It was an unpleasant notion – the very thing that had caused her unconsciousness now dragged her back to the real world. As Lyra forced her eyes open, she was met with blinding light, and for a moment went into a panic, believing it to be the beams that had knocked her out of the sky. But no, she realised, it was only daylight spilling through the shutters of a window to her left. Now that she had calmed a little, she could take in the rest of her surroundings: the rough linen bedclothes that surrounded her; the cream plastered walls; the wooden floor; the embroidered tulips mounted on the wall above a dresser; the door beside this dresser. Birdsong drifted through the gaps in the shutters, reminding her of the day when she'd been made Guardian. When she'd been with Aquila. Before she could start crying from the shock of it all, however, the door opened, and Erinn poked her head round.
"Hey. I thought I heard you moving."
Watching the girl as she closed the door behind her and set down a beaker of water on the bedside table, Lyra frowned at her, wondering if this was some odd dream. Mortals weren't able to see Celestrians. So why was Erinn talking to her directly? No, actually, she had more pressing matters, but worried that she lacked the strength even to speak. Still, she tried anyway.
"Where am I…?"
Her voice was so gravelly and raw that she wondered for a moment if it was someone else who'd spoken. Erinn, however, was unfazed.
"You're in my house. I found you a couple of days ago at the base of the falls, and I couldn't just leave you there."
Since the pain that now seeped through her was real enough, Lyra was willing to assume that this was not a dream, and somehow a mortal could see her. Fair enough. But what really bothered her was the fact that she was lying flat on her back, without feeling the tickle of her wings against her fingers. Come to think of it, they weren't flattened beneath her, nor were they protruding from underneath the bedclothes. Worried, Lyra rolled onto her side and searched her backplane with a trembling hand, stretching it as far as it would go. But she found nothing.
"Mirror," she said, her already weak voice cracking with panic. "Mirror!"
Looking concerned, Erinn offered a hand mirror, which Lyra took and used it to peer over her shoulder. While it didn't do much good and she'd need two mirrors to see properly, it became quite clear that there was nothing sticking out of her back like there had been before. She couldn't even feel the joints that should've been nestled between her shoulder blades – only an empty space. And, turning the mirror up, Lyra's tear-blurred eyes found that she'd not only lost her wings, but her halo as well. She was shaking too much to continue holding the mirror, and it chipped as it clattered to the floor. Lyra curled up in bed, clutching herself as her shoulders heaved with sobs. Despite Erinn's attempts to find out what was wrong, all she got were tears and a horrible wailing that made her shiver. The wingless Celestrian was inconsolable.
It wasn't until the next day that Lyra decided it was time to stop wallowing and do something useful. Or, at least, that was how long it took to force herself out of bed. Even walking was a problem – from birth, she'd had extra weight on her back, and had thus learned a gait that accommodated for it. Now, she had to unlearn what had been drummed into her for centuries and walk like a human, which meant stumbling between the bed and dresser for an hour or so. By the time she was done, she could get around relatively well, but still felt like a gentle breeze would knock her over and soon got into a habit of using the walls for support. She left the room to explore, but came across something that made her stomach turn. In a wicker basket were her Celestrian clothes, every single bit ruined by blood. Black and brown stains were splattered all over what was left of it and any of the leather that could've been saved had turned blotchy with water damage. The whole outfit looked like it'd been slashed to bits. Lyra stared at it for a while, feeling more than uncomfortable in her mud-brown woollen smock that fell to her knees. Still, it was all she had, and she wasn't going to learn to walk again by sitting around feeling sorry for herself.
No one saw her slip on a pair of sandals and venture outside, though she did get a few odd looks from a couple of women drawing water at the well, who seemed to think she was infectious and kept their distance. Ignoring them, Lyra made her careful way onwards, up the path and into the rose garden with the statue. Sitting down on a wrought iron bench amid the flowers, listening to the birds, she felt a bit better about everything. Even so, when her eyes strayed to the statue, she was reminded of what she'd lost, and what she still had to lose. Aquila and Apus Major had been outside with her when the Observatory was attacked – had they escaped harm? Or had they also been thrown from above with their wings torn off, haloes shattered? What about Columba? Lyra even felt concern for her brother's safety. What had happened to them all? As if summoned to comfort her, furry warmth began rubbing itself against her bare legs, purring madly. Lyra noted that it was the same cat – a blue-eyed ragdoll with black ears, nose and socks – that had helped her find that old lady's ring in the recent past. She smiled and let it carry on rubbing, being careful that she didn't kick it by accident.
