"Remember to file that letter from Mills away when we get back to the keep." I grunt at Christina as our horses gallop past the crumbling crystal spikes jutting out of the ground, "The Knight Commander needs it as proof that the job's been done."

I don't bother listening to Christina's response as the towers of Deshawn City crest the horizon, peeking shyly at the pair of us as we make our way out of the beyond. Already patches of lush grass can be seen strewn about as Christina and I leave the blighted crystalline wasteland behind us. I manipulate the horse's reins, steering it toward the cobbled highway just ahead. Damn, I'm already feeling saddle sore.

Another day, another bag of copper.

" - what made you do it Mac?" my ears catch the tail end of whatever the temporary apprentice has been warbling about. I turn around and fix Christina a quizzical look.

"Becoming a magic knight." Christina says, though her voice wavers for an instant, "I mean, its fine if you don't want to talk about it, I didn't mean to pry into something private."

"Its fine." I shrug noncommittally, "A question for you first though. Why did you choose to become a magic knight?"

"Well," Christina brightens up as she realizes that I've not taken offence at the question, "I suppose it was because of the romance?"

"Romance?" I repeat, taken slightly off balance by the unexpected answer.

"Yes! The romance!" Christina happily chirps, "The stories about Hero Gallant, his adventures and the companions he met along the way? And their journey into the Beyond where they fought the demon king? Don't you think there's a sense of grandeur, of -"

"Yeah. Romance. I get it." I nod in agreement. Christina's right in a way. There's an undeniable glamor that surrounds the profession of Magic Knight. And despite myself, I do feel the pull of "romance" when I traverse the Beyond on an assignment. Its the kind of gravitas that you experience when you sally out to battle against a grand backdrop. Like for a moment, you've become greater than what you usually were.

Even if that romance is occasionally tarred by the need to skewer a goblin warlord through the anus with your sword.

Wow. That sounded dirty. And not in a good way.

"Both of us were born too late to fight the demon king." I grunt affably, "So do you still feel that romance after your first field assignment?"

"Well ..." Christina hesitates and I break into laughter at her discomfort.

Our horses gallop onward, passing a large metal arch. A length of railway track extends from the lip of the arch toward Deshawn City in the distance and heavy cables run alongside it, connecting the arch directly to the train station back home. As I smirk to myself at Christina's discomfort, the apprentice suddenly pipes up again.

"Yes. I felt it." Christina says, her voice firm, "The romance was there. It was not what I imagined it to be, but it was there all the same, Mac."

"Hang on to that feeling, Christina." I affirm graciously, "When things get tough, and they will, its that feeling that will help you push through."

"How about you?" Christina pursues her original question, "Why did you become a knight?"

"I don't know." I shrug, "As far as I'm concerned, I've always been a knight." Christina makes a confused sound at my statement and I scratch my hair, trying to find the words.

"Its like this," I sigh, a feeling of awkwardness falling over me, "I wasn't born in Deshawn City. I originally came from Springvale, a village on the kingdom's outskirts."

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"I think I know where that is." Christina hums, "Springvale is supposed to be famous for its potatoes right?"

"Something like that. Though frankly, I've always reckoned that potatoes taste bland." I agree, "Filling but forgettable. There was Springvale. And then my life began."

"I'm not sure I understand?" Christina frowns and muses, with her face scrunched up in mild perplexity.

"The keep serves potatoes every weekend for dinner." I explain, waving a hand about in consternation, "Do you remember what they taste like?"

"Not really. Like potatoes I suppose?" Christina hazards a guess.

A sour feeling begins to settle in my stomach and I feel my figurative hackles rise. Why am I getting worked up over something so trivial? The words always seem so hard to come by whenever I think of Springvale. Just got to power through, that's all.

"That's right. You know you ate potatoes for dinner." I sigh, "Just like I know I was born in Springvale and my parents have a farm there. Filling but forgettable. Those potatoes probably came from Springvale now that I think about it."

"It can't have been that bad." Christina smiles broadly, "I know Springvale can't compare to Deshawn City, but you must have had friends and fun there, right Mac?"

"Probably?" I muse while rubbing my chin, "Like I said, I have always been a knight."

"There's no shame in coming from a small town." Christina replies calmly, but there's a hint of reprimand buried in her tone.

I begin to formulate a response, but cold sweat breaks out all over my back. Damn it, why does it always have to be like this? I'm not ashamed of Springvale, despite what Christina thinks. Its just that, whenever I want to talk about the place, it somehow becomes so difficult. Like when you want to describe the taste of potato. You know it has a taste, but when you actually bite into it, you get nothing.

I know I had friends in Springvale. I know my parents are well off, though not at the level of nobility. I have a younger brother and sister. These are all facts lodged in my head. Facts that have the bland consistency of plain mashed potato. Something so deeply average that you couldn't actually recall anything other than the broad strokes. Irritation begins to crawl up my gullet as I wrestle with the feelings Christina's questions had stirred up. But before I can vent my annoyance, a loud buzzing emits from the metal arch and an electric pressure settles over both of us.

"Back away from the tracks." I instruct Christina while urging my horse forward, "A train is coming through."

And right on cue, the arch emits a loud howl as it channels the pure magical energy being pumped through the cables. Lightning crackles around the edges of the metal as a spiraling vortex of power forms within the arch's confines. Christina stares spellbound as the display as the churning vortex grows steadily larger.

"First time seeing a gate open?" I ask, relieved that Christina had lost interest in her original question.

"My family doesn't have a trade permit." Christina whispers in awe, "We aren't allowed to ride the trains."

"Yeah, the Beyond really messed with travel." I mutter.

The Beyond separated the kingdom from its nearest neighbors. Crossing its entire expanse by horse was technically possible, but incredibly dangerous, with the monsters lurking about and the toxicity of the land itself. But whenever the Beyond takes with one hand, it always gives back with the other. The wealth of raw magical energy harvested from the Beyond made certain feats possible.

Like ripping a hole in the fabric of reality to link to distant places together.

The vortex of power now encompasses the entire breadth of the arch and there's a loud pop, causing my ears to ring. And a large grey colored train tears its way out of the vortex, belching thick white smoke its engine. The rail track trembles as the train slams its full weight on to it, and the contraption begins steaming its way toward Deshawn City. Emblazoned on the train's side is a coat of arms showing a lion bearing a crown on its brow.

The knightly House of Robeur.

"BY ROYAL APPOINTMENT" the words beneath the coat of arms shout.

Trains and the gates that allowed them to travel to other places were a strategic asset. So it was no surprise you needed royal assent to operate one and ply the related trade route. As the train chugs along, hauling several baggage cars behind it, the crew poke their heads out and noticing the colors Christina and I wear, wave at us. I return the gesture automatically, my mind already on other things. The buzzing from the gate dies down and the vortex winks out just like that, as if it had never existed in the first place.

"Let's get going." I mutter, "You can make your way back to the keep by yourself, right?"

"Aren't we supposed to report back together, Mac?" Christina turns to me, surprise on her face.

"I just remembered that I've an appointment to keep back at Deshawn City." I explain, "All you need to do is file Mills' letter anyway. Once you're done you can take the rest of the day off."

At the thought of some free to to herself, Christina perks up immediately and the two of us urge our horses to go faster, as we trail after the dust cloud kicked up by the train.