My eyes opened to the first streaks of daylight streaming through the windows. Interrupting my yawn, a paw patted my forehead. I sat up and scratched behind the cat's ears as I rubbed my eyes. The cat giggled.

“I’m not really a cat, you know.”

“Ah- forgot. Sorry. Too early.”

Kill me.

The aroma of butter and syrup swallowed the room. With floating plates juggled around him, Gerald hopped out of the kitchen while Veronica and I took our seats at the table in the center of the room.

My fork peeled through pancake fluff and struck into crunchy strands of golden potatoes, scooping their soft, white undersides. I plunged my fork into the iron casing of a smoked sausage that sprung up its tines and gasped out steam. The warmth filled my cheeks and the corners of my mouth curled into a smile.

“Hey Veronica, with Runic Release have you ever had it where the world seems way clearer and it’s like everything slows down?”

“All the time dear.”

Eeh. So I wasn’t even getting the full effect of the spell all this time? Bleh-

After breakfast an afterthought crept through my mind that was abrupt in its resolution. I didn’t bring a change of clothes with me, but Veronica let me borrow some of her old dresses. She was a bit shorter than me, so they rode up higher than I’d like, but not as high as Evie’s gift did.

Upon saying my goodbyes to Gerald and Veronica, I charted a course to the cartographer’s shop. A sign hanging above the door with the words “East to West” painted upon it squeaked as it swayed with the breeze.

Inside, the entire right side of the room was barren, but on the left was everything an intrepid explorer could need. Maps, spyglasses, and compasses galore. There was even some equipment for climbing and diving.

The shop was run by a man named West who was- he was eccentric to say the least. All his maps were half a page of blank space and he only had one that was useful to me, a map that detailed the train routes throughout the western half of the nation of Alindra.

How that guy hasn’t faced any competition I’ll probably never know.

Following my purchase that left me eight mithril coins lighter, I wandered around the village’s eastern gate. With carriages being prepared around me, I chatted with a group of three mercers readying to make their way east to the nation of Mithveil’s capital, Ironwind. By any such luck, the road they were planning to travel would take them right by the station.

Four adamant coins departed my pouch as payment and we climbed into the cart. I plopped myself down against a pile of rolled up mats in the back of the cart. With a yell from the driver, their panda pulled its paws across gravel and dirt.

Our journey forked well beyond the eastern gate of Druidale across branching roads and past patches of travelers. To break up the monotonous noise from the wheels grinding along the path, I struck up conversation with the mat mercers.

“It must have been a lot of work to train a panda like that.”

The man sitting across from me chuckled and spoke with a whine like the strum of a stretched twine.

“Easier than you’d imagine. Bamu’s like a big ol’ dog. My buddies and I found him when he was just a cub in the North. Poor guy was picking at a family of Yetis’ trash for scraps, doing anything he could to survive. That was nearly twenty years ago, but he still acts like a youngin.”

“Are you originally from there?”

The driver called back to me from over his shoulder.

“Dale and I are, but Rolan used to be an adventurer who called it quits after he got lost up in the north end of the mountains right after signing up.”

Rolan bumped his elbow against the driver’s arm.

“Watch it Earl. Remember who offered to buy the first round when we get to Ironwind.”

“Too right, I’ll save the smack for after you buy us those drinks.”

The two up front wheezed in laughter while my mind was fixed on the lands beyond the northern mountains.

“I hope I can visit there one day.”

A concerned groan from the three mercers rolled over the cart. Earl turned to Rolan before tightening his grip on the reins.

“Look ma’am, there’s three places this side of the world you don’t want to end up in. Southern Leytania on the other side of Mithveil, the Corrupted Plains to the north of there, and the North to the north of here. Take our word on it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. It’s Marina, by the way.”

Dan pulled a piece of straw apart with his fingers before extending to shake my hand.

“A pleasure Marina, we don’t want to tell you what you should and shouldn’t do, but just take it as a warning from a group of old coots who’ve been to two out of three of those places and will never go back.”

We had spent two hours together on our journey, but before I knew it I was already saying my goodbyes as the road broke away from the isolated station.

Between two buildings rested a platform of red brick shaded by awnings that draped and waved in the wind. Along the outer edge, people sat on benches, reading newspapers and whispering amongst themselves while they took in the mid-morning air.

I stepped into the ticketing building on the right side of the platform. The slide of the door swept a magical breeze through my hair that grew goosebumps along my arms.

Behind the counter stood a woman with light blue hair parted by a pair of antlers. Pulled from my pocket, I placed a primal coin atop the counter. The woman behind it pulled out a scale with a small hole in the middle that she placed the coin on top of. After the sapphire in the middle of the coin glowed, she handed me my ticket along with six runic coins and four mithril coins in change.

Back outside, I sat on a bench beside an old woman wrapped in a patchwork of rags.

“Such a shame this time of year is. The sun may be bright, but not bright enough yet to beat out the wind.”

I glanced over at her but didn’t respond, because I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or not. When the weight of the awkwardness between us became too great I opened my mouth, but the words were drowned out by the blare of an approaching horn. Screeching from its strained wheels, the train chugged to a stop.

The platform became a disorganized dance of people cobbling together toward the train’s doors. When they opened, several staff exited the train to clear a path for the patrons who were already boarded.

When it was my turn, I stepped through the doors and onto a gray carpet lined with rows of red seats. Small chandeliers dangled from the ceiling, illuminating the aisle in a warm glow. The crowd forced me forward.

I walked through the cabin and stopped beside an angry patch of red hair.

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“Ah-”

“Uh-”

“What’re you doing here?” “What’re you doing here?”

