Lumera

Morning arrived with three bells.

The first woke the birds.

The second woke the flowers.

The third was supposed to wake Lyra.

It didn’t.

Lyra remained under her blanket.

A few seconds passed.

Something tapped against her window.

Lyra ignored it.

Another tap came.

Then another.

Lyra pulled the blanket over her head.

“Five more minutes,” Lyra whispered.

The tapping stopped.

Lyra smiled.

Finally.

A loud thud hit the window.

Lyra sat up.

“Fine!” Lyra complained.

Her hair covered half her face.

She pushed it away and looked toward the window.

A tiny white cloud floated outside.

Lyra stared at it.

The cloud stared back.

Something blue was hanging from it.

Lyra narrowed her eyes.

It was her sock.

“That belongs to me,” Lyra said.

The cloud slowly moved away.

“Don’t,” Lyra warned.

The cloud moved higher.

Lyra jumped out of bed.

“I mean it,” Lyra said.

The cloud disappeared above the roof.

With her sock.

Lyra rushed to the window.

“You could at least take the other one!” Lyra shouted.

Nothing came back.

Lyra sighed.

“Rude,” Lyra muttered.

Behind her, the mirror yawned.

Lyra turned.

“Not you too,” Lyra said.

The mirror yawned again.

“You’re a mirror. What are you tired from?” Lyra asked.

Her reflection shrugged.

Lyra stared at it.

Then she laughed.

“Fair enough,” Lyra said.

She got ready.

A cream sweater.

A long brown skirt.

One blue sock.

One yellow sock.

Lyra looked down at them.

“Fashion,” Lyra declared.

Her reflection shook its head.

“Jealousy,” Lyra replied.

Lyra tied her hair into a loose braid.

Then she grabbed her satchel.

Maps.

Charcoal.

Pencils.

Measuring string.

Two notebooks.

And one piece of candy she had forgotten about.

Lyra picked up the candy.

She looked at it for a moment.

“Breakfast,” Lyra said.

A paper bird resting inside a teacup opened one eye.

Lyra looked at it.

“Do not judge me,” Lyra said.

The bird closed its eye.

Lyra ate the candy.

Then she stepped outside.

───────────────

The morning air touched her face.

Cool.

Fresh.

Sweet.

Her cottage sat on a small hill covered in white flowers.

Thousands of them surrounded the stone path.

Some were already open.

Others were still waking.

One flower opened as Lyra passed.

“Morning,” Lyra said.

The flower leaned toward her.

Lyra smiled.

At the bottom of the path sat Hush.

The little fox looked as though someone had made him from moonlight.

His pale body glowed softly.

His long tail rested over his paws.

Lyra stopped in front of him.

“You’re early,” Lyra said.

Hush stood.

Lyra looked toward the three bells in the distance.

Then she looked back at Hush.

“Actually, don’t tell me,” Lyra said.

Hush began walking.

Lyra followed him.

“You could wait for me,” Lyra said.

Hush continued.

“I feed you,” Lyra reminded him.

Hush flicked his tail.

“That means nothing to you?” Lyra asked.

Hush kept walking.

Lyra smiled.

“Ungrateful creature,” Lyra said.

───────────────

The path curved down the hill.

Lumera stretched beneath them.

Small houses covered the green slopes.

Blue roofs.

Pink roofs.

Yellow roofs.

Some had chimneys.

Some had trees growing through them.

One had somehow ended up upside down.

A woman stood beneath it, hanging clothes from the roof.

Lyra waved.

“Morning, Mrs. Vale!” Lyra called.

Mrs. Vale looked down.

Or up.

It was difficult to tell.

“Morning, Lyra!” Mrs. Vale replied.

“How is the house?” Lyra asked.

“Still upside down!” Mrs. Vale shouted.

“Looks nice!” Lyra replied.

“I’m getting used to it!” Mrs. Vale called.

Lyra continued walking.

Above the town, islands floated through the sky.

Waterfalls poured from their edges.

The water never reached the ground.

It became mist halfway down.

Children ran beneath it.

Every time the mist touched their hair, tiny stars appeared.

One boy ran past Lyra.

His hair was full of them.

“Look!” the boy shouted.

“I can see them,” Lyra replied.

“I have twelve!” the boy said.

A girl ran behind him.

“You have eleven!” the girl shouted.

“Twelve!” the boy argued.

“One is dandruff!” the girl replied.

Lyra covered her mouth.

The boy looked horrified.

Lyra laughed as she continued walking.

They soon reached the stone bridge.

There was no river beneath it.

Instead, hundreds of glowing fish swam through the open air.

Silver ones.

Golden ones.

Tiny blue ones that travelled in groups.

Lyra leaned against the bridge.

A large golden fish floated closer.

“Good morning,” Lyra said.

The fish opened its mouth.

A bubble floated out.

Inside it was a tiny rainbow.

Lyra watched it rise.

“You’ve been practicing,” Lyra said.

The fish moved proudly in a circle.

“Yes, yes. Very impressive,” Lyra said.

Hush had already reached the other side.

Lyra looked at him.

“Some of us appreciate art,” Lyra called.

Hush sat down.

Waiting.

Lyra crossed the bridge.

───────────────

The Morning Market waited ahead.

The moment Lyra entered, the smells reached her.

Warm bread.

Sweet fruit.

Flowers.

Spices.

Something being fried that Lyra immediately wanted.

Bright cloth covered the stalls.

Paper birds flew above the crowd carrying letters.

One flew past with a wooden spoon.

Lyra watched it.

“Interesting,” Lyra said.

She decided not to ask.

A man stood beside rows of small blue bottles.

A sign hung above him.

RAIN FOR BAD DAYS.

The seller noticed Lyra looking.

