They offloaded from the ferry in the light of dusk. The clouds had begun their thunderous torrent hours ago, making the crossing long and miserable. When the lights of Calais broke over the horizon, Gale let out a silent cheer, and now he sat readied for his turn to disembark into the coming night.

Watching the cars and vans and lorries disembark reminded him of the starting gun for a race of a hundred different journeys. He hoped in whispered tones that, maybe some of them would take his story of gleaming towers with them. Maybe they'd believe him, maybe they'd tell others…

Maybe they'd nurture a new chapter for this tale...

It had been the gossip of the bar, the mutterings of bored crewmembers, the news, his words and his sons. Yet no one else had taken the interest to ask more, even as he sipped his salt water at the bar with the bruises on his arms exposed for all to see.

No one really cared more than idle conversation. They now proved that.

Gale fired off a thumbs up as the crewmember waved him off. Engine, In gear, Handbrake. He rolled away.

Into the night...

The checkpoint was quick. A simple wave through and no sideways look. The French autoroute unfurled ahead of him, seaming to wind around and then up into the black and silver sky at the horizon. Somewhere, in that direction, was where she was hopefully waiting.

He hadn't given Carola much thought the whole trip, his mind on the more important matters of the heart. He checked his watch as he drove, ten o'clock…

Had they done it yet? Had it started?

He loaded another cigarette into place, pushing the thoughts away that threatened to make tears breach, and made his heart race even faster. With careful breaths he pushed on. His eyes locked on that ever approaching horizon.

An hour went by.

And then another.

Several more as well, vanishing under the flickering sodium light and twisting darkness. His fellow passengers had now completely dispersed. He'd watched them peel away one after another, their own journeys just beginning. It seemed fitting he now drove the highway alone. Not like anyone else was with him. Even the rain faded long ago.

At a service station he finally caught sight of how far was left. He probably wasn't half way yet. He cursed his impatience, as well as the speed limit. With his arms filled with caffeine of various forms he made sure steps back to his stallion of the night. They rained into the footwell with a cacophony of thuds, the packets of cigarettes got far nicer treatment.

More hours rolled by, and the Mercedes rolled on, completely alone. Gale's mind had drifted long ago. His consciousness weaved through the forest of thought, hidden in the mists of fear and beset upon by the rain of hope. Yet the snap back to reality was as sharp and sudden as a slap to the face.

He reread the sign, then again. The certainty set in.

He was there.

He weaved the streets, eyes peeled on the road and on the skyline between the houses. He searched for it. It would surely stand out.

He half whooped as he saw it hove into view. The church's spire touched the heavens. It's hall sat proud just as it should, and lingering only just in shadow was the faintest of silhouettes.

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"Carola." He spoke aloud, imaging her in the City, he smiled at the thought that crossed his mind, he had made it. The time had come.

Time to save his world.

Gale made the effort to roll up gently and slowly. Taking care to let her spot him first, to let her make the first move…

He slowed to a stop when she stepped forth.

The major difference he could tell from here between the Carola of the City, and the Carola of the real world was her hair. Its ebony sheen reflected the light of the street lamps, dyed silver locks were striped across it like slashes of light in the darkness. Its length was substantially shorter, only just longer than Gale's. She looked at the car as it drove past slowly, coming to a halt not far away.

"Here we go." He whispered to himself, he opened the door. In his mirror her eyebrow quirked. The expression of shock plastered her face as he stepped out. She took a step back as he slowly walked towards her. The shock in her emerald eyes was ever present. Gale could see her face had more than one scar staining it. A faint one crossed her mouth, over both her lips and up towards her nose. Another curved across her cheek, wicked scars of fights long gone.

All the minor details she refused to bring with her into the City of Dreams.

"Wie ben Je?" She snapped at him. Gale ran his hand through his hair. He took another step forward, earning a step back in turn.

"We met in the City, can't remember how long ago. At the base of the clock tower…" He said, the look of shock turned to one of suspicion. "The City is now fractured, taking its last breath."

"No, you're lying." She responded in English, earning a scowl across Gale's weathered face. He scratched the grey hairs on his chin. His look told her everything, she took a step forward. "Gale?"

"Hello Carola." His long ragged voice croaked. He took a step forward as well, closing the distance between them to a few meters.

"How have you done this?" she asked him, still suspicious. Gale took a deep breath.

"In the city, we are who we are inside. How we see ourselves. Same as you don't see yourself with those two scars…" Gale said, she looked away, hiding them in the profile of her face that remained untouched. "I… I should've explained."

He trailed off for a moment.

"In the City, I am who I was when I met my wife… Forty years ago…" he finished, Carola's eyes grew wide again. She cocked her head, surveying the aged man infront of her. She searched for signs of the Gale she knew.

"So how old are you, really?" she asked, her words careful. Gale looked down.

"I probably should have said when we met…" He looked back up, Carola gestured for him to continue. "I'm Sixty seven."

Carola looked on in shock. She slowly found her words.

"So you're over… three times… my age?" She spoke aloud. "That's creepy at best… Man I thought you were a lot younger…"

"What's the point of living out your desires and dreams if you have to do it with a zimmer frame?" Gale asked, his voice completely flat. She recognised the tone. The mannerisms were there. She was silent for a moment, eventually she nodded.

"So tell me, Gale. What do we do?" Carola's voice was firm. Gale could see the woman from the City return to her, as he returned to himself.

"You're ok… with this?" He asked, still unsure himself.

"Have no choice, do I if we want to get this done. But..." Carola said, she reached into her inside pocket, pulling an object out just enough for him to see. She gestured at the still hidden scars. "I learned the hard way, I am always prepared."

"At least you feel safe." He said, he rapidly back pedalled. "Not to sound creepy, you have a Browning after all."

Carola quirked an eyebrow as he turned back to the car, his back wide open.

"How you know it's a Browning?" she asked as she followed him. He looked back over his shoulder, stumbling briefly on the pavement before coming to stand at the cars side.

"I've done my time carrying one for my country, don't you worry." He said with a smile. She came up beside him. Gale smiled and pointed over the car. "That side, it's British."

She muttered a long stream of curses in her mother tongue, as she walked round the car. She looked back over the roof to see Gale chuckling away.

"It is an overly proud lump of German crap you're right." He said with a smile. She was silent again, her eyebrow cocked. He threw his arms out. "C'mon do you really think at sixty seven I wouldn't have learned some languages?"

Carola stood still at the door, she had a frustrated frown on her face, and it showed in her tone. "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere where we can work undisturbed."

Carola was doubtful for a moment, she glanced over her shoulder. Then all around. She savoured the what she felt would be the last moments she'd spend in her hometown. She only entered the car as it's engine roared back to life.