The sun hangs high in the partly cloudy lavender sky as we take the national rail to Sectary City.
This tram's not so bad either. It covers way more ground than the aquarail, let alone my top airspeed. So much faster than I can fly, and for so long… maybe I haven't been giving alternative transportation the credit it deserves. Except for boats. I really am sick of water stuff.
The tickets were five darmas a person to Sectary City, which is apparently a really good deal. I mean, it includes in-ride refreshments, so I guess I can't complain.
The seats are cushy, too. Marc is fast asleep next to me. I was wondering if he'd lean on my shoulder like in that one romcom I saw Verni watching, but he's perfectly upright. Not like I'm missing much. Um, maybe.
An attendant walks up to me. "Anything you'd like? Drinks and snacks are complimentary," he inquires.
"More bitter hot leaf juice, please," I reply with my politest voice. "Extra steamy."
"Of course." He pours hot golden liquid into an insulated cup. "Ahem, not that you're wrong, but it's called tea."
"Pretty good either way," I shrug, taking a swig. The attendant flinches. "Yeah, that hits the spot," I sigh, steam rising from my mouth and nose. The attendant quickly moves on, even though I was going to order something else. Maybe later, I guess.
"Yoohoo! This one's for you," Vernicia calls as she walks up to my seat, both hands loaded with shopping bags.
"So you did go stealth shopping again," I say.
"Nah, this time it was proper shopping. I'll always drop money on clothes." She hands me a parcel. "Did you know it's snowing in Sectary City right now? Dia and I picked out this stuff at the station. Try it on."
"Oh. Thanks." I open it. There's a white sweater, a puffy yellow vest, cargo pants, and combat boots inside. It looks like Verni already made the modifications to the back of the sweater… did she pick it up from Larry at some point? "Not bad. No notes," I remark.
"Wear it, then! I wanna see Marc's reaction," she implores.
"Huh? Er, sure."
I have to admit, Verni does have a good grasp on my taste in fashion. Though I guess that's to be expected. We did grow up together, after all.
I walk over to my and Marc's row. "Yo, Marc," I say, then notice he's still asleep.
Maybe I'll teach him how to power nap later… meh, whatever. I walk back to the others.
By now all my comrades have changed their attire.
"Um, Verni." I point at her. "What's that blanket thing you're wearing?"
"Heresy! How have you not heard of a poncho?" Vernicia sounds dismayed. Under it, she's wearing a thick-looking skirt and tall boots, along with a snow hat on her head.
"I thought ponchos had hoods," I mutter.
"Parkas have hoods," Diantha corrects. She's sporting a stylish overcoat and a fluffy grey skirt.
"What's a… um… never mind," I mutter. "Where are Ru and Angie?"
"In the back rec room," Hal says. He's sitting next to Diantha, looking basically the same.
"Not gonna change into your winter wear?" I ask.
"This is my winter wear. I got long johns and sleeves," he replies.
Vernicia rolls her eyes. "Typical fire-type. I bet the cold doesn't bother you either."
"It can, actually. Ice damage incapacitates a fireman as easily as electric damage can an aeronaut," Hal says. "But for weather like this, I can just use my flames to warm my upper body. I'm pretty sure firemen have higher body heat too, probably. If not though, it won't really make a difference on account of our fire."
"I bet you could rock a poncho too," Dia figures.
"Me? Nah, they seem restrictive," Hal replies. "And in your case Verni, how are you gonna fly with it covering your wings? I feel like sewing in holes would ruin the vibe."
Vernicia narrows her eyes at him.
"You seriously didn't consider that?" Diantha sounds intrigued.
Vernicia sighs. "I did… but… look at the colors, this lining! It's too pretty, isn't it?! I did it for the sake of fashion, and I'll do it again, dammit!!"
"H-hey, no one's judging you for your choices," I tell her.
"I am." Hal crosses his arms.
"Well, scuff you too," Verni grumbles.
The intercom politely rings. "All passengers, please remain seated as we enter Sectary City. Thank you for riding the National Rail."
"Hey, we made it," I say, plopping down next to Diantha.
"We'll know soon enough if this was a good idea," she resolves.
As we step off onto the platform, a sign lights up above us, reading WELCOME TO THE MOUNTAIN OF LIGHTS – SECTARY CITY, BAYONALIN.
More signs point the way towards districts of varying colors– green, yellow, orange, red, blue. Just how big is this place, really?
"Right… Sectary City," Marc mutters. He's wearing a leather jacket and gloves along with warm pants and running shoes. "What even is out here? This is a completely different province."
"Is it?" I try to remember the name of the lowlands province… Steralin, right?
As the seven of us exit the smallish station, a cold breeze blows white stuff onto us.
"Ugh! What the…?" I try to wipe it off, but it sticks to my hands and melts, sucking all the heat from it. "Gah! Marc, get it off!"
"What?" Marc is checking a directory. "It's just snow. A bit wet, but not too bad."
"The hell are you talking about?" I rub my arms and accidentally melt snow into my sleeves, chilling me further. "Urgh! How can anyone stand this… Marc, can you stand this? I hate this."
"What's with the complaining? Doesn't it get super cold in the badlands?"
