As the moonlight glinted across the surface of the foggy lake, a creaking fishing boat slowly emerged from the dense mist. The lake was eerily silent, save for the soft splashes of water against the wooden hull. The boat pulled up to the old dock, and a few passengers began to disembark
Among them was a young man wearing a worn blue jacket - Kael. He stepped onto the icy wooden planks, his eyes scanning the misty landscape. The cold wind tugged at his jacket as he watched the people he had helped rescue step onto land, free at last.
Kael turned to the captain of the boat. "Thank you for bringing us across the lake."
The captain, an older man with a thick beard and weather-beaten face, gave a short nod. "No problem. You saved our village from Garrick. It feels good to return the favor."
Kael's eyes lingered on the horizon, snow-covered and endless. "So… where will they go now? This land is huge and mostly frozen."
"That's true, Lord Kael," the captain said with concern. "Traveling through this snow is dangerous. I can feel it… a storm is coming."
Some of the freed former slaves approached Kael. Their clothes were no longer ragged, and some of them carried large bags on their backs.
"Thank you, Lord Kael. We can finally go home."
Kael nodded. "Your homes must be far away. You've been gone for so long."
"It doesn't matter," one man said. "We have our own ways of returning."
Then, a woman from among them stepped forward. Her voice was warm and calm. "This dock isn't just any place. It's a trade route. The Sagu village uses it to send goods from fishing to the nearby city."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "And how do they transport the goods?"
"With an iron serpent," the woman replied. "Faster than any horse. The Snow Train Potter Express."
As if summoned by her words, a loud metallic clanging echoed across the snowy plains. The deep, rhythmic sound of a train approaching.
Moments later, a sleek steel train emerged from the white haze, steam billowing into the cold air. The freed passengers began boarding the train. Kael moved toward the back, letting everyone else go first. Just as he was about to climb aboard, a train officer stopped him.
"Hey, kid. First time on a train? You gotta pay the fare. Five gold coins."
Kael froze. "I… I need to pay?"
He reached into his pockets, his heart pounding. They were empty. His pouch of coins was gone. He had brought enough for his journey but now they were missing. Stolen. Probably during his last encounter with Garrick.
His face turned pale. Panic set in.
Just then, a familiar voice called out. "I'll pay for him."
Kael looked up. Lira was standing beside him, handing gold coins to the officer.
"Come on, Kael," she said with a smirk. "Think of it as my way of saying thanks… for saving me."
The two boarded together. Inside, the warmth of the train was stunning a total contrast to the bitter cold outside. The interior was wide, elegant, and filled with people, likely travelers from distant cities. Kael took a seat by the window. A table sat in front of him. Across it, Lira opened a small notebook and began writing.
"So this is what it feels like… riding a train," Kael murmured, his breath still fogging from the cold.
The train jolted slightly and then began to move. Kael looked out the window as the landscape started sliding by. The village of Sagu was already fading into the distance.
"Incredible… is this what they call technology?" he said, amazed.
"Don't tell me you think this is another Engine," Lira chuckled.
"Isn't it? It moves like one."
"Nope. Trains run on coal. Totally different from the Engines like the one in your glove."
Kael glanced at his right hand, the glove embedded with mysterious machinery.
"You know a lot about Engines," he said.
"Of course. I've met many Engine users before."
Kael tilted his head. "Are you writing about them in that notebook?"
Lira laughed. "No! These are cooking recipes. When I worked as a maid, the old lady I served gave me her old recipe book."
Kael's eyes widened. "That old woman, the one who poisoned me? She used to be a good person?"
"She had her moments," Lira replied with a grin.
Kael's face grew more serious. "So… where are you going now?"
"I was about to ask you the same thing," Lira said, closing her notebook. "Surely you're not traveling without a goal."
Kael looked out the window again. "I'm hunting someone… the one who destroyed my clan."
Lira leaned forward. "Who?"
"The Ghost General… of the Stronov clan. I am Kael Stronov. I swore to find him and end him."
