As I soon I swung the door to the intercision chamber open, my heart seemed to stop beating as my eyes came across the girl being severed from her daemon. Wavy brown hair, and gorgeously warm brown eyes, was Lyra. My Lyra. My daughter.

My daughter screaming in heart-wrenching sobs, pleading for my staff to leave her alone. To stop the guillotine blade from tearing her and Pan apart. I couldn't help it. In one, long stride, I was there, ripping at the locked door of the metal cage and forcing it open. In one, small second, to my horror, an unconscious Lyra tumbled into my arms, the ghost of tears threatening to stream down her face.

Holding Lyra with one arm, I gently placed Pan onto her chest. They immediately curled up to another, even in unconsciousness. I smiled down at them. My daughter and her daemon. I placed my other arm under Lyra's knees, making sure she was comfortable and then I left the intercision room, and made my way to my chambers – wondering how I was going tell Lyra that I was her mother – I couldn't go on lying to the girl any longer.