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"Wake up," Aidan said, poking Syra in the chest, "it's time to go. The Manarail leaves in an hour."

A groggy Syra sat up to see everyone else dressed and finishing breakfast.

"We'll be outside," said Cassius as he left with Petra.

"You alright?" Aidan asked, sitting down next to her. "You squirmed all night."

He rested a hand on hers and she started at the sudden contact.

"Sorry." He pulled it away.

"No, it's okay. It..." she grabbed hold again, "it helps."

"Nightmares again?"

She nodded and picked at the pilling quilt.

"I thought they were gone, but these were so...vivid. Way more than usual. I could feel everything, like it was really happening. Like he was actually there."

Her fingers shook and he draped a gentle arm around her.

"But you're here. You're okay. Given all the shit that's going on, I'd say it's quite normal for those fears to come back. Plus, you did get bit by that bookworm yesterday--could be some leftover venom in your system."

"Yeah, that's probably true." She chuckled and massaged her sore forearm that still stung when pressed the right way.

"How about you tell me about it while we're on the train? The others are waiting and there's food downstairs--they have bacon."

His smile and gentle nudging--and the smell of seared meat--eased her mind, but the little wisps' voice still echoed in its far corners.

***

"Here you go! Just like new." Weldon spun the hilt in his hand before handing it over to Aidan. "Hope you don't mind that I shined it up a bit. Such a beauty deserves the extra care."

"Not at all." Aidan's flat face crinkled from the excitement he reigned in, but it fooled no one. The boy was absolutely giddy.

"Now, you take better care of that, sir. Can't have your crazy antics giving my work a bad rep."

"Yes, sir." Aidan took some practice swings then dipped his head low, "Thank you, again. I won't forget it."

"So, now that you've got your trusty sword back, where're you heading off to? If you don't mind more questions, of course."

"North," Aidan said, sheathing the blade, "we're heading north."

"Still vague, I see." He smirked. "No, that's good. That's careful—heavens know you can't afford not to be these days."

He puffed his chest and stretched his back which had tightened over the hours tending the bench, "Best be off with you, then. The Manarail leaves soon, so you better scurry if you don't want to walk the whole way."

They turned to exit but Weldon waved Syra back over, "Oi, magical girl."

"Yes?" she muffled through the last bite of her second muffin.

He drew close with a serious eye, "You best be careful out there, you hear? I don't know where you got them hot rocks, but there are some shady people around here that I wouldn't be messing around with."

"Shady people?"

Is he talking about...

He pointed to the scar on his face, "People who will burn your face for disagreeing with them."

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"People did that to you?"

She had thought it an accidental wound—a fight lost to hot metal due to a loose grip or unsteady footing. Now standing closer, she noticed the imprint of a coin at his jaw.

"The Black Thorn?"

"Aye, you heard of them?"

"Unfortunately."

"In that case I advise you keep a low head. Some of them have a peculiar interest in you magic folk, and they are not to be trifled with. Got their hands in many pockets and birds in every ear. And if you're heading north, then you're only going to find more of them."

Just lovely. Barely into human territory and already being hunted. Guess I shouldn't be surprised by now.

"That's good to know, thank you. I'll certainly keep it in mind."

***

Along Dairos' northern border was the city's business district—with its narrow roads, sky bridges that fluttered with Kiithran merchants, and people whose mouths were as fast as their feet—and at its heart lied the Manarail. A gleaming beauty of engineering and alchemical ingenuity, the train hovered above its austrum railing, humming and waiting amidst the exchange of boxes and bodies.

"There's so many." Cassius scanned the crowded station of passengers filing into the cars. "How are we going to get by unnoticed?"

"We don't. Not up here." Aidan turned away from the crowd and motioned for them to follow.

They drew away from the lines of impatient passengers and followed the train further down the line. While paying passengers enjoyed the luxury of the front cabins, cargo—and the occasional hitchhiker—found their seats in the tail cars at the back. Luckily, the buzzing patrons were too preoccupied with themselves and their pressing timetables to even notice the figures ducking behind stacks of crates and through back alleys.