"Hey, look. It's that girl that turned up the other day."
The cat wandered off into the garden, leaving her with Ivor and Hugo, the former of whom seemed intent on making her miserable. Lyra stood and made to go past them, but the exit was so narrow that she'd have to rub herself against them like the cat had been doing to her legs in order to escape.
"I don't know," Ivor said, folding his arms. "Why would Erinn bother with the likes of her? She won't tell us where she's from, her hair is a weird colour…I wouldn't trust her as far as I could throw her."
"I bet it's her name that's got Erinn so keen," Hugo concurred. "It's the same as the village Guardian's, after all."
Ivor put his hands on his hips and laughed dryly.
"Ha! I doubt it's even her real name. I bet she's just some no good wandering minstrel that took on a Guardian's name to get a free lunch."
"Please," Lyra winced, head bowed and knees touching. "I don't want trouble…"
"Well," Ivor continued, ignoring her. "Listen, oddball! I won't let you get away with any funny business on my patch!"
And by funny business he meant…? Lyra supposed he was just saying that because he wanted her gone. Hugo supported this theory, but with something he evidently wasn't supposed to say.
"Yeah, watch your step! Ivor doesn't like Erinn giving you all her attention!"
Ivor nodded, then he seemed to process what had just been said, turned round and walloped Hugo in the ear.
"Ow!"
"You idiot!" he seethed. "Why would you say that?!"
Lyra whimpered and edged back, not wanting any part in this. However, salvation came from an unexpected source, as when the two boys turned in response to an irritated 'ahem', they stiffened upon seeing a very cross Erinn.
"What's going on?" she demanded, glaring at Ivor in particular. "What are you bothering Lyra for?"
"Uh…" he stammered, before finding his voice. "Hi, Erinn! We were teaching Lyra a few village rules. Anyway, we were just leaving."
He barged past her, this being Hugo's cue to follow. Lyra breathed out, feeling the weight of attention being lifted from her shoulders.
"I don't know why he's so full of himself these days," Erinn mused, though she sounded sad. "He never used to be like that. Anyway, you must be feeling better if you're out walking around."
Lyra nodded, trying to smile but finding that she grimaced instead. Maybe it was a bit too soon for that. Erinn rubbed her arm sympathetically.
"Well don't push yourself too hard, okay? I'll see you for later."
And with that, she was left alone in the garden. Before she could indulge in thinking too much, she decided to wander around the village, if not to practice walking then to let everyone know she was there, and they'd hopefully get used to her faster. That way she'd be accepted earlier. However, her hopes were dashed, as no one wanted to know and they acted as if she had three heads or something. What made it worse was the fact that they had, until so recently, been her mortal charges, and were grateful for her presence. Now they shunned and rejected her. Well, perhaps this was down to them not believing that she was the village Guardian, but it still hurt when she got distrustful glares from people she once loved and protected. Only the pets and children really liked having her around, and she was invited to play hide and seek while their parents were working in the lumber mill. Due to her silvery white hair, she was always found first, but didn't mind. Unfortunately, when evening came and the parents saw their children playing with a stranger, they hurried them away and gave her such looks that she wished the ground would swallow her up. With the play session over, local pets were her only company. And so too was the wildlife, apparently – a robin sat quite comfortably in her hand, unafraid that she might try to hurt it, and a fox just wandered past as if she was another animal. This made her feel much better. But night was beginning to fall and her legs felt boneless, so Lyra rose from the bench and retreated back to Erinn's house. Inside, the girl was cooking something in a saucepan that smelled rather inviting, and on the counter beside her were plates of grilled vegetables, some sort of fish and a loaf of bread.
