After three days of train ride to the west, Mira had started to detest trains more than the platinum calaians. She despised trains- she hated how it barely gave her any room to move, the constant rumblings and movements in the car, and the hours of sleep that the monstrous hunk of metal had robbed from her. Most of all, she loathed the freezing cold temperature in the train. The cold caused her scales to itch unbearably.

The chill was unfortunately amplified when they passed through the Mountains of Iria. The high altitude and perpetual snow storm worsened the itch on her scales. She continued to try to scratch it off, which resulted in some scrapes on her light scales- not that she give a damn about it. She had faced worse injuries, so a simple scrape was not going to discourage her from trying to get rid of an annoyance.

Mira raised her head, keen to spot any forms of life on the train. Being in a private car, there were only her fellow members of the Masks on it. Much to her disappointment, she realized that the train was pretty much in a lifeless state, except for the occasional snores from a certain one-armed hyrrean and the clattering of the train's wheels against the rails. Letting a sigh escape her dry lips, she rested her head on the train windows, and went back to trying to scratch away the incessant itch on her forearms.

Damned train, damned weather, she cursed in her head. The past few days had been nothing but a bore for her. Ever since they left Lierris, nothing particularly noteworthy happened, save for that one time she slipped in some garlic into Nadrien's water canteen. That was hilarious and extremely well-deserved on the brunette's part. While Nadrien herself found that idea somewhat funny, Feal was not amused about the entire event. Thanks to that little shenanigan, Feal issued an order to prohibit garlic when a travel includes two or more yildean. Mira had found it quite a shame, but there was nothing she could do about it. He called the shots, after all.

Thinking of Feal and Nadrien made her wonder: where the hell were they? If anyone was awake, then it should be them. In spite of that, they were nowhere to be seen. Mira guessed that they were discussing some terms with the conductor. She hoped that it concerned the car's broken heater system because she was already half-frozen.

She stared out to the window, hoping to distract herself from her sleepless nights and shivers by admiring the landscape in the distance. The Mountains of Iria were always known to be so beautiful, even with its harsh weather conditions. Snow-capped peaks dotted the horizon. Although the cloudy skies obscured most of the stars from her view, she could make out the Radiant Lady on the distance, placing itself on the western sky. She never understood why they called it the Radiant Lady as it didn't even resemble a lady, but it was radiant. The brightest of all stars, as Nadrien had put it. Some yildeans even believed that it was actually the star mother Yildeza watching over them.

As if the gods themselves would give a damn on what happened on this continent, Mira thought with some cynicism. The gods don't care, they never bothered to care. They might even be dead.

"I'm glad that you're not asleep yet, or else I would have to drag you across the car."

The voice interrupted Mira's sightseeing. She looked backwards and saw a yildean woman with green eyes staring at her. A bang hung low in front of her forehead, almost obscuring the twinkle that danced in her eyes. That night, Nadrien was dressed in a vest over a long-sleeved, hemmed shirt- the typical yildean attire.

"Ah, Nadrien, my trusty comrade," Mira greeted her with a hint of sarcasm. "What do you want?"

"Feal asked you to meet him in the dining car." Nadrien plopped onto the cold, hard bench, sliding closer to Mira. She eyed the scratches on her hands and furrowed her brows. "You know, there are faster ways to give yourself an infection."


 "Are you implying that my hands are not clean?"

"Well, you've spent most of your days waddling around in taverns, surrounded by mice and other unpleasant beings."

"Fair enough." Mira stood up and brushed her coat. "What did Feal want?"

Nadrien shrugged. "He didn't mention it, as usual."

The half-aerhyan stood up and patted down the ruffles that had formed on her clothes, before beginning to lumber away from her seat. "I sure hope that you two are talking about this damned steel demon's broken heater. I'm as frozen as the women and children in the Last Blizzard."

The yildean cocked her head to the side. "Well, that's awfully cold of you," Nadrien replied. "An entire village of innocents dead, and you still joke about it."

"As if you don't joke about it yourself," Mira scoffed as she began her sluggish walk towards the train's head. "The dead can't get offended, Nad. Only cowards who want to feel self-righteous get offended over a simple jest."

Nadrien stood up and proceeded to follow Mira closely. "Did you just imply that I am a coward?"

"Oh yes I did," Mira answered in a tone laced with humor. "You got a problem with that?"

"Well... not in particular. You're correct in that part."

"Ooh, the cowardly Nadrien of the Third House is finally accepting a fact."

A sigh escaped Nadrien's pale, cracked lips as she shoved her claws into her pockets. "I cannot accept the self righteous part, however."

"That I agree," Mira said, with a firm nod of her head. "You have no honor nor sense of duty."

"Why are we suddenly insulting each other? I thought we're supposed to be allies and comrades," Nadrien demanded. Mira paused to turn around, a grin flashing across her features.

