War Of The Lights And Souls
The Draft For War
"Thank you for coming to see me Lord Thorold." The Master pours a glass of wine, one for himself one for Lord Thorold.
"No thank you," as he shoos away the glass of intoxicating fluid, "how can I be of service Master?"
The Master looks at the 57 year old man, the once manservant to Lord Asriel, Lyra's father who fell into the abyss with Mrs. Coulter and Metatron about 2 months ago. "Is everything alright Lord Thorold?"
Thorold wonders what the Master is hinting at, but he already knows the answer to that question.
"Yes Master, well almost everything," Master eyes signal him to continue on, "it's just that I'm not us to being served, having to work in politics."
"I understand. When Lord Asriel reported his case on Dust, he was under much stress himself…"
"Yah, with the Magisterium, but you know Master," Thorold quiets his voice, "don't forget who is still in charge of the government."
The Master sits back and sips his glass of golden liquor. "You support the Magisterium Lord Thorold?"
Lord Thorold stops moving and stands like a stone. "These are difficult times Master, you of course support the Magisterium?"
The Master thinks about the question and smiles. "Very good," the Master sits up, places the glass down and stands up slowly. "Lord Thorold, I know a lot about your last Master and how he does background checks with his manservant so feel free to be truthful with me."
Thorold is uneasy, like a politician caught in a lie. "I wasn't sure; you have to be careful what you say now these days."
"Take a seat Lord Thorold," says the Master as he pulls out a chair for him. Thorold looks at the chair then takes a seat. "As you may know, your last Master died off world…"
"I thought he abandoned our world for another that is what the Magisterium said." Thorold stops and thinks about what he just said.
"Like I said, he fell on a world where he combated the Magisterium, but all he did was halt the advance."
"What of Asriel's daughter?"
"Dear Lyra? Oh, she had gone off to St. Michael's Collage with Dame Hannah Relf to learn the arts of Alethiometry."
"Alethiometry," the Master nods gently. "I thought that field was banned by the Magisterium?"
"It has, but the Dame is willing to teach Lyra in secret while she goes to school."
Thorold pauses, thinking about all this then comes to a shocking curiosity. "Why are you telling me this Master?"
The Master picks up his cup, pours another glass and picks back up on where he left off. "When the Subtle Knife was destroyed by William Parry, we thought that would be the end of the interworld travel, but the Magisterium says that they have built a machine in London that can pass into worlds, but they face a problem."
Lord Thorold sits straight up in his chair listening with much interest, "what, what did they find?"
The Master places down the glass, "I don't know to be exact."
"Oh," he places down his glass and sits back in the seat. "What exactly could the Magisterium be creating to be so worried about?"
The Master walks over to his desk and takes a seat. "Do you know Teukrous?"
"Isn't he the one who has the Nightingale?"
"Yes, he has seen. Even Lyra has seen that something massive is being constructed in London, the Magisterium is mustering an army once again, but they might be planning to take their war to other worlds."
"I can see how this can be a problem, but if I was to give you a word, I would try to keep quiet about the Magisterium, and they don't take kind to treason."
The Master looks down at the papers in front of him and just gently nods. He is about to comment back, but a knock startles both the Master and Lord Thorold. The Master, feeling quite secure in his place here at Jordan Collage, that he freely calls out for there entrance.
"Sorry to interrupt you Master, but I have a message that is urgent." The messenger walks quickly over to the Master and hands him a message. The Master opens the message and reads it and frowns.
"Thank you Darail that will be it." Darail nods and bows to Lord Thorold and leaves and closes the door. The Master sighs, "This is what I feared."
Thorold gazes at the letter and then at the Master, "what, what does it say?"
"It says: 'As ordered by the glorious Magisterium, all men, women and children are subjected to background check and enrollment to active duty, those excluded are men and women over 70 years old, children below 10 years and those affiliated with the Magisterium. Those disobeying these orders will be subjected to arrest, prosecution and death.'" The Master crumples the orders and throws the paper against the wall.
"My God, when these orders hit the public, there will be mass rioting, violence!"
The Master, his face red just shakes his head. "You better go; the Magisterium will be looking for you." The Master looks at the crumpled orders, "are you going to honor those orders?"
Thorold looks at the crumpled, displaced orders and turns back to face the Master, his face is blank, but his eyes are affirming. "If I don't, they will kill me Master. I don't want to, but if I ignore the orders, I will be hunted and they will murder me. You know this, the Magisterium has a desired hatred for those who helped crumble the first army…they will be definitely after people like me, the Gyptain's even Lyra."
The Master's eyes flash at the sound of Lyra's name, "My God, Lyra!" The Master stands, but there comes a rush at the door and in rushes four Magisterium Soldiers holding riffles and as they take positions in the office, in walks a well dressed, well decorated individual being trailed by a desert coyote who slinks about analyzing the two gentlemen then heeling at her masters feet.
"Which one of you is Lord Thorold?"
Thorold's dæmon Anfang, a pinscher growls at the men and the well dressed man turns to face Thorold, "ah, I take it that you are Thorold?"
"Lord Thorold, at least honor me to state my title. Now tell me, who are you and what do you want with me?"
"I am to take you directly to London, to the Magisterium Office, your presence is requested."
Thorold looks at the Master then back at the officer, "when?"
"Now."
Thorold turns to look back at the Master then gathers his coat and joins the soldiers. As the door is shut, the Master stagers back to his desk and looks down at his desk. He turns to look at his dæmon; a black hawk swoops down and lands upon his shoulder.
"Now it begins," his dæmon speaks to him in her high screeching voice. "I know, the child, but I can't do anything, if the guards have found Lord Thorold, then they must have found Lyra."
