Lyra took a breath in, choking for a moment on a mouthful of bread. Even with a bit of coughing, sputtering, and thumping her chest lightly, it was still by far the best bread she had ever tasted. Still warm and toasty, just on the brink of being too hot to hold but instead heating her fingers. The pleasant subtle taste of butter and something else that had to be very expensive. It was wonderful, and it made for good motivation to stick around a bit longer. If nothing else, she was just grateful that the stranger was most definitely an outsider and wouldn’t have much of an idea of her family’s history.

Then again, with how nice this bread was and how fancy some of the visitors were, there was a chance that the man was nobility of some sort. Other children had always painted them to be neat, tidy, polished to a sheen, but what did they know? To Lyra, if nobles were truly as powerful as they were supposed to be then they would have the liberty to go where they pleased, dirty as they pleased. They wouldn’t have to deal with drubbings and scoldings all day long for breaches of etiquette, nor would they be blamed for being a little grimy when there was nothing to clean themselves with. Not that she would ask if her thoughts were true aloud, that was asking to get in trouble for disrespect or something along those lines.

Looking back at the table, or rather, the crowd that hid the table, Lyra licked her lips slowly and dipped right back towards it. A little peril be damned, it felt amazing to have something so warm and so fresh. It was heavy in her stomach but in such an invigorating way that she would have believed that the church’s grand holy mission was making such delights. The thought brought the pastor to mind though, and just the memories of him were annoying enough to make her bristle.

Best not to focus on them lest she spoil her attitude, she thought, quickly shaking her head and reaching for another bun the moment she got within arm’s reach. “Mind grabbing one for me too?” A low, gravelly voice behind her murmured, and by instinct she grabbed another and began to pass it backwards, with the only thought in her mind being that the poor person sounded like they had literally eaten stones. The heartbeat after that thought, Lyra turned around, wide-eyed and looking everywhere except at the person behind her to try to find an escape route. “Easy, easy now, I’m not here to bite your head off, Miss Lyra.” The stranger from before continued, raising his free hand and taking a slow bite out of the bun with the other.

Hearing her name, Lyra’s attention snapped to his face. “You know my name. Why do you know my name?” She blurted, fear and panic already condensing into a tight ball in her stomach and making her forget how to behave for just a fraction of a moment “Sorry, no, I, uh, sorry sir, I’m sorry, I’ll be out of your way now, so sorry, have a great day sir, no need to mind me, sir.” She shot immediately after, no time for a response as she tried to squeeze away, but this time, a hand on her shoulder pulled her back to place. “Now, now, as I said, not here to bite your head off, Miss Lyra. Just looking to chat for a moment, that’s all. Come with me and there’s a fistful of coins in it for you.”

Now, a well-raised child may know that trusting strange, adventure-ready sorts who promised you money was a bad idea. Lyra knew that too of course, but unlike a well-raised child any opportunity for coin was a very, very good opportunity for her, something that would keep her mother off her back and make sure that things could be a little cushier, if only for a moment. Her struggles ceased and she clammed up, letting herself be pulled along by the man, prepared to scream and thrash, if need be, but curious about what a stranger who apparently knew her could want from her and what could spur them to offer her coin. In fact, did this stranger know how much she’d appreciate coin? Or did they just think she was another urchin willing to run errands? He did seem the dagger-y back-alley sort, so maybe this was a bid to hire a rat to do something decidedly illegal? She wasn’t exactly the sort to be known though, she was a nobody, and rather, somebody in the sense that she was particularly nobody.

Finally free from the crowd, but still trudging onwards, Lyra blinked owlishly at the doors of the church as the man pulled them open and gently pushed her to be in the lead. Well. If anything was clear now, it was that she wasn’t going to be physically hurt. Maybe emotionally or mentally, but not physically. “So... who are you? What am I getting money? Don’t answer the first if it means I don’t get as much, please, sir.” She murmured, a bit of confidence returning with the surety that no man would be stupid enough to pull her to the church to draw blood, that was asking for a lynching, even if you were a guest.

