Mirian took a step back and raised her hands in the air.
“Who are you really?” Sire Nurea said, voice low and dangerous.
“Still just Mirian. I’m not going to stop you, I’m just taking the train too.” She kept her hands up and voice steady, despite the gun still pointed at her.
The guard had tensed up too. His hand had gone to one of the wands at his belt. It was still sheathed, but he was looking right at Nurea. “Ma’am,” he started, then seeing the ornate gold clasp on Nurea’s cloak, he said, “Sire. Is there a problem?”
“We can talk on the train. I’ll explain everything,” Mirian said.
She could tell Sire Nurea still didn’t like that, but she holstered the gun, though she was still tensed. “No problem. Just jumpy today. There’s been a threat on my ward’s life.”
The guard, Roland, still had his hand on his wand. “Do you believe the girl is involved?”
Nurea hesitated. Finally she said, “No,” and relaxed slightly.
Nicolus, who had apparently been holding his breath, exhaled. “Gods, Nur,” he said quietly. Apparently his knight-protector had scared him too.
“We’re good?” Roland asked.
“Yeah. Sorry for the scare,” Nurea said.
Finally, the guard relaxed. The three of them then stood around awkwardly, getting some stares from the other folks on the platform. Mirian hated standing out in a crowd, but she endured it until the conductor at last opened up the passenger cars.
Mirian sat across from Nurea and Nicolus. Probably because of the gun that was pulled earlier, the few other passengers gave them plenty of space, with most of them ending up in the other train cars. As soon as they were seated, the knight immediately asked her, “What do you know? Who are you working for?”
“Nothing and no one,” Mirian said. “You won’t believe me if I tell you how I know.”
“Try me.”
“Time travel.”
Nurea glared at her. “You’re right, I don’t believe you.”
“I want to know how you know. There’s nothing in the newspapers. Professor Torres talked to her contacts in the military and none of them see any sort of suspicious buildup or anything. How do you find out?”
Nicolus sounded confused. “Military buildup? What are you talking about?”
Nurea sat back in her seat. “What do you think we know?”
Mirian looked between the two of them. What was she missing? “Akana Praediar’s surprise attack on Torrviol in seven days. Well, six days now, I guess.”
“The what!?” Nicolus practically shouted. One more passenger moved cars to get away from them. “Sorry, the what?”
“You know more than we do, it seems.”
Mirian threw up her hands, though she kept her voice low enough to not carry. “Well, please, tell me what you do know. It seems a bit unfair that I’ve told you my two secrets and you’re withholding yours.”
Nicolus looked at Nurea, and Nurea back at him. Some sort of meaningful information must have been exchanged between the two of them, because Nicolus finally said, “Oh come on. Throw her a bone.”
“Fine. All we know is that we received warning that something big was coming, and to meet the family at Palendurio.”
“From your uncle?”
Nicolus didn’t say anything. Nurea said, “I did warn you.”
“You said he was in Akana Praediar.”
“That’s not even a secret,” Nicolus said, exasperated.
“And yet,” Nurea said.
Frustrated, Mirian said, “Can we stop having two different conversations, one of which I’m not a part of? I know you all have your elite noble political things to do, but I’m just trying to save lives. Someone needs to get Torrviol evacuated, or barring that, get the Baracuel military to show up early so they can set up a proper defense. Otherwise, a lot of people die. Like, everyone in Torrviol. Any friends, acquaintances, or people named Calisto. Everyone.”
“Well one good thing comes out of it then,” muttered Nicolus. “Right, maybe not a good joke. But really—how do you know this?”
“Time travel,” Mirian said again. “It’s how I knew you were having study sessions. It’s why I was asking all those pointed questions about ‘so why would Akana attack Baracuel, hypothetically?’ They do. I’ve seen it, twice now. They have these giant airships that show up and cause a total rout, then they slaughter everyone left, and I don’t even know why!”
“It does sound unbelievable,” Nicolus said.
“Obviously. That’s why I’ve barely tried to convince anyone this cycle. If I had meaningful predictions and irrefutable evidence, I wouldn’t be on this train. But I’ve decided to live this time. I can protect my little brother from the coming war at the very least.”
“I didn’t know you had a little brother,” Nicolus said.
“Yeah,” Mirian said. “And he’s cuter than anyone in the world.”
“You’re from… east. Where again?”
“Arriroba.”
Nicolus was silent. He looked at Nurea, who shrugged. “My geography is failing me, apologies.”