"Revenge, then?"
Kael nodded. "But first, I must grow stronger. That's why I'm heading north to find a master."
"Be careful. That General might be an Engine user too."
"He is," Kael growled. "He stole the Engine our clan was protecting. A military disgrace… bastard!"
Lira was quiet for a moment. "Well… now you've got an Engine too. That gives you a fighting chance."
"I'll defeat him myself," Kael said with burning eyes. "I found this glove while searching for my teacher. It's fate."
"Well, maybe our paths will cross again. I have a clan too, though we move a lot. Perhaps you'll meet someone from my side, one of the strongest Engine users, my elder brother."
"Wait! Do you mean Yuri Stronov?" Kael stood up, palms flat on the table.
"No… not him. My brother's name is Giswan," Lira answered, confused.
Kael slumped back in his seat. "Ah… I thought you meant Yuri."
"Sorry, never heard of that guy," Lira replied, laughing.
Suddenly, the train rattled violently THUMP! A jolt shook the cabin.
"What was that?" Kael asked.
"Probably hit something," Lira said casually. "This train's too strong to stop. Even a fly would vanish at this speed."
Kael forced a small smile but looked out the window again. Snow was falling thick and fast. His heart stirred with worry. 'I hope Sagu village will be safe.'
== ██=█POTTER█=[██████▆▆▆▆▄▄]=====
Back at Sagu Village
The celebrations at the docks continued. Some people sang, others worked tirelessly to repair the damage left behind. But then, a tall, cloaked figure stepped onto the dock. His coat was thick and black, lined with fur. He walked slowly with the help of a cane. His left hand was wrinkled, aged. But his right hand a mechanical golden arm gleamed under the moonlight.
He approached a group of drunken men.
"Excuse me, gentlemen. What's the occasion?" he asked.
"We're celebrating, old man! You want a drink?"
"No, thank you. I'm not in the mood. Tell me where is Garrick, your boss?"
"Garrick?" one of them scoffed. "That scum is dead. Some hero threw him into the lake."
"Dead, you say?"
"Yep. Should've been here to see it, old man."
"Tell me about this hero."
The drunk man grinned. "I was a slave about to be eaten by the lake dragon. Then BAM! This guy jumps in, smashes the dragon, tosses Garrick into the water like a ragdoll. Said something epic too, STAR GINGGA! Haha!"
"I see…" the old man nodded, seemingly pleased.
Suddenly ROOOOAAAR! The lake exploded into a towering column of water. From it rose a sea dragon, far larger than the one before.
"That's it! That's the dragon!" someone shouted.
"No, it's even bigger!" another corrected, now sobering up in fear.
The old man didn't flinch. "Tell me… where did your hero go?"
ROAR! The beast bellowed again, terrifying the villagers.
"Old man, RUN! There's a damn dragon behind you!" a drunk cried, collapsing in fear.
"Dragon? Why should I be afraid?" the old man said coldly. "You should fear what's coming next because the storm is approaching."
As the dragon smashed boats and roared across the dock, the skies darkened. Thunder cracked. Snow turned violent. From the swirling chaos, a figure shot down from the heavens.
A young man, dressed in flowing robes lined with golden patterns, descended with a massive scythe in hand.
SSSSHRRAAAK!
In one swift motion, the newcomer cleaved the dragon in two.
The figure landed beside the old man. In the villagers' eyes, he appeared as a young man white hair tinged with black, possibly in his early twenties.
"You're late, Zhaoran," the old man said.
"Sorry, Grandpa Gring. You know I don't like being rushed."
"Garrick is dead. I want you to find the one they call 'hero'."
"Hero, huh?" Zhaoran smirked.
Gring turned to the trembling men again. "Tell me. What did this hero look like?"
"He was young wore a blue jacket. He had a metal glove on his right hand."
"Where did he go?"
"To the other side of the lake. There's a port there… and a train station."
"So where exactly is he headed?"
The drunk man raised a finger, thinking hard
"Probably… to SPIDER CITY."