Auberon was surprised to find the interior of the train was connected through to the end in both directions. He would be able to pass freely between cars and it was surprisingly spacious.

It was also filled with Outworlders. Some were sitting and some were standing. Some were old and others young. They all wore a colorful assortment of clothing that he’d already noticed. The number of dyes used to create such rich colors in fabric had to be of great expense. The King himself would be hard-pressed to afford such clothing, and yet it was everywhere.

As he walked through the interior toward the front of the train, he heard a chime and the doors to the outside of the train closed. Suddenly, it started moving. The movement caught Auberon unaware and he stumbled for a moment, but caught himself.

Some Outworlders looked at him, but after a moment looked away in disinterest. Auberon held on to the metal bars coming from the ceiling and used them to keep his balance while he continued to move through the train.

The Outworlders continued to ignore him. He was okay with that.

He saw many of them staring intently at the small tablets of black glass much like the one he’d taken as a trophy before… before he lost everything he had, save for his necklace. They interacted with them in a myriad of ways that Auberon couldn’t make sense of, much like everything else in Outworld. Some of the tablets made noise and had bright moving images while others were used to enter symbols.

Regardless, they had the attention of most people in the train. There were some children there as well, standing upon the seats and speaking to whom he assumed were their parents, making noises typical of children on Ayndir.

Outside, the tops of trees and houses whipped past at speeds that rivaled Vetschze at his quickest, and yet could carry so many. It felt surprisingly like flying, except for the lack of wind.

Below, streets flowed by as Auberon found a seat near the front of the train next to the window. He looked out as it moved through the Outworlder’s city. He was certain that in his short time riding the train, he’d covered as much ground as he did getting to it. If he had his bearings right on the map he’d seen, it would cut his journey by as much as a day.

But he still needed to make his way to the bridge he’d seen. And despite the fact that he was ignored, there was still the risk of discovery. If the Outworlders knew he’d survived, they’d be on the lookout for him.

He noticed a girl walk past him and pull out papers from a small holder on the side of the train. Nobody seemed to care that she did so. Auberon noticed it was a small book. As the girl walked away, he too reached out and plucked another book out.

On the cover was an image of one of the long vehicles that ran along the streets. There was writing on it-- not that Auberon could read it. He was no scribe in Embrayya, but he’d learned his letters and knew how to sign his name. He might have been able to sound-out words written in Embrayyan, but this wasn’t Embrayya.

He opened the book to find… lists. At least, he assumed them to be lists. They were uniform, running down the page. Below each was what appeared to be a map with a blue line running through it.

The routes! They had to be the routes taken by the individual vehicles. He flipped through the pages. There must have been dozens.

He finally settled on the center page of the book, and found exactly what it was he needed. A large map of the area which showed a route similar to the one he’d seen on the map before getting on to the train.

Suddenly, a voice came from the train itself, momentarily causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up. He still wasn’t used to that-- disembodied voices that came from machines. He didn’t know what it said, but then the train chimed and Auberon looked up to see they were approaching another passenger platform, this time level with the ground.

The doors opened, without prompting from anyone, and people poured in and out.

Then another chime, and they closed again as the train started to move.

Auberon looked back to the map. There were nodes connecting what he assumed were the route-lines on the page. He followed it through until he found the one he believed he had first boarded the train at. He then followed as it twisted northward and reached another.

The line should take him nearly to the edge of the water. He counted up the stops remaining. If he was correct, the final destination was a mere twelve stops away.

He estimated it to be a full day’s travel by foot. But on the train, mere minutes. He wasn’t sure even Vetzsche could move that fast.

He carefully closed the book of maps and placed it into his bag. It would be useful to him once he got his bearings.

When he looked back out the window, he found the train had elevated once more, and he watched in wonder as the city zipped by beneath him. He remembered looking down at it when he first arrived in Outworld and looking in wonder at the size of it with Rost and Rustram at his flanks. He spared another thought for Vetzsche before realizing that he had understated his original assessment of the size of the Outworlder city. If not for the ice-capped mountains in the distance, he might have thought all of Outworld was one great city.

He thought, darkly, that the one city alone might outnumber the entire population of Embrayya.