“I doubt it’s on any map you’ve seen. North of Madinahr, which is east of Alkazaria.”
The boy snapped his fingers. “Now that one I have heard of!” he said, which made Nurea roll her eyes. Of course he’d heard of Baracuel’s second capital.
The train chugged along slowly. It was an older train, so the spell engine was outdated. It only did ‘slow.’
“Soooo…” Mirian said, breaking the awkward silence that had settled over them. “No other questions?”
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
“I have a lot of questions. I don’t think you’ll answer them,” Sire Nurea said.
“Try me,” Mirian said.
“You think there’s going to be an attack.”
“Yup.”
“How do you know?”
Mirian explained it, this time in detail. She told them about the hole in the ceiling, the first two times, what had changed, and what had stayed the same. There was plenty of time to tell it all. There weren’t many towns between Torrviol and Cairnmouth, but it had to stop at all of them, so the journey would take at least six hours. When she was done, they’d only made it through the first town on the route.
Nurea just said, “Interesting,” and Nicolus just furrowed his brow and didn’t say anything at all.
Mirian sighed. That seemed to be how things went. “Well, as I said, all I really want is someone to listen to me when I say send the army to Torrviol and evacuate the town. No one will listen to me, but they might listen to you. I’ll give you both some space.”
She got up and moved seats so her back was to them.
Normally, Mirian liked watching the forest go by. Occasionally, she’d see the mycanoid trees with their huge caps that made them look like giant mushrooms, or they’d see a wyvern swooping about beyond the spellward, but the view wasn’t much to look at in the dark. Once in awhile, there was something glowing, or something tried to cross the spellward barrier and there was a flash of light. The smooth grind of the wheels on the track was soothing. In the end, she fell asleep.
Her dreams were strange again. There was a clock, about to strike midnight, but it wouldn’t move. A zephyr falcon streaked through the air down towards its prey, but as its talons unfurled, the distance between it and the target warped so that it was eternally striking, but only grasping at the air. She saw the tangled mossy mane of a bog lion, its muscled form creeping up on a boar, but never getting close enough to pounce. A teacup fell from a table, but never struck the ground. A breath inhaled, but never exhaled. Each time, she looked up to see what she thought might be a statue from the Luminate Temple, only far too large, and instead of stone, the skin slithered about. It was watching her. She woke with a sense of unbearable tension. It’s coming, was all she could think. But what was coming? She didn’t know.
When Nicolus noticed she was awake, he came over to sit across from her. “Hey,” Nicolus said. “Sorry for being… I mean I don’t know what to say, which is weird, because I almost always have something to say, even if it’s just a stupid joke. But I hope… it all turns out alright.”
“Thanks,” she said. “Good luck with your stuff too.”
He nodded, then got up and moved back to where Nurea was. Soon after, the train pulled up to Cairnmouth Station.
Cairnmouth always seemed overwhelming to her. It was crowded with too many people, and the buildings were too pressed up together. The claustrophobia was matched by its beauty, though. There was a unity to the architecture. Most of the houses used the same reinforced mudbrick-and-wood construction so that each house was framed by beautiful timber beams. The mudbrick gray just made the little splashes of color stand out. Here, a flower pot full of pale winterstar. There, a small mural painted to remember the saints. Down the street, a bright spot of a garden and a fountain amidst the worn cobblestones. Care had even been taken with those cobblestones to give checkered patterns of dark and light to the streets, or swirling designs. Two hills rose from the riverside and overlooked the Rift Sea beyond. Towering over the first was a great castle, and over the second, a Luminate Temple, the four corners of it supported by colossal statues of four of the Gods. She could just make them out from the station. Usually, when she stopped in Cairnmouth on her way home or to the Academy again, she spent some time walking in the gardens that surrounded the temple and admired the view of the city and the ocean beyond. From the hill, one could look across the Rift Sea on a clear day and make out the coast of Akana Praediar and see the brightly colored sailing ships that were constantly crossing. Here and there, the newer spell engine powered ships were anchored at port, far larger than the sailing ships. Even these, though, didn’t match the sheer size of the airships that would be coming in a few days. Mirian still wondered how they’d done it.
