sanctuary | on hold indefinitely

four | et invenies mea fiet

The train purred beneath Devan's feet as she stumbled over duffel bags and leather shoes that were scattered down the narrow aisle. It was busier than she had hoped, the seats filled with workers clad in dull grey suits with black briefcases on their lap. Their laptop and phone screens cast their faces in a harsh, white light—not harsher, though, than the glare that they cast Devan as she accidentally trod on their toes. She ignored them, keeping her head down until she found a seat in the corner of the train. It was opposite the small bathroom, so naturally the smell of disinfectant working tirelessly to cover up other questionable stenches overwhelmed her, and she tugged her scarf up over her nose, sitting back and watching people file off another train across the platform like ants. She could not imagine that life for herself. The sight of humans, clueless and driven by money and office work, was enough to set her teeth on edge.

She was glad when the train set off with a heavy sigh, the platforms and the people on it breezing past her until they were swapped for red-brick houses and then, a moment later, large expanses of green. She had never been on a train before. It was everything she had expected it to be, with low, irritating hums of indistinguishable music floating from the earphones of the people sitting in front of her and the grotty and scratched windows dulling the view. There was a child screaming somewhere in the next carriage, and an uncomfortable heat coming from the vents at her feet caused her pants to stick to her legs.

A hoarse voice, tinny over the speakers, cancelled everything else out as it announced the train's stops and destination. Only one of the places he named in a thick Welsh accent was familiar. Llandudno. She had only seen it written down before in scrawled, unfamiliar calligraphy, and its pronunciation sounded nothing like she had thought. The "l's" were breathy and sounded more like "h's" and the syllables merged into one another. 

Subconsciously, she pulled out a piece of paper that was tattered and yellow from years of it being folded up in an old drawer. The ink had smudged under the pads of her mother's thumb long ago, but she could still make out the address.

Musa Ali

Marine Drive,

Llandudno,

Wales

"Excuse me, ma'am." The same thick, overly cheery voice that had been on the speakers a moment ago now broke her out of her thoughts. In front of her, its owner stood with some sort of grey box over his shoulder, wearing a smile that was half-hidden by a scraggly beard. "Ticket, please?"

"What?" Devan asked, folding the letter and putting it back in her pocket.

"May I see your ticket, please?" he asked, a hint of impatience flashing in his eyes.

"Oh." She shuffled in in her pockets again, first the ones in her jacket and then the ones in her jeans, but found nothing but a few coins of little value. She had known she would not find it already, though. Finding the ticket would require having purchased it in the first place, something she had not done. She had sneaked her way through the barriers with a little Propatulus incantation. After feigning confusion for another moment, she looked up at the conductor, her eyes softening though he was unlikely to be affected by her charm when she was wearing her sunglasses. "I must have dropped it when I was getting on the train."

The conductor sighed. "Ma'am, you must have a ticket for this train. Perhaps if you show me a receipt as proof of purchase—"

"Oh, I have a receipt," she lied again, this time unzipping her backpack and fumbling around for another few moments. She let out a heavy sigh. "I seem to have lost that, too. Is there anyway you can replace the ticket without one?"