A sinister grey sky hung disconsolately above a gradually growing silhouette. A somewhat tall man was slowly walking on the sidewalk, the occasional gravel crunching under his feet. He seemed out of place in this town, the air around him seemed to be whispering over and over again: "stranger, stranger, stranger', and he was a stranger indeed. Stelmaria, his snow leopard daemon, was stealthily walking at his side, ready to protect him from any danger.
Asriel continued slowly walking, his hands deep in the warm pockets of his expensive designer jacket. His piercing blue eyes scanned the cheap, ratty neighborhood, the dingy old housing complexes, the bits of rotten gum on the sidewalk, his mind filled with disgust. He noted the once colorful spray-painted grafitti above, as he walked under a damp bridge. He continued on, quickening his pace.
He finally reached a different part of the neighborhood, where there were tall, dilapidated apartment buildings. His hand had been gripping a small slip of paper, and he hastily pulled it out of his pocket. He read the faded address, reminiscing about the script-like penmanship, and remembering more and more memories about whose penmanship it was. A small, subtle smile crept along his face, crinkling the bottoms of his eyes. His daemon purred contentedly along with him, sensing his happiness. They walked up to the right building, recalling so many distant memories of the past.
Asriel opened the door, reliving everything that had happened no less than a year ago; the tinkling of the rusty bells as the door swung closed behind him, the ratty red carpet in the front of the lobby with the disfigured letters that read : WELCOME, the same balding receptionist, and the same mahogany grandfather clock. It was now five in the evening, and the ancient clock sang its song, chiming loudly. Asriel couldn't hold back another grin, and thought that if he ever smiled again in the next thirty minutes, his face would break. He usually didn't like smiles, at least, not smiles of pleasure. He usually thwarted or circumvented any sources of laughter, joy, or glee. He just didn't associate with "fun".
Anyways, he walked up to the desk, and from the clear frightened expression from the balding receptionist's face, courtesy of Stelmaria of course, the receptionist's sparrow daemon looked like a very nice snack…, he was clearly going to get his way. After about fifteen minutes of hurried conversation, the trembling man gave him a small key. He ran up the stairs, two by two, Stelmaria pouncing along behind him, and in no time, they reached the fourth floor. He made his way to room 84, and slowly fitted his key into the lock, and turned clockwise. He slowly, silently opened the door, and was shocked at what he saw.
The tasteful burgundy curtains had been replaced; now filmy pale yellow pieces of gossamer fabric gently swayed to the humming of a newly installed heater system. He looked around; the old brown loveseats and the rather nice black couch had been replaced with two pale green couches, and the intricately patterned old rug he got her from the North had been replaced by a new, powder blue carpet that had white circles dotting the edge. Instead of the fine radio he had given her several years ago as a Christmas gift, a strange black box with long sticks was sitting on the wooden cabinet. The walls were still white, but, they seemed whiter, brighter, perhaps. The whole room had transformed in the eight months that he had been gone.
Asriel didn't like change. At least, not when it was against him. He could be quite flexible with his coworkers, but, her? No, he couldn't stand it. Asriel hated it when she made decisions for herself. And, what with the new décor? Surely the furniture he had handpicked himself would do? It used to be a lovely, tasteful traditional room, with burgundy, and black, and brown, and now; it was airy and light and - different. Asriel was infuriated as he walked down the once familiar hallway, and his anger grew as he noted that his Northern tapestries had been replaced with what could hardly have been called paintings of blobs and lines and paint splatters. He went to the second door on the right, and opened it, automatically demanding an explanation.
But he was silenced. Stelmaria dug her claws into the white carpet. Asriel looked at the sleeping woman, her eyes closed, yet tiny light purple veins visible in her eye lids. He observed the gentle slope of her smooth cheek, down to her rounded chin, to her shapely neck. Her nose was also a gentle slope, and her almost-pouting, full scarlet red lips were the same as ever. Her infinitely soft blond hair was gently scattered around her face and the pillow, just yearning for him to stroke a strand. Her hands were tightly holding on to her blanket, which was now a pale green, he noted. However, one foot stuck out from under the covers. She seemed thinner though, paler, weaker. Was she ill? He gently coaxed the blanket down a bit, to cover her cold foot. A softer smile crept onto his face. Stelmaria was in awe of her master's emotions. Never before had she felt all these feelings course through her blood. She didn't know whether to enjoy it, or despise it. But her focus was different than Asriel's. Sleeping on a small doll bed next to the human bed, was Ozymandias, the golden monkey. His soft golden fur seemed to sparkle in the near darkness, shafts of invisible sunlight lighting up his silky long hair. His whole body was gently rising up, then falling down, in a rhythmic procession that somehow calmed her. Her claws contracted, and she too, felt like curling up and sleeping. The whole room was quite peaceful. But she had to stifle a yawn, her Master would notice. Then, her ears picked up another source of breathing. It was quite faint, not quite as loud as the monkey's breathing, but somehow softer, younger. She meowed quietly to draw her master's attention.