"Hello, Lyra," she said, ladling the contents of the saucepan into three bowls. "I've just this minute finished preparing the food. I'll bet your hungry after your walk."
"Hungry?"
Lyra honestly hadn't thought about food. Yes, she ate like the mortals did, but she'd never tried their cuisine and Celestrians didn't need much sustenance anyway. Even so, her stomach gurgled, and she turned bright red as she clutched herself to stifle the noise.
"It sure sounds like it," Erinn smiled. Then she held out some cutlery. "Could you help me lay the table? You can rest as soon as we're finished eating. Don't worry."
Surprised but compliant, Lyra set down the knives and forks and took her seat next to Erinn's grandfather. In truth, she was excited by all the smells and flavours, and wanted to try everything, but reigned herself in so as not to appear greedy or rude. Erinn said it was okay, as she needed to keep her strength up to recover from her injuries. At this, Lyra felt her head tilting forward, hands clasping in her lap.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
"Hm? For what?"
"Thank you for helping me."
Erinn smiled again.
"It's alright. You just focus on getting better, okay?"
The corner of Lyra's mouth twitched upwards.
"Okay."
By the next morning Lyra was feeling much, much better. Pulling on a man's clothing for mobility, and breaking in the spare boots that were kindly donated by one of the villagers, she began to feel like her old self, even before going downstairs for breakfast. While the loss of her wings and halo weighed heavily on her, she found that the despair had let up enough for her to function normally, unless she curled up in bed and thought about it, which she thus avoided like the plague. Yes, she still had difficulty smiling or finding happiness in things she used to enjoy, but it was definitely better than it was. However, she had no reason to be happy when she noticed Ivor loitering in the doorway, watching her. Ugh, didn't he have something better to do? Well, considering he was doing this with Erinn nearby, maybe he didn't intend to be a bully like yesterday. When she spotted him after clearing up the plates, Lyra stared for a while, unsure what to do. He nodded guardedly, then inclined his head outside. Not seeing the problem – she could just come back inside if he kicked up a fuss – she elected to follow, and joined him round the side of the house.
"Here's the thing," he began. "You know how the earthquake recently caused a landslide?"
She hadn't known that, but nodded all the same.
"Well, it blocked a mountain pass that links us to Stornway. That pass is a lifeline for us here. It's a real problem for Eri- I mean, for everyone."
His slight blush indicated that he hadn't been thinking of everyone when he came calling.
"So I'm thinking 'What better time for Ivor to come to the rescue?'. I'm going to go and clear the landslide and make the road passable again. Only thing is there's been a lot of monster activity recently, and I need a bodyguard. You minstrels are pretty good in a scrap, right?"
Lyra blinked, processing his words and their meaning. She'd hardly been able to lift her head a few days ago, yet he wanted her to protect him from monsters? To be fair she was recovering very fast indeed, but she still needed time to practice and train before she was anything like ready. And she told him just this.
"Fine," he said, annoyed. "We'll get some stuff together, then go out and practice. If you're up to it, we go to the mountain pass."
Now this was a good plan. Not too sophisticated, but good all the same. And he was the mayor's son, so he could afford to get her some decent armour and a weapon. So, if she was unable to fight, they'd come straight back. If she was strong enough to protect him, they'd continue into the mountain pass. No frills, no problems. Even so, she felt just a little guilty leaving without telling Erinn, as her primary caregiver at the moment would likely try to stop her. That could easily be avoided.
The blacksmith didn't have a very high opinion of Lyra due to her short, childish stature. However, he had a good eye for what type of armour would be best, and she was soon buckling on her brand new leather cuirass, boots and gauntlets. There were weaknesses at her joints where she only had cloth to protect her, but there wasn't much she could do about this until she got hold of some chainmail, and even then it'd probably be too heavy for her. Her shield was basically a few planks of wood covered in leather, but it was definitely better than nothing, and she took it gratefully. And last, but by no means least, her sword. Having lost her original copper blade in the fall from the Observatory, Lyra found something more her size: a steel dirk with a broad, two foot long blade that was more like a giant knife than anything else. Anything thinner would have snapped easily, and anything longer would have been unwieldy. While she didn't look that formidable, she felt a bit safer than before in her new gear. When they were done at the blacksmith, they stopped by the village shop to pick up some essentials like food and drink, and some bandages in case either of them were injured. Lyra also got a woollen cloak with a hood, for rainy days. Then they were setting off towards the gate, bold as brass, only to be stopped by Hugo, who quickly crumbled under Ivor's snarking manner. He somewhat reminded Lyra of her brother, and she had to quickly bury this thought before she did something silly like cry.