Today, there was no time to see the sights of the city, to peruse the crowded markets full of every ware one might want, or to sit down at one of the many restaurants that lined the open plazas of the city. Which was a shame; she could smell the roasting meats and savory spices wafting from the nearest square. Since it was lunch, she bought a quick pastry from a nearby cafe for a few coral beadcoins, then joined the line to buy tickets for the next train heading east. The rail line between Cairnmouth and Alkazaria was the longest one in Baracuel, and also the most modern. It crossed the Cairn River, going north of the mountain range that split most of Baracuel, then wound south. It was significantly faster, and several of the trains sped past the smaller towns so that the whole trip only took a little less than two days.
Nicolus and Nurea were heading on the southern route to Palendurio. Hopefully, that would work out for them. Palendurio was upriver from the coast, so it wasn’t as vulnerable to attack from across the Rift Sea as Cairnmouth. She wondered if it had a larger garrison too. Surely, Baracuel would be able to muster a strong defense of its first capital.
Standing in line, Mirian felt briefly unsettled. Something about the crowds felt wrong. They were too subdued, the conversations too hushed. Or maybe she was just tired. She hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep.
Mirian got her ticket and boarded the train. This train was much more crowded, as one might expect from a late morning train on a major route, but she was able to find a seat to herself by a window. She looked out at the platform from that window, idly contemplating the crowds. There was a style of doublet she liked with elegant gold and violet patterns. One woman who looked to be a noble was wearing an old-fashioned corset, which seemed a bit outdated to her.
The doors on the train closed, and a magical chime warned everyone it would be starting soon.
Mirian looked across. There was a young man that looked nice, quite handsome, shoving through the crowd to—wait, was that Nicolus?
Mirian sat upright. Sure enough, there were Nicolus and Nurea. They approached the conductor, and Sire Nurea got right up in his face, practically shouting at him. Some coin changed hands, and he opened one of the doors, and the two got on, breathing hard. Gods above, had they sprinted to get here? What had happened to taking the train south?
She stood up. “Nicolus! There’s a seat over here.”
He started, then gestured for Nurea to come with him. Once again, they found themselves sitting across from each other as the train got underway.
“What’s going on?” she asked. “I thought you were going to Palendurio.”
“Blood and hellfire, not anymore,” Nicolus said, clearly shaken but trying to put a humorous face on it. “You didn’t hear? There’s rioting in the capital. Like, lots of it. Akanans and Baracueli fighting in the streets. Rumor has it that there was a massacre in the Akanan embassy, and that it was our own parliament that ordered it.”
“That’s insane!”
“Yeah, it sounds totally…” he stopped. “Casus belli,” he said. “You wanted to know what would start a war. That’s certainly one way they start. But Baracuel has no motive to… the politics of it don’t make sense. Unless… there’s someone else. Behind the scenes.” He turned to Nurea.
She shook her head. “Someone’s up to something, but I can’t even begin to guess who. The Syndicates don’t even know.”
Mirian didn’t say anything. She was pretty sure Sire Nurea was a lot more flustered than usual, and that she normally wouldn’t let slip that she had contacts with the Syndicates. Ones she could visit fast, too. They’d only been in Cairnmouth for an hour before the train departed.
“Something happened in Akana Praediar too,” Nicolus said. “No one can figure out what, but messages suddenly stopped, and a bunch of ships have changed course. Cairnmouth might have riots soon. Whew. I sure hope Dad knows what he’s doing.”
“He’ll be fine,” Nurea reassured him. “The Palendurio estate has guards. And good wards.”
“Gods, I hope so.”
For a while, they were silent, then they chatted amicably about classes for a bit, which ended in another awkward silence because it was clear that there was no going back to classes anymore.
“I guess I owe you an apology,” Nicolus finally said. “So… what happens next?”
“I don’t know. Each time the Akanas attacked, I died.”
“Ah, right.”
They were silent again. Then, to the west, they saw the bright light of the eruption. They were an hour south of Cairnmouth, about to start tracking eastward when it happened. The eruption had to have been some miles off in the farmlands, but it was impossible to miss. It was like a geyser; a gout of violet and orange light shot up like a waterspout, carrying with it colossal boulders that it flung up like pebbles. Those boulders hung in the air for a moment before crashing down. The shockwave hit the train just after, the earth trembling and the wheels of the train screeching as the track moved beneath it. For a moment, Mirian thought the train might derail, but miraculously, it kept going, though panicked shouting filled the train and she could hear the spell engines up front making a noise that couldn’t be good.
“What in the five hells was that?” Nicolus shouted.
A chill went down Mirian’s spine. That feeling of something bad coming was growing. “I don’t know,” she whispered, but somehow, she knew it was about to get worse.