Leaning toward me, a man dressed in a blue jacket spoke in a hushed tone.

“Ma’am, we’re getting ready to depart. If you wouldn’t mind taking a seat.”

“Ah- sorry.”

I scooched past the angry redhead and sat next to him, the puff of the cushion letting out a sigh under my weight. The window beside me looked like a painting of grass that met a forest’s edge. Vyas’s glare reflected into my eyes.

“Why’d you take that one?”

I don’t know, I was just told to take a seat, waah-

…

“Hey. I’m sorry I broke the runestone. I promise I’ll be more careful next time.”

He looked at me with a relaxed surprise.

“Don’t worry about it. Stuff happens. It probably wasn’t your fault. I’m on vacation now anyway- work’s behind me.”

“Where you headed?”

“Witcheim. There’s a runecrafter out there that might be able to help me with a problem I’ve got.”

“I thought you were on vacation?”

“This is for - a personal project.”

“Making us look less blurry?”

“…”

“When did you figure it out?”

“Mm- just now, but it kinda started after you yelled at me in your shop. You have a pretty unique kind of angry. It was just kinda hard to piece together in the moment, because your voice is so different in real life.”

A voice rang throughout the train.

“Thank you for riding the Central Expressway. We will soon be departing station twelve to Silverkeep. That will be our last destination before entering the nation of Stelvera. If you are not approved for international travel, we ask that you exit upon arrival at our next stop. Please place your ticket into the slot on the end of your armrest. We hope you have an enjoyable ride.”

Pulled from our pinched grips, our tickets were sucked into the armrest before a cute chime sung against our ears. I was still staring down at my hand when a point poked my shoulder. Turning my attention to Vyas, I took a menu he held out to me as he returned his to a stewardess.

“Just a coffee.”

I glanced over the menu for half a minute.

“Can I get - mm.”

Another moment of glancing. Vyas’s eye twitched.

“Red velvet cupcakes. Ah- and cheesy bread. Do you have any dip for them? - Ehe~ I’ll have the marinara. Ah- and a stick of plum dumplings. No wait, make it two. Some salty chocolate pretzels - pumpkin pie, but without the crust- just the filling, and-”

Vyas ripped the menu out of my hand. My arms flailed past him, trying to grab it back.

“Oyoyo- Vil.”

“Don’t call me that. I’m Vyas out here. You’re holding up the line.”

I jumped up and called back to the stewardess.

“Ah- and some elderberry tea with three spoonfuls of sugar and milk please~”

I plopped back down with a sigh.

“It’s gonna take me a while to get used to Vyas, but now that I know it’s you you’re a lot less scary.”

“What do you mean I’m scary?”

“But come on, who’s the mysterious mister Dibil?

“The son of the dwarven forge’s managing director. Dolas Rhustar.”

“Heh? Loric’s brother?”

“Who’s Loric?”

“Long story. I’ll tell you about it when our food- eh- I guess just order gets here. You’re only gonna have a coffee?”

“I’ve been on this thing since last night. We just had breakfast an hour ago.”

“Oo~, what’d ya have? Was it yummy?”

“A bowl of oatmeal.”

“Ah- bland.”

“Shut it. If your breakfasts are so special, what did you have?”

“Pancakes guzzled in raspberry syrup, pepper smoked sausage, and salty hashbrowns~”

“Tsk. Show-off.”

Our chuckles were drowned out by the clacks of a cart being pushed down the aisle toward us. In preparation and anticipation we pulled the trays down from the backs of the seats in front of us. A man with a white mustache that looked like a beard if you squinted hard enough passed my buffett piece by piece past Vyas. His eye twitched each time the man leaned over him.

Last but not least, with my humble helping divided out, the man placed Vyas drink in front of him. His tiny cup of coffee looked sad next to my feast of snacks I was ready to sink my teeth into. As I picked at my food I gave Vyas the cliff-notes of my time in Druidale, a story that in retrospect seems insulting to wrap up in a summary. Sorry, Loric.

“Why’d you give the special runestone to Dolas?”

“What better person to be friends with as a runecrafter than a master blacksmith? Guy’s an artist. His dad gets all the credit, but Dolas is the one pumping out all their best works.”

He wrapped his fingers around the handle of his coffee.

“Evie was because she’s a genius alchemist.”

A thin layer of steam blew away from his cup.

“You were just part of a package deal.”

“Best deal ever though, right?”

“Biggest regret of my life.”

“Eyuh~ come on, I know you don’t mean that.”

A smirk caught the lip of his cup.

Vyas took one of my chocolate pretzels and tossed it to his mouth. At least, he tried. It bounced off the side of his mouth and landed on his lap. He brushed it off like it never existed.

I picked the bite-sized pretzel up off the floor and popped it in my mouth.

“Mm~, don’t litter.”

“If you don’t do something like that again. Gladly. That floor is disgusting.”

“Looks clean to me. Five second rule, relax, it’s fine. Tastes the same.”

“The taste isn’t the problem, moron.”

That’s pushing it.

I poked my finger against his cheek and took a bite of plum dumpling. Its skin peeled and revealed a soft treat. Sweet and savory. Conflicted emotions? How do you feel dear reader?

“And don’t call your friends icky names.”

He swatted my finger away and rested his head against his hand with the same relaxed smile.

The words went unspoken, but the revelation of Vyas’s identity and his connection to Alaphan had both our minds racing. Disinformation. Red herrings. Surveillance. The silence that followed was a dance of two minds led by speculation. We had the chance to pick paranoia as our dance partners, but instead let things lie for now, because at the end of the day we were all friends. Weren’t we?