Will looked around his small home one last time, and stepped out into the cool dawn air. He did not know why he was doing this; he just knew he had to leave. It killed him that he was confined to this lonely world; that he must go alone through his life without his darling Lyra, his beautiful Kirjava, even his dear mother. But he could not leave this world to find them; even if he could find an alternative to the Knife, he could not risk releasing more Spectres.

Pulling his small backpack further onto his shoulder, he set off towards the highway which led to the vast fields, his home while he travelled. As he thought of his Lyra, he touched the locket he kept around his neck. It was wrong, he knew, but he had to have a part of her with him. As he crossed the deserted highway and pushed through the hedge, he sank to the floor and carefully opened the locket. Inside, he knew, despite its impossibility in this world, was a small lock of Pantalaimon's red-gold fur. The only part of Lyra he still hard, besides the love which would always live in his heart.

He knew Mary would worry, but that was not important. He could not rely on her forever, he realised that now. She had her own life now, a husband, a baby on the way; she didn't need to look after Will too. He had been careful to make sure she wouldn't worry too much. She wouldn't notice for a few days; they didn't see each other as often anymore. And when she did realise, he had left a note. He was 18, it's not like she could stop him. And his note had sufficiently expressed his feelings:

Mary,

I'm sorry but I can't take it anymore.

I have to leave. I don't know where I will go,

but I can't stay anymore. I can not pretend to

live a normal life without my two loves. I am

sorry to do this, but I can not live like this. I

will contact you when I can.

Will

x

Taking a bottle of water out of his pack, he closed his eyes, watching the familiar image dance behind his eyelids. He smiled sadly as Lyra leaned forward through the window. Absently, he touched the spot where her tear had lingered on his cheek, now wet with his own. He pulled his backpack back onto his shoulder and, sighing deeply, set off around the perimeter of the field.

He had lied when he told Mary he did not know where he would travel, but he could not risk her bringing him back. He would travel to the place where he felt closest to his other-world friends and his only love, besides their bench at the Botanical Gardens. He would travel to the North. But first, he decided, he would go to their bench for one last goodbye. Tears still rolling down his cheeks, he changed direction and set off towards the Botanical Gardens.

When he reached the Gardens he saw that the gates were locked, it was only 7; no one would be there for another two hours. Good, he thought as he scaled the wrought iron fence. It would give him some peace. As he sank onto the bench, he let the tears begin to flow freely. If he closed his eyes, he could almost feel Lyra's presence beside him. Great, heaving sobs took over his body as he cried; cried for his Lyra Belacqua and little Pan, cried for Serafina Pekkala and Kaisa, for Lee Scoresby and Iorek Byrnison, for Lord Asriel and Mrs Coulter, for his mother and father. But most of all he cried for his dear sweet Kirjava.