Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Horse, crocodile, beehive, and dolphin.

Lyra had asked the alethiometer where they could find Will’s father, and it pointed on those four symbols. Serafina Pekkala watched the small golden arm as it spun and clinked, but hadn’t the slightest idea of what those symbols must mean. The brown-haired girl then blinked rapidly out of her trance-like state with an answer.

“He’s traveling… With Lee Scoresby,” she says, wide-eyed in delighted surprise. “He’s on Lee’s balloon and they’re looking for us!”

Serafina’s brows furrow, “Lee Scoresby? The boy’s father...is with Lee?”

She was visibly in disbelief, but Lyra could only respond with a similar expression because there was no denying that her alethiometer was telling the truth.

Serafina closed her eyes, and she could sense that Lee was indeed in this world, and he was in the skies with another man. She had forgotten about the mission Lee had sought out to do, which was to find an object of protection with the help of a man named Stanislaus Grumman. Could it be possible that Grumman was this boy's father? She thought to herself that the nature of this coincidence seemed astounding, or perhaps it was more than coincidence?

“You must go to him and bring him here. If it’s Lee, he’s looking to protect us. We’ll be safer with him.” Lyra pleaded.

Serafina Pekkala agreed wholeheartedly. She turned to her two sister witches, addressing Reina Miti to accompany her in escorting Lee Scoresby’s balloon. Meanwhile, Lena Feldt remained there, sitting before the campfire in guard of Will’s unconscious body. They had just performed a healing spell over him in an attempt to heal his cut hand from his knife. Although it wasn’t clear yet if the spell had worked, its effects were surely going to keep him asleep for the rest of the night.

“Stay close to him, he’ll be cold tonight. We’ll be back as soon as possible with his father and Mr. Scoresby.”

Then the two witches flew up, disappearing into the black of the night sky.

Lyra got down on her knees as she prepared to sleep for the night. Pantalaimon had no problem simply bundling up against Will’s shoulder, but Lyra certainly struggled to be comfortable. She didn’t like the idea of laying bare against the mud and soil, yet she couldn’t just remove her jacket and lay it under her head for example, since it was cold out that night. So she compromised and lied down on her side, facing her friend with her elbow under her head like a pillow.

“We feel safe here… Don’t we?” Pantalaimon asked hesitantly, nuzzled against Will’s cheek.

Lyra doesn’t answer. The spectres are no problem to her, but it was still possible that this world had other creatures lurking in the forests. Besides that, she wondered if her mother was still following her and if there was a chance she’d run into her again. She wasn’t certain what or who to be wary of, much less if there was reason to be worried at all. Yet in all honesty, that uncertainty was what frightened her most. But she reminded herself that Will was safe and still by her side, and perhaps that was enough, for now.

-----

Miles away in the skies of the East, there were Lee Scoresby and Jopari indeed, flying on his gas balloon in the direction of Cittagazze.

It was the height of midnight, and neither men could sleep. Jopari’s winds had grown gentle and the balloon was moving slowly. Jopari described his sleeplessness as feeling closer to his son than he ever had in years, which he thought was strange at first since this wasn't even his world. Although, this was the crossroads world after all, so perhaps it wasn’t that far from the truth. Meanwhile, Lee Scoresby had made coffee for the shaman, although Hester nagged him not to have a cup of his own. He was used to the occasional sleepless nights, but she insists that he needed rest. 

Hester’s ear perked up when she began to hear something coming from the gondola’s exterior. The dæmon and her person looked at each other, because the sound reminded them of their last encounter with cliff ghasts. They hear the faint sound of tapping cloth, clinking metal, and something brushing against the tarpaulin. Jopari notices the aeronaut’s alert stance, and how he was now slowly reaching for his revolver from the holster on his leg. His brows furrow as his eyes search for any trace of a nearby threat, and then he calmly shifts his focus back on the coffee mug in his hands.

Lee follows the sound to a corner. He then carefully peeks behind the small cracks in between the tarpaulin, until a soft, elegant voice startles him from behind.

“Seems you've traveled quite far from home, Mr. Scoresby.”

And suddenly, Serafina Pekkala was there, sitting on the edge of the gondola behind the backdrop of a star-lit sky. The tension in Lee’s posture disappeared almost instantaneously, and he shook his head at realizing how he almost mistook Serafina for a cliff ghast.

“Ma’am…!” Lee says with a start, and continues in a softer, relieved tone. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

A soft laugh escapes them both as Lee approached her, a hopeful smile on his face that crinkled his eyes.

“It’s good to see you again too, Lee.” She replies.

