In The Silver Chair, Rilian, the son of Caspian the Explorer, was born to be king of Narnia. This was his birthright, and a joy both for him and for a Narnia that was still in its first generation of unification. His father was the man of two worlds, who could therefore lead them both, ruling by the gift of the High King, the election of Aslan, and law of the Telmarines.

Since ancient times, Christians have referred to the church as a ship: specifically, as Noah’s ark, in which God’s faithful are being saved from the destruction of the world. This is why the bulk of a church is called a nave, from Latin navis, meaning “ship.” And so it is fitting that the Narnian book devoted specifically to considering the progress of the Christian life should be about a sea voyage.

In Prince Caspian, we return to Narnia 1300 years after we last left it. And so, unsurprisingly, we find the world greatly changed: Cair Paravel, once on a peninsula, is now on an island. The River Rush has carved a deep gorge for itself. But the biggest change is that it is now the country of the Telmarines.

I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve heard people remark on a snowy landscape that it is like Narnia. I get it: when we first cross into Narnia, it is snowy, and the snow gets attached to that first enchantment of finding yourself in a new world and meeting a faun there. But we should be careful: wintry Narnia is cursed Narnia.

Famously, time doesn’t run true between our world and Narnia. A year in our world might be three years in Narnia, or it might be 1300. There is no discernible relationship, no way to tell how much time will have passed since your last visit, nor are there any factors that can be identified to determine why this amount rather than that amount of time has passed.