A MicroDragon's tail swished against Jonas's face as he stood in a packed ManaRail carriage. The little purple creature was maintaining elevation with its own anti-gravity spell, but out of habit perhaps, or just as a quirk of its own, it would occasionally flap its tiny wings and wriggle that short tail from side to side.

Yes, you’re cute, but one more slap of that tail against my face and -

Jonas couldn’t take it anymore. "Excuse me, can the owner of this MicroDragon get your flying pet outta my face for just a moment?" His voice cut through the chatter on the train and the occasional squeaking of its grooves against the rails.

A puffy-faced man snorted in response, then stood up from his seat, displaying his purple-vested torso in all its corpulent glory. He trudged forward to the center of the carriage, taking slow, intimidating steps, and using his chubby hands, pushed aside the standing passengers who were in his way. With an eyebrow cocked, the man inspected the teenaged boy, who looked up at him without a shred of fear or anger, emotions that he was used to seeing. Instead, all that greeted him was a tired face, devoid of expression.

To any on-looker, Jonas appeared average in every aspect; neither too tall nor too short, sporting short brown hair and black eyes. He was the typical teenager who would be standing in the corner and minding his own business, someone that most people would simply gloss over and completely miss. His shoulders were slightly slumped, betraying a lack of self-confidence that jarred a little with the daring complaint he just voiced.

Just one look at Jonas sapped all the angry, confrontational energy out from the larger man. There was something about him that made one feel bad about starting an argument.

"Summon, it's a summon, not a pet," the man muttered irately under his breath, "these silly country bumpkins barely know a single imp's butt about magic."

Despite that, Jonas’s complaint had real grounds to stand on. ManaRails prohibited summoned creatures from straying further than an arm’s length from their summoner, and this MicroDragon was currently quite a distance away from its owner’s seat.

Sighing, the large, rotund man slapped a black control collar round the neck of that tiny creature, and squeezed back through the crowd to his seat, huffing and puffing with every step. The MicroDragon let loose a blue ring of smoke from its mouth in sulky protest before following its owner back, drooping tail and all.

Jonas looked at the purple MicroDragon with a sense of sympathy that began to fade as quickly as it had formed. As much as he found summoned creatures intriguing and even adorable in the right contexts, his mind was fully preoccupied with his own challenges this morning. At the end of his abhorrently long train ride, he was to present himself at that renowned magic school for their open house reception. As an introvert, he was not looking forward to it at all.

What was it called again? Some pretentious name like "HeartSpell" or something. I hope they don’t make me play stupid icebreaker games with strangers that I barely know.

It did not help that the air-conditioning was colder than what his nose could handle; the mage who was in charge of the refrigerant in the train probably overdid the frostiness. Jonas sniffed and tried to hold back his leaking nose.

Worse still, the only ticket he managed to get was the cheapest one. This promised boarding, but not necessarily sitting. And on such a crowded ride, Jonas could only bemoan the fate of his knees as he waited for a passenger in his vicinity to alight. He already had plans for the optimal number of steps he needed to take to get to the various seats around him, should any of those passengers so much as indicate that they might be standing up.

If he had a choice, Jonas would not be on this train.

If he had a choice, he would not be studying magic.

He had been thinking about it for the past few days - a boy who had never cast a spell his entire life, riding to the Capital Country and enrolling in one of the top magic schools in the region.

A preposterous idea, isn’t it?

If he had a say in it, he would not have made such a preposterous decision.

But his dad had been a victim of the Technomagic Revolution, and had not found a job for three years. So, his fate was sealed.

Once I’m done with this school, I can get a job anywhere. And my family will live a better life. I guess that’s what it is. I guess that’s my life now.

Suddenly, as if fate itself was taking pity on him, the passenger who was right next to Jonas vacated his seat to get off at the next stop. Without hesitation, the boy took a single step, slid his way into the now-empty seat and rested his bum on the cushion. It was a smooth motion, exactly as how he had envisioned it in his mind, and he was proud of it.

He allowed himself to smile. Just a small one – right at the corner of his lips.

As he looked around in satisfaction at his new cozy abode, a little red button at the side of the seat caught his eye.

“Summon the Service Faery,” read the sign plastered next to it. “There’s only one per carriage, so please be patient. Our dear Service Faery might be attending to other esteemed passengers as well! Brought to you by the ForwardMotion Company.”

Jonas hovered his index finger over the button, pursed his lips, then pressed it. It was the first time he was on the ManaRail, and his curiosity got the better of him.

In an instant, he spotted a tiny flying creature, no bigger than the size of his fist, bobbing up and down in midair towards him. It was smaller than the MicroDragon, and he squinted at it to make sure that he wasn’t seeing things. As the faery fluttered closer, he could make out its form, and even got to scrutinize the miniature clothes that hung on its body.

It looked androgynous and humanoid, with an oversized train conductor’s cap on its head. The faery was self-conscious and would adjust it every few seconds, only for it to tip over again. Its blue and white uniform, in contrast, was very well-fitting, clinging to its lithe form in a manner that made it look smart and official.

