The Silver Mirror:
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this. Too bad for me.
Chapter One: The Mirror:
Will stared at the two mirrors he had forged. Delicately, he traced their swaying lines gently. One was silver, of the purest metals. The other was of base, dirty, soiled pine wood. Will himself had made sure of that. He had spent five years isolated at a mountain forge to train, and make the Mirrors. Oh, Dr. Malone and his mother hadn't protested. They'd thought he was going on vacation. He laughed mirthlessly. As if anyone could rest, after being with Lyra. It was as if they caught some disease that gave them restlessness.
But he was finally ready. Now, how had he done it again? He ran a filthy hand through his still golden brown hair, perplexed, and angry, with the kind of anger that went to the bottom of his stomach. He COULDN'T have gotten that far, only to lose his power, could he? No, he couldn't. He HAD to make it. Had to. This was his only chance to see Lyra again. He raised his hand to begin the Seeing, and stopped.
Kirjava leapt to his shoulder, and nestled against him comfortingly. "Miss Pan." She whispered softly. He smiled at her, a long, bitter smile. "Yes," he said. "I know. But what about Lilian?" "Don't pay attention to her!" cried Kirjava, so close to being with her own mate again. "She was only for a short time, trust me. Remember the Chronicles of Narnia?" Will frowned, unsure of what that had to do with their current subject.
"What of it?" he demanded, piqued. Kirjava shook her furry head. "You should have paid more attention. Our link is not as strong as it would be in Lyra's world, nor as it would be if you had not gone into the ghost world. But that's different. Anyway," she added hastily, as she began to catch signs of Will's ominous frown. "Lilian was Adam's mate for a while-" "Wife." Corrected Will gently, and laughed. Kirjava glared. "Mate." She said firmly, and continued. "She gave birth to all the monsters in the world that Adam was also father to."
Will laughed again, a hoarse, painful, almost-cry that made his daemon flinch. "I am THIS close to Lyra, and all you can speak of, are demons? Forget it, I'm going forwards with this." He touched the silver mirror imperatively. "Mirror, wake." The silver mirror began shimmering. Impulsively, he grabbed the wooden glass and stuffed it into a travel bag that he had left prepared, five years ago.
The mirror must've finally "woke", because a beautiful, chiming, but metallic voice asked "Your wish?" "Open the way to Lyra's world, so that I may get through, but not let the Specters harm anyone."
"Impossible." The word rang out, and Will's world spun around him. He had labored for five years. For this? "Then what?" he asked, half laughing, half sobbing his disappointment, like a child. "You may ask for the knife back." Said the mirror. Will straightened. He had thought of that, but it had seemed too risky. But now Lyra's closeness taunted him, waved in front of him like a set of bait.
"Yes." Kirjava murmured. "Yes." Will looked at his sleek daemon. Oh well. It was, after all, Lyra. He nodded. The mirror must've sensed it, because the knife appeared in his hand. He looked at it in mild surprise. It was, once again, whole, and fitted his hand as if molded for it. Without warning, and with Kirjava on his shoulder, he cut an opening into Lyra's world, and stepped into it. They both vanished. All that remained was a little silver mirror on the table.
Will's World:
Will's mother opened her eyes. "Will!" she wailed. Her yells echoed down the halls, waking a particularly irritable Mary Malone. She stormed into Will's mother's room. "What on the bloody earth is going on at this hour?" she yelled as well, cutting Mrs. Parry off. Mrs Parry turned her bloodshot eyes to Mary. "My Will." She sighed, and began crying. "What is wrong with Will?" asked Mary, half amused at the older woman's fantasies, half fearing them.
"My Will's gone."
Lyra's World:
Serafina Pekkala opened her eyes from her meditation of the earth. She was the earth, felt the earth's veins, felt the earth's skin cracking open, letting Dust forth from it. .
She gasped, tumbling from her levitating position. Either someone was meddling with the rules of physics, or. .
"The knife." She murmured softly.
And the reason for all the chaos, all the over-throwing of everything? She was sleeping on a couch in the Academy, having cried herself to sleep after sitting for nearly a day on a park bench in the botanic gardens, once a day each year, for nearly five years. And never once in those five years had she ever sensed Will again.
The Ghost World:
Mrs. Coulter was 4,386,531,987st in line to be let through. At least, that's what the lower harpies cackled. Gracious Wings was no longer there, at least, not for adult ghosts. She was always in the teenage girls line, helping little things that looked like Lyra through. The harpies with names were allowed to have positions. Special ones, like Gracious Wings'. But they weren't allowed to ask for names. And since only a handful of people knew, there obviously weren't going to be a lot of Great Harpies like Gracious Wings.
But she didn't want to die completely yet. And she knew just how to accomplish it. She turned to the bored looking harpy serving her. "Hello, I will be your tour guide, and will guide you to-" "How would you like a name?" interrupted Mrs. Coulter brusquely. Not her usual style, but nevertheless. The harpy suddenly looked a lot more interested. "Yes?" she asked expectantly. Mrs. Coulter began to explain, her brain scrambling for more lies. But one thing was for sure. She was going to stay alive.
REVIEW!! REVIEW!! REVIEW!! REVIEW!! REVIEW!! REVIEW!! YAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
Sorry, just hyper. But plz review anyway. I don't care if you flame, I just want reviews! PLZ!
