"Your fingers… they're hurt?" he asked curiously.
The girl blinked at him, then chuckled with an easy grin. "Oh, you're attentive. Don't worry, it's not an injury. Just a style, something you wouldn't understand." She lifted her hands as if showing them off, long and delicate, unmarred by any sign of pain.
The old woman laughed at her playful tone. "What kind of girl would willingly carry scars? Who would marry you with hands like those?"
The girl pouted dramatically, then snickered. "You're right, Grandma. Guess I'll have to stay flawless."
Her carefree cheer made the elderly woman smile warmly, but Ean shifted uncomfortably. He wasn't used to lighthearted banter, especially when sitting between strangers. He turned back to the documents on his lap, pretending to bury himself in work.
"You're quite the busy one, aren't you?" the girl teased again, leaning a little toward him to peek at the papers.
Ean forced a polite smile. "Yes, I've got a few things to handle. Sorry if I seem… distracted." He lowered his gaze again, grateful when neither the girl nor the old woman pressed him further.
The train rocked gently as it cut across the snowy countryside. A full day's journey lay ahead, enough time for Ean to review every detail of the task he had been assigned. The warmth of the compartment and the repetitive rhythm of wheels against rails lulled him into a daze.
At some point, his eyelids grew heavy. His head drooped forward. And then—
"Haah…" Ean jolted awake, his breath catching in surprise. He blinked rapidly, realizing he had dozed off. The old woman across from him smiled kindly, as though she had been watching over him.
"You've been asleep for about an hour," she said gently.
"An hour?" He rubbed his eyes, embarrassed. Reaching into his coat pocket, he meant to check his watch. Instead, his fingers brushed against a slip of paper. When he pulled it out, his heart skipped a beat, it was his train ticket.
"Wait… I never gave this to the conductor?" he muttered. But as his gaze slid over the seat number printed on it, something clicked in his memory.
Like a reel of film winding backward, the scene replayed in his mind: the moment earlier when the girl - Marionete, that was what she had called herself, had collided into him. The way his satchel had slipped, the way his eyes had followed it to the floor… and her quick fingers brushing against his hand.
His stomach dropped. The number on this ticket was not the same as the one he had held earlier.
"Sorry…" The memory of her sly smile whispered in his ears. He remembered it clearly now, the glint in her eye, the ticket swap masked by a feigned accident.
Ean's head whipped to the side. The seat beside him was empty.
"Where is the girl who was sitting here?" he asked the old woman urgently, stuffing the ticket back into his pocket.
"Oh, she said she was going to the restroom." The woman pointed toward the narrow door further down the car.
Without another word, Ean stood. His heart hammered against his ribs as he walked past rows of passengers. Their curious gazes followed him, but he ignored them, his focus fixed on the restroom door.
"Who is she? Why steal my ticket? What game is she playing?"
He reached the door and raised his hand to knock.
Tok. Tok. Tok.
No answer.
A sense of unease pressed down on him, heavy as fog. He knocked again, harder.
Tok. Tok. Tok.
"Marionete, are you in there?" Ean voice was tight, urgent.
The lock clicked. Slowly, the door creaked open.
The girl's face appeared in the narrow gap, her eyes glinting with sharp amusement, her lips curling in a smile that never quite reached her gaze. "You could've used another restroom, you know. Or… were you looking for me?"
Before he could answer, his eyes dropped. She was holding a doll, an ordinary child's toy cradled in her arms like a secret.
Ean froze. "That doll… when did you start carrying it? You didn't have it earlier."
Her smile deepened as she stroked the doll's hair almost tenderly. "Who knows? Perhaps someone gave it to me. Or perhaps it gave itself to me." Her voice dropped to a whisper, laced with mystery. Then, without another word, she stepped out and brushed past him, leaving only the faint scent of lavender in her wake.
Ean hesitated. Something about her tone, her eyes, her entire presence gnawed at him. He turned back to the restroom door and pushed it open.
His breath caught in his throat.
Inside, the small space was painted in red. A child lay crumpled on the floor, a knife buried in its chest. Blood pooled like spilled ink, seeping across the tiles.
Ean staggered back, his hand clamping over his mouth as bile rose in his throat.
When he spun around, Marionete was already standing behind him.
Her smile widened.
Shhk!
Pain exploded through his chest. His eyes dropped to see the glint of a blade buried deep into him, her delicate fingers wrapped around its handle.
