The ceiling was rather uninteresting.
Owen had been staring at it for the better part of ten minutes, his scarlet eyes following the wooden beams that stretched across the station's roof. Every so often, a shadow passed over them as workers moved about the platform, preparing for the next departure.
The station was busy.
Merchants argued over the prices of their goods. Porters hurried between platforms with heavy crates balanced against their backs. Somewhere in the distance, a child was crying, much to the irritation of his exhausted mother.
Life continued.
It was almost insulting how easily it did.
A few days ago, Stonehaven had been a town like any other. It had possessed its own markets, its own taverns, its own little corners where people gathered to complain about trivial things. Now, most of it lay in ruins, its streets scarred by the battle that had taken place beneath its foundations.
And here he was, sitting on a waiting bench in a neighbouring town, staring at a ceiling.
"Owen."
No response.
"Owen."
Still nothing.
"Owen Landergrey."
"WHAT?"
Several people nearby turned their heads.
Lucius Styrar stared at him with an expression that suggested he was reconsidering every decision that had led him to this particular moment.
"Have you decided where we're going to begin, or are you planning to spend the rest of the day studying that ceiling?"
Owen blinked.
For a moment, he looked genuinely confused. His gaze wandered across the station before finally settling on the man seated beside him.
Then he remembered.
The investigation.
The outposts.
The names Lucius had given him before they'd parted ways with Glauderia and the others.
Right.
They were supposed to be doing something.
"...Haika Barony," Owen muttered.
Lucius raised an eyebrow. "What was that?"
"Haika Barony."
"That's a place, Owen. Not an explanation."
Owen remained silent.
He had no particular reason for choosing it beyond what he'd already been told. Of all the suspected locations Lucius had brought to his attention, Haika Barony had been among the potential outposts of Garten der Schatten. Nothing had been confirmed, and the information was hardly enough to justify storming into the territory with their blades drawn.
But it was somewhere to start.
And Owen had grown rather tired of sitting still.
He turned towards Lucius.
For several seconds, the two stared at one another.
Lucius seemed to be waiting for Owen to elaborate. Owen, meanwhile, appeared perfectly content to let the silence do the talking.
Eventually, Lucius sighed.
"Fine. Haika Barony it is."
Owen nodded.
"Good."
"Good?" Lucius repeated. "You make a decision with all the enthusiasm of a man being sentenced to death, and that's all you have to say?"
"Would you prefer a speech?"
"I'd prefer a companion who could string together more than three words without looking as though he'd rather be buried alive."
"Then find someone else."
"Believe me, I've considered it."
Owen stood up.
"Train's probably here."
Lucius glanced towards the platform.
The distant whistle of an approaching locomotive answered for him.
He rose with a sigh, collected his belongings, and followed Owen towards the platform.
"One of these days," Lucius muttered, "I'm going to discover why I bother with you."
Owen didn't bother answering.
The train rolled into the station beneath a plume of white steam, its metal wheels shrieking against the rails. Passengers began gathering along the platform, some already pushing towards the carriages before the locomotive had come to a complete stop.
Owen watched the doors open.
Then he stepped aboard.
Lucius followed.
And with Haika Barony decided upon, the two departed for their next destination.
Neither of them knew what awaited them there.
Or perhaps, after everything that had happened in Stonehaven, neither particularly cared.
-
The countryside passed in a blur of green.
Beyond the window, rolling fields stretched towards distant hills, broken occasionally by clusters of houses and the occasional village. Farmers worked beneath the afternoon sun, their figures growing smaller as the train carried its passengers farther from the station.
Inside the carriage, the atmosphere was considerably quieter.
A few passengers conversed in low voices. An elderly man sat near the opposite window, reading a newspaper. Somewhere farther down the carriage, a pair of merchants were arguing over a shipment that had apparently arrived several days late.
Owen heard none of it.
He sat beside the window, one arm resting against the frame, his scarlet eyes fixed on the passing scenery.
His reflection stared back at him from the glass.
He barely recognised it.
There was something different about his eyes now. He couldn't quite explain it, but whenever he caught sight of his reflection, he found himself looking a little longer than he intended.
Perhaps it was the colour.
Perhaps it was the way they seemed to hold something that hadn't been there before.
Or perhaps he was simply imagining things.
He turned away from the glass.
"Lucius."
"Hm?"
"Why did you come with me?"
The question came so abruptly that Lucius initially thought he'd misheard.
He lowered the book he'd been pretending to read and glanced at Owen.
"What?"
"You heard me."
"Unfortunately, yes. I was hoping it was some sort of auditory hallucination."
Owen looked at him.
Lucius closed the book.
"Why did I come with you?" he repeated, as though saying the words aloud might help him discover an answer. "That's an interesting question."
"Is it?"
"Very. Especially considering you made it quite clear that you didn't want any company."
"I still don't."
"And yet, here we are."
Owen turned back towards the window.
"Exactly."
Lucius studied him for a moment.
He could have given Owen any number of answers. He could have said that Garten der Schatten remained a threat, that their investigation was far from over, or that travelling alone through unfamiliar territories was a poor decision for someone who had a remarkable talent for getting himself injured.
All of those things were true.
None of them answered the question.
Why had he followed Owen?
He had asked himself the same thing more than once since leaving Stonehaven.
At first, he'd assumed it was simple curiosity. Owen was an unusual individual, and Lucius had always possessed a certain weakness for mysteries that refused to explain themselves.
