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ABBY WAS NOT excited, she told herself. 

Visiting Triad was solely to meet with the Wizard, and use his connections to help track down the Dawn Stag. That was it. It was not the time to fawn over the Wizard, or ask for advice on how to cultivate plants that didn't have a proclivity for wheezing, oozing, retching, or sneezing.

It was not the time to tour the Acadium, or buy up the entirety of the gift shop's stock, or study the curriculum and slip an admissions form from the office into her pocket, one she could fill out when she was eligible to apply. 

No, the point of their tram trip in the first place was to discover the Dawn Stag's location and return it to the sky, saving all the realms and magick in the process. 

She shifted in her seat, unable to control the nervous energy rolling through her, causing her toes to wiggle and her fingers to shake. The tram bounced along the track, it curving with the Mirean coastline. A welcomed gust of sea air blew through the compartment's open window, blowing wisps of hair into her eyes. Outside, emerald long grass swayed in dappled sunlight. Ean had long since disappeared behind them, its ever-present shroud of smog left within the city's limits. 

Abby breathed out, pushing the hair from her eyes. Her chest squeezed, sweat dripping down her neck. But she was not excited, just nervous. It was her first trip to Triad, after all, and the capital was known for its opulence, it's many wards tailor-made for the nobility of the royal court. She was sure her outfit wouldn't fit - it was too simple, a basic cotton tunic with three-quarter length sleeves, and dark trousers. It lacked any intricate stitching or fancy lace trim, or elaborate embellishments. 

Not that those things measured luxury. Lucy and Axion's outfits drowned in sea glass garland and polished buttons, and were made of dyed silks. But they were gaudy at best. The sleeves on Axion's shirt were too puffy, his collar starched to his ears. Lucy's trousers were too pleated, and boasted a mis-matched collection of belts. They were both certainly channeling something, just not style, at least none Abby was aware of. 

She wrung her hands together, her lips pressed. She shifted again.

"Love?" Lucy leaned back on the bench seat, his fingers squeezing one of the cushion's many lumps. "You okay?"

Abby nodded. No, absolutely not. "Yep," she said, her voice so high it cracked. "I'm--" 

Something fell out of her pocket. She froze, Lucy bending forward to pick her book off the floor. Her face ignited. 

So much for pretending she wasn't excited.

A sigh escaped her as Lucy's eyes scanned the front cover. "The Wizard Kellog's ABCs for Perfecting the Craft?" His mouth lilted into a grin at the same pace Abby's slid into a frown. Often they were at their most in sync when she was her most mortified. She covered her head with her hands, unable to look Lucy in the eyes. 

He traced a finger over the book's well-worn spine and edges, rounded from years of use. 

"Wh-what?" she said defensively. She struck out an arm with every intention of retrieving her book, shoving it back into her pocket, and forgetting the incident had ever occurred. Lucy, still tapped in to his Aelurian reflexes, easily batted her hand away. Knowing him, he was not going to let her live this down, after she had insisted she would focus on the task at hand. 

The Dawn Stag. Saving the Eridan. Restoring magick. 

But the temptation had been too great to resist. The Wizard Kellog had been her hero since childhood. One autograph surely wasn't that big of a deal.

"I'll have you know it's for research." She tried to reach for her book again, and this time, Lucy let her have it. She brought the book to her chest, happy to see he hadn't scratched the mughound leather cover, or dulled the scarlet color with finger smudges. The portrait of the Wizard Kellog on the back cover winked up at her. 

"Sure," Lucy said, half-smirking. He leaned back in his seat, arms stretched over his head. "Research." His gaze swiftly landed on the table in their little compartment, currently saddled with a mountain of Wizard Kellog items ranging from first edition books kept in jealousy-inducing pristine conditions, to official Wizard Kellog portraits, to special edition gold-trimmed cornflower blue beakers, stirrers and potion bottles.

"Let me guess," Lucy said, his voice booming over the screeching of tram wheels. "Miss Puffs, that mountain of junk, that's just for research too?" 

Margo had had her head in a book, but stopped abruptly to glower at Lucy. "Junk?" she hissed and lunged for the Wizard Kellog doll perched on the windowsill. Her hands protectively stroked the doll's wrinkle-free suit. "They're not junk. They're treasures." 

Abby nodded, a feeling of envy unfurling in her gut. The doll was one of five hundred made, created with impeccable detail. The star-patterned stitching along his jacket and trousers matched his stage costume, the polish of his shoes reflected the sunlight streaming through the window. The pleats of his shirt were crisp, the collar starched enough to sit comfortably beneath his chin. 