Then another witch appeared. It was the Queen of the Tikshozero clan, Reina Miti, whose face Lee remembered seeing in the witch’s meeting in Lake Enara some weeks ago.

“Who’re your friends, Mr. Scoresby?” Jopari says suddenly before taking another sip from his coffee, not even so much as taking a glance at the witches next to him.

“Is this Grumman?” Serafina asks.

“Yep, although he prefers to go by Jopari.” Lee then turned to the shaman, and introduced him to the witch queens, then the queens to Jopari. After exchanging pleasantries, Lee was quick to ask about Lyra. Particularly, if they’d found her and where she was now.

“We were just with her,” Serafina answered. “She’s safe with my sister witch, and they’ve set up camp in a canyon not too far away from here. Her alethiometer told me you were here, so we came to escort you back to her. She will need that protection--”

“That’s fine news and all,” Lee interrupted. “But we don’t have that object of protection yet.”

“You still hadn’t found it?” Reina Miti asked, and Lee paused. He suddenly felt quite embarrassed and sheepish, realizing how long it’s been taking him to complete this mission. After all, it had already been some time now since that witch’s meeting.

“No, but we’re close, and we’ll go to them as soon as we’ve got the subtle knife.”

“A knife, you say?” Reina inquired.

“It’s in a ruined city not too far away from here,” Jopari suddenly chimes in. “We will need that weapon, so we’re not going anywhere else until we find it and its bearer.”

There was a pause as the two witches looked at each other thoughtfully. Serafina had taken note of the shaman’s face, how he shared the same nose and dark, tough eyes as the boy they'd met the night before. A faint smile pulled on the corners of her mouth, as she became certain that this was the man Lyra was looking for.

“Mr. Jopari, do you happen to have a son?” Serafina asked suddenly.

Both Jopari and Sayan Kötör’s heads shifted to face the witch queen. Jopari was visibly taken aback by how out of the blue the question seemed to be, and it was honestly the most expressive movement Lee had seen him make in that entire interaction.

“Why would it be of your interest?”

The witch leaned back against the balloon’s metal frame with confident poise, and she began to explain. 

“When I found Lyra, she was traveling with a boy she had befriended, and he carried a powerful knife with him. Together, they were looking for the boy's father, whom, as her alethiometer told me, I would find right here. Here, within the heavens of a new world, yet in a familiar balloon, with the company of a familiar friend.”

Slowly but surely, they both began to place the pieces together, and they were both in disbelief.

“Are you…” Jopari began. “Are you suggesting that--”

“--They had the damn knife this whole time?” Lee interrupts, the tone in his voice sounding like something in between annoyance and pleasant surprise.

“Indeed, I believe she already has what you’re looking for.” Serafina finished.

“My son… You've met Will? And he has the knife?” Jopari asks finally, just barely managing to let the words out of his mouth, and the witch nodded in reply.

A million questions ran in his head. How could that be? How did he even cross? And where was his mother? On the outside, Jopari said nothing, but the frozen expression of surprise on his face said it all. Meanwhile, Lee and Hester merely looked at each other with similarly confused expressions. Serafina simply leaned back with a thoughtful, content expression. This was proof to her that Will must be the boy of Lyra's prophecy.

It was absolute to her now that this was more than coincidence. This was fate, and the prophecy had never seemed so clear.

-----

The witches and the shaman came to an agreement that they ought to return to the campsite as soon as possible. So, Jopari wore his hood and whispered to the wind for its guidance. Meanwhile, Serafina Pekkala and Reina Miti both held on to the balloon’s frame opposite to each other, and pushed it with such strength that appeared entirely effortless. With their combined powers, Lee Scoresby’s balloon was suddenly traveling speeds unlike it’s ever flown before.

Some hours had passed, though the night was still young. Besides the whooshing winds and occasional squeaking meters, the balloon had fallen into complete silence. Since the vehicle was currently being controlled by people far more powerful than him, Lee technically had no reason to stay awake. Except, something on his mind had been bothering him.

“Miss Pekkala?” Hester said shyly. The witch had her cloud-pine covered arms in front of her, which provided her with the strength she needed to push the balloon with the wind. She turned her head and smiled at the dæmon warmly.

“Oh, yes, rabbit?” 

"Uh, hare." Hester corrected.

Serafina made a gentle giggle, "Yes, of course. I apologize. What is it, hare?"

"I just wanted to ask you about Lyra."

"What about her?"

"Her prophecy. You told us there'd be war, but we've realized that you've never actually told us who we're going up against. And lately, it seems like this is about more than just the Magisterium now, isn't it?"

