Before they know it, they're already in the air. The station becomes a small flicker of light as the evening breeze sweeps away the train into the night.

"How do you think this hunk of steel is powered, Mel?"

"I'd assume Invokers of Vulcan are behind it."

"Well... probably, their whole schtick is engineering. But I'm talking power."

Absinthe gestures his head over to a lamp under the side window. Light emits from a translucent glass bulb. "Use your magic on the lamp."

Melchior's eyes glow and his irises break apart into an infinite number of pieces. In the next moment, the light from the lamp fades away.

"Magic powered, huh? Do you think there are runes somewhere in that bulb?" Melchior asks as his eyes return to normal and the lamp activates again.

"I guess," Absinthe replies as he looks under the stand of the bulb, trying to find any sort of mechanism. "Whatever's powering the bulb is powering this flying train too… a lot has changed since the Shattering. Pops would probably have a stroke if he saw this."

He gazes out his window, watching the lights of houses vanish as the outside goes completely dark.

For a second, Absinthe was startled as the train broke through the clouds, appearing above an ocean of dark snow. Far above, the crescent moon reflects down upon them, and Absinthe wonders if Nocturna is watching.

Although, if an Orthodox Goddess was watching, Absinthe and Melchior would probably be in for an evening of misfortune.

He sips on his champagne happily as he continues to stare into the endless field of clouds.

The wine is very different from the ones back home. It feels more… refined, as if the notes of green apple, citrus, and brioche come together in nothing short of perfect harmony.

Then Absinthe notices a label on the wine glass. "Ninkasi Wineries," he mumbles.

Absinthe recalls in his studies that she's the Goddess of Alcohol and Revelry.

It's no surprise why the alcohol is so good, it's blessed by a Goddess. Absinthe then shivers as he wonders how much the bill is going to cost his father- he says a prayer and a sorry in advance.

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He then fiddles with a ring on his thumb finger, bearing the insignia of Veiler, an eye within a swirling vortex.

As Absinthe's gaze lingered on the ring, the gentle rocking motion of the train seemed to lull him into a moment of introspection. The intricate design of the insignia appeared to shimmer in the soft light of the lamp, as if the symbol itself was awakening a deep-seated connection within him.

Melchior, sensing his brother's distraction, leaned in, his voice a low whisper. "You thinking about Father, again?"

Absinthe's eyes snapped back into focus, his expression a mask of nonchalance. "Nah, just wondering how much this fancy ride is going to set him back."

He forced a chuckle, the sound strained, but Melchior didn't press the issue. The AetherRail's gentle sway seemed to synchronize with the rhythmic thrumming of the engine, a soothing melody that belied the turbulent thoughts churning within Absinthe.

As the train glided through the skies, the landscape unfolding like a canvas of rolling hills and towering spires, Absinthe's gaze drifted back to the ring, its symbol now seemingly etched on the surface of his mind.

The weight of his family's legacy, the burden of their tainted reputation, and the expectations that came with being a Salinger all converged in his thoughts, like storm clouds gathering on the horizon.

The act of leaving his home finally dawns on him, and he begins to feel an overwhelming burden. He recalls Sister Sappho's words about how a "great legacy lies on his shoulders".

She said to make it a source of strength rather than something that confines him… but how are burdens anything but constricting?

Legacy is an expectation and destiny passed onto someone before they're born.

And above all, the path that Absinthe was handed is dangerous, treacherous, and lonesome.

He's glad that he has his brother to accompany him, but in the end, there's only one Heir to Veiler. Absinthe gazes out the window now, not welcoming the future, but instead missing the past.

As the AetherRail soared through the skies, the wispy clouds outside seemed to mirror the turbulent thoughts swirling within Absinthe's mind.

His gaze lingered on the landscape unfolding before him, yet his focus remained inward, his thoughts a jumble of emotions and doubts.

The gentle rocking motion of the train, usually a soothing comfort, now felt like a relentless drumbeat, echoing the weight of his family's legacy.

As the hours passed, the AetherRail's rhythmic hum and the soft chatter of the other passengers receded into the background, leaving Absinthe alone with his thoughts.

Melchior, sensing his brother's growing unease, leaned in once more, his voice a gentle prompt.

"Absinthe, maybe we should get some rest. We've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

Absinthe's eyes, like two dark pools, hesitated, as if unwilling to abandon the turbulent thoughts churning within him. The mention of rest, however, seemed to rouse him from his introspection, and he turned to Melchior, his gaze lingering on the younger brother's concerned expression.

"Yeah… let's," Absinthe answers as he attempts to smile gently.

To calm himself down and lull gently into sleep, Absinthe slowly counts the shadows in the carriage.