A train whooshed into the station, reeling as it braked to a stop. The doors opened, and the conductor announced that they would be taking a short break before departing for the next station.
The last time Hans was on a train, he had been riding it involuntarily. That train’s next station had been one fraught with conflict and near-death encounters.
But as the conductor announced that the train would depart soon, Hans was finally ready to see the train’s next destination willingly. Five years as a stationmaster and he had never once explored past Brumont. That was all about to change.
Hans looked to his left. Jasmine was standing next to him, even more excited than he was. They were going to explore wherever the train would take them together.
“It’s nice seeing you out like this, Hans,” Jasmine said, turning to him.
“I know.” Hans took a deep breath. “I know.”
After being teleported out of Charthosk, Hans had been plopped back on the Brumont train platform. Though his breathing had restabilized, his ribs still hurt from being pierced by his grandfather’s branch. So he limped home as fast as he could. As soon as he reached his bed, he immediately collapsed asleep. Charthosk had been too much for this body.
Upon waking up, Hans learned just how powerful his grandfather’s healing magic was. Though scars remained from his injuries, there was no pain. He was glad he had recovered so quickly.
Hans learned that nobody at Brumont ever realized he or Jasmine were gone. Percival, Lucan, and Emrys had probably used some form of concealing magic to make everyone who had been at the train station unaware that Hans was being kidnapped, leaving them confused as to why the stationmaster was taking a vacation without a substitute.
Hans and Jasmine had also been in Charthosk for such a short period of time that nobody had become suspicious. At the very least, this allowed Hans to forget about what happened. He was home, confident he would never go back.
But he realized in the following days that there was no way to forget what happened at Charthosk. He tried to enjoy the monotony of life again. He continued with his stationmaster job, watching the trains come into the station on their constant schedule. And as soon as he came home, he trimmed bonsai trees to perfection. But Hans was thinking the whole time.
He thought while he sat in his little stationmaster cabin. He thought while he looked around at the trinkets he had on his shelves—his favorite bonsai tree, the yet-unopened candle from his mother, the massive timetable that had once told him train times, the space missing its pot of magical heathers. He thought while he trimmed bonsai trees, which severely cut down the efficiency he had built up over the years. He thought while he walked home and while he walked to work.
Two people had told Hans to consider exploring the world outside of his minimalistic life. And Hans now wanted to try it, too. He had seen the beauty of Charthosk--the scenery, the animals, and the festivity of Charthosk’s factions. Earth was probably just as beautiful, too.
But Hans couldn’t confirm Earth’s beauty. It now saddened him that he didn’t have any such stories or memories. He no longer felt fulfilled doing the same thing over and over. He yearned for something more.
His yearning brought him to Jasmine’s door. Hans hesitated before knocking, mentally calculating whether this was really what he wanted. He took a deep breath and tapped his knuckles three times on the birch door.
“Coming!” Jasmine called.
Hans waited a few minutes. Each minute increased his desire to run away. But he stayed in place—he had made himself a promise. Eventually, Jasmine opened the door. She had purple hair rollers in her hair and a pink bathrobe around her body. Her hair smelled slightly of honey. Jasmine looked Hans up and down.
“Well, Hans Eindride. I wasn’t expecting to see you here. What brings you to my door?” Jasmine asked.
“So, I was thinking…” Hans trailed off.
“Uh-huh,” Jasmine encouraged.
“I’d like you to come with me somewhere outside of Brumont.”
“Wait. Hans. You did not just say that.”
“I believe that I did,” Hans said.
Jasmine ran up to Hans and hugged him. He hadn’t expected a hug from her. He didn’t get a chance to react before Jasmine ran back inside, shouting, “Give me just a few minutes.”
As she entered her house, she slammed the door in Hans’ face. He stared at the door, startled for a second. Then, a big grin appeared on his face. He breathed in the fresh Brumont air, filling every single cell in his body with oxygen. His breath out left him a deflated balloon. Hans made sure all the Charthoskian air was out of his system. This was his triumphant celebration.
Hans and Jasmine chose to go to a town near Brumont called Tuskenvale. The town wasn’t any less dull than Brumont—there wasn’t much interesting to do in the region Hans lived in. But it was a start. They would see what Tuskenvale was like. They had dared each other to find some way to enjoy Tuskenvale.
Then, another day in the future, they would explore further places. More exciting places. Like the ones Percival, Lucan, and Emrys had hung up on their walls.
Hans now stood before the train that would take him on his journey outside of Brumont. To him, there was nothing out of the ordinary about this train. All he knew was that it would bring him safely to Tuskenvale. But assumptions are often dangerous. After all, the train of time now stood at its destination.
The train of time forever carries sins and blunders. Like predatory passengers, they sit in neat rows, awaiting the train of time’s arrival at its next stop. They patiently bide their time, ready to remind the next passenger of all their vices.
But the train of time isn’t evil. It is simply a vessel of a person’s life. In its reign over that human, the train of time carries their dreams. Behind its perfect timetable, the train of time carries their memories. Memories of sins and blunders. But also memories of happiness and satisfaction. Where the person decides to sit defines how they see their past.
When Hans stepped on the train before him, with Jasmine following close behind, he was a passenger to Tuskenvale, ready to explore an unknown location. What he was oblivious to was that he had boarded the train of time. But he did not sit in the packed cabins of sins and blunders. He did not sit in the cabins of warm and welcome memories. He walked firmly to the conductor’s spot and took command of the powerful locomotive. After all, Hans was free.
THE END