"You're not afraid, are you?" she asked softly.

"No,” she defended quickly, “we were just curious."

The witch paused. She looked up from the dæmon to see Lee standing by the balloon's control panel, clearly listening in. Serafina hesitated but she decided that they ought to know. So, she stopped her tow for a moment and sat back down into a more comfortable position on the gondola.

“In all honesty, I’m not entirely sure yet. But if it’s any indication, we saw angels in the sky the other night, flying in search of Asriel to join his army.”

“Angels?” Lee finally spoke, and he stepped closer towards the witch.

“Yes, though there are bound to be more angels on the enemy's side as well. I understand if you’re afraid. Anyone would be--”

“No,” Lee interrupted. His voice was firm and he kept a calm composure. “I’ll gladly fight who I’ll need to fight. I'm just concerned about Lyra. I don't know if I've done enough to help her.”

"You’ve done plenty.”

"Have I?” Lee protested. “I was supposed to find her the subtle knife and take it to her. I traveled far and risked my life to find it but right when I was so close, you tell me she’s had it this whole time. That all of that was for nothing. Do you’ve any idea how dismal that is? She’s going to ask where I’ve been, and all I’ll get to say is vacationing with a shaman and getting beat down by her own mother.”

It had come to Lee’s mind that he should probably just be happy that Lyra was already under the subtle knife’s protection. In fact, just the thought that she even managed that on her own was remarkable. He knows in his heart that what he wanted was to protect Lyra. But quite frankly, he wondered if she even needed him at all. After all, he was just a hustler amongst witch queens and a powerful shaman. Compared to them, what did he have to contribute?

"Nothing?” The witch raised her brow and chuckled softly, “Don't humble yourself too much, Mr. Scoresby. Lyra cares for the boy, and he will be able to reunite with his father because of you. You delivered him here to this world. She will be grateful for that.”

“But what about her? Have I done enough to protect her? To prepare her for this war?”

Lee looked at Serafina and noticed how she was smiling at him. It was a very particular look, like she had suddenly realized something, and it filled her with warmth.

“What?” Lee asks.

Serafina responded, “A parent's job is simply never done, isn’t it?”

She then looked away, but she kept her delightful smile.

“The truth is, Lee, even I’m not certain if I’ve done enough for Lyra either. I’m not certain if any of us will ever be prepared for this war. So much was lost to get us this far, and I can only expect that much up the road ahead... But I am hopeful. Even more so now, knowing that she will soon have you by her side again. Make no mistake, Lee. You’re doing your duty well.”

Without another word, the witch then stepped back out into the sky, and the balloon rocked slightly as she continued her tow. And Lee finally decided to sit down amongst the seat furs in an attempt to get some rest. Instead, he merely laid there, staring up at the stars that peeked in between the balloon's foot ropes. Serafina Pekkala’s words still rang in his head, particularly when she referred to him as a parent. Hester hops onto the seat next to him and climbs on his lap.

“I really can’t imagine you being a father to anyone.”

“Shut up, Hester.” Lee chuckled.

“I know you would love that though, wouldn’t you?” she asks as she lays down on his lap.

Lee doesn’t respond, but simply smiles at the stars. Previously, worries of war had been keeping him awake. Now, he was instead tickled by the thought of adopting Lyra when it would all be over. The idea of it sounded wonderful, although Hester had a point. Domestic life was never quite his style. Would he be ready to give up this aeronaut life in the skies? Or perhaps he wouldn't need to. Perhaps Lyra would be interested in the idea of living with him in the balloon; In the idea of always traveling and never staying in the same place. He knew he would love that, all the places he would show her and all the things she could learn.

The aeronaut and his dæmon were now tenderly nuzzled against each other, but still weren’t drowsy in the slightest. They knew that at this point that there was no point in trying to sleep, as they would surely still be up by the time the sun rises.

-----

Chapter Text

It was late morning at the campsite. Will and Lyra were sitting together on the edge of a cliff, admiring the view of the sun as it rose behind miles and miles of lively forest. The view was calming, and it reminded Will of the postcards stamped with the letters his mother exchanged with his father.

As soon as Will had woken up that morning, Lyra told him of how the alethiometer had found his father with a dear friend from her world. In her enthusiasm, she couldn’t hold back from telling the stories of their meeting in Trollesund. She told him of the friendship between a Texan aeronaut and the king of the Svalbard Bears. She told him of the armored polar bears of her world in the North. She told him of cliff ghasts that Scoresby fought against to defend her and Roger. And Roger-- How she missed Roger. She began to tell him stories of childhood lunatics with her late friend. She smiles remembering how they laughed making spit-takes with bitter alcohol they stole from the scholar’s liquor rooms, and her eyes water slightly, reminiscing the days where they used to climb and tread the roofs of Jordan College. Those days felt like a lifetime ago now.