“Hullo, I’m the Service Faery for carriage number eight. I trust you’ve been enjoying your ride on the ManaRail so far! How may I assist you today?”

Jonas stared at it for a bit longer than he would dare to admit.

The faery’s voice cut through the silence. “Yea, yea, I know what you’re thinking. ‘Her voice is way too loud for her size,’ Hmf!” It pouted, placing one slender arm on its hips. Its prim and proper tone turned slightly petulant, catching Jonas off guard. “I’ll have you know that the ForwardMotion Company also provides the VoiceAmplifier spell to all its Service Faeries on the ManaRail okay, we’re not that cheapskate you know!”

At the height of its self-confident posturing, the large conductor's cap tipped forward awkwardly, covering all but the grimace on the faery's mouth. Jonas tried his best to stifle a laugh. With its slim, elongated fingers, the faery adjusted the hat, cleared its throat, and returned to its professional sounding voice, "So dear esteemed passenger, how may I help you this splendid afternoon?"

“Ahem. Sorry. Uhm… do you happen to have a map of the ManaRail line? I’d just like to see how many more stops I have before my destination.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Ah yes, a very common request. Please give me a moment.” It reached behind its back into a tiny pocket, and pulled out a large screen that was easily ten times its size.

Startled, Jonas put his hands out under the screen, anticipating that the faery would be unable to hold up the weight on its own. The faery batted away his hands with its tiny palm, a frustrated frown visible on its brows, and held up the entire screen with ease using just a single hand.

“It’s a FloatingScreen. Don’t tell me you haven’t seen one before?”

Back when the Technomagic Revolution was sweeping over the country, it was one of the most ubiquitous products around. His family could not afford it though, so this was the first time for him to see one.

The screen looked as sharp as some of the best tablet screens, but from the advertisements he’d seen, it ran on mana rather than batteries, making it last much longer. And more importantly, it floated. Jonas had watched enviously as the other kids in his neighborhood operated on it with both hands like a laptop, not having to waste a hand clutching the screen.

When I get a job after graduating from this stupid school, that’s gonna be one of the first things I buy.

The faery released its grip and let the tablet float conveniently in front of Jonas’s face. It fluttered its wings a bit and began flitting back and forth, typing a few commands onto it. Soon enough, a map appeared.

On it was the familiar geography of the Nostriva Federation, a map that all Nostrivan children past the age of seven knew by heart. Nostriva was a political bloc that consisted of seven countries. Each of those countries were very large, and the ForwardMotion Company had built the ManaRail transportation line to connect all seven countries together.

Jonas hailed from Western Caschian, the west-most country in Nostriva. His eyes gravitated to the left-most section of the map, but struggled to find where exactly he was at. On the map, he saw numerous dots that represented train stations, and thin lines that diverged like veins into all seven countries.

“I guess you only need to see the Nostriva Grand Line.” The faery tapped on the screen, and most of the dots and lines disappeared, leaving only a single thick line, dotted by numerous stations, that connected all seven countries.

There was a flashing red dot that marked the upcoming station. “Ah, I’m already at Eastern Caschian,” said Jonas. That was the country just neighboring his own.

The faery, who had been discretely looked up Jonas’s destination through the digital ticketing system, said “Traveling to the Capital Country, eh? Seems like you have a long way to go, dear esteemed passenger. Astriva is still thirty-seven stops and three whole countries away.”

“Yeah! How did you know I was headed to Astriva?”

“We faeries have our ways.” It refused to divulge that the technomagical ticketing system made that information just a quick SpellSearch away.

“It’s gonna be a long train ride. Say, do you happen to have any food on the train?”

“No! You’ve got to bring your own. What do you take us for, a charity?” Its voice turned petulant again.

The faery squeezed the FloatingScreen back into what Jonas suspected was a dimension-altering back pocket, and fluttered away, attending to yet another passenger’s call at the other side of the carriage.

Ah shoot, there goes my chance of getting a snack.

Jonas had been standing for the past six hours, so when he sat down earlier, his knees creaked, and his aching muscles turned to jelly. With over thirty stops to go, he surmised that the train ride would take at least another fifteen hours. Once again, he marveled at the odds of getting a seat on such a crowded carriage, and then heaved a huge sigh as he gave in to his exhaustion.

You can rest now, my dear, dear, pair of legs…

In a second, he dozed off.

ManaRails were very sturdy forms of transportation, but just after he fell asleep, the carriage that he was in suddenly rocked from side to side. It wasn’t a large disruption, and most passengers wrote it off as a small technical fault. Still, it caused many to turn their heads toward the small side windows that lined the walls of the carriage. But none of them could spot what caused the impact, and in time, it was forgotten.

Whatever that shook the train did not shake it enough to rouse the exhausted Jonas, and so he continued sleeping blissfully, unaware of what was going on outside.

~-------*-------~

How did it turn to this?