Speaking softly, she said: "Master, is there a child in this room?" Asriel whipped his head around to the right and saw the center of his nightmares, a crib. A small mobile was attached to the top, little animals swinging about in the air, hanging by white threads of string. There was a tiny leopard, a small monkey, and a tiny ferret like animal. Asriel's shock and confusion transformed into unbelievable anger.
"MARISA!" he screamed. He turned around, and saw her slowly yawn and stretch her arms. Then her eyes opened, and he was once again speechless. Her eyes, at least, were still the same. The same piercing green that had stolen his heart, and had yet to return it. "Oh, Ariel, must you always scream when you come visit?" She asked, her voice light and airy, just like the apartment. "Besides, you might wake the baby…" She added, quietly.
"Marisa Coulter," Asriel whispering fiercely, the last thing he wanted was a crying baby to remind him of its presence. "I thought you agreed to have an abortion! You know you can't raise a child at a time like this! I'm at the brink of discovering Dust! This is no time for parenting classes, and report card days, and sleepovers and such! What is this - abomination - doing in your apartment!"
Her whole face flushed pink. She fell silent. Then, in a tiny voice, she added, "I've always wanted to be a mother," seeing the expression on Asriel's face, she quickly added, "we could send her to the convent."
"No! I am not sending any child of mine to a convent! In fact, I'm outraged that I even have a child! Marisa, darling, I love you, and I don't want a child - changing that…"
Emotions flickered across Marisa's face, and then, her features were suddenly contorted with anger and frustration. Asriel was new to this side of her. But then, her features relaxed, and she seemed to be at calm once more.
"Lyra can strengthen our relationship!" She said, softly, coaxingly.
"You've already named it!" Asriel said, harshly.
"Asriel, Lyra's a girl, and she is my daughter now. Of course she has a name."
Asriel was about to pull his hair out. Slowly he walked over to the crib,and even more slowly, he peeked inside of it. His heart skipped a beat. Inside, was the most perfect creature that he had ever seen in his life. It was divine, no, she was divine. Almost exactly like her mother. Lyra had creamy soft skin, and he stroked her cheek oh so gently with his thumb. Her eyes were closed, and she was gently breathing, her little body rising up and down, hypnotizing him. Her lips were not scarlet like her mother's, but were a light pink, like a carnation, he thought. She was a miracle on Earth, a rare beautiful snowflake that didn't melt. He thought he was hallucinating, she was so - perfect. Her small, chubby arms were wrapped around another small sleeping creature. Her daemon in the shape of a small baby mink. Asriel forgot his anger and lowered his arms into the crib, and then, before he knew it, he was cradling her, and her daemon, in his arms.
Her eyes flickered open, and his piercing blue eyes were met by a light blue pair. She cooed and giggled under the eyes of this stranger, but happy all the same. Stelmaria's claws immediately clutched the carpet tightly, and her fur bristled unnaturally. The small ferret morphed into a brightly colored butterfly, and flitted around the strange man, finally settling on his shoulder, resting his wings. Then it morphed into a small cardinal, and then, quite quickly, into an ermine, and then slipped back into baby Lyra's arms. Asriel didn't really know what came over him next. He wrapped Lyra in her blanket, in some sort of paternal instinct. Marisa felt overjoyed, but mostly relieved. But then, her joy turned into horror when he bolted out of the door, with her baby in his arms. A scream filled the hall as Asriel ran down the stairs, fast but carefully, holding Lyra and her daemon.
Marisa tried running after him, but it was too late. Asriel had already called a taxi. And now, he, Stelmaria, little Lyra, and her daemon were sitting comfortably in the back seat of a warm cab, ignoring the outside world. He stroked her soft cheek once more, she was sleeping again, feeling safe in his arms.
"Now, what am I going to do with you?" He murmured to himself, caressing her soft blonde hair. "I certainly can't raise a child. I won't be able to watch over you. I can barely watch over myself." He added softly.
Suddenly, a brilliant idea came to his mind, and he quickly told the driver to change directions, and take him to the Jordan College.