Will could only wish he had stories to share as thrilling as Lyra’s. His father had barely left them with enough to afford vacations around different parts of his world, and he'd be worried about how his mother would behave in any place that was as heavily guarded, much less as crowded as an airport. Instead, he listened to her thoughtfully. He took note of the changes in the tones in her voice, how her expressions stretched and crunched, and yet her doe eyes remained as spirited as ever through her whole story. They shared smiles and laughter, and when she was done, she sighed deeply, a wide smile on her face as she wondered where Iorek Byrnison may be now.

“Do you think Angelica and Paula will be alright?” Lyra asks suddenly, after some minutes of silence pass.

Though they tried to kill them both last they saw each other, she couldn't help but feel bad for how they left them. They were just children, after all; children who were mourning over the loss of another family member.

“I don’t think they were as bad as we thought. But I was scared. I’d never seen children act like that before.”

“I have,” Will says, almost as if he was saying it to himself. He then looked up from his bandages and realized he'd probably ought to explain what he meant by that.

“My mum...” he began. “She isn't well, you see. Every now and again, she’d start thinking things that weren’t true. Things that didn’t make sense. Like touching the railings in the park or counting the bricks on the wall, just small things like that. And then these boys found out, and they were worse than Angelica and Paula. I can at least understand why they were angry at us. But these boys-- We hardly even knew each other. They were mean for no reason.”

He looks back in front of him, at the view of the mountains and greenery. He grasped his bandages and thought once again of his father.

“When I was younger, I used to pretend that my dad was someplace abroad. And that one day, I would get to him. He would have the answer to everything. Then I could go to school, have friends, but the older I got--”

“--The more you stopped believing it?” Lyra finishes his sentence.

She didn’t say it out loud, but she understood exactly what that felt like. She used to feel the same way about her own father, though she never knew who he really was then.

“Yeah…" Will answered. "I couldn’t trust anyone.”

“Until you met me?” Lyra asks, looking at him with a cheeky smile. Will looks away, unable to hold back a smile and a chuckle of his own.

“Yeah.” He answers shyly, almost unable to look Lyra back in the eyes again.

"Do you know what you’re going to say to him, your father?”

“Oh, I have too much to say to him.” He answered with a chuckle. “To be honest, I’m a bit scared… You know? I’m scared to find out why he’s been gone, if he’s still anything like how I remember him… Or if I can even forgive him.”

Pantalaimon, as a red panda, hummed a sound of amusement as he laid down on Lyra’s lap, and they looked at each other with instantaneous understanding. They’d been down that road before.

“Well, you don’t have to forgive him,” Lyra said. "You know, a lot of grown-ups don't turn out to be the people we wish they are. Especially parents."

Will's brows furrow, easily seeing how she was clearly projecting, not that he would blame her though. Her parents certainly sounded awful from just the stories she's told him before. Often, he would still even find himself thinking back to the encounter with her mother and her golden monkey dæmon. But right now, he was particularly curious of her father, and how she says he killed her best friend. He wanted to ask her how and why such a thing ever happened. He just wasn't really sure how, much less if he was in any position to ask about it yet.

"That's the thing... I want to forgive him, but what if I end up deciding that he doesn't deserve it?" Will asked.

"Then he doesn't."

Suddenly, Pantalaimon swooshes his striped tail and practically slaps Lyra in the face.

"Pan!" She exclaimed in annoyance. The dæmon ignored her and Will giggled.

"We'll work something out," Pan told Will, uncomfortable at the bluntness of Lyra's initial response. "You ought to give him a chance. After all, I'm sure he misses you as much as you miss him."

"Yeah… At the end of the day, at least we'll get to be a family again." Will agreed with a faint smile.

-----

Later that afternoon, Will was asleep where the witches took shelter in a cavern next to a small campfire. He was woken up by Lyra, and behind her, the witch Lena Feldt stood against the light from the cavern’s opening.

“They’re back,” the witch said softly with a smile.

“My father…” he mumbled, to which Lyra simply nodded. “Are you ready to see your father again?”

Will looked at Lyra, wide-eyed as anxiety began to rapidly build up in his chest. He was about to meet his father again after so long. He strains a little because his hand was feeling uncomfortable under his bandages. However, he simply takes a deep breath and hides his discomfort.

“I may need a minute… You know, to just collect myself. You go ahead, I’ll catch up with you.”