But curiosity alone didn't explain why he'd remained beside a man who had repeatedly tried to push him away.
Nor did duty.
He wasn't Owen's commander anymore. Whatever obligation he had once felt towards the investigation had become something else entirely.
Something he hadn't bothered naming.
Lucius leaned back against his seat.
"I suppose I don't have a particularly good reason."
Owen turned his head slightly.
"You're an idiot."
"Yes, I've heard that one before."
"Then why bother answering?"
"Because, unlike you, I possess the extraordinary ability to engage in a conversation without immediately regretting it."
"Congratulations."
"Thank you. It took years of dedicated practice."
Owen looked away again.
For a while, neither spoke.
Then Lucius's gaze drifted towards Owen's reflection in the window.
And he noticed something.
Those eyes.
Scarlet.
He remembered seeing them for the first time in Stonehaven. Back then, there had been something peculiar about Owen's gaze, something Lucius couldn't quite put into words.
It had bothered him.
Not because it was threatening, exactly, but because it had felt... unusual.
As though he were looking at someone who had slipped through the cracks of something that governed everyone else.
A thought surfaced in his mind.
The mark of the Fateless.
Lucius's expression gradually changed.
He remembered a story his father had once told him when he was younger. A tale concerning people who possessed eyes unlike those of ordinary men and women.
The bearers of those eyes were said to be special.
Not because they were necessarily stronger, wiser, or more talented than everyone else.
But because something about them existed beyond ordinary explanation.
They were people whose very existence seemed to resist the natural order of things.
His father had never explained whether the tale was true. Whenever Lucius had pressed him for details, the old man had simply smiled and told him that some mysteries were better left alone.
At the time, Lucius had dismissed it as another one of his father's stories.
Now, looking at Owen's reflection, he wasn't so certain.
"Your eyes," Lucius said.
Owen glanced at him.
"What about them?"
"They're special."
There was a pause.
Owen stared at him.
Then he scoffed and turned back towards the window.
"You're a dumbass."
Lucius blinked.
"...Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
For a moment, Lucius simply watched him.
Then he burst out laughing.
It wasn't a particularly dignified laugh, either. He leaned forward, one hand covering his mouth as his shoulders shook.
Owen's brow twitched.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing, nothing." Lucius wiped at the corner of his eye. "I just realised something."
"What?"
"You were blushing."
Owen slowly turned his head.
The look he gave Lucius could have frozen a lesser man where he sat.
"Fuck off."
Lucius laughed even harder.
"Ah, there it is! I was beginning to worry you'd lost the ability to express yourself."
"Keep talking. See what happens."
"Are you threatening me? On a public train? How scandalous."
"Lucius."
"Owen."
"Shut up."
Lucius grinned.
"As you wish."
For once, he actually obeyed.
The carriage settled into a comfortable silence, interrupted only by the rhythmic clattering of the wheels against the tracks.
Owen returned his attention to the window.
Lucius reopened his book.
And for a little while, the world seemed almost ordinary.
-
It didn't take long for exhaustion to catch up with Lucius.
The battle in Stonehaven had taken its toll, and despite his attempts to pretend otherwise, his body was still recovering. His eyelids grew heavy as the train rocked gently from side to side.
He tried to keep reading.
He really did.
But after rereading the same paragraph three times without absorbing a single word, he finally gave up.
Closing the book, Lucius folded his arms and leaned his head against the back of the seat.
"Wake me when we arrive," he muttered.
Owen didn't look at him.
"Sure."
"And don't steal my belongings."
"Wasn't planning on it."
"Or abandon me at some station."
"Can't promise that one."
Lucius smiled faintly.
"You're a terrible person."
"So I've been told."
A few moments later, Lucius fell asleep.
His breathing gradually evened out, and the tension that had lingered around his face since Stonehaven finally began to disappear.
Owen glanced at him once.
Then he returned his gaze to the window.
He was tired, too.
More tired than he cared to admit.
His muscles ached, and there was a dull heaviness behind his eyes that suggested he ought to close them for a while.
Yet sleep refused to come.
Something was wrong.
No.
Not wrong.
Different.
Owen shifted in his seat.
A strange sensation travelled through his body, beginning somewhere deep within his chest before spreading through his limbs. It wasn't painful, exactly. If anything, it felt like the faint tingling that followed when a numb hand finally regained its feeling.
Except this sensation was coming from his core.
He placed a hand against his chest.
For a moment, he remained perfectly still.
Then he closed his eyes and reached inward, attempting to understand what he was feeling.
There was something there.
Something stirring beneath the surface.
His mana core felt different from before, though he couldn't quite determine how. The flow was unfamiliar, and the sensation that accompanied it was difficult to describe.
It was as though something dormant had begun to turn in its sleep.
Owen frowned.
He had barely begun to understand the changes his body had undergone. Every time he thought he'd grasped something, another unfamiliar sensation appeared to remind him how little he actually knew.
It was irritating.
He hated not understanding things.
Especially when they concerned his own body.
He exhaled through his nose and rested his head against the window.
Whatever it was, he would figure it out eventually.
There was no point exhausting himself over something he couldn't yet explain.
The train continued along the tracks, carrying them towards Haika Barony.
Owen let his eyes close.
For a brief moment, his thoughts drifted back to a tall man with long hair and blue eyes, a man whose voice seemed to linger somewhere at the edge of his memories.
A man who had called him a brat.
Owen's lips curled faintly.
"Dumbass uncle."
The words disappeared beneath the steady rumble of the train.