"That's different! Snow isn't ice, is it? It doesn't look like ice."
"It's ice," Marc confirms. "You flew through storm clouds during weather resistance training, didn't you?"
"Also different! Badlands ice just sort of blasts me in the face and burns my skin and rimes up my hair. Then it all melts the second it gets hot."
Marc nods sagely. "Ah, right. You've never experienced a proper winter."
"Don't act like you know!" I squeeze my arms, trying to block out the snow that keeps blowing onto me. "Brrrgh! It's so cold and sticky and… gross-feeling! Friccing insidious," I growl.
I look over at my comrades. Rurin and Angelina look similarly miserable, but Diantha and Vernicia seem like they're enjoying it. The snow hat Verni is wearing is handily keeping the stuff off her head. And of course Hal doesn't appear bothered either.
"That's it," Rurin puffs. "I'm finding us a place to thaw. This sucks."
"Oh! make it one big room," Vernicia suggests.
"Blankets," Angelina says.
"We can get blankies anywhere. Think bigger," Diantha tells her.
"Mmmm… weighted blankets."
"Any more requests?" Rurin walks to a covered directory kiosk, and the rest of my comrades and Hal crowd around him. I'll leave them to that, I suppose. But I kind of want to scout around some more. If only this snow wasn't such a pain…
"We can get umbrellas if you need," Marc suggests. "Though, hmm… the wind's a bit strong."
"Not helping," I mutter. The two of us continue walking down the snowswept walkway, surrounded on all sides by frost-lined buildings. Honestly, if you ignore how it feels, Sectary City looks quite nice. Less cramped-feeling than Chandonis, but somehow the buildings are taller. Judging from the occasional double-take from passers-by, though, perhaps I'll still keep my guard up.
A tall, somewhat bulky passerby suddenly stops and looks at us. Then he walks over to where we are. "Uhm," he begins, raising a hand.
"This snow is annoying, isn't it?" I turn to him, indignant. "How can you people endure this environment, let alone build a city here?"
"Er…" He looks away for a second. "Oh. There's a hobby shop down the street that sells warming pads. It's, ah, super useful this time of year."
"Oh yeah? What's it called?"
The man looks away again. Is he listening to something?
"Brokenfin," the man suddenly says. "It's just that way; you can't miss it. The name's Fred, by the way. See ya!"
As Fred leaves, Marc leans down to me. "I picked up on his thoughts. Man has no idea who we are," he whispers, "but was instructed to approach us anyway."
"What? Weird," I mutter. "Some kinda spy, maybe?"
"He isn't coming back. I think we're in the clear for now," Marc says.
"Really… meh, whatever," I shrug. "Let's see about this hobby shop, yeah?"
Fortunately, Fred's info is correct. Brokenfin has a bunch of other goods too, for all seasons. They even have wetsuits! No skysuits, though. The clerk looks confused when I ask about it.
The hot pads warm my core nicely, and the heated gloves I also bought are enough to keep my hands from going numb.
I tap on my gauntlet and get Rurin's comm. "Where'd you guys end up going?" I ask.
"A hotel in the central district. You guys ARE still in the central district, right?"
"Uh… I think so," I reply, looking at Marc. He nods.
"Anyway, it's called Bearwater Inn," Rurin continues. "I got the connected double suite on the top floor. Um, 220 and 221. Either one."
"Got it." I end the call.
"How'd you connect your gauntlet to our comms, anyway?" Marc wonders as we continue walking.
"What do you mean? All our comms are connected," I reply.
"True, but – wait, no," Marc replies. "You had those way before we got our current comms!"
"Yeah? I mean, I haven't had any issues."
"What…?" Marc scratches his head.
Turns out Bearwater Inn isn't too far from where we were. Inside the double suite, the rest of the team is relaxing on the beds. Vernicia and Rurin are sifting through a bag of winter fruits.
"Heh. Some people are the same no matter where you go," Verni is saying. "No wonder Joseph insisted we learn how to haggle."
I plop down next to them. "You actually did those lessons?"
"I did 'em, too," Rurin chimes in, cutting open a crapple. "I'd like to think it came in handy."
"U-um, right. Of course," I mutter. I guess haggling is useful, after all? News to me. I only remembered some researchers saying to just throw more money at their problems.
Vernicia notices me sinking down. "Wanna share a bed?" She asks.
I quickly jerk upright, then slide onto the floor. "No way. I can't with beds, they're too dangerous," I reply. "Can't afford to let my guard down right now."
"What? It's not gonna eat you." Verni looks confused.
"It's good to have some vigilance," Marc tells her.
I lay down on the floor, feeling its texture on my wings. Not too soft this time. This'll do nicely.
Vernicia shrugs. "Suit yourself."
Running diagnostics. Current altitude, 2300 meters. Wait, but I'm on the ground. Adjusting. An error has occurred. Is this what it's like to live in the mountains? Adjusting. An error has occurred. Current altitude, 2300 meters. Oh, forget it. I'll just scout around some more… I have to get out of here.