Finally letting her go and plopping himself down with a heavy sir, the man eyed her over with a wry smile. “Well, well, Miss Lyra. First a fresh cadet recruit, then a charming little businesswoman, one familiar with black market rules at that? You’re even more interesting than I thought you would be.” Lyra bit the inside of her cheek to keep a retort down, hands balling up in her tunic as she kept her piece for now, staying silent till he saw fit to continue. “But… those are good questions to ask, very smart of you. My name is Alester, last name is of little consequence… for now. It might be, depending on how much you can impress me. As for why I’m willing to part with my pennies, why don’t we go through a little interview, and I’ll tell you after? See if you suit what I’m looking for. You know, making sure the hire is capable of the task.”

Lyra only glanced down the aisle to the altar for a moment, quirking a very doubtful eyebrow. Was this some sort of religious thing? She had never bought into faith; it was hard to pray with an empty stomach after all. “… Right, Alester, sir, uh, could you first tell me how you know my name?” It would make or break the whole interaction; she had heard about her family, and she didn’t need to learn how much of it was true and whether it really was bad enough to drive people to kill. “Well, of course, miss Lyra, I heard from the priest when asking for someone who matched your description. I was a bit surprised to learn that you are not, in fact, a boy though.”

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The forthcomingness was concerning. “The priest?” “The priest.” She questioned, he echoed back to confirm what she’d heard. “Oh. The priest. O… kay. … Why were you looking for someone who looks like me, Alester, sir?” To that, the man cracked a wider grin. “Well, I’m supposed to be interviewing you, so I’ll tell you for a simple exchange. Drop the sir.” The forthcomingness was even more concerning with that. A grown man, one who had heard of her from the priest of all people, did not want to be called sir. Were pigs going to start flying next? Was the sky falling outside as they spoke?

“Sure, Alester, okay, so…?”

“Simple, I think you may have some talents that make you a very valuable asset to the taskforce you see chumming it up outside.” Lyra blinked, and he blinked back at her, each answer she got seemed to be the exact words necessary to confuse her further, but she’d be damned if her curiosity wasn’t piqued now. “Ah, I see you misunderstand miss Lyra, allow me to elabora-“

The door slammed open suddenly as a tall, blonde, slim faced man strode in, dressed in shining silvery armour and a regal blue cape billowing dramatically behind him, the priest at his side looking mousey and unremarkable, even in his vestments. Alester only glanced over towards him for a moment, and when his eyes came back to Lyra he grinned widely. “Sir Draya, hello, and father, what I can do for you two?” He began, not bothering to rise to his feet despite the duet’s status. One was a sir, not an older man to be respected sir, but a sir, sir, the sort with a noble title, land, and a very sharp sword.

The man brushed a long lock of golden hair behind his ear and quirked an eyebrow. “… Excuse me, Sir Lockewynne? Was it not you who asked that the father and I join you here for a chat with a guest of yours? … I don’t see anyone present, so I imagine the conversation fell through. Something to do with mystery wonder-child of yours if I were to hazard a guess.” Alester barked a loud laugh, thumping his hand on the wooden pew. “Right you are, Sir Draya, right you are. I apologize sincerely for wasting your time, please, forgive me.” The priest attempted to fumble out a comment, but the nobleman raised his hand to interrupt him. “Very well. Just don’t sulk in here too long, you are on duty if you recall.” Just like that, he turned on his heel and stepped right back out swiftly, the priest looking between Sir Draya and Sir Lockewynne hastily before bowing his head a little and scampering after the noble.

As the door shut behind them, Lyra finally let go of her breath and relaxed herself a little. She had made herself scarce immediately, pressed up against the pew tight enough that the two may have just fused together if she’d hid for any longer. For a moment, she was going to be angry that the man had apparently setup some sort of prank, one that had nearly stopped her heart from the abrupt fright of it all, but she saw his stupid grin and his stupidity must have been contagious because it just stupefied her. “What?” Was her eloquent commentary.

