The early morning air was crisp and biting, the sky still cloaked in darkness as Sylene sprinted away from the train tracks—just before the train came to a complete stop. His movements were a blur, too fast for ordinary eyes—like a shadow slipping between worlds. Snow crunched beneath his swift, light steps, leaving a trail of small, fleeting footprints in the alley near the station, soon to be erased by the heavy snowfall that had continued relentlessly since the night before.
In the distance, the faint silhouettes of workers came into view, busy unloading coal into containers beneath the dim glow of hanging lamps. They moved slowly, lazily—some yawning, still groggy from sleep and groaning in protest.
"Today's too gloomy to work… but we have to unload these," one of them complained.
The others silently agreed, their pace slowing even more as a few returned from inside the building with warm drinks in hand.
"The snow's too heavy—I just want to go home and sleep."
"Isn't your wife due date any day now? How're you gonna pay the hospital bill if you sleep on the job?" another worker teased.
The man groaned, took a long sip of his tea, then went back to shoveling coal, the snowfall piling steadily around him.
Sylene saw his chance. With the workers distracted, too busy enjoying the comfort of their steaming cups, it was the perfect moment to move. The winter chill was especially sharp today, making even the humans sluggish.
His hand went to his pocket to touch the ice rose he had retrieved beside the door of the coal platform—it remained cold and intact, so he shoved it back in.
A pause. His chest rose and fell with a steadying breath. The faint scent of burning coal mingled with the icy air, grounding his thoughts. Where to go? How to escape this labyrinth-like station unnoticed?
He knew humans must take precautions with trains that passed through vampire territory—he had to be careful.
Instinct carried him toward the main building, drawn by the promise of warmth, shelter—and warm drinks. The station was quieter than expected, the bustle centered around the newly arrived coal train. Even the stern-looking guards appeared relaxed.
Slipping into a narrow corridor, Sylene stayed in the shadows, each movement quick and deliberate. Workers and guards remained preoccupied, attention fixed on the train. He wove through the maze of passageways, sharp eyes scanning for an exit.
But doubling back led only to confusion. Everything felt foreign—the air, the cold, the building, the noise. Even the snow seemed unlike what he'd known. The scent of coal and steel clung heavily, unfamiliar and stifling. Despite the uncertainty, a flicker of hope still stirred within.
Not far from the hiding place, a yawning train guard dragged his baggage along, reeking of coal—likely heading home after a long shift. Sylene followed quietly, steps sure and silent. He mimicked the guard's movements like an old acquaintance. Once outside, he slipped away.
From a distance, a sign came into view: "Exit."
This was it.
A sharp ache in his thumb pulled him back to reality—a reminder of immediate needs. A market or an inn was necessary now—somewhere to rest properly for the first time in days. The weight of the gold coins from Sir Draven offered small comfort, their faint clinking a quiet reassurance.
Markets had only existed in stories, whispered by palace maids or gossiped about by idle scientists. Now, for the first time, he was about to see one for himself.
A faint, steady thump echoed with each footstep. The pulse in his throat quickened as he neared the station's exit.
But first, a disguise was essential. Clothes coated in coal dust hung stiff and filthy, more like rags than garments. Even the once-lustrous silver hair had turned dull, ashen black from days of soot-filled hiding. Fingers swiped absently through the strands, catching on tangles.
A dark cloak, fresh clothes, and a bath—bare minimums for blending in. Showing up at an inn looking like a beggar would only mean rejection.
The thought gave him purpose.
From the corridor's end, the first light of dawn stretched across the sky.
A beautiful purple and orange glow painted the horizon. The moon had hidden away, its pale light replaced by the bold, golden fire of the rising sun. Like a king reclaiming his throne, the sun reigned—unchallenged and bright.
This dawn felt different—like a greeting to a new life in a new town. Strange, yet thrilling.
Now came the decision: stay or move to a safer city. This place sat on the border between human and vampire territories, a human city fortified with military presence to guard against vampire incursions.
Yet from what he had seen, the defenses seemed... lacking—too relaxed.
From outside the station, Sylene saw a unit of human soldiers moving in formation, their heavy weaponry gleaming under the dim lighting. Among them walked hybrids—identifiable by their animalistic traits or faint vampiric lineage, clearly different from ordinary humans.
Leading the group was a man clad in a crisp, meticulously pressed uniform that immediately caught Sylene's attention. The sharp lines of the fabric, the polished buttons that gleamed under the light—everything about it exuded authority. Without meaning to, Sylene found his gaze lingering. There was something almost magnetic about the way the uniform fit, its presence too commanding to ignore.
That uniform would look good on Sir Draven-
Then their eyes met.