Outside the village, there certainly was increased monster activity. Slimes and cruelcumbers ran rife, but there was also sacksquatches, batterflies and bodkin archers about. These things seemed to be more in the business of scaring travellers than actually attacking them, though the two got in a good deal of practice. Lyra was sad that she had to take life, and combat still muddled her thoughts, but considering what'd happened less than a week ago she was doing pretty well. For about half an hour they trekked through the woods, until the road led them up a series of hills towards what must've been the mountain pass.
"This is it," Ivor confirmed as they rounded a corner. "Finally! The landslide's somewhere around here, apparently."
He took a few steps up the path, but Lyra was no longer accompanying him. She was too busy staring at the giant front carriage of a steam engine that was just sitting there in a bed of crushed foliage. It was undeniably part of the Starflight Express, but it had gone a sad, pale colour, and looked a bit battered after its fall, not to mention being hit by those beams. Lyra shivered as she remembered it.
"What are you staring at?"
Ivor turned towards the Starflight, and looked straight through it.
"It's just a fallen tree. I don't get what's so fascinating about it. You can be properly weird sometimes, you know that? Now come on."
Shaking her head and tearing herself away, Lyra followed Ivor up a steep incline, and away from the carriage. Another part of the mortals' frailty was apparently that they couldn't see certain things, the Starflight being one of them. Well, she supposed that maybe it wasn't frailty – just precautions. From what she had already seen, mortals had the capacity to be selfless, compassionate and kind, but they could also be cruel, sadistic and vain. When He created them, the Almighty had to make room for every atrocity that could possibly be committed, in case a mortal should take such a thing upon themselves. That was their greatest strength and weakness: they were both good and evil. But this meant that keeping them away from objects of great power was a good idea, in case one of the bad ones got hold of them. Realising that she was thinking too much again, Lyra jogged after Ivor, only to find him staring up at a small mountain of rubble.
"This is it?" He stepped back so he didn't fall over while staring upwards. "But it's so much bigger than I imagined. We'll never be able to move this on our own. Stupid landslide!"
His shoulders began to quiver.
"And I was all ready to see Dad's face when I came back to the village a hero…"
He sniffed loudly, wiping his face. Lyra felt so sorry for him that she almost offered up comforting words, but she was soon distracted when he kicked the rubble in frustration, only for it to shift inwards. Ivor yelped, leaping back and freezing in a rather bizarre position that made him look like he'd spotted a poisonous insect.
"Hello?" said a muffled voice. "Is somebody there?"
"Yes," Lyra called out as Ivor pulled himself together. "We are villagers from Angel Falls."
"Jings!" said the voice, probably to a colleague. "Did you hear that? Someone from Angel Falls! We're soldiers from Stornway, sent by King Schott to clear the landslide."
"Blimey," Ivor said, fixing his hair as he regained some small measure of dignity. "The King must really rate Angel Falls to bother helping like that. We should probably go back to the village and tell everyone."
That sounded good.
"I suppose we're not really needed here, then. Huh! Now I wish we hadn't come all the way out here."
Lyra grimaced – they hadn't been that useless. Letting everyone know that King Schott was helping out would lift their spirits, and no one had gotten hurt in their little adventure, so she wouldn't agree with Ivor in saying that their trip was wasted.
"Wait!" one of the soldiers said. "Have you seen a lass named Patty? She works at the Quester's Rest in Stornway, but went to visit Angel Falls and didn't return. Rumour has it she went through the Hexagon, but the path there has been blocked too so we've no way of knowing where she is."
Ivor frowned, as if racking his brains, then shrugged.
"Nope. Doesn't ring any bells. Why would she want to come all the way out to our village anyway?"