Lyra could tell he was a little off, but she doesn’t question it. She steps out of the cave with Lena Feldt, who led her walking down a short path. The mountain rocks towered between the space they walked, like a natural hallway made out of mountains.

And from just above the surface of these rock formations, Lyra could already see the round shape of Lee Scoresby’s balloon.

-----

The balloon had landed just around the corner where the canyon ended, leading to the edge of a wide cliff. Lee had taken off his leather coat and jacket, and he fanned himself with his hat as he stepped out, as the environment was surprisingly hot in the day despite its cold nights. Serafina however simply stood there in the sunlight with Kaisa, drinking in the brilliant view of the mountainous horizons before her. Lee approached her, stopping by her side with both their dæmons in between them. He hesitates before he speaks, almost forgetting that he ought not to touch her.

"Thank you, Miss Pekkala." He said. Although it was far more than just the tow he wished to thank her for.

She smiles at him and rests her hand on his shoulder. "We ought to rest now. We'll need to be in the skies again by morning when we take Lyra home."

They then heard a familiar voice calling to them. They both turned to look behind them, and Lee’s eyes lit up seeing the girl he had traveled multiple worlds just to see.

“Lee!” Lyra came sprinting down the hallway-like path, her dæmon flying just ahead of her in robin form.

Lee removed his hat and gradually began to run to her as well. He then got down on one knee as Lyra practically barrelled into his arms, and they hugged as tight as they could.

"I thought I’d never see you again,” She said softly, overjoyed with relief.

"I know… I know, honey. I did too. I’m so sorry I lost you."

Pantalaimon flies down to their feet, meeting with Hester in the shape of an ermine. They hopped excitedly and made purrs and chitters. At some point, they even rubbed their sides against each other.

“Did you miss me that much?” Lee says, with a sudden shift from warm cheeriness to his usual dry tone.

“Well, it took you long enough to find us!"

“So this is your Lyra?” another voice said suddenly.

Lyra’s gaze then zoomed past Lee to see the tall figure emerging from the balloon. She gasps softly with her mouth agape.

“You’re John Parry?”

The man paused, a surprised expression on his face. He was stunned to be referred to by that name again. Although, he thought to himself that perhaps he may have to begin getting used to it.

“John Parry. Will Parry’s father, right?” She repeated, quietly in awe at this older version of Will in front of her.

“Yes.” He answered slowly, until he saw just in the corner of his eye, a boy walking in from the path behind her.

He emerged from the rocky path with eyes like his father's, and a face and hair that was shaped just like that of his beloved. The two Parrys locked eyes and they both simply stood where they were-- frozen still.

“...Will?” John finally speaks.

“Dad,” he responds, barely whispering from under his breath.

Sayan Kötör then zoomed out from the balloon, enthusiastic to finally make their son's acquaintance. Will paused as he watched his father not even flinch at the osprey landing on his shoulder.

“You… You have a dæmon?”

John and Sayan Kötör looked at each other, then he nodded. He chuckled awkwardly. He was far more unprepared for this than he thought.

Not knowing what to say, he simply approached the boy and took him in his arms. Will promptly wrapped himself around his father and held him that much closer. Finally in the warmth of his embrace again, Will couldn’t hold back his tears.

“It’s you. It’s really you.” Will says softly in between his whimpers.

John then drew back, cupping his son’s damp cheeks in his hands as he looked at him closely. He had Elaine written all over his young face. From the shade of his skin, the thickness of the curls in his hair, to the gentleness of his smile. And how he missed Elaine's smile. Will felt comfort in how his father looked at him, similarly as delighted and the teary-eyed mess he was… Until John took his hands. He didn’t expect to find that one of them was covered in bandages, especially those that looked like they seriously needed to be replaced. But in his other hand, Will held something in a firm grip. There, he held a small blade encased in a sheath of black leather. He sighed deeply in disappointment.

“So it’s true.” He whispered softly.

Will had honestly forgotten he still had the knife in his hand, and he wondered why his father’s expression seemed to instantaneously drop at the sight of it. John simply stood up and put his arm around Will in a sort of side-hug, and they both began to walk back the way he came.

He wordlessly held him close by his side, and though Will could see that something was clearly troubling him, he couldn't figure out what. John only told him softly,

“We have a lot to talk about.”

-----

On a cliffside by the edge of the canyon, the sun shined brilliantly with the rich blue sky. It was perhaps the brightest time of the day. Everyone else remained by the balloon, leaving Will and John alone to talk in privacy.