"This way." Aidan scampered around the rear of the train when the loading crews had retreated back to their docks.

Keeping to the brush and treeline, they crept car by car until they found one with open bay doors. Standing outside the crate-filled car was a guard with his nose to a tally sheet.

"I'll distract him while you climb on."

Aidan slunk from the bushes and padded up behind the guard. When he was close, he made a loud dash for the car.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" The guard dropped his tally sheet and grabbed Aidan by the cloak, dragging him off the car. "No stowaways!"

He threw Aidan to the ground, but he rolled to his feet and drew his sword.

"I'm getting on that train." Aidan smirked and taunted the guard to close in on him, giving the others space to sneak past.

"Like hell you are." The guard drew a small, shiny object from the chord under his shirt—a whistle.

"Shit." Aidan dashed for it, but the whistle met his lips first.

A whisper of air made the whistle chirp, but it whined and died as the guard's eyes rolled back and his body sagged.

Aidan froze, then laughed. Smirking up at him from behind the guard, Syra stood with shimmering fingers wrapped around his head. She released him and let him fall with a thud.

"Sleeps like a rock, that one."

The Manarail blew a loud, long warning, making them all jump.

"Quick, put him over there." Aidan helped Syra drag the guard to a tree.

"His officer isn't going to be happy." Syra propped him up with his head back and mouth open.

"His fault for sleeping on the job."

They left the guard to his slumber and hopped into the car, closed the door and hid in a small nook behind stacked crates that smelled like dirt and onions. There was another whistle and the humming grew louder as faint vibrations ran through the floor. With a slight jerk, the image outside the window began to change as they pulled away from the station.

Muscles relaxed as the trees outside became blurred, and Syra rested her head back against the wooden pallets.

"Well, we made it."

"Now, where are we going?" Petra asked as she slid to a seat.

"To Koth."

"Obviously," Petra stretched out her legs, claiming her section of the nook. "But Koth is even further north than our territory. I doubt this human machine goes that far."

"It won't," Aidan said, "But it will get us close. Close enough to walk, at least. If we ride it all the way up, it'll take us to Crescent Bay, which is right on the border of the Nordlands. Until then," he plopped his pack into his lap, "we wait."

Petra let out a long sigh and squirmed, "My rump is going to be so sore after this."

The Manarail made short stops at the towns of Tryst and Stone Grove, but only to exchange passengers it seemed. The gentle rocking and whir beneath them settled their nerves, and a ration later—or two in Petra's case—sent them all nodding.

It was the low rumble and hard braking that jolted them awake as the Manarail slowed.

"Are we there?" asked Petra.

"No," Aidan rose to peek out the window. "No, it's too soon. We must be stopping again."

But they did not stop. There was a clacking of gears and the shift of weight as the train changed course to the right. To the left, past rolling hills in the distance, the old capital of Cree sat by its wide river, and burned.

Aidan and Syra sprung to the window to see the plumes of smoke paint the skyline a sick gray.

"So much for going north," Syra whimpered as the smoking city and their track north disappeared behind hill and forest.

"They're probably just taking a detour." Aidan sat back down. "I can't imagine it being safe for passengers right now."

"What could've happened? Cree's a big city. How can it just catch on fire like that?"

"I'll give you one guess."

Syra huddled into her spot in the corner and they went quiet.

Cree's a big city, she repeated to herself. Next to Dairos, it's the largest on the whole west coast. Yet, it was taken out like a Flameweaver to a hay stack.

She chewed her lip. Marrak must really be that strong. To take out Altaira, now Cree. Not even Rozenfall could stand up to him.

She froze.

"Aidan, you said they were taking a detour, right?"

"Most likely, yes. Why?"

"Remind me, what city is east of Cree?"

Aidan's jaw tensed and his shoulders drooped, "Rozenfall."