She had wanted the doll when she'd heard about its Mirean release. But it'd sold out within the hour. Her father, along with Mimi and Reynold, had gone into Laos the night before, to wait outside the only store that stocked them. The line had wormed its way through the city and most of the Amber Docks. 

Abby remembered how crestfallen she'd been when they returned home without it. She cried and threw herself on the bed, determined to be inconsolable. That's when her father had slipped a copy of The Wizard Kellog's ABCs on her bedside table. He knew she'd been disappointed about the doll, but he thought she'd like the book after skimming the back cover. That, and he'd known she didn't already have it in her collection. It hadn't taken long before that book had become a favorite. 

"I aim to get an autograph," added Margo, carefully setting the doll back on the sill. "I will not have someone like you shame me." She crossed her arms and huffed. "I'm aware of our mission, but you can't ask me to meet with the Wizard Kellog, greatest Wizard of all time, and expect me to come away empty-handed."

"You planning on getting everything autographed?" asked Sebbi, gaze sweeping over her collection. "All this might make the Wizard's hand cramp."

She straightened in her seat. "It's not really any of your business." She side-eyed him. "But yes, I would like him to autograph what he can."

Lucy snorted. 

Crossing her arms and with chin jutted, Margo returned her attention to the Mirean coast flying by. "It's like sending me to Greysen's Cheesery and telling me not to sample the cheeses." Her cheeks glowed a soft petal-pink. "It's impossible." 

"I understand you, mouse-wizardess." Axion looked up from the map of Triad he had rolled out on his lap. He'd been scouring the map for most of their journey, taking a red pen and drawing lines through streets and alleyways, circling different buildings. He'd been constructing the perfect sandwich route, one that would ensure he hit up the most shops in the fewest hours, and with the least amount of steps. So far, twenty of the thirty sandwich shops were included in his route, but he was adamant he could do twenty-five, so great was his genius. "How can I, a sandwich connoisseur with such a refined palate, be expected to go to Triad without tasting its local delicacies?" 

Abby gritted her teeth as a familiar nerve twitched in her neck. 

"It's simply a no-go." 

Margo gave a quick nod, grateful to Axion for his help, though help was a bit of an exaggeration considering he rattled off the usual praise about himself. 

Abby leaned over, examining his map. The details were impressive, though she doubted he'd be able to wade through Triad's eastern river, and bypass the main road by going through a bunch of privately owned backyards, in order to hit up three shops in a row. Surely, the city guard would stop such suspicious behavior especially with the perpetrator's face concealed in bandages.

She chuckled. "You ought to be a sandwich shop tour guide."

Gold slipped between the folds in Axion's bandages. "Does such a position exist? If so, I dare say I'd be the perfect candidate. I was once a king in charge of an entire realm. I'm sure it's a far simpler task, herding a pack of hungry patrons to the sandwich shops of their dreams."

Margo laughed, and her radiance flared a light blue, matching the sky outside. It was airy and without complication, and Abby was grateful to see her friend in such high spirits. It hadn't been that long ago, Margo had offered up her life to protect the Hollows, that she had been so sure of her sacrifice, she resisted any attempt at persuasion. And then Calleighdia had taken her place, and Margo had stopped smiling. Margo still hadn't forgotten what Calleighdia did, neither had Abby, but she had started to move on, demonstrating the resilience the Cloudians were known for.

Lucy placed an elbow on the windowsill, and pouted.  "Grass, grass, grass. Isn't there anything more impressive than grass?"

Abby leaned in to him, voice low. "We saw the Blood Plains."

He rolled his eyes. "That's merely a field of red grass."

"You know," said Margo, who twisted in her seat to better face them. Lucy perked up at the mouse-wizardess's voice, aimed his way. "They say the Blood Plains formed from a dragon's wing."

Sebbi stopped running his fingers down a lumpy pillow, Abby assumed he longed to tear apart with the claws he no longer possessed, to join in. "Who's they?"

"They." Margo wrinkled her nose. "Scholars. Academics. The recorders of histories."

"So its just a story?"

"There's no evidence that it's true," Margo said slowly. "But there's also no evidence it's not true." The words almost tripped over themselves to escape her mouth.

"Dad used to say," said Abby. "That a dragon's blood was the reason the Fragilli was green."