They both walked for a while down a mountainous path before stopping at another cliff. Will thought it was odd. Most of the walk was awkwardly quiet. He wasn’t really sure if he could blame him though. They hadn’t seen each other in well over a decade. Although John also mentioned that he ‘didn’t expect to be seeing him again so soon’, which honestly raised more questions than answers for Will.

“Can I see the knife?” John asked.

Will hesitated. He sat down on a rock nearby, removed his jacket because of the heat, and pulled the knife out from one of its pockets. The knife was still sheathed, but John Parry held the knife delicately in his palms. His eyes first laid on the decorative carving of an angel on the handle, and then he removed the leather sheath. He began to slowly ask him question after question as he studied the subtle knife closely in his hands. It bothered Will how most of his questions were only about the knife so far, particularly how it worked and how he became the bearer.

"And your mother, where is she?" John asked. 

"She's safe back at home," Will answered timidly.

It was about time he asked about her, he thought.

John continued to carefully turn the blade around in different angles, silently admiring the way the sunlight reflected on each side.

"And you came through a window? How did you manage it? This window--"

"You owe me answers dad, not the other way around." Will snapped, a rigid expression in his eyes.

"We thought you were dead. Do you’ve any idea how hard that was? How hard mum had it without you?"

John sighed. “I couldn't come back to you.”

He put the knife down and tried to explain slowly, “I had lost the window I came through, so I tried to find another way. I explored the new world I was in, became a scholar, then a shaman. I learned so much… Such strange new things, all just to find a way back to you and your mother.”

“It just sounds a lot like you abandoned us for this new world.”

“No. No-no," He stammers, "Son, it wasn’t like that at all. Everything I learned and tried to learn in that other world, I did it hoping it would take me another step closer to getting back to you. And in trying, I got a better understanding of these strange worlds and what I could use to help the people within them.”

“And you chose these people over your family,” Will concluded, his voice breaking as he spoke and his tears beginning to stream again.

“I thought that by helping them, I could help you, Will. But now you’re here, and we’re together again. Now, we can help all of these people together.”

John wiped his face, took the knife, and placed it back in his son’s good hand. His hands wrapped around Will’s fingers, holding them firmly around the handle, and he began to speak softly.

What they didn’t know however was that Pantalaimon was closeby. He was in the form of a pine marten, sitting on a small ledge quite far above them, trying to inch closer because he couldn’t properly hear what was being said.

"Don't go too far away, Pan," Lyra says in a strained sort of whispering shout. She was still at the cliff with the balloon, where she was peeking from the cliff in-between boulders and tree branches.

“Will, if you’re the knife bearer, you have an important task ahead of you," John told him. "There’s a war coming, the greatest war there ever was. You must find Lord Asriel, and tell him that you have the only weapon in all the universes that can destroy the Authority, alright?”

Will stuttered, overwhelmed by the weight of the information being dropped on him all at once. “A war? I… I don’t understand.”

“It's okay, I will guide you. With help from Mr. Scoresby and your friend Lyra, we will find Lord Asriel’s fortress and deliver the knife to him together. I understand if you have questions. I will explain everything you may want to know on the way.”

“No… No, I don’t want to.” Will's voice trembled, and he quickly handed the knife back to his father, “Take it. I hate it. I don’t want anything to do with it.”

“You fought for this knife, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but--”

“Yes, and it chose you. You are the knife bearer, Will, and you must protect it. If you don't use it against them, they'll tear it out of your hands and use it against everyone.”

Will shook his head. He anxiously makes excuse after excuse. He claims he could never possibly manage this, how unfair this was, and how he just wasn’t strong enough to fight in any war of the sort. However, his father wouldn’t listen to any of it.

“Will, I'm sorry. But this isn't something you can just run away from."

Will sat back down, trying to control his trembling breathing there on the slab of stone. John kneeled down to his eye level, but his efforts to comfort him were anything but comforting. He held his shoulders warmly, but he continued to go on and on about fate and the knife-- All these things he didn't come here to talk about, and all his words simply faded away into background noise.

This is so unfair, he thought to himself. This wasn't helping him one bit, and he only felt angrier the more his father spoke. 

"...Listen to me. The fate of the many worlds rests on you. Will, this is your duty--"

"And it was your duty to be my father!" Will exclaimed angrily, smacking his father’s hands off of his shoulders.

“Sorry, you said? This is all you’re sorry for? Not for all the years you missed us? For the way you left us in the dark? No, I did not come all this way for this. I want nothing to do with this war, or that knife, or any of this.”

John Parry looked at him with wide-eyed concern, clearly stunned into silence. “I am sorry.” He said slowly. “I know there's so much I have to make up for, and I promise. If you give me a chance, I will.”

