The Gilded Fate
Chapter 1: Torn Hearts
A/N: If it echoes some parts of The Amber Spyglass, it is completely unintentional. Don't worry, the plots are totally different, I just had to have Will start his journey at some point or another.
Spoilers: The Golden Compass (or Northern Lights in the UK), The Subtle Knife, and, for all storytelling purposes, the events in The Amber Spyglass never happened. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Philip Pullman, various publishers including, but not limited to, Random House Publishing Incorporated, Scholastic Books, Alfred A. Knoft Books for Young Readers Incorporated, David Fickling Books, Yearling Publishing, Del Rey Books, and Dell Publishing. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
"The past is set in stone. only we don't know what's set there."
~ Megan Whaley
All legends have a basis in some sort of reality; whether it be one event very much morphed or several events rolled into one. From both situations, all realities become fade into a history. That history of events are interpreted and spread throughout a land. Once interpreted, many of those histories with similar patterns are pieced together in a mosaic fashion, exaggerated, and elaborated until that history weaves itself into a newer story. The story loses much of its original details and gains new embellished details and ideas to shift itself into the world of myth. Finally, the myth, with its generalities in places that once were detailed and details where it was once vague turns into a great and famous legend.
This is the relation of one such reality, one that we all know and love as the world of Will and Lyra and their fate.
~
It was a hard cold aura that floated around the silence of the cave. If one had not been part of the events in the situation, the sadness would have touched the innermost depths of the soul. No giddy chirping of birds or their sweet songs echoed from that place. It was as if the area drowned in the boy's sorrow. Whatever had really happened, the angels knew the boy was special.
The boy, however, did not. He sat on the floor - not exactly sprawled - and clutched Lyra's bag towards his chest. Will was oblivious to all that surrounded him. It had been around a week since Lyra's disappearance and the bene elim were worried. They had good reason to be. Will still stood in the same mood, same posture, same expression, same everything, as that fateful minute so many days ago.
The Watchers exchanged glances that, if translated, held messages and stories pages long of such happenings. They knew why Will was so traumatized, he had lost two people important to his young life in such a short span of time. Fate had been cruel; he lost his long-lost father in the same moment that he knew he was his father. The father that he never quite known but had always loved. Moments later, he now lost Lyra. Lyra was the girl that he met and shared adventures with, and now that she was gone, he knew something else. He had lost the girl that he did not even know he loved until she was lost.
The angels did not worry over issues such as these, but the song of pain he brought forth was too great for them to ignore. They shook their heads. The remaining witches had long since gone but sent their regards to the boy of the Chosen One. The boy was special to them too, but in a different light and with different standards. They would watch him from afar as they had their work to do and the bene elim had theirs.
In the inebriated state that the boy of the Chosen One was in, he was worthless to the world. Will's antics as of this time slowed the process of the mission down quite a bit.
They had no choice but to talk to him that night.
"Will. Come on. We must move tonight."
Sadly, Will shook his head in dissent. Lyra was gone. She was in the hands of the very people he had to protect her against. His father was dead. He had spent so many years of his life looking for his father, and now all of his aspirations came down to this. Both gone on the same day. Of the three people important to him, two were now gone and one was alone in a completely different world. His heart screamed against the torment.
Will's hands clenched Lyra's bag tighter. Somehow, maybe, if by believing she was there, he could get her to come back. He took great gulps of air, as if breathing it where she once was would bring that little part of her back to him. Will knew she was gone even before the Watchers had come to him. He saw it in their eyes, their emptiness. It was as if the joy that was Lyra had gone from this world and into the next with her mother.
For it was her mother that was keeping her captive; he knew that much already. The half-witches told him so. At least he knew that slightly less harm would come to her in the hands of her own mother. if he could even be sure of that in his reasoning. Now he only came to one more conclusion. He had to save Lyra. And if that meant ripping through several worlds to do it.
He gripped the handle of the subtle knife strapped to his belt, and his eyes narrowed. Some signal set the Watchers off and they reacted with an alarming swiftness by grabbing his shoulders and pinning his arms to his sides. However, it was too late. He had already struck.
The delicate fabric of another world was exposed with the window near his head.
Tormented, Will shrieked, writhing in their grasp. "Let go! Let go of me! I must find her.Lyra!"
Much later, Will's wild rage had subsided to a mere shadow of its former self; hidden underneath Will's calm exterior. He swiped some hair from his eyes and waited for some unbidden signal from the angels. Will started molding an animal with the snow and found he had created a cat. The cat was much like the one that introduced him to all he now knows, and if he looked at it from the corner of his eye, the cat would take on color and stripes, disappear from this snow and stand between the two trees back at home.
Will took his mind off of the cat and instead pictured Lyra, safe with him, complementing him, or just sitting there. with him. It was her presence that he could recall now. Only a shadow of her presence remained locked in his memory.
