Welcome to the first chapter of Heartbeats Beneath the Shattered Worlds. I wanted to explore a new ending for Marisa Coulter, a character who has captivated me since I first encountered her in Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials. My journey through the books, along with my admiration for the film adaptations and the series, inspired me to reimagine Marisa's fate in a way that offers her a new layer of depth and resolution.

Enjoy :)

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Lyra lies awake, staring at the ceiling. Tony is asleep beside her, his hand loosely resting on hers. Pan, her daemon, curls up on her chest, sensing her unease. The house is silent, but Lyra's mind is a storm of thoughts. She can't shake the feeling that something is missing—someone.

Lyra reflects on her life with Tony, the love and stability they share, but her thoughts always drift back to Marisa Coulter. Despite everything, a part of her is desperate to know what happened to her mother after their final encounter.

Lyra quietly slips out of bed, careful not to wake Tony. She walks to a small wooden box on a shelf, pulling out the spray Dr. Martin Lanselius gave her so many years ago. Pan jumps down, watching her with curious, questioning eyes.

"You're sure about this, Lyra?" Pan asks, his voice tinged with concern.

Lyra hesitates, then nods. "I need to know, Pan. I can't move on without answers."

Lyra steps out of the house into the cool night air, the moonlight casting long shadows as she begins her solitary walk to the river. The village is quiet, with only the rustling of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl breaking the silence. Pan walks beside her in his ermine form, his white fur glowing softly in the moonlight.

As they approach the edge of the village, where the river meets the forest, Lyra's mind drifts to a troubling memory. The scent of the night air, mingling with the damp earth, triggers a vivid flashback.

Lyra is a child again, nestled in a grand but cold room of a white stone house by the sea. The room is dimly lit, and the faint, bitter scent of tea lingers in the air. Though Lyra is asleep, she is partially aware of her surroundings through the haze of the drugged tea.

Mrs. Coulter holds her close, her voice a soft murmur that blends with the rhythm of the waves crashing outside. In her dreams, Lyra can barely make out her mother's words, spoken in a gentle tone that contrasts sharply with the sharpness of her earlier commands.

Mrs. Coulter's voice drifts in and out of Lyra's consciousness, telling tales of distant lands and adventures. She speaks with a softness that seems at odds with her usual demeanor, weaving stories of bravery and betrayal, of grandeur and despair. But amid these stories, there are hints of darker truths.

"From the moment I laid eyes on you, the moment you were born, I knew I loved you more than anything," Mrs. Coulter murmurs, her voice trembling slightly. "You are my heart, Lyra. You were born from love; you were made from love. But my husband, Edward Coulter, would have seen you as a threat. You looked so much like Asriel—he would have been furious and would have harmed you. In fact, he did try to harm you. Edward found out that my child was alive and that it was a girl and not his. He came after you and tried to kill you. I was relieved when Asriel saved you."

She pauses, her voice softening. "People will say I have no child, as I have told them so. They'll believe I never loved you, that I was indifferent to your existence. It's a lie I'll have to tell them to protect us both."

Her words are filled with a mix of tenderness and deep regret. "You must understand, my love for you is real, even if my actions seem to say otherwise. I am doing this to keep you safe from the harm that would come if anyone knew the truth."

In her drugged state, Lyra feels the warmth of her mother's embrace but struggles to reconcile it with the chilling nature of her words. The conflicting emotions create a surreal, dreamlike quality to the scene, leaving Lyra with a profound sense of confusion and sorrow.

As the flashback fades, Lyra is left with fragmented memories of her mother's voice, mingled with the dreams of comfort and betrayal. The reality of the situation blurs, but the emotional impact remains deeply etched in her heart.

Lyra snaps back to the present as she reaches the river. She stands there, the spray bottle clutched tightly in her hand, trying to reconcile these painful memories with her present reality.

Pan, sensing her turmoil, speaks up. "What's on your mind, Lyra?"

Lyra looks down at the spray, her voice trembling slightly. "I've had dreams of that time, Pan. My mother holding me, telling stories that seemed so real, yet she claimed she didn't care for me. I've always wondered if there was truth in her words or if it was just a cruel facade."

Pan gazes up at her, his eyes reflecting the moonlight. "Your dreams, Lyra, are more than just dreams. I've been awake during those times you think you were alone. I've seen and heard things you might not remember. What you saw was real; your mother's conflicted emotions were genuine, even if her words were often harsh."

Lyra absorbs this, feeling a mixture of relief and sadness. She takes a deep breath and turns her attention back to the task at hand, knowing that she must seek the truth, no matter how painful it may be.

Moments pass, and the air around Lyra begins to hum with energy. Slowly, Serafina Pekkala emerges from the shadows of the trees, her bare feet gliding silently over the grass, her presence ethereal yet deeply connected to the earth.

Lyra's breath catches in her throat as she sees the witch materialize before her. "Serafina…?" she whispers, her voice tinged with both relief and the gravity of what she's about to ask.

Serafina nods in acknowledgment, her gaze meeting Lyra's with a deep understanding. "I have felt your need, Lyra. The questions you carry, the weight of your mother's fate—it has drawn me to you."

Lyra hesitates for a moment, then finds the courage to ask the question that has haunted her for so long. "Serafina, what happened to my mother? What happened to Marisa?"

Serafina's expression shifts, her gaze growing distant as if she's listening to something only she can hear. A moment later, she turns back to Lyra, her voice solemn. "I have waited for the day you would ask. Marisa fell into the abyss alongside Asriel. They sought to destroy the Authority to save not only you but the entire multiverse. Their sacrifice was both noble and tragic. They ventured into the unknown, a place beyond the grasp of our world's understanding."

Lyra's eyes widen with a mixture of hope and trepidation. "So she is gone, lost in the abyss with Asriel?"

Serafina nods solemnly. "Their sacrifice was a final, profound act of love and bravery. While they are beyond our reach, their legacy endures in the world they fought to save. You must focus on your own path now, for your journey is intertwined with theirs in ways yet to be revealed."

Serafina's expression then becomes more focused, her gaze piercing and intense. "An angel has spoken to me, Lyra. It is not merely curiosity that drives you—it is fate. You will need your mother once again in the coming months."

"You can find her?" Lyra asks, hope and fear mingling in her voice.

Serafina nods slowly. "I can find her. But the journey is fraught with danger. It is not one you can make."

Lyra's eyes widen with determination. "I don't care about the danger. She's my mother—I have to go with you!"

Serafina gently shakes her head, her eyes filled with concern. "No, Lyra. You carry a child, and the path ahead is not safe. Your role now is to protect the life within you. I will find Marisa and bring her to you."

Lyra's face contorts with confusion and denial. "I don't understand. I'm not—"

Before Lyra can finish, Serafina places her right hand over Lyra's stomach and her left hand over Lyra's ear, leaning forward to place her lips gently on Lyra's forehead. A soft, rhythmic sound begins to echo in Lyra's ears.

Lyra's eyes widen in astonishment as she hears the steady, soothing heartbeat of a baby. The realization washes over her, and her expression softens with a mixture of awe and tenderness.

Serafina withdraws her hands, her gaze still compassionate. "Trust in this, Lyra. Your journey is here, with your family. Let me take on this task. When the time comes, you will be reunited with your mother."

Lyra, now fully aware of her condition, nods slowly, her resolve shifting to one of acceptance and understanding. "Thank you, Serafina."

Serafina offers a reassuring smile before fading into the mist. The night air feels charged with new purpose for Lyra as she contemplates her path forward.