"This is your chance. I need you to forget about this for just this once. Please, it’s time you’ve come home." He pleaded tearfully.

“I will, I promise you, I will. But it’s important you do this first. That we do this first. I’m truly sorry--"

John steps closer to his son, but he only stepped further away, both from him and the knife in his hands. Will was flaring now, until he could no longer bear to look at him in the eyes. He simply picked up his jacket from the boulder and walked away.

“Will, where are you going? Will! We're not done here!” He called out sternly.

“I'm going home!” Will turned back and raised his voice. “Mum’s waited long enough for one of us.”

And then he left, sauntering away from both his father and Lyra & Pan's field of view. The older Parry raised his voice once more and called his son’s name, but he wouldn’t pay any more attention to him. So John simply sat down, his head left in his hands as his dæmon stood by his side. He groans deeply, drained and melancholic.

Lyra leans forward, further out from the branches in an attempt to follow where Will was going, until her hand loses its grip on the rock and she slips. She looked down and for a moment, her heart stopped when she saw the deep drop below her.

Pan sighed in relief. She would have fallen straight down if it weren't for the firm grip that caught her by the collar of her denim jacket. 

"What in the hell were you doing?!" Lee Scoresby exclaimed distressingly. Lyra was then hauled back up, away from the edge, and back on her feet.

At that moment, Lee was reminded of the last time he and Lyra were together in their own world. When he lost her, the image of her falling from the balloon was left ingrained into his mind like an open wound. She was lucky he just happened to be nearby this time.

"You gotta stop try'na to get yourself killed in front of me. You could’a gave me a heart attack."

He drags Lyra far enough away from the cliff and sat her down on a nearby boulder. Pantalaimon followed, swiftly turning from a magpie back to a pine marten mid-air as he landed near Hester. Lee immediately began to check Lyra’s forearms, elbows, and palms in case the rock had scraped any scratches on her. 

“I’m not a toddler, Lee," Lyra whined in annoyance. “I’m fine, really. I’m not hurt or nothing. I was just looking for something important."

"You mean you were eavesdropping on that boy?"

"I wasn't eavesdropping," Lyra defended quickly.

"Weren't you, now?"

"No. Even if I was, I could never hear them from there anyway."

When he found nothing out of the ordinary, Lee chuckled as he stood back up.

“Look, I know you're at that age now, but you could be less creepy about the way you pine on boys, alright?"

Lyra and Pan look at each other and she stammers. "W-What are you-- Oh, gross! We’re just friends!”

“What? I never said otherwise,” he said grinning as he walked away into his balloon nearby with Hester just behind the heels of his boots.

“I don’t pine on boys ...” Lyra mutters, grudgingly tagging along behind him.

She looked back over her shoulder at the cliff as she walked, however. She wondered where Will was now and what was said to make him appear so upset.

-----

Lyra paused when she stepped inside the gondola, although her eyes moved curiously around her.

“I honestly thought we’d never be back here again,” Pantalaimon said.

Interestingly, with the way the balloon was currently set up, it bore far more resemblance to a sort of camping tent than a gas balloon. The gondola had a large sheet of white cloth draped over the metal bars on one side, diffusing the bright afternoon sunlight like a curtain. The balloon radiated with a warm and humble coziness to it, one that reminded Lyra of Ma Costa's Gyptian boat. She and Pan had been on the balloon once before, and she had always noticed the surprising amount of storage compartments hidden in each corner of the octagon-shaped gondola. She wondered what kind of tools, nic-nacs, and possible souvenirs Lee carried around with him in his travels.

"You hungry? Jopari-- Or John Parry, whatever his name really is. I’m sure you’d fancy his bacon sandwiches” Lee said as he rummaged around John’s bag for them.

“Sure,” she responds absent-mindedly because she was already poking around the tools and such that he had messily laid around out in the open on the seats. Lyra was genuinely hungry though, and the aroma of the coffee brewing in the brass coffee maker nearby was alluring. She and Will didn’t get to pack much food before leaving Cittagazze, so they had little to nothing to eat the day before.

Meanwhile, Lee had been wanting to catch up with Lyra about what she had been doing since they last saw each other in the North. He asked first about how Will seemed to not have a dæmon. He was silently taken aback when he first saw him, and he was only further unsettled at the idea of the dæmon-less world he and John Parry came from. He then asked about how they got their hands on the subtle knife, and listened to Lyra's story attentively as she spoke with enthusiasm. It wasn’t the happiest story, however. Her voice was small when she told him of Giaccomo and Tulio’s fates, and she was still quite disturbed by the image of the knife cutting seamlessly through Will's fingers. Regardless, she makes sure to emphasize how she and Will had become good friends since then-- JUST friends.