"We are allies and comrades. That's why we're insulting each other. No friends would spend their days complimenting each other."

The train gave a sudden lurch, causing the two girls to stumble. Instinctively, Mira reached out for something to latch onto for support, and her fingers found Nadrien's outstretched hand. For a moment, both were silent. Then, the two of them doubled over in laughter. A small warmth spread across Mira's veins.

The pair walked along the train for awhile before they eventually reached the dining car. Along the way they suffered from the train's uneven movements, causing Mira to stumble and trip around as if she was still in her drunken stupor. Her reactions managed to bring a certain amusement to her yildean friend, which she wisely ignored.

The dining car was a little bit warmer in comparison to the previous car, which was a fact which Mira found comforting, though not by a large margin. She spotted two yildeans sitting on a table; one of which she recognized as her dear friend, but the other could easily pass off as a drunken hyrrean in the streets of Lierris.

The second yildean has a bald head and a thick beard. His body was short and stout, which was quite a contrast to the usual lanky and lean yildeans. The longer Mira stared at him, the more she could see the numerous burn marks which dotted his face. The marks ranged from small, barely noticeable dots to a large patch of burned skin which covered the entirety of his left cheek. His lips curled into a wide smile, which made his face look more like a battle-hardened hyrrean than a yildean.

The scarred yildean seemed to be discussing something with her dear friend, though Mira herself had no guesses on what topic they were conversing about. She concluded that it was probably something quite important, even if the scarred man's face bore no indications on the subject's importance.

"Feal, you summoned me here?" Mira inquired, breaking the silent atmosphere of the dining car. "Whatever you're planning, I hope it's something to make this damned steel demon warmer."

Feal threw her a quick glance over his shoulder. "So, you're finally here Mira. I'm surprised that you're not asleep yet."

"Kinda hard to sleep when your hands itch as if a thousand lice are crawling on it, since it's freezing back there," Mira replied, taking a seat right next to Feal.

"Ah, apologies for that, young miss. I've been meaning to fix that heater for a long time, but you know how it is. Never seem to have the time for things like that these days," the stout yildean apologized in a raspy voice. A lopsided smile was still plastered onto his face. It was a common belief that smiling made one look more attractive, but Mira felt that the yildean's smile only served to make him look more grotesque.

"Ah, right, I haven't introduced myself to you, have I? The name's Boris, Boris of Blacktower. Loyal servant of the eight house and retainer to Lord Fealtanis." He said all that with a tinge of pride, which made Mira have no doubts the man was proud of his position.

"Call me Mira," she introduced with a smile, though she could imagine that her attempt at a smile failed due to the overwhelming cold. "I hope whatever matter you intend to discuss with me here doesn't bore me... or if you are planning to make it dull, at least make it boring enough so that I can finally sleep."

"Sir Boris here has a proposal for us concerning the old king's eldest daughter," Feal said as he leaned further back to his seat. He tapped the armrest of his chair with his crescent claw.

"Princess Adaria, you mean?" Mira asked as she readjusted her position to lean forwards towards the table. She wasn't too familiar with the yildean's royal court and she'd only heard snippets of it being told to her by Feal and Nadrien. Still, the subject did not particularly capture her interest. Judging from what little she'd heard of it, the yildean royal court seemed to be nothing more than a nest of vipers and rats in fancy crowns and dresses.

"Yes, numerous spies has reported that the princess is currently looking for a way to depose the old king and restore the eight house to the throne," Boris explained, bringing Mira's attention back to the matter at hand. She noticed that his smile was gradually fading from his face, replaced by something akin to a scowl. "It's just about time. That old fool has been on the throne for far too long."

Mira had never been one to sit idle and think about political issues, but she'd made an exception for this one. The matter of the yildean court was a particularly important one for Feal. Thus, she'd made it her business to get involved.

"I'm sorry, but allow me to speak frankly here," Mira interrupted. "What was the princess thinking? Did she not know the risks of what will happen should she staged a coup?"

She knew for the fact that King Illumaver was far from a good king- or even a king in general- but she never would have guessed that the reign of a single man would be enough to shatter a princess's perception of her own house and gamble away the future of her nation.

Boris simply laughed. "I'm pretty sure she's thinking to end her family's time on the throne, young miss. The Seventh House's reign has been far more disastrous than the reign of Syranis the Vacuous. Every decision that old king made has resulted in more and more public unrest."

"This proposal comes with a great opportunity for us, Mira," Feal added. His claws were casually carving out lines on the table, an act which Mira was sure that Boris wasn't happy with. "Should we carry out this act and remove the old king from the throne, then Adaria would reward us handsomely."

"If we fail, then we will get unmasked, chained, tried, and quite most likely executed," Mira justified, indignantly. "I'm so sorry but, are you so willing to trade away our life for some gold?"

