Lyra Belacqua has vanished, and her memory with her. The Magisterium rules with an iron first over Brytain. The young inhabitants of Cambridge must take matters into their own hands before it is too late
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❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜
Manus had been working as a serving boy in college since he was not much older than thirteen. First it was simply to help his Father; making teas and cleaning his room. Something his Father got him to do to keep him occupied, no doubt. When he was old enough to get payed, he would clean student's rooms, stoke their fires, fix bookshelves and whatever else was needed of him. One of the elderly Fellows at Christ's College once asked him if 'little boys like you had better things to do after school than make cups of tea for elderly ladies'. Manus shrugged. He didn't exactly have friends who invited him over or to plays knights and princesses with. He was accustomed to solitude, and found it easier doing this than spending time with children who would be nothing but cruel to him.
Not much had changed since then, and their they needed the money. His Father wasn't payed much, and they barely had enough for the both of them to have three meals a day. His brothers were crofters, and made money only to feed their own families and put back into the land.
It was approaching 4 o'clock which meant he was running late with the tea and biscuits, so picked up the pace through the old courts (being careful not step foot on the grass, like last time). The contents of the tray rattled as he made his way up the east stairwell; a tight winding staircase of stone, up to his Father's office. Sephal had taken the form of a Polyphemus Moth, and was flying by his head.
"Sorry Father, Ah left ma keys at hame so ah had tae go back t'get 'em." Said Manus, bursting into the room, all rosy cheeked. Silence.
He looked up to find his Father glowering at him from his armchair, and the faces of three bemused students looking up at him. Shite. He'd interrupted a supervision. He'd forgotten he had them at this time on Thursdays.
"Thank you, Manus." His Father began serevely, clearing his throat. "It would do you good to knock, perhaps, before you come blundering in and embarrass yourselves next time?" Manus could feel his cheeks redden as a quiet snigger came from the room.
"Yes Father, Sir." He said, setting the tray down. "Shall ah make yer teas... or leave it here?"
"No," he began with an air of condescension. "We don't need any more of our time wasted. Here, take these papers down to the cellar for redistribution." He added, handing Manus a stack of academic papers. Manus nodded, and walked out of the doorway, ducking as not to bang his head. When the door closed, he heaved a shudder of frustration at looking like such a fool in front of those students. He plodded down the staircase and picked up the keys from the Porter's Lodge.
He had never been to the crypt, and was excited when the smell of parchment and leather minded permeated the dusty air. "Look at all these old books." Said Sephal, flying by the spines in an excited flutter. "They seem pretty...niche."
They covered topics from 'mollusc zoology of the Southern Namibya' to 'Elizabethan staircases'. One spine caught Manus' attention. It's title was in a shimmering silver so bright that it seemed almost white. It read 'alethiometry: a hidden art of truth'. The dust billowed in a huff as he pulled it out, and opened the first page.
On it was stamped, 'to be sent for immediate repurposing' Manus felt his breath catch, and flicked the pages through his fingers.
"What do you think that means?"Asked Sephal wearily. "How could someone want to throw out a book as precious as this?" She said, changing form into a Capuchin to gently touch the spine.
"I don't know. It must be some kind of mistake. And anyways, no one's going to miss it down here. Looks like it hasn't been touched in years."
Hugging it discretely under his blazer, he left the crypt, trying as best he could to disguise the sheepish look on his face. It was so rare that Manus could have access to university books, but whenever he did he devoured them voraciously, whatever the topic. And one as beautiful as this? Quite how could he resist.
▬▬▬▬▬ OF DÆMONS AND DUST, 2022 his dark materials applyfic