The world tilted. His vision blurred. And then—
"Aahh—hah… hah…"
Ean jerked awake again, his body drenched in cold sweat. His chest heaved, but there was no wound, no blood. A soft glow hovered above him, fading as his senses cleared.
"You're awake."
He turned his head. A woman with silvery blonde hair and calm eyes was beside him, her hand still faintly radiating with light. As soon as she confirmed he was conscious, the glow vanished.
"What… what happened?" he rasped, trying to steady his breath. He pinched his arm discreetly, half-afraid he was still trapped in some twisted dream.
"The train was hijacked," Eira Solenne said, explaining the situation.
Ean's eyes widened. "Hijacked? How?"
He scanned the car. Every passenger slumped in their seats, fast asleep. None stirred, not even with the commotion. Outside, the train thundered forward at frightening speed.
"Did you do this?" Ean asked, assuming Eira had put the passengers to sleep.
Eira shook her head firmly. "My sigil is of light. And Kael Draven, commands shadows. Neither of us has the power to put an entire train to sleep."
Ean's thoughts raced. His gaze flicked around anxiously, until it landed on the empty seat beside him.
"The girl, Marionete. Did you see her? She was sitting right here!"
Eira frowned. "You were sitting alone when I arrived. Are you sure you weren't dreaming?"
Before Ean could argue, a tall man clad in dark attire approached. His sharp eyes swept the cabin with a predator's focus.
"Is he awake?" the man - Kael Draven, asked curtly.
Eira nodded.
"I inspected the train. The brakes are destroyed, the communication lines cut. Worse still, the bridge ahead has been sabotaged. If nothing is done, we'll plunge into the ravine." His tone was grim, final.
Ean's throat went dry. "Then what do we do?"
"Secure the passengers," Kael ordered. "Make sure they're strapped into their seats. I'll stop the train myself."
Eira's eyes widened in alarm. "You can't! A train this size? The strain will kill you!"
Kael gave her a hard look. "There is no other choice."
Reluctantly, Eira obeyed, urging Ean to follow. They hurried through car after car, fastening belts on the slumbering passengers, moving those who had collapsed onto the floor back into safe positions.
The task was exhausting. The train seemed endless, each car filled with dozens of unconscious travelers. Ean's heart pounded faster with each step, fear mingling with adrenaline. "Can we really save them all?"
Then, suddenly—
Klap. Klap. Pyass!
The lights flickered, then died, plunging the train into darkness.
"Damn it," Eira hissed. "They planned this too well. Without light, Kael's shadows—"
Pyaass!
A brilliant glow erupted from her palm, casting golden illumination through the car. The sigil of light shone fiercely, pushing back the dark. Kael, standing nearby, gave her a sharp nod of gratitude.
"Shadows," he commanded, his voice resonating like a vow, "heed me. Secure them all."
And the shadows obeyed. Like living tendrils, they slid across the floor, wrapping around sleeping passengers, buckling belts, lifting bodies into seats with uncanny precision. The air trembled with power, yet the passengers remained undisturbed, still deep in unnatural slumber.
"It's working…" Ean whispered in awe, racing to check seat after seat. "We might actually make it."
But Kael staggered, coughing harshly. Eira's light wavered as she turned toward him, alarm flashing across her face.
"You're pushing yourself too hard!"
He shook his head, refusing to falter. Blood stained the corner of his lips, but his eyes burned with iron resolve.
"Almost there…" he muttered hoarsely. "If I fail… everyone dies."
At the front of the train, the conductor lay unconscious. Kael pressed forward, dragging his weakening body into the engine room.
Eira followed, leaping out onto the roof of the train, her light sigils forming spears that she hurled down at the rails in a desperate attempt to slow their speed. Sparks erupted as glowing projectiles pierced metal.
"Kael, hold on…" she whispered through clenched teeth.
Inside, Kael spread his arms wide, shadows coiling around him like a storm. "By the pact of darkness," he intoned, "lend me your strength."
The train screeched, the wheels shrieking as shadows clawed at them like anchors. Metal groaned, sparks flew, the entire vessel trembling under the pressure.
Ean braced himself against the wall, his ears ringing with the unbearable screech. He clutched Kael's shoulder, steadying him as the man swayed dangerously.
The silvery blonde-haired woman above clenched her fists as the ruined bridge loomed into sight, its collapsed beams yawning like a hungry mouth.
Her heart hammered. She could leap and save herself. But if she did, every life on this train would be lost.
"What do I do?" she whispered to herself, torn between instinct and duty.
The ravine drew closer. Time was running out.