The Master stands up as his dæmon takes back to the air, she flies about and as he slips on his scholar cloak and slips on his cap to go out, she lands back upon his shoulder and they both exit the office at Jordan Collage to travel off to St. Michael's Collage to find out what has become of Lyra.
When the Master of Jordan Collage reached the campus, he noticed that much of the campus was vacant.
"Where is everyone?" says the Master Dæmon as she flaps her wings upon his shoulder, careful not to brush too hard against his neck.
"I don't know." He stops and looks about the campus. He picks back up on walking and looks about for any of Dame Relf's students, but doesn't see anyone, not even scholars.
When he arrived at Dame Relf's office he lightly knocks at the door and to his surprise the door opens and its Dame Relf who appears to be worn out.
"You should have not came here." Says Mrs. Relf, her eyes fluttering like butterfly wings.
"Is everything alright Dame?" The Master looks about in her destroyed office, drawers open, cabinets overturned, and papers all over the floor.
Dame Relf lurches at the Master with much agility and cries out, "They got her Master, they got her, by God they found her and took her."
The Master looks directly into her eyes and sees the remorse emanating for her blue eyes.
"Well find her, I promised her safety and I am not going against my word."
Dame Relf had tears running her checks, but her voice was as shaky as can be. "But the Magisterium…"
"I know, we can't go directly, but I'll contact Mr. Basilides, hopefully he can be of some services to us." He releases her while his dæmon fights with her dæmon.
In London, the High Magisterium Councilor is reading over a report presented by the Commanding of the Northern Army. There came a knock at the door and as he looks up, his snake slithers back to him for protection.
In walks someone unimportant regarding his concern, but he has a girl under her arm.
"What is the meaning of this?" Extorts the councilor in a low rough voice.
"This is Lyra Belecqua, you remember Lord Asriel Belecqua…"
"Augh, the traitor, how dare you mention his name." The councilor throws his fist down, but then looks at the girl that brought the Magisterium to a sudden halt. "Lyra..." a smile creeps upon the old mans face as he folds his hands upon his desk, "I have been waiting to meet you for a long time."
Lyra fights against her captors as she turns a sharp eye at the councilor, "How dare you lay a hand upon me! Do you know what will happen when the Gyptian's find out?"
The councilor stands up and looks at Lyra, he is not angry, actually he is really calm. "I thought you might need a motivation to work with you. The councilor looks at a paper and turns back to face Lyra. "You might know a boy called Billy Costa?" Lyra stops struggling, her features break apart and the councilor smiles. "I thought so, if I was to tell you that Billy's life is in your hands, does that comfort you?"
Lyra looks up, a cold pain hits her stomach, but she can't tell if it's the fear for Billy or the fact that her Pan is being held captive by one of the guards. "What do you want?"
"It's good to see you're open to ideas," the councilor looks at a paper then looks back to Lyra. "What we want from you is you."
Lyra spats at him and returns a sharp look at him, "what if I refuse to do anything, what if I refuse to help?"
"If you refuse then there will be no sense of keeping the Gyptian boy alive." The councilor looks aver to one of the guards, "You sir, go and relieve the boy of his greater obligation."
"Yes sir."
Lyra looks at the guard and yells, "Wait!" The councilor raises his hand and all turn to face Lyra. "What do you want me to do?"
"You're the only one who can read the alethiometer on our world quickly, so you can give me some information I need to know." Lyra watches the councilor, while feeling her alethiometer in her pocket. "You'll go with the main army and you will report to me on the status of the war against other worlds."
"You can't go off world; you'll let the dust out and let the specters in!"
The councilor raises his hand for a second time and Lyra hushes once again. "I know all about the fact if you or I open a window between worlds, but we have a better way of traveling Miss Belecqua, so don't worry your self." The councilor looks up at the guard and relays orders to him, "Take our guest to one of our suites where she will remain until deployment."
"Yes sir." Looks at Lyra, "Miss, please follow me."
Lyra does as directed, not wanting to mess up, for if she does, it will cost Billy Costa's life. As they walk through a series of hallways until they reach the suite and there the guard ushers her in to await deployment.
Pantalaimon, a pine martin jumps upon Lyra's bed and looks meaningful at her, wondering what Lyra has in mind. "Are we going to escape?"
"To dangerous Pan, I'd do so, but Billy's life is in jeopardy. I'm afraid we have no choice this time, but we'll escape soon, only when we know we can comeback to rescue Billy." Lyra looks at Pan, who seems to be more, frighten then she is which seems to be customary in children dæmon's. "Oh Pan, we should have remained with the Gyptian's!"
"True, but we can't fret over this; we're going to be going into other worlds, committing acts of war against other people."
Lyra sits down on the bed next to Pan, she places her head in her hands and pouts, "Oh what should we do Pan?"
Pan crawls gently upon Lyra's lap and look at her, "we go to the other world, find someone who can help us, and we escape."
"What if we go to Cittàgazze, the specters?"
Pan nozzles up to her saying telepathically, "We'll survive, remember what Will mention, remember what Iorek said…be strong."
Lyra stops to think about Will, being back on his world, in a time where there is no Magisterium, no cruel society preparing to wage war upon another world. Then Lyra remembers how the world of Cittàgazze was so technologically advance then hers, what if they meet a time when humans are more brutal then the ideological Magisterium? As Lyra pulls out the alethiometer, sets the dials over three images, the Helmet, Moon and Hourglass, as the alethiometer responds back, its compass needle points over three images, the Baby, the Owl and the Hourglass.