"Well, our missions always come with risk, don't they?" Nadrien piped up, making her voice heard for the first time within the meeting. There was a tinge of humor inside her voice, a hint of light in the middle of the sour atmosphere. She cocked her head towards Mira with a grin. "Besides, didn't you always say you wanted to kill the old king yourself?"

"I want to- what?" Mira furrowed her brows, attempting to make sense of what Nadrien just said.

"I mean this entire time you're quite adamant on killing him so that you can finally get rid of me and my annoyingly helpful advice."

"Make no mistake, Nadrien, I'd kill just about anyone just to stop you from giving Feal any stupid solutions to sober me up. But we're talking about killing a king- we'd be remembered as kingslayers and give ourselves more enemies than we need to."

Boris joined in, laughing heartily. "Yes, but you will be welcomed by most of the Great Houses. You can take my word for it, young lady."

Mira pinched the bridge of her nose, showing her displeasure at his statement. "Last I checked, wasn't regicide the greatest crime there is?"

"Yes, it was, but with the support of so many houses, both great and minor, no one should be able to press their claims against us," Boris assured.

"Even concerning more religious manners?" Mira pressed, unsatisfied by his answers. "What would the high priests or priestesses say about this matter?"

"Well, Mira..." Nadrien casually leaned onto Mira, resting her arm on her shoulder. "Let's just say that there is a good reason to why religion was never granted a position in the grand council."

Mira stared incredulously at Feal, waiting for his answer as she wasn't too familiar with the traditions of the yildean houses. She knew of their basic taboos and history thanks to her friends, but she did not know full details on it. At any rate, she trusted Feal. Among all the members of the Scarlet Masks, he was the only one she could trust to not lead them to ruin. Whatever decision he chose, Mira had decided that she would support him.

The more she looked at him, the more she realized that the long travels and busy days had taken a toll on him. She only just noticed the dark shadows that pronounced themselves underneath his eyes, as well as the way he seemed to sag against his seat. He barely even spoke a sentence, which Mira found rather odd. He would usually handle most of the Masks' contracts by himself. Something tugged at Mira's chest as she thought about his position. She could only begin to imagine how difficult it was to be both an heir to a house which has been driven to the mud and a leader of the continent's most feared assassins.

Feal cleared his throat. "Well, let us take a look at both sides, shall we?" Feal offered as he turned his gaze towards Boris, though his pupils seemed to be directed at the point behind the man than the man himself. "If we take this deal, then I can assure you that most of the houses will show their support: the Eighths, Adaria's loyalists in the Sevenths. I'm pretty sure that the Fourth House will gladly back us, but..."

His words trailed off towards the end as his gaze seemed to bounce around the car in a wary manner. Mira could see his chest heaving restlessly, rising and falling in a sporadic manner. When her stormy eyes finally met his, she saw uncertainty and confusion. It didn't take long for Mira to connect the dots and figure out what was actually happening to him.

It more than just fatigue- it was a silent plea for help.

"But...?" Boris prompted, causing both Mira and Feal to turn their heads towards him. His claws were lazily scratching his neck. "Sorry, my lord, but you..."

Feal hastily rubbed his eyes with the back of his pallid palm. "I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to blank out there," Feal apologized, his voice raw. He cleared his throat. "But, we are also at the risk of throwing away our alliances with the Third, Seventh, and Second house."

The group sat in silence after that. No one said a word- not even Nadrien gave a cheeky remark on the entire matter. Mira said nothing, and she let the silence drag on as the snowstorm finally lifts itself, letting the gentle moonlight sprinkle it's way through the window. She could almost hear the beating of her heart, which had grown uneasy the more she looked at Feal. He couldn't continue like this.

Mira opened her mouth with the intent of putting an end to the meeting, but Feal beat her to it. "Well, if you all are going to commit yourself to silence, there are more comfortable places to do that," he said in a hollow voice. He put a hand over his eyes.

"All of you are dismissed, except for Mira."

Quietly, Boris and Nadrien made their way towards the back of the car. The moment the two exited, a chilly stillness settled over the car, save for the occasional clanks of the train cars against the rails.

"So... it has started happening again, I presume?" Mira asked Feal, breaking the silence.

"Well, you've seen the signs. What do you think?" Feal replied. Mira had the feeling that he was attempting to show some sarcasm in his voice, but his sentence came out as more of a whine.

This rare vulnerability he was showing... It hurt Mira almost as much as it was hurting him. She wanted so badly to help him, to stop whatever it was that was torturing him, yet all she could do was put a comforting arm around his shoulders and share her warmth. It almost infuriated her at how useless she was, but she forced a gentle smile to form on her pale lips.

"Do... do you want to talk to me about it?" she offered, softly.

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Chapter Writer: Fiona_jessie

AN: Trains sure derail Mira's plans on catching a good night's sleep. Anyways, please leave your feedback and any criticisms you might have- it'll help us stay on track. (Sorry not sorry for the puns)