Now ethereal, I slowly rise above the inn. Sectary City is aglow with nighttime lights of many different colors, spanning as far as I can see in every direction. Even though it's almost midnight… hmm, but isn't Chandonis the same way? Albeit with fog obscuring everything. Maybe it's just a big city thing.
I head down the street, going nowhere in particular. As I float through a random person and give them chills, I notice that the street lights are now greenish in hue. The green district?
The buildings here are shorter than in the central district. Fewer people are out and about as well.
Soon I end up in the yellow district after drifting through a few buildings. There are more people here, though not as many as the central district.
I wonder if these guys are nocturnal. They have to be, right? What other explanation is there? I mean, sure, aeronauts can go for days without sleep, but we were designed to do that…
The red district isn't too crowded either, but a lot of the buildings have lights and noise going on inside. More nocturnal people? What do they do during the day?
As I drift through the orange district, my mind drifts as well.
I suppose humans didn't become the dominant species for no reason. They're leagues smarter than most other creatures in the world, for starters – maybe smarter than me? Humans created us, after all. And… I still haven't figured out whether or not aeronauts are human. Does it even matter?
Near the edge of the orange district, I notice one bigger person walking down the way. He reminds me of Fred from this angle. Is it Fred? I drift closer.
The man glances around. He's bald and wider than Fred, with much darker skin—
JIM?! It's Jim Hanks!
(What the…?) I can hardly believe it. (Jim! What the hell are you doing here? Jim! Argh, how do I unveil myself? Jim!)
I follow behind him, trying and failing to get his attention. Soon he enters a smallish hole-in-the-wall right on the border of the orange and blue districts. The sign over it reads Sidewinder Pub.
(An earthmover and a ghost walk into a bar,) I say as I follow him in. (One ordered his drink on the rocks, and the other ordered spirits.)
My vision begins to waver. (Oops. Out of time…) I look around, trying to memorize this location. (I wonder if possessing someone can extend my timer… can I even do that? Can Macy?)
WHFF!
My eyes open. It's still nighttime, for some reason. Why didn't I…?
"There she goes. Her soul's re-entry was successful," Hal says. "Told you it was a thing."
"But that means… she's been able to do this from the start," Marc murmurs, sounding dismayed. "Why didn't she tell me?"
"Why would I?" I reply.
"WAH!" Startled, they both jump back, then trip over each other and land on Diantha who was sleeping on the floor a meter away.
"Oof! What the hell? It's still the middle of the night," Diantha grunts, pushing them off. "What are you guys doing?"
"Er, um. I wasn't watching Kit while she slept," Marc stammers.
"I was," Hal says.
Diantha's iceblade flashes to life, casting a dim, pale glow over her face. "All right, creeps… If you did anything weird to her, I'll make cold cuts of you both."
"No, you've got it all wrong, I would never," Marc protests.
"If anyone, it's Kit who was acting weird," Hal states. "Her ghost just up and left her body for like half an hour."
"Huh?" Dia looks perturbed. "What did you do?! Is she dead?"
"No! We did nothing, I swear," Marc tells her.
"It's all Marc's fault, actually. He told me all about this thing he did to her a while ago," Hal explains.
"Oh?" Dia's pupils glint red as she focuses on Marc.
"N-no! Hal, quit blabbing! It's not what it sounds like," Marc insists.
I calmly twine my fingers, still lying down. Will she actually do it? It'd be funny if she did.
"Come on, Kit, help me out," he pleads. "I know she's going to do it! She's deciding which vital point to aim for as I speak!"
Diantha looks over at me. "Is Kit awake?"
"Heh heh, yeah." I sit up. "That was pretty funny to watch."
Marc heaves a relieved sigh. "Glad to hear that."
I roll my eyes. I doubt an iceblade strike or two can kill him that easily.
"I feel like you're overestimating me a bit," he mutters.
"Might as well tell you guys what I found out," I decide. "I know where to look for Jim."
"Really? How do you know Angie's uncle?" Dia asks.
"It's kind of a long story, but he's usually got a lot of good information," I answer. "Maybe he knows something about Cryos."
"How do you know where he is?" Diantha shifts forward, now curious.
"I told you, her ghost left her body," Hal says. "Actually, did I ever tell you guys I can see that kind of stuff? Like ghosts and spirits and faeries. Master Lee called it clairvoyance. My parents could probably do it, too, but I've only ever seen their ghosts, so I can't really confirm that."
"I bet your parents were rich, too," I muse. "What were they like in life?"
Hal shrugs. "You're the ones with the laptop of secrets."
"I was talking about their ghosts," I retort. "Can't you talk to them too?"
"Well, only if they're strong enough," Hal answers. "You see, the state of ghosts depends on their… strength, I think. Most of the ghosts I see are wispy and weak. Like, they're restless, but they don't remember why. My parents are like that, so I got basically nothing out of them. Stronger ghosts are much rarer. They're not only capable of talking, but they usually won't shut up about whatever their attachment is. Let me tell ya, this one time—"
"Ugh, Hal! Why are you still up?" Vernicia sounds annoyed.
"Oh. Sorry. I'll, ah, go to sleep now," Hal says, walking to his bed. "Good night."
I lay back down. "Yeah, there's always tomorrow."