13 February 1875 of the 6th Era, The Iron Giant
Antony placed his suitcase into the storage compartment and sat down, watching the last of the snowclad rooftops dash past him as the train left the city and finally reached its optimal speed. He had to admit that the train swayed way less than the ones he was used to riding by now, and the berth was even more comfortable than the First Class in Stolberg Express. That was an achievement in and of itself, but it was also long enough for Antony to fit without issue. The amount of space in the room, too, was twice that usually available to passengers.
No wonder the tracks had to be modified for this beast.
There was a lot to be admired here. On its maiden voyage, The Iron Giant had six First Class carriages, three Premium Class carriages, a restaurant carriage, and a separate lounge. The latter, according to the small booklet placed on the writing desk attached to the opposite wall, was divided into two areas – one intended for private meetings, and the other fitted with a stage for all kinds of performances. According to the program, for today, there was a lecture on Engineering around noon followed by a poetry salon at 4:00 P.M., and then a performance of excerpts from The Lord of the Storms around dinner time. The next day featured more lectures, this time on History and interior design, a politics discussion, and more singing and music. The only thing missing from the list of entertainment was dancing, but that was due to limited space.
Tomorrow evening we should arrive in Stolberg. Hopefully nothing happens until then. Antony’s gaze continued to mindlessly travel across the interior, appreciating the lacquered redwood, the gilded ornaments adorning the door and the ceiling, the wine glass and the tea cup and saucer neatly arranged on the writing desk. There were even several Sending Scrolls tucked under a paperweight for passengers deaf to the Source or unwilling to waste their mana on mundane spells.
Do wonder what Second and Third Class will look like, and how much all of this will cost once it’s fully operational. Also, why did they decide to schedule the first voyage for winter? Autumn would have been much more fitting, and from what I heard, they were making that deadline. Either this is to test all of the recent innovations, or something did happen during construction, and they stayed quiet about it. I should have listened to Andrew’s ramblings a bit more attentively. He recalled his latest trip to Stolberg, where they were stranded in the middle of a field for three hours because there was too much snow on the tracks. According to the same booklet, The Iron Giant was well equipped for such mishaps, promising a smooth journey from Lindau to Stolberg in nine days. Unless, of course, some sheep wander onto the tracks.
There was a quiet knock on the door.
“Come in.”
“Enjoying the ride? Thought I’d check on you, with how quickly you retired to your room,” Charlotte walked inside and firmly turned the lock behind her. Immediately, the sounds from the wheels churning grew distant, and the colours outside somewhat dimmed.
“Just a precaution,” he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her. “Very much so. Would have enjoyed it even more if it weren’t for that warning and if I had managed to board it in Lindau. Thankfully everything seems to be going fine so far. And you?”
“Definitely better than by steamboat, though I’d still rather use teleports.”
“If Greg were to hear you,” he guided her to the berth and watched her throw off her shoes before climbing on it. Charlotte placed her head on his chest, enjoying the warmth of his body, almost purring as his fingers glided through her hair and across her shoulders.
“I meant to ask, where is he? Not like you to leave him behind.”
“Familiars aren’t allowed on the train, unfortunately,” Antony sighed. “Perhaps for the better. He doesn’t like to stay in confined spaces for long, and you know what he can get up to when sufficiently bored,” he pulled her closer, kissing her forehead. “This blue really suits you.”
“Thank you,” she mindlessly adjusted the sleeve of her sky-blue dress, for once not overloaded with petticoats as the cut followed current fashion trends. Definitely a most sensible choice given that the corridors in the carriages were quite narrow. “Seeing that I’m here in an unofficial capacity, I decided a bit of colour won’t hurt. Hopefully it stays this way.”
“Even so, there’s plenty of people to deal with anything that is not related to Undeath. Especially now that Dorian and Mr Placek have also boarded the train. But you probably don’t remember him. He used to be the chief of the State Investigation Unit in Ledavia.”
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He watched her frown slightly, then brighten up, “The one responsible for Mr Brook’s case all those years ago?”
“Yes.”
“I thought he wanted to retire.”
“And he did,” Antony grinned. “About seventy years ago, when he said that enough was enough. Unfortunately, he was a bit too efficient during his service, and is still called in from time to time. Usually when the matter is delicate, or when there are exceptionally high stakes involved.
“How is Mr Brook nowadays? If you still keep in touch with him, of course.”
