The parquet floors of the coach creaked under my feet. I held my hat with one hand and my suitcase with the other as I sat away from the aisle. The leather-bound seats were in pairs facing each other; in between them was a table hinged to the walls below the window.

The other guests burrowed their heads into the newspapers on the table. I glanced at them—the headlines were still filled with talk of the war’s end. I had heard and read more than enough about the war, so I rested my hand on the windows and looked out.

It was boring.

The busy calls of the hawkers and the waves of people seeing each other off merged into one and formed a strange music that could only be found in a busy railway station. I dared say it was the voice of railway stations.

Hearing this voice was rather odd. It was surprising to see this many hawkers selling their wares and this many people sending their wishes this close to the borders. It was also natural.

Where money walked, people followed—and the military was a walking piggy bank.

Merchants and vendors marched where the soldiers did; blacksmiths and alchemists, mages and mercenaries, thieves and prostitutes, the whole shebang was here. In its way, the war had made a fair share of contributions to the growth of this side of the world.

The hiss of the steam engine marked the end of my musings. The hawkers all quietened down, and the people at the platform waved at the locomotive, and the ones they were sending off.

The coach jerked to a start as its wheels made their rolls. It was slow at first, but before long, the shaking of the train turned into a rhythmic sway, and off we were on the way ahead.

This train headed to the capital—while passing through Glorenstein—was my companion for the next seven hours.

A companion that couldn’t speak.

I sighed and kept my eyes peeled outside. The station’s voice had lulled over, and I was left alone with the breezy wind and the distant fields. It wasn’t anything compared to the trains I had seen back in the modern world, but I could never help but be mesmerized by this sight.

The stretching fields of green and the towering heights that merged with the ocean of blue and white far above were like a painting one could have only seen in museums in the modern world. It was a sight that filled one’s heart with calmness—one that many people would see every day now.

A long era of peace was here…

How boring was that? Not as boring as this train ride, I assure you of that.

Another sigh left me as I looked around. The coach was filled, yet no voice came from the people.

Boring. A journey like this would be the end of me!

I had to do something to get rid of this boredom. I reached into my suitcase and grabbed my deck of playing cards, then turned to the man next to me.

“Good day, sir,” I said.

The man lowered the newspaper and turned to me with a smile.

“Good day.”

I held my hand out.

“Ethan.”

***

Clouds of steam burst out from the pipelines down the train’s body as it came to a screeching halt. Late in the afternoon, at 13:46, the train stopped at Glorenstein.

I passed through the coach with luggage and a hand on my hat. I made my way down the train as calls from behind interrupted me.

“Bye, Ethan! Take care!”

“We’ll meet again, young man!”

“All the best with your new job, Ethan! If you are ever in the capital, give me a visit!”

Out of the train but still on the platform, I raised my hat lightly and met all their goodbyes with a smile. People in the coach pinned themselves to one side and waved me off.

The engine kicked into gear, and the train crawled ahead on the tracks. As one coach passed me by, the people in the coach behind turned my way.

“It was fun meeting you, Ethan!”

“Goodbye, Ethan!”

I waved and smiled at them too, and could only leave when the train was out of sight.

A hand tapped my shoulder. I looked back and found a stout man with a long, thready mustache. The man gestured at me to walk with him out of the station.

He was the man seated next to me on the train. It was a coincidence that both of us were bound for Glorenstein.

The two of us tapped our boots out of the station, much emptier than any other at which we had stopped, The man spoke.

“You’re quite the charmer, Ethan. How do you do it?”

“It’s rather easy,” I said. ”Conversation…is like chess.”

My companion smiled and looked my way. Stone paths stretched ahead, walled on both sides by houses and buildings.

“Is that so?” The man smirked and then pointed toward the main street. “Oh, come this way, they line up carriages here.”

A few paces away from the station stood lines of carriages, blocked from the rest of the road by black stanchions and a blue ribbon.

“It is,” We continued our conversation. “You move around until your enemy drops their guard. Makes a mistake.”

I turned to my companion, my finger pointing at my chest.

“And shows you the path to their king.”

My companion and I stopped in our tracks, just a few steps short of the carriages waiting for us.

He stared into my eyes.

“Hah…” He chuckled. “Hahaha…”

I laughed with him. The man laughed without end as he slapped my back.

“Funny lad! Funny young lad!” Laughing, the two of us made our way to the carriages. A bunch of them loosened their reins and gazed at us—my companion flagged one of the coachmen over.

“My friend here is a new professor at the Empire’s greatest, Glorenstein Academy.” He got right to the praise. The mention of the academy made the coachman smile. He was expecting a fat tip.

“Give him the best view of town, show him the good spots, and then take him to the academy.”

The coachman nodded at our words and rushed to move his carriage out of the lineup.

I turned to my companion.

“You ever need a drink…you know where to go.”

“Sure do.”

This time, he held his hand out, and I grabbed it.

“Ethan.”

“Mundus.”

I lifted my hat and nodded at Mundus before climbing up the carriage. Mundus stayed behind for a few seconds. He watched as the carriage left the roads, and only then did he go his own way.

The carriage took the longer route around town to show me the sights. We went through the outskirts to the posh streets before we finally took the turns that led to the academy.

The sights of the beautiful architecture around me made my head spin again. The long silence was boring. It would be the end of me.

So I started talking with the coachman, too.

“I am surprised, sir,” he said after a while. “You are diligently joining the academy a month before it begins.”

“Sorry, what?”

The coachman turned my way and smiled.

“The Glorenstein Academy? The semester doesn’t start until next month. Most teachers are on vacation at this time.”

This fucker.

I scrambled my luggage open to look at the invitation again. It had asked me to join right away, but now, instead of the old letter, there was a different letter—still sealed—and a small parchment tied to it.

[Sorry, kid. I thought you’d change your mind if I left you alone for a month. Happy teaching.
Your favorite,
Grand Commander]