~Trisani
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this. Too bad for me.
Chapter One: The Mirror:
Will stared at the two mirrors he had forged. Delicately, he traced their swaying lines gently. One was silver, of the purest metals. The other was of base, dirty, soiled pine wood. Will himself had made sure of that. He had spent five years isolated at a mountain forge to train, and make the Mirrors. Oh, Dr. Malone and his mother hadn't protested. They'd thought he was going on vacation. He laughed mirthlessly. As if anyone could rest, after being with Lyra. It was as if they caught some disease that gave them restlessness.
But he was finally ready. Now, how had he done it again? He ran a filthy hand through his still golden brown hair, perplexed, and angry, with the kind of anger that went to the bottom of his stomach. He COULDN'T have gotten that far, only to lose his power, could he? No, he couldn't. He HAD to make it. Had to. This was his only chance to see Lyra again. He raised his hand to begin the Seeing, and stopped.
Kirjava leapt to his shoulder, and nestled against him comfortingly. "Miss Pan." She whispered softly. He smiled at her, a long, bitter smile. "Yes," he said. "I know. But what about Lilian?" "Don't pay attention to her!" cried Kirjava, so close to being with her own mate again. "She was only for a short time, trust me. Remember the Chronicles of Narnia?" Will frowned, unsure of what that had to do with their current subject.
"What of it?" he demanded, piqued. Kirjava shook her furry head. "You should have paid more attention. Our link is not as strong as it would be in Lyra's world, nor as it would be if you had not gone into the ghost world. But that's different. Anyway," she added hastily, as she began to catch signs of Will's ominous frown. "Lilian was Adam's mate for a while-" "Wife." Corrected Will gently, and laughed. Kirjava glared. "Mate." She said firmly, and continued. "She gave birth to all the monsters in the world that Adam was also father to."
Will laughed again, a hoarse, painful, almost-cry that made his daemon flinch. "I am THIS close to Lyra, and all you can speak of, are demons? Forget it, I'm going forwards with this." He touched the silver mirror imperatively. "Mirror, wake." The silver mirror began shimmering. Impulsively, he grabbed the wooden glass and stuffed it into a travel bag that he had left prepared, five years ago.
The mirror must've finally "woke", because a beautiful, chiming, but metallic voice asked "Your wish?" "Open the way to Lyra's world, so that I may get through, but not let the Specters harm anyone."
"Impossible." The word rang out, and Will's world spun around him. He had labored for five years. For this? "Then what?" he asked, half laughing, half sobbing his disappointment, like a child. "You may ask for the knife back." Said the mirror. Will straightened. He had thought of that, but it had seemed too risky. But now Lyra's closeness taunted him, waved in front of him like a set of bait.
"Yes." Kirjava murmured. "Yes." Will looked at his sleek daemon. Oh well. It was, after all, Lyra. He nodded. The mirror must've sensed it, because the knife appeared in his hand. He looked at it in mild surprise. It was, once again, whole, and fitted his hand as if molded for it. Without warning, and with Kirjava on his shoulder, he cut an opening into Lyra's world, and stepped into it. They both vanished. All that remained was a little silver mirror on the table.
Will's World:
Will's mother opened her eyes. "Will!" she wailed. Her yells echoed down the halls, waking a particularly irritable Mary Malone. She stormed into Will's mother's room. "What on the bloody earth is going on at this hour?" she yelled as well, cutting Mrs. Parry off. Mrs Parry turned her bloodshot eyes to Mary. "My Will." She sighed, and began crying. "What is wrong with Will?" asked Mary, half amused at the older woman's fantasies, half fearing them.
"My Will's gone."
Lyra's World:
Serafina Pekkala opened her eyes from her meditation of the earth. She was the earth, felt the earth's veins, felt the earth's skin cracking open, letting Dust forth from it. .
She gasped, tumbling from her levitating position. Either someone was meddling with the rules of physics, or. .
"The knife." She murmured softly.
And the reason for all the chaos, all the over-throwing of everything? She was sleeping on a couch in the Academy, having cried herself to sleep after sitting for nearly a day on a park bench in the botanic gardens, once a day each year, for nearly five years. And never once in those five years had she ever sensed Will again.
The Ghost World:
Mrs. Coulter was 4,386,531,987st in line to be let through. At least, that's what the lower harpies cackled. Gracious Wings was no longer there, at least, not for adult ghosts. She was always in the teenage girls line, helping little things that looked like Lyra through. The harpies with names were allowed to have positions. Special ones, like Gracious Wings'. But they weren't allowed to ask for names. And since only a handful of people knew, there obviously weren't going to be a lot of Great Harpies like Gracious Wings.
But she didn't want to die completely yet. And she knew just how to accomplish it. She turned to the bored looking harpy serving her. "Hello, I will be your tour guide, and will guide you to-" "How would you like a name?" interrupted Mrs. Coulter brusquely. Not her usual style, but nevertheless. The harpy suddenly looked a lot more interested. "Yes?" she asked expectantly. Mrs. Coulter began to explain, her brain scrambling for more lies. But one thing was for sure. She was going to stay alive.
REVIEW!! REVIEW!! REVIEW!! REVIEW!! REVIEW!! REVIEW!! YAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
Sorry, just hyper. But plz review anyway. I don't care if you flame, I just want reviews! PLZ!
~Trisani