"She must have had a good reason," Lyra mused. This Hexagon place sounded most unpleasant.
"The rumours must be wrong," Ivor told the landslide.
"Aye, well…do you think you could let your mayor know the landslide will be cleared soon?"
At this, he grinned, having found something he could do. That he'd already come up with, but still.
"No problem! Just leave it to me. You can always count on Ivor. Come on," He turned to Lyra. "Home time."
She fought laughter at his expense, because she'd watched him since childhood and had never once seen him do anything of note. 'Count on Ivor'? Pah! Even so, that was mean of her, and she said nothing.
Unfortunately for them it had started raining, and they had to make a dash for the village in attempts to remain somewhat dry, but failed and ended up drenched. They took shelter in the smithy and dried their clothes a bit by the forge, so they wouldn't be dripping too much on the mayor's floor when they eventually got to his house. It was a little better furnished than the homes of the other villagers, but was still quite plain and simple, and the only good rugs had been hung on the walls because they were too valuable to walk on. Angel Falls was a relatively poor community, after all. The two met Mayor Litlun in the main room, and though he didn't seemed awfully surprised at their dampness, his reaction to their explanation was unexpected to say the least.
"I see," he mused, rubbing his beard. "So, the soldiers will have the pass cleared soon."
"That's right," Ivor boasted, puffing out his chest proudly. "Everyone will be relieved to hear the news. Ivor saves the day, eh?"
Litlun glared at them.
"Don't be ridiculous! You were foolish to go all the way out there, just the two of you. Foolish!"
Lyra bowed her head automatically and mumbled that she was sorry. Ivor, on the other hand, looked like he'd been slapped.
"B-But! Why are you so angry? If we hadn't gone to the landslide, you'd never have known it was about to be cleared."
"So what? If I didn't know now, I'd have found out soon enough. Knowing a little bit sooner is hardly worth risking your life for. That's why I'm angry. That's why you're foolish."
He was absolutely right, of course. Lyra hadn't thought of all that. She understood now that she should've found some way of persuading Ivor to stay put, and she had probably worried Erinn for nothing.
"Gah!" Ivor stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Fine! Oh, yeah, the soldiers wanted us to find some girl named Patty that was on her way here but went missing."
"Wait a minute!"
All eyes turned to Erinn, who'd just burst in and was staring at Ivor.
"Is that true?" she asked.
"Erinn!" He went as red as a tomato. "What are you doing here?"
"What do you think? I'm here because you whisked Lyra off on some silly adventure!"
Lyra felt her guts turn to water, but continued to listen anyway.
"But is it true that Patty from Stornway is missing?" Erinn pressed, looking more worried by the minute.
"Ah yes," Litlun said thoughtfully. "You were originally from Stornway, weren't you? Do you know the woman?"
She nodded.
"I think I remember my dad talking about someone called Patty from his days in Stornway. Oh dear! Maybe she didn't know he'd passed away and was coming to visit him."
"Hm." The mayor seemed indifferent. "Well, I understand your concern, but we can't very well send out a search party with no leads."
"The soldiers said something about the Hexagon," Lyra piped up, trying to be helpful, though her attempt fell quite flat.
"Is that so? We can't be of help anyway, then. The Hexagon is far too dangerous. Erinn, why don't you take Lyra home now? I'd appreciate a bit of privacy so I can talk some sense into this pig-headed son of mine."
Ivor went red again, making an odd noise in his throat.
"Th-There's no need for that, dad!"
In some ways, Lyra was grateful that she and Erinn left before the earful was delivered, though she didn't dare lift her head until the appropriate apologies had been accepted.
"I was so worried when I heard you'd left the village, Lyra," Erinn said when they reached the house. "But you seem unscathed, though. You're obviously a lot tougher than I thought."
She bit her lip.
"Speaking of which, um…I was wondering if I could ask you a favour, Lyra. You see, I'm quite worried about all this talk of Patty going missing, so I was wondering if…"
She shook her head more vigorously than was necessary.
"Oh, never mind. I can't possibly ask that much of you. The Hexagon is far too dangerous."