It was supposed to be a simple raid-and-run operation on one of the factories at the outskirts of the city, but instead, they found themselves being chased all the way to this open field. A field that had a ManaRail line running through it.

The Coalesce was an organization that strove for two things. One was to stand up against the spread of technomagicry in the Nostriva Federation. The second was to always be on the side of the people.

If the fighting got too close to the ManaRail, where innocent working-class people commuted with on a daily basis, the High Lord would have his head on the chopping block.

But he had to do this. That pesky Peacekeeper was on his heels, and the rest of his team was too inexperienced to escape safely. As the team leader for this operation, he needed to pull off this high-risk maneuver to distract the damn Peacekeeper and let his team survive.

Dotting the field were tower-like structures that held up elevated train tracks, where the ManaRail was slated to pass over. The elevation supposedly provided a more scenic view for passengers, especially over such a wide, green field.

Heck, if I threatened to collapse one of these towers, will the Peacemaker turn his attention to me? He tightened his grip on his staff. But my magic just isn’t strong enough to make a dent in these sturdy towers, and I bet he knows that.

Despite the odds, he had to try anyway. Gritting his teeth, he steered his gryphon toward the rails. With a fierce cry, the creature spread its wings and swooped towards the metallic structure. He gestured for his team to escape in the opposite direction.

Now, to pray for a miracle…

The whistling sound of an oncoming ManaRail was like music to his ears.

“There! Hundreds of civilians on a flimsy little train. I’m sure you know what you need to do,” he jeered at the Peacekeeper, blasting a bolt of ice at the rapidly pursuing mage. His taunting caused his target to turn toward him, letting the rest of his team slip away.

The Peacekeeper was riding on what looked like a sleek flying board, his leather boots strapped onto the silver oval. The board had a jet at the back, and right now, it was firing at full blast, propelling the Peacekeeper closer and closer toward the Coalesce insurgent.

Damn. The FlightSurfer is fast.

He fired off more bolts of ice at his pursuer, hoping to throw the Peacekeeper off the FlightSurfer. But despite the powerful, unidirectional jet of flame, the board was able to pitch quickly from side to side, allowing the Peacekeeper to easily dodge the attacks.

“Disgusting technomagicry,” spat the insurgent, who guessed that the Peacemaker’s FlightSurfer was not solely powered by fuel, but also flight magic, which explained its unearthly aerial dexterity.

His gryphon was now under the train, and he pointed his staff at the train tracks in a threatening manner. From the corner of his eye, he could see his team riding off on their summoned land mounts, scattering into the urban zone far in the distance.

Just a bit more of this farce and I’ll make a run for it too.

“Move away from the train,” ordered the Peacekeeper in a firm voice. The man was dressed in full gear, from the armored vest to the solid helmet that kept his eyes hidden by a visor. He looked intimidating, but from their earlier scuffle at the factory, the Coalesce insurgent knew better.

Heh. This guy doesn’t do emotion-based casting; he ain’t one of the higher tier Peacekeepers. I can hold him here.

One was on a gryphon, whose wings swooshed in a rhythmic manner to keep itself midair, while the other activated the auto-hover function on his FlightSurfer to remain stationary. Their stand-off only lasted for five seconds.

It was the Peacekeeper who moved first, dangling his trinket in midair while muttering a chant.

Damn, you’re not thinking of actually casting a spell here are you?!

Since it wasn’t emotion-based casting, the spell took a while to cast, and the Coalesce insurgent took that chance to blast more ice bolts at the Peacekeeper. But the chanting mage would not stay still in mid-air. Without breaking his chant, his fingers twitched to form specific hand seals, causing the FlightSurfer move and dodge the incoming shots.

A multiple medium caster huh. Sucks that he can move his FlightSurfer while casting another spell. I guess he’s not that bad after all.

After the Peacekeeper finished the last line of his chant, a slab of earth materialized in front of the trinket, and shot forth at the gryphon at a high speed. It wasn’t lethal, but given its mass and speed, a solid hit would incapacitate the creature for sure.

The insurgent pulled on one side of the gryphon’s harness, and banked to the right, barely dodging the shot. He spat out some of the soil that crumbled off as the projectile flew past his head.

Oh shit.

He survived the attack, but his dodge meant that the slab of earth would continue on in its path and hit whatever was behind him – the train.

“Damn it!” shouted the insurgent, “I thought ‘not endangering civilians’ should be part of the ‘peacekeeping’ package!”

Eyeing the impacted carriage, he saw it wobble a bit, but unlike what he expected, it quickly righted itself and the train barely took any damage.

“You think I didn’t take that into calculation?” the Peacekeeper retorted back. “I held back on the ‘Mass’ perimeter of that spell so the train wouldn’t be in danger even if it missed. Not that you’d understand the complex spell engineering involved - you’re just an upstart terrorist!”

At the corner of his eye, the Coalesce team leader saw that all his teammates were already out of view. He whistled at his gryphon who took the cue and dashed off toward the urban zone.

Yeah, keep yapping while I make my exit. One man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter, you government dog.