[He does. Francis continues toward the glow, his heart beating remarkably fast all of a sudden. He has so many different feelings about religion that it's only proper to believe he'd have the same feelings toward the being his religion is about. He swallows a little, and breathes in deeply to pull himself together, as he finally stands in front of the proud lion in front of him.

Then it occurs to him: What does one say to God?]

... alors... shall I call you Aslan, or... do you prefer another name?

[... yeah. Smooth move there, France.]