"Will." the angel spoke with a voice as airy as the cirrus clouds in the sky. But it held no lack of power behind the words "close the window." Here was a boy who was so obviously traumatized. he has a way out. of course the angel was afraid of Will.
He had been peering intently into the another world before him. It was a barren wasteland to say the least, the remaining grasses looked brown and diseased and even the sun shone with a less-renewed vigor. Will almost smiled. It reminded him of his heart. He shrugged absently and obeyed his consorts. The window was closed in no matter of time, and the scare was now averted.
The angels tried another tactic. "Will, you want her back. don't you?"
At this Will's head snapped away from where the window was to look one straight in the eye. He nodded once but the simple acknowledgment was enough for them. The boy completed the motion and continued to stare at the floor, but his ears were now perked and listening for anything to help Lyra.
The angels smiled. They received exactly the reaction that they expected. "What did your father tell you before - before what happened after?" They knew what he had said, but they had to have Will figure it out. It all had to be his doing, his actions that followed. They could only guide him in the right path, not change the future.
"Stanislaus Grumman," he choked on the name, and started again, "my father, wanted me to bring the knife to Lord Asriel. He would know what to do with it."
"So that's what we are going to do. We will take the knife to Lord Asriel." They started walking out of the cave when Will called out.
"Wait."
One of them, the one closest to him, turned. "Yes? Whatever it is, I'm sure I can answer it. However, the journey ahead is long and harsh and it needs not to be any longer."
Will quickly dusted himself off and started walking, and they walked along with him. "Who are you?"
"We are Watchers, bene elim, what you call angels."
Almost laughing at their response, he replied, "I knew that. I wanted to know your names."
The angel speaking stopped. He pressed his hand to his heart and bowed deeply. "I am called Sensenoy. This is Semangelof." Semangelof also mirrored the gesture of his friend. Sensenoy started again, "We have another companion, on a mission in another world. We will introduce you to him when you meet him."
Semangelof raised his head from the bow. "You are Will Parry. The knife bearer."
"Yes," Will stated just as simply, "I am the knife bearer." He adopted a wholly different tone and said, "But I have a knife and no Lyra. I'd rather have no knife and Lyra. What are we going to do?"
Semangelof looked sharply at Will, dragging him out of his trance. He questioned, "About the girl?"
"Yes. About Lyra."
"We will contact our companion when you meet him. He will quest as we are. Do not worry knife bearer." Sensenoy smiled. "Our quest has now begun."
A/N: Thanks for reading, now please tell me what you thought about it in that little box down there. I appreciate all reviews.
Starry Eyed Dreamer
A/N: If it echoes some parts of The Amber Spyglass, it is completely unintentional. Don't worry, the plots are totally different, I just had to have Will start his journey at some point or another.
Spoilers: The Golden Compass (or Northern Lights in the UK), The Subtle Knife, and, for all storytelling purposes, the events in The Amber Spyglass never happened. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Philip Pullman, various publishers including, but not limited to, Random House Publishing Incorporated, Scholastic Books, Alfred A. Knoft Books for Young Readers Incorporated, David Fickling Books, Yearling Publishing, Del Rey Books, and Dell Publishing. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
"The past is set in stone. only we don't know what's set there."
~ Megan Whaley
All legends have a basis in some sort of reality; whether it be one event very much morphed or several events rolled into one. From both situations, all realities become fade into a history. That history of events are interpreted and spread throughout a land. Once interpreted, many of those histories with similar patterns are pieced together in a mosaic fashion, exaggerated, and elaborated until that history weaves itself into a newer story. The story loses much of its original details and gains new embellished details and ideas to shift itself into the world of myth. Finally, the myth, with its generalities in places that once were detailed and details where it was once vague turns into a great and famous legend.
This is the relation of one such reality, one that we all know and love as the world of Will and Lyra and their fate.
~
It was a hard cold aura that floated around the silence of the cave. If one had not been part of the events in the situation, the sadness would have touched the innermost depths of the soul. No giddy chirping of birds or their sweet songs echoed from that place. It was as if the area drowned in the boy's sorrow. Whatever had really happened, the angels knew the boy was special.
The boy, however, did not. He sat on the floor - not exactly sprawled - and clutched Lyra's bag towards his chest. Will was oblivious to all that surrounded him. It had been around a week since Lyra's disappearance and the bene elim were worried. They had good reason to be. Will still stood in the same mood, same posture, same expression, same everything, as that fateful minute so many days ago.
The Watchers exchanged glances that, if translated, held messages and stories pages long of such happenings. They knew why Will was so traumatized, he had lost two people important to his young life in such a short span of time. Fate had been cruel; he lost his long-lost father in the same moment that he knew he was his father. The father that he never quite known but had always loved. Moments later, he now lost Lyra. Lyra was the girl that he met and shared adventures with, and now that she was gone, he knew something else. He had lost the girl that he did not even know he loved until she was lost.
