, why I couldn't see him, why he didn't do anything!"

"I don't think," Ed started speaking, softly and low, "you can be angry with someone you don't believe in."

"Even so… my faith wavered. I was so selfish..."

For Narnia! he'd screamed, thinking only of himself and what he could do; what he could accomplish.

"I believed," he continued, "that I could do everything without Aslan's help. Lucy was right. I had forgotten who defeated the White Witch. And when I tried to face her alone—" He squeezed his eyes shut.

"I know," his brother murmured, "Probably more than anyone, Peter…" He paused for a long moment. "You did well, Peter Pevensie," Edmund breathed, "As well as could be expected."

Those words echoed in his ears. Aslan's hot, soothing breath upon the back of his neck as he chastised and congradulated. His father's gentle and seemingly wise words as he confided in the man Peter was becoming, in this world anyways. Yes, he had done well, but he could have done better.

"I was so ashamed, Ed." His lips trembled. As a Narnian king, he would not have hesitated before pouring his emotions out in front of his brother. But this was England now and any real Briton boy never shed a useless tear.

"You sat in front of that carving for hours." And he had stared at the likeness of Aslan as though it could understand everything pouring from his gaze. That was ridiculous, he knew, to think a piece of stone could understand. But, Edmund had understood most of it. "Most were frightened of the Magnificent King sitting stalk still for no apparent reason. I told them you were best left alone."

Because this was hardly true, Peter let loose a quick bark of laughter. "I wasn't alone. I never was. I suppose I was…" he hesitated to use the word in this world, lest he be mocked, "praying."

Thankfully, his brother did not draw back at the word. "'May Aslan be with us always, in all things.'" The younger boy kicked his feet and his heels barely skimmed the carpet. He frowned distastefully at his shoes. Even for the short period of time, Narnia had influenced him--and his height. Peter chuckled beside him, knowingly, and Ed smiled a rueful smile. "He is always faithful," the boy's voice held an echo of the clever judge he'd been before, "even when our faith is lacking."

The High King over all Kings in Narnia breathed in slowly, then coughed. The air was stifling here. So unlike Narnia's pure crisp air. "Aslan told me there would be a greater test of faith in this world; that I needed to know him better here. I promised I would find him. He told me it would be harder to believe it was him."

Edmund blinked. "He's here, then?

Peter nodded slowly and quoted, "'In a form familiar to you and your kind, Son of Adam and Daughter of Eve.'"

"Not a lion?" Confusion whirled as Edmund attempted to make sense of this new information.

"I'm not sure," Peter admitted, a tad bit disconcerted. "I think I have a vague idea of who he could be. Perhaps that is what he meant by it being harder to believe it was him..." the fair-haired brother mused, laying his forehead against the cool glass of the window. "It certainly makes sense, but it seems so obvious."

Edmund stared. "Peter?"

Suddenly, the elder boy leaned forward, his knees touching Edmund's, and took his brother's hands. The boy in Edmund wanted to jerk away, but Peter held fast. "I promise I'll be better this year, Ed. I swear it to you. By Aslan's mane, I swear it."

"O-kay, Pete-ah." Edmund was a little taken aback at his brother's behaviour.

But Peter was smiling widely. "And I'll keep my promise to Aslan. I'll find him here and know him here. And I'll show him to you and to Susan and to Lucy and Mum and Dad and-" He was so ecstatic with joy, he could hardly contain himself. He leapt to his feet, dragging Edmund along with him and danced a few Narnian steps around the small compartment, whistling a Faun's cheery tune.

Unable to resist, Edmund joined him.

And for Aslan! reverberated in their memories.

"For what if some were without faith? Does their unbelief nullify God's faithfulness? Certainly not! Let God be proven true."
-Romans 3:3