Re:Lyra-Starting Life in Another World (Re:Reader-Lyra Edition)

Chapter 26: Hot Tatoes

A/N: Big shoutout to Thanette for catching the smaller grammar problems in the last set of uploads. I hope you enjoy this new chapter!

Chapter 26: Hot Tatoes

Lyra's mind is filled with cloudiness. From what she could tell, she was slipping in and out of consciousness many times. The first few times she had, she had heard voices, frantic ones at that. Without being able to discern what the voices were exactly saying however, Lyra could form no opinion or thoughts on the matter. Still, with her occasional momentary bouts with being conscious came pain, but it seemed with each time she came to, the pain was a little less.

At times she could feel her hand being held. Throughout the experience, these hands seem to have changed. Lyra could tell at one point Rem had been one of these hands, as she felt the ever-so-slightly weathered hand of a hard-working maid. The next thing she had felt was a larger hand, not by much, but with much-softer skin. Not as warm, but also not holding it as confidently as Rem would have. A few semi-conscious wake ups later another hand held hers, this time much smaller in size. With these few times, Lyra had noticed most of her pain had subsided during this time. Finally, one last hand held hers, although only briefly. Lyra had felt the initial grab and let-go, letting her know it was only for a few moments. At first, Lyra had believed that this hand had belonged to Rem, but it was just softer than hers. It also did not conform to her hand like Rem's always did.

Lyra was woken up by her own breathing. Her throat was dry. She had been mouth breathing, but the way she was able to take in the cold fresh air was extremely satisfying, as if she hadn't been able to do so for a while. Trying to wet her own throat, Lyra  felt the tingle of sunlight on her eyelids, prompting them to open.

Fully expecting to see her own room or perhaps even the guest room, Lyra at this juncture was nonetheless confident she hadn't died. What caught her off guard,  however, was the ceiling above her. Rather than the ornate, decorated ceilings adorned with crown molding, whitewashed to a near-blinding bright shade of the mansion, Lyra was instead greeted by wooden rafters and the underside of a slatted roof.

Noticing the unexpected change of scenery, Lyra also felt the bedding.

Gone were the smooth, freshly-washed sheets and plush pillows of the mansion. Lyra quickly discerned that what was covering her, while soft, was much more coarse, as they were hand-weaved blankets of considerable age. While still clean, they smelled not of fresh laundry, but rather that of a recent, warm sunny morning, capturing the smell of the day it was last washed and left out to dry on the line.

Mustering her strength, Lyra sat herself up. With a quick look around the room, it was clear she was not at the mansion, but was rather in the bedroom of a quaint cottage.

Wood furniture, ornate rugs, and tiny knickknacks covered the room as she looked about. The sun's light that had woken up Lyra had found itself through the many moth-eaten holes in the thin white curtains that hung over the window. Before she could finish scanning her vision across the room, a voice called out to Lyra in a hurried, hushed tone.

?: Oh! Good morning, Lyra.

Without being given a chance to turn and face the direction the voice came from, a vestige of gray filled Lyra's morning eyes.

Puck: You seem to be feeling much better!

Lyra's vision came to focus on the little gray floating cat before him.

Lyra: Ahh...uhh... yeah... I guess—

?: Lyra. Goodness, I didn't expect to see you up so soon.

With another voice coming from the direction Puck's had, this time a loud whisper, Lyra was finally given the chance to look over and see.