"Ah! Yes!" Margo jumped to her feet, excitedly. She pounced on the pile of books, eyes and radiance dazzling. Combing through the volumes, and tossing aside those she didn't want, though careful not to crease the pages or tear the covers, she finally stopped on a scarlet hardcover, the title in glossy, curly, gold font. "A City on the Mouth." She peeled it open, eyes bouncing across the pages. 

In her most studious voice, she began, "The story of Triad goes all the way back to the first of the royal line - Almarna Langstone. During the Age of the Daughter, it's said she rallied the factions of first humans across Mirea against a rampaging dragon. The dragon was so big, it's shadow eclipsed a quarter of the continent at a time, and its fires, so hot, they melted stone. That's how the glass beaches were made - forged in dragon's breath.  Almarna mounted an all-out assault on the dragon, chasing it from one side of the continent to the other. Finally, she landed the fatal blow, and the dragon's body fell from the sky, and blanketed most of Mirean's eastern coast. Before it died, the dragon raised its head and with a terrifying roar, blew a pillar of fire that caught Mirea's sun. They say it blazes with the dragon's breath to this day.  After that, the different human tribes united under Almarna and she was crowned queen. She ordered Mirea's capital be built on the dragon's remains, so they never forgot the calamity humanity faced, and the victory of the indomitable human spirit. Triad's said to have been constructed in the dragon's mouth, perched right on its tongue. The mountains surrounding it, are the dragon's teeth, that's why they reach so high, and look like they're ready to tear apart the sky. The city's three rivers are supposedly three of the dragon's ribs, the Blood Plains made from the wings." She closed her book, a satisfied grin on her face.

"Interesting," said Axion. "My father built a great many things on top of his enemies bones, but never cities. You hemma are as industrious as the rumors say."

"It could be true," added Abby. "Considering Drygons did exist."

Margo nodded. "I always thought so."

"Drygon's blessed," mused Sebbi, his eyelids heavy, his voice drowsy. Abby had thought he'd been napping, but apparently he'd been listening the entire time.

"You read about  the Drygon blessed?" She couldn't hide the astonishment in her voice. From all of Sebbi's letters, he turned tail and ran the moment Reven came at him with a book. And before that, as a cat, Sebbi ignored anything he couldn't shred with his claws. But he'd read? Truly?

"You read," he teased and Abby's skin heated. "I  more or less skimmed the pages, while your back was to me." Her flush deepened. Sebbi had been close to her, interested in what she'd read? And he'd kept it secret all this time?  "But yeah, I remembered bits and pieces. In Noriie, I met a family who matched the descriptions. Had scales and horns."

Her eyes widened. "They exist?"

He nodded. "And they talk about the Mother Dragon. Maybe the creature slain by Triad's first royal, and their deity was one in the same."

Abby drew in a breath. Cutting down a deity. Doing so had far-reaching consequences as evidenced in Mirea's own history. Such a thing had led to the religious purges of the earlier ages, and continent-wide suppression. Then, the zealots were expunged from the royal court, the crown separated itself from the church, and believers were chased out of cities. Laos had been a refuge for them, until the sailors and merchants who frequented the port led a revolt, and reclaimed the city. 

"Abby?" Sebbi's voice startled her from her thoughts. "You okay?"

She nodded. "I was just thinking about how you had quite the adventure." Her eyes narrowed. "And have told me so little about it."

He gulped, crimson crawling up his neck. "We've been busy." 

"There's time now," said Margo, banishing Axion to the other side of the compartment. Lucy scowled at the change in seat partner. "I'd like to hear about the southern continent too. I've never been." 

"Okay." He ran a hand tentatively through his hair. "First off, the people who live there call it Noriie." 

Abby and Margo repeated the word, both of them grinning. And then Sebbi proceeded to them them about Bantu and Uusa, and the fearsome cat Dancer. About the endless sea of desert, about the differences in Mirean and Noriean fish stews, and about the Wizard Kellog's performance, which he was forced to repeat, in agonizing detail, three more times after the initial telling.

Outside the Tram traversed the mountains, climbing and swerving, and whipping around bends. The sun dipped low, the sky a vibrant orange. 

She listened, hung on his every word and mesmerized by the softness in his face, and the warmth of his smile. Even Lucy and Axion paid attention, all of them eager for Sebbi's story because that was the point of going on an adventure - coming home, and telling it to your loved ones. 

*

"Estimated arrival in Triad - ten minutes," came the overhead voice. It sputtered from the overhead speaker box, a loose wire sparking. It very much reminded Abby of her time spent in Fritz, the Tells' own AI-operated carriage, that hadn't gotten nearly enough maintenance.

