Heir of Cinders [FADING EMBERS #1] - ON HOLD

10.1 - Old Friends, New Allies

After three days of train ride to the west, Mira had started to detest trains more than the platinum calaians. She despised trains- she hated how it barely gave her any room to move, the constant rumblings and movements in the car, and the hours of sleep that the monstrous hunk of metal had robbed from her. Most of all, she loathed the freezing cold temperature in the train. The cold caused her scales to itch unbearably.

The chill was unfortunately amplified when they passed through the Mountains of Iria. The high altitude and perpetual snow storm worsened the itch on her scales. She continued to try to scratch it off, which resulted in some scrapes on her light scales- not that she give a damn about it. She had faced worse injuries, so a simple scrape was not going to discourage her from trying to get rid of an annoyance.

Mira raised her head, keen to spot any forms of life on the train. Being in a private car, there were only her fellow members of the Masks on it. Much to her disappointment, she realized that the train was pretty much in a lifeless state, except for the occasional snores from a certain one-armed hyrrean and the clattering of the train's wheels against the rails. Letting a sigh escape her dry lips, she rested her head on the train windows, and went back to trying to scratch away the incessant itch on her forearms.

Damned train, damned weather, she cursed in her head. The past few days had been nothing but a bore for her. Ever since they left Lierris, nothing particularly noteworthy happened, save for that one time she slipped in some garlic into Nadrien's water canteen. That was hilarious and extremely well-deserved on the brunette's part. While Nadrien herself found that idea somewhat funny, Feal was not amused about the entire event. Thanks to that little shenanigan, Feal issued an order to prohibit garlic when a travel includes two or more yildean. Mira had found it quite a shame, but there was nothing she could do about it. He called the shots, after all.

Thinking of Feal and Nadrien made her wonder: where the hell were they? If anyone was awake, then it should be them. In spite of that, they were nowhere to be seen. Mira guessed that they were discussing some terms with the conductor. She hoped that it concerned the car's broken heater system because she was already half-frozen.

She stared out to the window, hoping to distract herself from her sleepless nights and shivers by admiring the landscape in the distance. The Mountains of Iria were always known to be so beautiful, even with its harsh weather conditions. Snow-capped peaks dotted the horizon. Although the cloudy skies obscured most of the stars from her view, she could make out the Radiant Lady on the distance, placing itself on the western sky. She never understood why they called it the Radiant Lady as it didn't even resemble a lady, but it was radiant. The brightest of all stars, as Nadrien had put it. Some yildeans even believed that it was actually the star mother Yildeza watching over them.

As if the gods themselves would give a damn on what happened on this continent, Mira thought with some cynicism. The gods don't care, they never bothered to care. They might even be dead.

"I'm glad that you're not asleep yet, or else I would have to drag you across the car."

The voice interrupted Mira's sightseeing. She looked backwards and saw a yildean woman with green eyes staring at her. A bang hung low in front of her forehead, almost obscuring the twinkle that danced in her eyes. That night, Nadrien was dressed in a vest over a long-sleeved, hemmed shirt- the typical yildean attire.

"Ah, Nadrien, my trusty comrade," Mira greeted her with a hint of sarcasm. "What do you want?"

"Feal asked you to meet him in the dining car." Nadrien plopped onto the cold, hard bench, sliding closer to Mira. She eyed the scratches on her hands and furrowed her brows. "You know, there are faster ways to give yourself an infection."