The train travels with a steady rhythm that lulls Althea to sleep. It’s a sleep withdrawn from the unthreading reality forced upon her these past few days. In these dreams, everything felt okay like the future was obtainable and not a slippery wet ball in her sweaty unskilled hands. If Althea could tie herself to her dreams for an eternity like a cursed princess then maybe she wouldn’t feel so much like the ground is shaking under her and waiting for her to fall into its endless void. The shaking ground continues but soon it calls her name in a baritone voice that sounds exactly like Professor Branch, her Natural Talent’s professor at the University of Axelia.

His voice gets louder and more stern but she stays tethered to her world of dreams like a man searching for a will to live. The ground continues to shake and then from nowhere the sound of glass cracking breaks her eyes open.

Looking around, Althea is out of breath and sees some pieces of broken glass on the train floor. Her thick coiled hair sticks to her sweaty face and her hands with painted black nails decorated with white stars are shaking. On her side, in this small train cabin along with her is Professor Branch whose fingers glow a forest green as he holds up a magical energy shield that glistens like the morning dew on a patch of grass. Althea checks over her body, her clothes are still covered with blood stains that are not her own and the new orange sneakers she bought are dirty, scuffed up, and look like she’s had them for years rather than a month. There is no damage to her body, only a lingering crick in her neck. She moves her head, releasing the crack in her neck and stretches her arms up then she turns to face Professor Branch. Sweat drips down his gray brows as they knit in concentration and the room is filled with an earthy aroma. His focus is on his task as he remains alert, listening out for something.

Outside their room, they hear their fellow passengers engaging in distressing conversation. Every single person asking the same question. A question Althea utters out herself.

“What just happened?”

Althea waits for the Professor to answer, trying to avoid gazing at the bandage on the Professor’s cheek but it’s difficult as her gaze seems compelled to focus there. After a minute of waiting, Professor Branch doesn’t respond so Althea finally forces herself to look away from him and out at the train window. A train window that’s empty of the glass on its panel…Perplexed, she narrows her eyes and the lush landscape of trees passes by her eyes without a proper greeting. Foolishly, she stands up, deciding she needs a closer view out the window. Nearing Professor Branches magical energy shield’s borders, she feels strong hands gently grip her shoulders and then pull her back.

“What are you doing?” The Professor hisses with anger.

Althea looks back at him without an answer because what was she doing? They were on a moving train and whatever caused the commotion was probably not viewable by now.

“Professor Branch,” she starts, her voice full of fear. “What’s going on?”

The green energy shield held up by Professor Branch was broken when he grabbed her shoulders and the earthy scent that surrounded them was gone, replaced with the smell of Professor Branch’s expensive cologne.

Professor Branch takes his hands off of her shoulders and takes a step back.

“Now you wake,” he mutters under his breath.

Within a few steps, he’s on the other side of the room, looking as if he’s going to sit down but he doesn’t. Instead, he paces in the confined space of their roomette with very few steps. Days ago, when they first boarded this train the Professor enhanced the roomette with his magic to be more walkable for them both but just barely. The whole time he paces Althea’s eyes follow him, watching as his gray dreads swing a bit with every quick anxious movement he makes. Once he’s done pacing, he sits at the opposite end of their roomette with a stiff posture, looking like a statue of himself.

Althea wonders if she’ll poke him if he’ll crumble to pebbles upon her touch.

“What happened?” Althea asks again but this time a yawn tumbles after her words are out.

“He’s still here and with the commotion this is sure to have caused…” Professor Branch stops talking, the wrinkles on his face create a stressful portrait with an array of colors of frustration.

Outside of their roomette, they could hear panicked footsteps and passengers starting to walk towards the front of the train, probably to seek answers from the conductor. They could also hear the staff following after the passengers all speaking in soothing tones as they tried to calm everyone down.

“Um,” Althea starts, wishing she could go back to her dream where her wrongs didn’t carry the weight of the world. “A plan. We need a plan!”

“I could freeze him,” she finishes, telling him the first idea that pops into her head.

Professor Branch pinches the bridge of his nose. “No, the last thing we need is a train full of frozen passengers.”

Althea begins to protest but remembers how at freshman orientation she almost froze the whole freshman year when trying to chill a hot coffee she bought that morning.

“I’ve improved…” she insists as she dramatically places a hand on her chest. “I am managing a B in your class.”

“You’re managing a D, Ms. Grant.”

At birth, the last name Grant is bestowed on the beings who descend from long lines of those who were chosen by the earth itself to protect her. They will only retrieve their parent’s chosen last name or a last name of their choosing if they receive a blessing from the elemental beings who are the chosen rulers of the elements. Althea has an affinity for ice magic but Glaciera only gives her blessings to those who are worthy. It took Althea’s mom only fifteen years after her powers were bestowed upon her to earn her last name back. If Althea had to theorize when she’d be released from the Grant last name well it wouldn’t be anytime soon.

“What? A D? Is this because of my report because I told you I didn’t realize I incorporated a wasp spell on the citation page!”

“Oh, this is definitely about the wasps,” he replies with narrowed eyes. “Of all the students to get stuck with.”

He says the last part under his breath.

“Professor Branch, in high school I was voted most likely to try to succeed.”

Professor Branch looks at her in confusion. “That doesn’t boost my confidence in you.”

“Well, it should because a person that tries is a person that can.” She replies then after a thought continues. “I should copyright that.”

Professor Branch looks at her as if she’s wearing a dunce hat and in his head she probably is. “Ms. Grant. I would like to remind you that we are the last remaining two magic users in this dimension. I know you know nothing of the artifact we must retrieve but if he figures out how to use it we are looking at a decimation of all species. It’s imperative that we—“

“Restore all magic and bring everyone back,” she says, cutting him off. “I’m aware, Professor Branch. But in order to do that it’s vital we see each other as equal partners.”

“You are barely into your second semester of learning magic, Ms. Grant. Forgive me for not seeing you as an equal.”

Althea purses her lips. “Professor Branch, I’m all you’ve got and if we must take this guy down to restore order I need you to believe in me.”

Professor Branch looks her over. “Alright, Althea, prove yourself. Restore the glass of our window.”

“Right now?” Althea says with a nervous gulp. She was never good at pop quizzes. “Uh, yeah, I can do that.”

She gets up from her seat and puts her hands out. “Glass shards, reunite.”

Her hands glow a pastel blue and the glass on the floor begins to rise but then they drop. The glow in her hands dissipates and she looks at them with dissatisfaction.

“Okay, so when a verbal spell doesn’t do the trick…then…” she thinks of the old nursery rhyme that granters teach their kids. “Give your finger just a prick!”

She reaches down to touch the broken glass shards but a black miasma surrounds them and she falls back onto the floor, hitting the seating of the room. “Why did it do that?”

Professor Branch’s dark brown skin pales a bit as a frightened look crosses his face.

“It’s a tracker spell. Only activated when it finds a magical target who interacts with it… Not only is he here but we’ve just told him exactly where we are.”