The angels did not worry over issues such as these, but the song of pain he brought forth was too great for them to ignore. They shook their heads. The remaining witches had long since gone but sent their regards to the boy of the Chosen One. The boy was special to them too, but in a different light and with different standards. They would watch him from afar as they had their work to do and the bene elim had theirs.
In the inebriated state that the boy of the Chosen One was in, he was worthless to the world. Will's antics as of this time slowed the process of the mission down quite a bit.
They had no choice but to talk to him that night.
"Will. Come on. We must move tonight."
Sadly, Will shook his head in dissent. Lyra was gone. She was in the hands of the very people he had to protect her against. His father was dead. He had spent so many years of his life looking for his father, and now all of his aspirations came down to this. Both gone on the same day. Of the three people important to him, two were now gone and one was alone in a completely different world. His heart screamed against the torment.
Will's hands clenched Lyra's bag tighter. Somehow, maybe, if by believing she was there, he could get her to come back. He took great gulps of air, as if breathing it where she once was would bring that little part of her back to him. Will knew she was gone even before the Watchers had come to him. He saw it in their eyes, their emptiness. It was as if the joy that was Lyra had gone from this world and into the next with her mother.
For it was her mother that was keeping her captive; he knew that much already. The half-witches told him so. At least he knew that slightly less harm would come to her in the hands of her own mother. if he could even be sure of that in his reasoning. Now he only came to one more conclusion. He had to save Lyra. And if that meant ripping through several worlds to do it.
He gripped the handle of the subtle knife strapped to his belt, and his eyes narrowed. Some signal set the Watchers off and they reacted with an alarming swiftness by grabbing his shoulders and pinning his arms to his sides. However, it was too late. He had already struck.
The delicate fabric of another world was exposed with the window near his head.
Tormented, Will shrieked, writhing in their grasp. "Let go! Let go of me! I must find her.Lyra!"
Much later, Will's wild rage had subsided to a mere shadow of its former self; hidden underneath Will's calm exterior. He swiped some hair from his eyes and waited for some unbidden signal from the angels. Will started molding an animal with the snow and found he had created a cat. The cat was much like the one that introduced him to all he now knows, and if he looked at it from the corner of his eye, the cat would take on color and stripes, disappear from this snow and stand between the two trees back at home.
Will took his mind off of the cat and instead pictured Lyra, safe with him, complementing him, or just sitting there. with him. It was her presence that he could recall now. Only a shadow of her presence remained locked in his memory.
"Will." the angel spoke with a voice as airy as the cirrus clouds in the sky. But it held no lack of power behind the words "close the window." Here was a boy who was so obviously traumatized. he has a way out. of course the angel was afraid of Will.
He had been peering intently into the another world before him. It was a barren wasteland to say the least, the remaining grasses looked brown and diseased and even the sun shone with a less-renewed vigor. Will almost smiled. It reminded him of his heart. He shrugged absently and obeyed his consorts. The window was closed in no matter of time, and the scare was now averted.
The angels tried another tactic. "Will, you want her back. don't you?"
At this Will's head snapped away from where the window was to look one straight in the eye. He nodded once but the simple acknowledgment was enough for them. The boy completed the motion and continued to stare at the floor, but his ears were now perked and listening for anything to help Lyra.
The angels smiled. They received exactly the reaction that they expected. "What did your father tell you before - before what happened after?" They knew what he had said, but they had to have Will figure it out. It all had to be his doing, his actions that followed. They could only guide him in the right path, not change the future.
"Stanislaus Grumman," he choked on the name, and started again, "my father, wanted me to bring the knife to Lord Asriel. He would know what to do with it."
"So that's what we are going to do. We will take the knife to Lord Asriel." They started walking out of the cave when Will called out.
"Wait."
One of them, the one closest to him, turned. "Yes? Whatever it is, I'm sure I can answer it. However, the journey ahead is long and harsh and it needs not to be any longer."
Will quickly dusted himself off and started walking, and they walked along with him. "Who are you?"
"We are Watchers, bene elim, what you call angels."
Almost laughing at their response, he replied, "I knew that. I wanted to know your names."
The angel speaking stopped. He pressed his hand to his heart and bowed deeply. "I am called Sensenoy. This is Semangelof." Semangelof also mirrored the gesture of his friend. Sensenoy started again, "We have another companion, on a mission in another world. We will introduce you to him when you meet him."
Semangelof raised his head from the bow. "You are Will Parry. The knife bearer."
"Yes," Will stated just as simply, "I am the knife bearer." He adopted a wholly different tone and said, "But I have a knife and no Lyra. I'd rather have no knife and Lyra. What are we going to do?"
Semangelof looked sharply at Will, dragging him out of his trance. He questioned, "About the girl?"
"Yes. About Lyra."
"We will contact our companion when you meet him. He will quest as we are. Do not worry knife bearer." Sensenoy smiled. "Our quest has now begun."
A/N: Thanks for reading, now please tell me what you thought about it in that little box down there. I appreciate all reviews.
Starry Eyed Dreamer