"Next stop, Phantasmagoria Falls!"

The conductor’s announcement came at a rather unfortunate time, as I was about to score another winning hand against the royal academy first year who had the misfortune to be my traveling companion for the latter half of my trip.

I spared a glance out the window. The train wasn’t slowing down yet, and all I could see was a flickering green blur of pine trees.

Eh. We had time.

Flicking my eyes back to my cards, I feigned nervousness by shakily drumming my fingers across the rickety wooden tray table. My opponent was perfectly stoic, of course. He didn’t even make a move to sweep his slick black hair back out of his eyes, nor smooth down his embroidered blue robes.

Licking my lips, I reached for three caramels from the pile of individually wrapped candies I had accumulated over the course of our game. Setting them down between us, I eyed him carefully.

Come on, take the bait.

He did, of course, putting down three gumdrops from his own pitiful pile — if you could even call it that. Good. I liked gumdrops.

He knew that I was baiting him, because he had baited me to bait him, but he didn’t know that I had baited him to bait me to bait him.

Also, he knew that I had a three of a kind while he had a full house.

“Full house.”

As expected.

“Four of a kind.”

The tiniest crack formed in his facade. Ha. Smart enough to count cards, but not clever enough to realize I had been cheating since before the very first round.

His loss. Scooping up my hard earned gumdrops, I looked back out the window. The train was definitely slowing down now.

“By the way,” I said while standing and depositing the candies into my satchel, “if you’re just half as good at studying as you are at counting cards, the first semester should be a breeze.”

I was actually a bit worried that he was going to choke for a moment, until he managed a cough and an awkward “thank you?”

Ignoring him for the moment, I grabbed my battered old trunk from under the seat, as well as my much nicer briefcase from where it was leaned up against the window. We were at the very front of the car, so fortunately I didn’t have to squeeze down half the aisle to get to the doors.

The train squealed to a halt, the doors swung open, and I was about to step out onto the station platform when the student called out to me again. “What did you study?”

I looked back.

“I mean, I presume you attended.”

I shrugged. “Officially? Alchemy. But it turns out I was most talented with illusions.”

Snickering at the young man’s expression of shock and realization, I stepped out just in time for the doors to swing shut behind me. Setting down my trunk near the edge, I took a moment to readjust to stable ground and survey the entrance to what would be my new home for the coming weeks.

Let’s see. An immaculately pristine water fountain. A pair of restrooms next to a colorful ticket booth. A fanciful bronze clock hanging overhead that was — I checked my watch — exactly on time.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Huh. Usually you had to be suspicious of the ones in the smaller towns.

The other thing I noticed was that there were no other passengers.

The shriek of the whistle startled me from my reverie, and I looked back as the train began to slowly pull forward. Catching sight of my gambling partner in the window, I gave him a brilliant smile and a cheerful wave, which was met with a rather rude — though not actually angry — gesture.

I hefted my trunk back up just as a harried looking station manager rounded the corner of the terminal.

Setting my trunk back down, I watched with some amusement as he attempted a manner of locomotion that can best be described as awkwardly divided between a dignified strut and an exhausted jog. He was carrying a paper parcel in one hand, and his despair upon realizing that the train was already departing was quintessential of an overworked civil servant who had just realized that he had — to put it delicately — completely fucked up.

Regaining his composure in an instant — save for a lingering twitch of his spectacular mustache — he straightened his red, button down coat and strode forward towards me.

I couldn’t help but think that he looked more the part of an actor playing the role of a station manager in a stage performance rather than the real thing. Perhaps his tall felt cap was just a little too crisp for my liking.

He kept walking forward until we were but two arms’ lengths apart, and then he stopped, locking his brilliantly polished black boots together and clasping his hands.

“You’re early.”

“…I beg your pardon?”

I had to raise my voice a bit to be heard over the clamor of the train as it continued to pick up speed.

He appraised me with moderate disinterest for an uncomfortable moment. “The festival isn’t for another few weeks.”

“Oh, there’s a festival?”

Instead of responding, he turned and gestured for me to follow, which I didn’t mind given that I had no interest in continuing to shout over the train. Picking up my trunk, I walked beside him through the wide, white tile archway out to the other side of the terminal, where he stopped again. I set down my trunk once more.

The view laid out before me was, in a word, picturesque. A glimmering lake lapped lazily at the sandy shore ahead, while young pine trees rose on either side. Mountainous cliffs rose up above the distant far side of the lake, and a cute, well maintained little garden path led straight ahead before forking at right angles to the left and right.

“You’re not here for the festival, then.”

I glanced back at the station manager. “Well, seeing as how I was entirely uninformed of any festival until just a moment ago, and still remain largely uninformed — no, I would be inclined to say that I’m not.”

“I see.”

He paused, and I was about to lift my trunk again when he reached for it. “If I may?” I nodded, and he took hold of it, lifting it with surprising ease. “Briefcase as well?”

“No, I think I’ll hang on to it.”

No one, absolutely no one was going to handle my briefcase. The contents were far too… exceptional.

“Right then, I’ll take this to the inn.” He paused again. “There’s only one inn here in Phantasmagoria Falls. Take the path to the left and you won’t miss it.”

“Phantasmagoria Falls….” repeating the name of the town, I rolled it around in my mouth like an old, unpleasantly flavored lozenge. “Bit of a mouthful, isn’t it?”

The station manager chuckled as he began crunching his way down the gravel path, and I moved to follow him. “Yes, but you get used to it. I’m Ralph, by the way.”

“Tristan. Tristan Thornwood.”

Stopping abruptly, Ralph turned towards me. “I’ll go ahead and let you know now, the locals have a funny way with surnames.” I arched an eyebrow. “As in, they don’t use them. As long as you’re in town, you’re Tristan and nothing more.”

He shook his head as he started walking again. “Don’t ask me why. Can’t make heads nor tails of it myself.”

Frowning, I continued with him up to the fork, where we stopped yet again. “The square is that way,” he said, pointing to the right. “That’s where you’ll find the main shops and activity centers and the like.” He paused. “I can go ahead and drop this off for you if you’d like to stop at the square first.”

“Sure.” I paused. “Any other words of advice for me before we part ways?”

Ralph shrugged, or at least tried to — it was a rather awkward motion to attempt while carrying the trunk. “Don’t pay any mind to any of the rumors and dark tales you’ll catch floating about. It’s so damn peaceful here, they have to go making up problems to scare each other with.”

I chuckled at that, and Ralph just shook his head as he turned away. I doubt he understood the true cause of my amusement. From the way he just talked, it sounded like the people here would be more than willing to do my work for me.

But I wasn’t actually here for that. Not this time. No, I had decided to stop in Phantasmagoria Falls for a little vacation time on my way up to the northwestern coast.

I had had enough of small towns by this point. My reputation, skill, and experience at performing the part of the hero had grown enough that I felt it was time to make my debut in the metropolitan arena.

No more playing out in the sticks. A little time here to unwind…

And then I would kick things off in the big leagues.