Lee laughed, looking over his shoulder as he poured her coffee into one of his extra mugs. But his brows immediately furrow when he realizes that Lyra had found his revolver and was fiddling with it. With a few soft clicks, she even managed to figure out how to open the gun’s canister on her own. There were six holes inside, three of which were still loaded with bullets. Pantalaimon, now in stoat form, climbs onto her shoulder cautiously and asks her if she knows what she’s doing.

“Don’t touch that,” Lee says with a swift motion of his hands, replacing the revolver with her sandwich wrapped in a thin, brown paper.

“Could you teach me how to use that?” She sat up eagerly.

“Teach you how to shoot?”

“Yeah! I bet I could be better with 'em than you.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Lee smirks.

“You scared?” She taunts playfully.

“--Of wrecking your ego? Nah, not at all. I’ve been handling arms since I could crawl. Now, eat your sandwich." He said as he sat down next to her with two mugs of black coffee from his brass coffee maker. He also pulls out a small crate from the seat below him that compactly stores a few small glass jars. He takes out two of them, each full of sugar and creamer respectively. Not knowing Lyra’s preference, he lets her make her coffee herself.

Lyra rolls her eyes as she unwraps the brown, slightly soggy paper. In her hands now was simply three slices of bacon sandwiched in between two slices of dry wheat bread, with what looked like mayonnaise spread on one side. The sandwich wasn’t warm, but the combined aroma of bacon and coffee were still strong enough to make her stomach growl. The smell also made her feel nostalgic, as it reminded her of Roger. Bacon was also one of his favorites. Whether it was bacon or sausage, he would always steal a piece or two from her breakfast tray. As much as Lyra enjoyed Will's omelets, it was all they really had for those several days, and she quite missed the familiar taste of home.

Just as the memory of Roger was occupying her mind once again, Lee suddenly so happened to ask as he stored his revolver back in its holster and placed away his leather coat, “So anyway, what about your other friend? Roger-- Where’s he gone to now?”

Lyra hesitated and shared an alert look with Pan. Unbeknownst to her, everyone back in her world was talking about the tear Lord Asriel left in the sky. Many were warily questioning the Magisterium back home, rich and poor. However, no one, not even Lee, actually knew the details of how Asriel made it possible.

Lyra swallowed the bite of bacon sandwich still in her mouth, and she answered slowly.

“Roger… He died.”

Lee notably paused. Hester, who was laying down on a soft fur blanket, raised her head with perked ears, and they both looked at the girl with an alarmed, yet confused expression. Lyra exhales deeply and she tries to explain. She briefly told them about how Asriel needed a blast of energy to open the window in the North. One that could be provided through dæmon intercision.

“So the tear in the sky…?” Hester asks. Her words trail away, but Lyra knew what she wanted to say.

Lyra nodded softly. “That was Roger... And Sicilia.”

Lee looked away, a flurry of disappointment and anger clear in his expression. "And this was because of Asriel?"

Lyra simply looked down, where Pantalaimon was on her lap, nuzzling sorrowfully against her wrists. This was only the second time she’s had to share the news of Roger’s death with someone, and it didn’t feel any easier than the first time. So, she simply said nothing, letting her silence answer for her. Then Lee kneeled in front of her, looking at her intently with sincere remorse in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Lyra. You went all that way for him… I could’a been there for you. I could’a done something.”

“Iorek did all he could to help me,” She assured him, “ I could've done something… But I couldn't. It was so cold out on that mountain, I couldn’t get to him in time.”

Lee’s brows furrowed and he gently held her hands, taking them and clasping them together under his own. "Honey, what happened to Roger was terrible, but it ain’t your fault. You know that, right?"

Lyra doesn’t respond. After some seconds, she simply shook her head and wiped her palms across her tearing eyes.

“Can we talk about something else?” She asked, and her voice trembled slightly despite all her attempts to force a smile. But then, almost as if in cue, a voice called to her from afar.

“...Lyra!”

Lyra turned behind her and saw Will emerging from the same path she saw him go down with his father. He came alone though, and he appeared so much more tired than he did when she first woke him up. She roughly wiped the tears from her cheeks and immediately went on her feet.

“Excuse me,” Lyra said as she stood. Lee leaned out of her way as she stepped aside and hastily ran out of the balloon.

Lee watched as he let her run off. He sighs, and he shares a pitiful expression with his dæmon.

-----