Dull yellowish light slipped through the cracks of the barred windows, slicing through the pitch-black darkness inside the stuffy iron carriage.
Time shifted from afternoon toward evening. The rhythm of the train crushing the rails rumbled rhythmically. Clack... clack... clack... The air inside the steel cabin felt cold yet suffocating, thick with the scent of rust, coal residue, and lubricant.
Roland leaned against the hard wooden bench. His dark blue diplomatic coat was slightly wrinkled, but his black hair remained neatly combed. The man closed one eye, half-resting, letting his ears catch every shifting sound.
Beside him, Selene sat with an unyielding posture. The sea-blue robes of the Water Arcanum wrapped her body gracefully. The Arcanum Master stared at the steel wall with a slightly furrowed brow. The air in this place was completely void. There was not a single drop of natural mana particles she could sense.
