The Crystal Mirror
Chapter 1: The Garden
It had been three years. Threes years since the fall of Metatron, Lord Regent. Three years since Lord Asriel and Mrs. Coulter had sent themselves plunging into the abyss. Three years since a simple kiss had saved all the universes. And three years since two friends and lovers had been thrust apart by the forces of the two universes they dubbed home. But it had also been three years since a simple smith by the name of Kerry Johnson had quit his low-paying career to create something… to create a mirror.
The sunlight streamed across the expanse of the Botanic Garden, traversing backward as morning became noon. It cast its rays upon a young girl, skirt neatly folded beneath her, sitting on the old bench in the middle of all the greenery.
She held something clothed in black velvet to her breast, hot tears rolling down her face.
A red-gold marten sat at her feet, tail wrapped around its paws gracefully.
"Lyra! Lyra!"
The girl looked up at once, her gaze full of despair. She mouthed something slowly, teardrops splattering to the ground.
"Will… Will…"
The marten cast her a saddened glance and said, "Dame Hannah is waiting."
Lyra nodded. Dame Hannah and the bording school had agreed (after much teary-eyed pleading) to let her go to the Botanic Garden once a year without supervision. But she could only spend an hour there, and though that was all she really needed, it seemed to fly by like a minute.
"I know, Pan. It's just…"
Pantalaimon understood. He felt the same way about Kirjava that she felt about Will. And knowing they were so close comforted him.
Lyra reached out one more time, touching the air where Will's face would have been… in another world.
"Lyra!"
The girl jumped off the bench and grasped Pan, walking out of the garden, all the while thinking about the miserable ride back to the bording school.
***
But what Lyra didn't know was that at that very moment, a man in his late twenties was cackling with pleasure.
"It's done." He whispered, finally lowering his head and ending his laughter, a barbaric smile plastered across his features.
"The mirror is done!" he howled, rubbing his filthy hands together. His daemon, a loud hyena, nudged his leg in happiness.
"We've just made the greatest scientific discovery ever!"
The man had serious doubts about that fact, but nonetheless it sent his heart soaring. And he bent down to pick up the slick piece of crystal.
"I must be careful, Decima. One wrong move and the frail thing could shatter."
Decima acknowledged his words wearily, and stepped aside to let him pass, the man practically vibrating with joy. He placed the flat crystal circle down on one of the shelves. Then he set to work, putting it securely in a brass frame, more durable then gold or silver but also much rougher and less beautiful looking. It didn't matter. It was still the mirror.
Then he held it up by the handle and clapped his hands. Decima barked with happy laughter, her shrill cry piercing.
"We've done it, Kerry!" she said between hysteric giggles.
"Yes, we have!" said Kerry, bending low to stare into the crystal's clear depths.
***
Lyra Silvertongue lay in her bed at Romulsa Boarding School For Girls. Her blankets were pulled up to the nape of her neck as she tossed and turned, Pantalaimon sitting on a stool nearby, watching her helplessly as she had a dream. The same terror she felt engulfed him and he wondered desperately what she was dreaming.
In fact, Lyra was not having a dream. She was having a nightmare. Back when she was eleven, so young and courageous, she'd had a nightmare. It was when she'd switched all the daemon coins underneath the skulls in the Master's tomb. Pan had begged her not to do it, and when she waked up scared stiff, she'd switched them back immediately, apologizing frantically. This dream was a lot like that except it was a lot different, too.
Blackness was everywhere, and Lyra walked. She heard footsteps behind her, but she daren't turn around to see what it was. She just kept moving, her pace becoming faster and faster as the footsteps got louder and louder. Then suddenly she could see a bright surface. She hurried to it, coming close enough to see exactly what it was.
It was a mirror, and she could see her own reflection in it. Silently, she marveled at how grown-up she looked. She hadn't looked in a mirror for a long while, contrary to the other girls at Romsula. But as she stared harder into its depths, a face began to appear. She gasped.
It was the face of Will exactly how she remembered him, except older in a way. His face was more narrow, his eyebrows more slanted. His hair was a bit longer, too, a bedraggled look. But his eyes… They still held the fierce pure gaze he wore long ago. He was still her Will.
But just as soon as the image appeared it was gone and replaced by a scary man, young but so aged. He had a ragged beard and a flat skinny face. And his eyes were a pale blue. In the background, Lyra could almost see the form of his daemon, the shape of a queer dog. But she didn't care about that anymore. She wanted to see Will's face again.
And then something very frightening happened. The man's face melted away to show a skull, blood trickling out of its eye sockets and mouth. A serpent wriggled in and out of the openings, its scaly skin a pale white. And a black rat sat on top of the skull. It whispered something in a quiet voice. It said:
"Death can occur to people even when they're alive…"
The image stayed there long enough for Lyra to see the powerful snake lunge at the rat.
She awoke, screaming. Pan leaped toward her at once and she caught him, holding him tight to her chest. He breathed in the warm scent of her flesh and listened to her wondorous heartbeat.
"Lyra… Lyra… what was it? What happened?"
"Oh, Pan. It was just too much. Too much! There was a mirror and a snake and a rat. Oh, an Will! He was there. He looked so different, but he was still Will. He en't no one else. He's Will!"
Pantalaimon listened to her throaty rasping cries as she pressed him to her, more tears dripping out of her eyes and landing on his fur, seeping into his skin.
The daemon waited patientally for his human to calm down before asking her again. She told him truthfully, leaving nothing out, not even the footsteps. And the serious look Pan gave her was worse than anything. What could the dream mean?
"About the mirror. You saw faces in it?"
"Yeah. Will's face then a weird man then that skull…" Another sob shook her frame. And what was weird was she didn't even know why she was crying. About the dream? The skull? The footsteps? Then the sun came out and she let herself tremble in sorrow. Will…
Pantalaimon looked at her sympathetically. "D'you want to try sleep again? You need it. We got a big test tomorrow."
Lyra dreaded closing her eyes again, but the sense in Pan's words ebbed into her body like heat did when you came in from the cold. Slowly, but in a way that helped and gratified you. She nodded once then layed her head on the pillow, letting Pan curl up in front of her face.
"D'you think, Pan, we'll ever see them again?" There was no need to fill in the them. Pan understood perfectly. He was her after all.
Beady eyes turned toward her and he whispered:
"Yes. We will. When we die, for sure. But other than that, I can't say."
Lyra smiled a little, and comforted by Pan's words, she drifted off into a peaceful, dreamless slumber.