"From what I read, it should come into view once we round this bend." Margo hurried to the window, Abby following behind. Neither Sebbi or Lucy seemed all that interested in the view, but she smacked each of their shoulders. "Come on," she urged. As she passed Axion, she scooped the map off his lap. He frowned, but before he could protest, she was waving him up.

Together, they crowded around the window, Margo's radiance exuding so much excited yellow, it tinted their cabin. The Tram pitched forward, one last time as it climbed the mountain, before veering full-speed around the bend. The Tram was an older model, operated by an AI that lacked the more modernized tram's inflection software that imparted it with human-like emotions, but it was still a good tram. The brakes were enhanced to work within a millisecond of being triggered, the wheels braced with ly'ren stone, which allowed the tram to retain its top speed around curves and up hills. It however lacked the stabilizers the newer models came equipped with, which meant the riders felt every bump. Abby jumped forward, Sebbi's hand pulling her back, before her face could collide with the window.

Feeling more scarlet than the cabin's pillows, Abby muttered a quiet thank you, head down.

And just as softly, Sebbi murmured, "I would never let you come to harm."

Suddenly, the tram wasn't the only thing jumping along its tracks, so was Abby's heart.

"Look..." Margo smacked her back. "Look!" She pressed a finger into the glass, her eyes widening as Triad came into view.

Abby had never seen anything like it. A fortress of labyrinthine streets, and massive buildings - with pointed roofs, and sea glass decorated gutters, spoiled in gold-trim like one of Lucy's tunics. Greenery clung to the walls, massive clumps of moss and Mirthea, adding to the golden and cream color-scheme. The castle was farthest away, surrounded by iron-wrought, arched windows, unwelcoming spiked turrets piercing the clouds. A dome of sea glass sparkled the colors of a sunburst.

It was all impressive, but it was not what held their interest. It was not what drew their gaze, but the Wizard Kellog's magickal school, it's gravity undeniable.

It was a large building near the edge of the city. The building flatter and squatter and lacking the rest of the city's adornments. One river cut through a quad of lush vegetation, and giant Burlas. Made of cream-colored bricks with cornflower blue flags that waved in the wind. Braziers lined a walkway up to the entrance, their fires red hot, their smoke purple-tinted. The smoke writhed and curled, contorting, and folding back on itself until it formed dragons. With mighty beats of their wings, they shot into the sky, circling the school and roaring before dissipating.

Abby's eyes widened. It was the same magick that had been used at the entrance to Mandarren Square. Real magick, helmed by the realm's only true mage.

"I can't believe we're here," said Margo, flinging her curls from out of her face. "And that it's there." She squeezed Abby's arm. "It's just like the pictures."

Abby blew out. "It's amazing."

Lucy huffed behind them. "I'm amazing." He flicked his wrist. "That's just a building."

Margo rounded on him. "A building of immense import. Where Mirea's best study the elements and learn to harness their power.  Where potioneers are provided the best training in the world. Where the Wizard Kellog has been inspired to craft some of his most popular sellers." Her eyes flicked back to her Wizard doll. "You can't feel it, but..." She raised her arm, skin prickled with bumps. "The magick here is unbelievable. It's not this strong in Aelurus, it shouldn't be like this here and yet—"

Static crackled over them. "Pulling into the station shortly. All riders, please return to your seats to ensure safe docking."

With a frown, and slumped shoulders Margo returned to her seat. Lucy sat beside her, Axion, much to Lucy's annoyance, beside him. Sebbi and Abby sat on the opposite bench. He rested his hands on his knees, his fingers brushing against hers.

She gulped, and stared ahead, determined not to let her mind obsess on what was clearly accidental contact.

Whirls of cream and gold blurred past the window. The tram slowed, the intricate designs of each building - the carvings of trees, and animals and birds captured mid-flight - becoming all the more vivid.

Citrus perfumed the air, a stark difference, from the grease-heavy smoke she'd breathed in in Ean.

Margo giddily tapped her feet against the floor, her radiance blossoming into a pale, blue flower at her back.

"Welcome," said the operator. "To Mirea's capital city - Triad. Known for its three rivers, its panoramic views of the Terrabound Mountain Ranges, and the Wizard Kellog's premier Acadium, training the country's most talented alchemists, potioneers, and wizards. We hope you enjoy your stay."

Abby grinned, knowing they would.