Lyra was dumbstruck. This was the sillan? She looked all around
her.
The ground shined with brilliance as, as what shone on it? Lyra looked up at the sky, careful to keep her hood on. She stared in astonishment.
It was as if the entire sky was the northern lights! It was brighter though, and the color was defused into a light blue, but it was constantly moving and changing. It was bright enough to be mistaken for a summer sky, but you could distinctly see the movement and different colors.
The man looked at Lyra,
"What, have you never looked up? Or are you new? You must be. Well, just to get on good terms, my formal name is Sir Richardson. You may address me as this."
Lyra merely nodded her head. She was so overwhelmed with where she was, all around her was pain and horror. When she finally looked down, upon the horizon, Lyra could see a second building.
She waved to the man and said a "thank you" in her fake cackled voice. She began hobbling toward the building, uncertain about it, but decided it must be better than here. But the man grabbed her by the arm.
"You don't want to do that! Believe me, I have tried. No man nor woman can get passed that wall. See that glistening disturbance in the air, it is barely visible. It's the wall that ensures no one leaves. Your daemon will be killed if you go through there. Look on my upper left ear. You see that metal earring? Since your daemon and you have a connection, it uses that little energy the connection produces and makes it tremendous, and your daemon will be killed with the first step you take outside the barrier. You have one also. I have seen many men die this way. Don't do it, please, I couldn't bare another loss."
Lyra shook off his hand from her arm. She had already planned out what she was going to do.
"Child, I h-have lived longer than you know. I am a v-very old witch, it is m-my time to go. No more sorrow. I-if I do make it through, I am headed for that b-building. Wish me luck, child."
Sir Richardson looked sad and doubtful, but respected Lyra. Lyra hobbled toward the wall, and got ready to walk through.
A few guards of the sillan laughed at her, then went back to their rounds, no one watched.
Lyra burst through the wall, and saw the building was a lot closer than what had appeared from the sillan. She looked back at the sillan, and it appeared far away! Lyra was confused at this, but merely started walking the 300 to 500 yards to the building.
The road there wasn't chrome, in fact, the land outside the sillan was like a desert. Endless plains of dirt and dust surrounded her. Lyra looked at her watch, to see if anything was different about it.
When she had, the needles were turning randomly, pointing one way, pointing the other, violently swinging from side to side at a quickened pace. It looks like this place was timeless also.
Lyra took off the heavy cloak that concealed her, and stuffed it in her rucksack. But as she did, she accidentally put her fingers in her secret compartment, it must have been unzipped. She felt the icy gold of the alethiometer, and smiled to herself as she pulled it out.
Running her hands over the intricate designs, the beautiful crystal, and heavy gold. She felt a faint familiar sensation, resembling that of when she could read the instrument without books, or even memory, just feeling.
For some reason, the thought of Lyra's father popped into her head. Someone that should be worrying about her now. Or even her mother. One that did care, but sacrificed it for a universe. Lyra didn't cry. She didn't weep any more about them, they did it on their own free will. And it was best they did. It was best that her mother and father sacrificed their lives to kill an angel.
To kill an angel.
Lyra laughed at herself and how ridiculous that sounded, but she knew the seriousness behind the matter, she wasn't ignorant.
'On the road again,' She thought. Wasn't it only a week or so ago that she was happy to be on such a journey? Look where she ended up, in a timeless desert, alone.
Lyra played soccer with the pebbles on the ground. Yes, she was on the road again, she was on her way again, she was on a road to change. For bad or for good? Who knows. She didn't care really, as long as it was away from that horrifying place. She felt a little difficult for leaving that man behind, but what could she do?
"Yes, what could the great Lyra, Eve, do about a poor man?" Lyra looked up, alarmed.
And who stood in front of her? Actually, who sat in front of her?
Pantalaimon, and Lyra could tell, he was smiling.
The ground shined with brilliance as, as what shone on it? Lyra looked up at the sky, careful to keep her hood on. She stared in astonishment.
It was as if the entire sky was the northern lights! It was brighter though, and the color was defused into a light blue, but it was constantly moving and changing. It was bright enough to be mistaken for a summer sky, but you could distinctly see the movement and different colors.
The man looked at Lyra,
"What, have you never looked up? Or are you new? You must be. Well, just to get on good terms, my formal name is Sir Richardson. You may address me as this."
Lyra merely nodded her head. She was so overwhelmed with where she was, all around her was pain and horror. When she finally looked down, upon the horizon, Lyra could see a second building.
She waved to the man and said a "thank you" in her fake cackled voice. She began hobbling toward the building, uncertain about it, but decided it must be better than here. But the man grabbed her by the arm.
"You don't want to do that! Believe me, I have tried. No man nor woman can get passed that wall. See that glistening disturbance in the air, it is barely visible. It's the wall that ensures no one leaves. Your daemon will be killed if you go through there. Look on my upper left ear. You see that metal earring? Since your daemon and you have a connection, it uses that little energy the connection produces and makes it tremendous, and your daemon will be killed with the first step you take outside the barrier. You have one also. I have seen many men die this way. Don't do it, please, I couldn't bare another loss."
Lyra shook off his hand from her arm. She had already planned out what she was going to do.
"Child, I h-have lived longer than you know. I am a v-very old witch, it is m-my time to go. No more sorrow. I-if I do make it through, I am headed for that b-building. Wish me luck, child."
Sir Richardson looked sad and doubtful, but respected Lyra. Lyra hobbled toward the wall, and got ready to walk through.
A few guards of the sillan laughed at her, then went back to their rounds, no one watched.
Lyra burst through the wall, and saw the building was a lot closer than what had appeared from the sillan. She looked back at the sillan, and it appeared far away! Lyra was confused at this, but merely started walking the 300 to 500 yards to the building.
The road there wasn't chrome, in fact, the land outside the sillan was like a desert. Endless plains of dirt and dust surrounded her. Lyra looked at her watch, to see if anything was different about it.
When she had, the needles were turning randomly, pointing one way, pointing the other, violently swinging from side to side at a quickened pace. It looks like this place was timeless also.
Lyra took off the heavy cloak that concealed her, and stuffed it in her rucksack. But as she did, she accidentally put her fingers in her secret compartment, it must have been unzipped. She felt the icy gold of the alethiometer, and smiled to herself as she pulled it out.
Running her hands over the intricate designs, the beautiful crystal, and heavy gold. She felt a faint familiar sensation, resembling that of when she could read the instrument without books, or even memory, just feeling.
For some reason, the thought of Lyra's father popped into her head. Someone that should be worrying about her now. Or even her mother. One that did care, but sacrificed it for a universe. Lyra didn't cry. She didn't weep any more about them, they did it on their own free will. And it was best they did. It was best that her mother and father sacrificed their lives to kill an angel.
To kill an angel.
Lyra laughed at herself and how ridiculous that sounded, but she knew the seriousness behind the matter, she wasn't ignorant.
'On the road again,' She thought. Wasn't it only a week or so ago that she was happy to be on such a journey? Look where she ended up, in a timeless desert, alone.
Lyra played soccer with the pebbles on the ground. Yes, she was on the road again, she was on her way again, she was on a road to change. For bad or for good? Who knows. She didn't care really, as long as it was away from that horrifying place. She felt a little difficult for leaving that man behind, but what could she do?
"Yes, what could the great Lyra, Eve, do about a poor man?" Lyra looked up, alarmed.
And who stood in front of her? Actually, who sat in front of her?
Pantalaimon, and Lyra could tell, he was smiling.