“Two bottles and the thunder is free,” the seller said.

Lyra stopped.

“Is the thunder safe?” Lyra asked.

“Mostly,” the seller replied.

“Mostly?” Lyra repeated.

“Keep it away from curtains,” the seller advised.

Lyra nodded.

“That sounds reassuring,” Lyra said.

The seller smiled.

“I try,” the seller replied.

Hush suddenly changed direction.

Straight toward the bakery.

Lyra noticed.

“Ah,” Lyra said.

Hush walked faster.

“So now we have somewhere to be?” Lyra asked.

Hush reached the bakery.

Mr. Rowan was already standing behind the counter.

Flour covered his apron.

And his nose.

He saw Hush first.

“There’s my favorite customer,” Mr. Rowan said.

Lyra stopped.

“Excuse me?” Lyra asked.

Mr. Rowan looked at her.

“Oh. You came too,” Mr. Rowan replied.

Lyra placed a hand over her heart.

“That hurt,” Lyra said.

Mr. Rowan laughed.

“The usual?” Mr. Rowan asked.

“Only because your favorite customer demands it,” Lyra replied.

Mr. Rowan took two pieces of cloud bread from the shelf.

They were warm.

Soft.

And floating slightly above the tray.

“Fresh from the eastern breeze,” Mr. Rowan said proudly.

“You said that yesterday,” Lyra replied.

“The breeze came back,” Mr. Rowan said.

Lyra handed him three silver leaves.

Then she tore off a piece of bread for Hush.

Before it reached him, the bread became tiny sparks.

The sparks disappeared into his glow.

Lyra stared.

“I still don’t understand how you eat,” Lyra said.

Hush looked pleased.

“Neither does he,” Mr. Rowan said.

Hush slowly turned toward him.

Mr. Rowan raised both hands.

“I take it back,” Mr. Rowan said.

Lyra laughed.

───────────────

As Lyra stepped outside, she noticed the ribbons.

Blue.

White.

Gold.

They stretched between the buildings.

Baskets filled with lanterns stood along the street.

Flowers were being placed around doors.

Musicians carried instruments toward the town square.

Lyra’s face brightened.

“Already?” Lyra asked.

Mr. Rowan leaned against the bakery door.

“Tomorrow night,” Mr. Rowan replied.

Lyra smiled.

The Lantern Bloom Festival.

Her favorite time of the year.

For one night, Lumera became brighter than the sky.

Thousands of lanterns would rise together.

Music would fill every street.

There would be food everywhere.

People would dance until the morning bells rang.

A group of children passed carrying lanterns.

One lantern was almost as big as the child holding it.

“It’s going to fly higher than yours!” the child said.

“No chance!” another child replied.

“You’ll see!” the first child said.

Lyra watched them run toward the square.

She remembered being just as excited.

Maybe she still was.

Hush sat beside her.

Lyra looked toward the half-decorated town.

A warm breeze moved the ribbons above them.

“Tomorrow is going to be beautiful,” Lyra said.

Hush looked up at her.

Lyra smiled.

Then she adjusted the maps beneath her arm.

“But today, we work,” Lyra said.

Hush stood.

He started walking.

Lyra followed.

───────────────

The town became louder as the morning continued.

Paper birds crossed above the rooftops.

Children chased glowing seeds between houses.

Someone’s teapot was singing badly from an open window.

A woman shouted at it.

“You’re flat again!” the woman yelled.

The teapot sang louder.

“You’re proving my point!” the woman shouted.

Lyra laughed.

She walked past another row of houses.

Then another.

There were still places she had not mapped.

Roads she had not walked.

Gardens she had not found.

That was one of the things Lyra loved most.

Lumera never seemed finished.

There was always something else around the corner.

Something strange.

Something beautiful.

Something worth finding.

Lyra looked at Hush.

“Race you to the clock tower?” Lyra asked.

Hush immediately ran.

Lyra stared after him.

“I hadn’t said go!” Lyra shouted.

Hush did not care.

Lyra laughed and ran after him.

Her maps bounced beneath her arm.

Her mismatched socks showed with every step.

Hush was already far ahead.

“Cheater!” Lyra shouted.

Then Hush stopped.

Lyra almost ran into him.

“What?” Lyra asked.

Hush was looking at the ground.

Something rested between his paws.

A letter.

Lyra looked up.

There were dozens of paper birds flying above them.

But none were close.

She bent down.

The envelope was small.

Cream-colored.

A tiny golden flower was pressed into the seal.

Lyra smiled.

“For me?” Lyra asked.

Hush pushed the letter toward her.

Lyra picked it up.

Her name was written across the front.

Lyra.

Nothing else.

No address.

No sender.

She turned it over.

The golden flower shimmered in the morning light.

Lyra looked toward the paper birds.

“Which one of you dropped this?” Lyra called.

The birds continued flying.

Lyra looked back at the envelope.

Hush tapped it once with his paw.

“I know,” Lyra said. “I’m opening it.”

She broke the seal.

Inside was a tiny card.

Lyra unfolded it.

There were only six words.

For the girl who maps Lumera.

Lyra smiled.

“That’s me,” Lyra said.

She turned the card over.

There was something else written on the back.

There is somewhere you haven’t found yet.

Lyra stopped.

She read it again.

Then once more.

Her smile slowly returned.

Not because she was afraid.

Because she was curious.

Very curious.

Lyra looked at Hush.

“Well,” Lyra said.

Hush tilted his head.

Lyra placed the letter carefully inside her satchel.

“Looks like we have a new map to make,” Lyra said.

Hush started walking.

Lyra followed.

Above them, the lanterns moved gently in the morning breeze.

Tomorrow was the Lantern Bloom Festival.

Today...

Lyra had somewhere new to find.

End of chapter 1