With a ‘KLK’ of the fingers he beckoned fire, flickering and obedient. He pulled it in close like a confidant, and together they breathed life into the cigarette between his lips. The smoke began to curl, and satisfied, he shook away the flare just as easily as it was summoned.

He was about to take a pull, when his radio-watch buzzed. “Gus,” a teasing voice emanated from the smooth display. “I thought you quit smoking?”

Augustine tucked the cigarette between his fingers, and brought the timepiece to bear. “Did I?”

“Uh huh, I can smell your weak-ass pyromancy from all the way up here. Anyway, look alive – train’s coming.” The voice fizzled out, and the watch was docile once more. Union crafts were as much mechanical engineering as they were domesticated magic.

Similarly the metropolitan stations not only ran mundane commutes, but also connected lines that extended beyond mere earthly bounds. In the expanse between worlds, coal and steam had little value. Instead, the cyclical engines fed on raw magic to propel their cars through the spaces where the planes overshadowed one another.

Thus the train arrived accompanied by the screech of breaks and a surge of energy as reality bent around it. The released pressure washed over the station in a gust, tousling the black curls that framed Augustine’s face – and extinguishing his cigarette.

He sighed, flicking it away in defeat.