“I do meet Laureen over a cup of coffee from time to time. Happy as he could be. Both are employed with Lundhaven’s Alchemy Research Union as senior alchemists. Oh, their son, James, is the architect working on the new building of Quillivia’s Central Train Station. While he did say he’d be accounting for the weather, from what I garnered, he’s about to bring a bit of Lindau to the heart of Enua,” Charlotte couldn’t hold back a yawn.
“Didn’t get enough rest?” He leaned down for another kiss.
“Not with everyone in the know being so on edge. It’s only getting worse considering that we’re almost at our destination, yet nothing’s happened. At this point, someone might get hurt just because everyone is so jumpy,” she picked a strand of hair and wrapped it around her finger. “Uhm… That friend of yours. Mr Holmes, wasn’t it? Was it just my imagination, or–”
“He has an interesting gift that seems to run in the family,” Antony nodded. “Not exactly True Sight. More a talent to pick up mana fluctuations and certain influences. But he can be trusted, I promise. And you definitely can trust Alex, but you know that already.”
“Yes. I also see that his health has improved.”
“Spending the summer on the Western Coast of Lundhaven did a lot of good for his lungs, and thankfully he received proper treatment,” he looked in the direction of the compartment Professor O’Neill was staying in. “Unfortunately, the air quality in Quillivia still leaves a lot to be desired, so he might relapse, but… It’s manageable.”
“Is he aware of what is going on?”
“Yes. It would’ve been dumb to leave him out as we’d have to explain everything anyway. He’s also helped Dorian on a number of occasions, so in a way, he’s a fellow detective,” he shifted a bit as Charlotte nodded and curled up in his arms, closing her eyes. “Although… He’s still not aware of the fact that I am part of the Service, and I’d rather it stays that way.”
“But he’s fine with you playing Mr Dahl?”
“I had time to explain things to him back at the station. Besides, he knows what I am. He’s quite used to this.”
“Ah. That definitely makes things a fair bit easier. Wish you told me that last year.”
“I’m sorry. I was too worried to think straight.”
“I remember,” she raised her head, looking at him. “You don’t look rested, either. Is everything alright?”
Antony hesitated, considering his next words. On the one hand, he did not want to needlessly alarm her. On the other, lying right now could have terrible consequences.
“I saw one of His Nightmares yesterday. Don’t worry, it didn’t notice me,” he hurried to add, seeing her almost panicked face. “It was surprisingly disinterested in everything around it. I’d say it was slumbering, even.”
“But it was outside the World between Worlds?”
“Yes. I’m not really sure what to think of it for now.”
“I wish I could give you an answer,” she relaxed again, looking outside the window. A smile briefly crossed her face as they both saw a bright splash of red fur on the hill. The fox attentively observed the train, not knowing what to think of this new beast, but seemed quite unbothered by it. “Please, be careful.”
“You don’t need to tell me that twice,” Antony, too, steadied his breath, almost falling into a meditative state alongside her.
He tried to savour every moment, putting to memory the chill from her body, the softness of the fabric her dress was made of, the quiet breathing. It was not often that they could spend much time together. A weekend, or even just a single day before Antony had to go back to Ledavia. And he had to go back not just because Andrew required something of him. But because of his responsibilities as the Scribe, of which even Charlotte knew nothing. Not that he did not want to talk to her about it, more so that he was bound by an oath of secrecy, which could only be lifted for two reasons – if she became a Seer, at which point She would know, or if the Lady of Magic decided so. Even for this trip, certain arrangements had to be made.
However, whenever he did have the time to be with her, it often turned out that she was working on some case or other. At some point, unable to stay away, Antony came up with the persona of Mr Simon Dahl, a private detective from a coastal town in Lundhaven. It was partially due to curiosity, of course. But mostly because he grew tired of having to wait for her to return late in the evening only to immediately go to bed or spend the night going through pieces of evidence, her own notes, or some dusty old tomes. The disguise proved to be quite easy to uphold, too: a private detective could be quite the eccentric fellow, only accepting commissions that truly piqued his interest, or not be present in the office at all due to working on a case.
There was another knock on the door.
“Yes?”
“This is Mr Holmes. I and Professor O’Neill decided to have tea at the restaurant. Would you like to join us?”
“Gladly. Go on ahead,” Antony tried to stand up, but Charlotte caught him by the sleeve and wiped his lips with a handkerchief, grinning as she did so. Then, still smiling, applied a Mending spell to his shirt to get rid of a small reddish stain on the collar.