“Apologies, apologies miss Lyra, please, find it in your heart to forgive me. Just a small test of your talents, seeing if you have the knack that I thought you do.” He jested openly, bobbing his head like a toy, pleased as punch with himself and glee written on his sleeve like he had found a gold coin on the ground with no owner in sight. “… What?” “Come now, you’ll understand in time, tell me quickly miss Lyra, how do you feel about your lot in life? How do you feel about the priest here? The people here? Your life here?”

Caught on the backfoot, Lyra fumbled with her words, “Wha-? I mean, bad? I’d… like to have money, and a warm place to eat, and to have clean clothes and to be clean myself. The priest is… eugh… but the people are… nice?” She trailed with a grimace, pausing only when he tilted his head and stared at her incredulously, adding after moments of silence “I mean, what sort of answer do you want? I… I kind of hate them, honestly? Life sucks here, the priest is rude, conniving, and tried to use me to get popular and made fun of me in front of his whole crowd… congregation… mass… thing. If it could be any better, I’d love that, but you really aren’t explaining anything? Who are you? What’s going on?”

Finally, satisfied with her response, Alester took a breath in.

“Wonderful, miss Lyra, wonderful. My name is Alester Lockewynne, scout captain and, hopefully temporary, head of security. It’s clear you don’t know what’s going on outside, but the whole celebration isn’t because anything has been achieved, it’s to drum up good will and see if we can’t get a few recruits for our taskforce. The taskforce in question, is for reclaiming some land and investigating a disturbance around said land. If it’s not clear by now, I’d like for you to join as a recruit under my command, miss Lyra.”

Naturally, all Alester got in response to everything was an absolutely mindboggled, vacant look. “Hm. All okay in the head there, miss Lyra? Any questions, concerns?” He casually drew, his hand slipping down for a moment to unclip a small pouch with the unmistakable jingle of coinage. Sputtering, Lyra nodded her head quickly. “Yes! Yes questions! Yes concerns! What… what are you talking about? You want me to join some army group? In your scouts and security? Why me? Why are you excited about it? You do know I’m not even a teenager, right? Right?”

“I’m talking about recruiting a young woman to join the taskforce, specifically as a scout and slash or security detail. You have a talent that I see tremendous promise in, and I’d like to get to you before anyone else gets the opportunity to recruit you, especially not one of the, well, recruiters proper.” More answers, more questions, and with them a blossoming headache. Before Lyra could get another word in edgewise, he withdrew a small stack of shiny bronze coins and with a flourish of his hand had five large coins between his spread fingers, displayed to her. The sleight of hand only made the pace of this conversation worse; Lyra didn’t need trickery atop of everything else that was being heaped on her suddenly. Everything seemed to suddenly come all at once and her decision making was struggling as a result. She was young, she was confused, she saw money that could fix her problems, an- “And if you agree to join, I’ll double, no, triple this.”

Lyra’s eyes felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets, and she nodded her head hard and fast enough to hurt. “Yes, sure, whatever, for that much? Absolutely!” With a wolfish grin, Alester returned the coins to the pouch just as easy as he pulled them out and lightly tossed it to Lyra. This… was much more than triple. The coins weren’t really worth that much, but finding a stray, small copper coin was a blessing, let alone a large bronze coin, her math was garbage, but she only saw bronze coins used in large purchases, the sort that was getting the things for a whole meal for a family, or more, or maybe less, she didn’t actually know but large coins were better than small, and bronze was better than copper. Her head felt faint, and the look on Alester’s face made her think that she may have just made a horrific mistake.

“Now, you may be wondering why I’m grinning like I’ve just watched the barmaid’s tits go bare.” Lyra just nodded, slower, more occupied with the heavy weight of the pouch and marveling at the idea that this was hers. A fortune, a literal fortune, she could buy anything with this, she could buy a horse, a house, a whole dinner, a whole inn maybe. Probably not. It felt that way though.

“Well, all signs say that you, miss Lyra, may just be magical. Now that me-“

“What?”

And Lyra felt faint, head spinning before clonking against the wooden pew, out cold.