After the next stop, he noticed a distinct change in the style of buildings that passed by beneath them. They became larger, like the buildings near their forward camp. Warehouses and workhouses, perhaps?

And then he saw the silver towers.

In reality, he’d spotted them at a distance while in the sky the day before, but seeing them up close made him truly realize the scale of the constructions. They reached high into the sky. So high, that Auberon had to press his face against the train’s window to glimpse the top. It easily made the tallest towers in Embrayya, and he suspected they were even taller than the fabled towers of Dashram across the Western Sea.

The train stopped there, too, and more people got on than got off. So many people, in fact, that an old woman claimed the seat next to him.

Auberon felt closed in, nervous being in such a crowded space with Outworlders. Any of them could slip a blade between his ribs without him even seeing.

But none did. He opted instead to stare out the window, avoiding looking at them, and watched the city go by.

More stops came, and more buildings flowed by. Some were small, others tall. One, he found, was surprisingly shaped like a ball.

If that wasn’t strange enough, what he saw next made his jaw drop.

The silver towers were modest compared to the size of buildings he was looking at. And there had to be a hundred of them. Some were capped with bright teal-green and ornate roots. Others were flat. At least one had a disc balanced on its top.

They pulled into another stop, and the crowd thinned out a bit.

But when the train started moving again, he noticed they weren’t rising above the city anymore.

They were going underground.

Auberon felt a stab of anxiety as the train entered a deep tunnel. He looked around at the Outworlders. None of them seemed concerned, but Auberon didn’t do well with the idea of being underground. He was born for the sky, not the world beneath. That was the realm of the Dai’ani.

And he still couldn’t discount the idea that Outworld was host to all manner of demons.

Another stop came. The last stop before the end of the line.

Would he be forced to disembark underground? The maps would be no good there.

Finally, the final stop came, and to Auberon’s relief, he was right about it. All of the Outworlders disembarked the train with him, and for once, he felt thankful for them. They would be able to lead him out.

He followed them toward a set of stairs leading upward and through a long hallway. They came to another flight of stairs-- and Naia’s Tits, they moved! Moving stairs? His mind reeled at that, and he’d just come out of a carriage train being pulled by some force Auberon couldn’t even hope to identify or understand.

Nonetheless, he followed them up, holding on to the railing that moved with the stairs until it brought him to the top.

The room he reached was obviously above the surface, Auberon was pleased to discover. It had high, ornate ceilings held up by pillars across the room. There were so many Outworlders. More than he’d seen crowded into the trains. They came and went, going many different directions. In the center of the room appeared to be a shop of some fashion, but he couldn’t rightly identify any of the wares being sold. Not that he had Outworlder money anyway.

To his right, he could see an open street. It was as busy out there as it was inside. The smell of cooking meat, bread, coffee and other great scents wafted through the room. He walked to the window and peered outside.

People and vehicles passed by outside. Tall buildings surrounded the area, blocking out the afternoon sun. He noted what appeared to be beggars sitting down along the sidewalk, some with small collection plates for coins.

Two of them were fat. Auberon found that confusing. He’d met many beggars in his lifetime, but never a fat one. Come to think of it, he had noticed that a great many Outworlders were fat. Now, at least, he understood it.

In Outworld, even beggars could eat.

It was a strange concept for him to grasp.

On the other end of the room was another long hallway that appeared to lead outside, but there were less people there and more light seemed to flow through the windows at the end. He made his way there, and pushed the glass door open.

Yes! He was in a wide flat area-- not a street. It was another lot to put their vehicles when not being used with the yellow-painted lines everywhere. But more importantly, he could see a clear view of the mountains. He was much closer to them now, and could make out details. The vast city seemed to stretch to its base, and some construction could be seen partway up the mountain, but it was enough wilderness to hide in.

He just needed to figure out how to get there. He referred to the map he’d found in the train again. From where he was, it appeared there was a bridge that spanned between the end of a peninsula to the northern coast on the other side of the water.

He soon realized it was ocean air he was breathing. If not for the strange array of unidentifiable scents he might have thought he were breathing along the southern coast of Embrayya.

He pulled out the map booklet from his bag and turned to the page with the wider map of the region. If he was correct, he was facing north. That meant by heading west, he would be able to follow them to the bridge.

He looked up over the building he’d come out. He felt tiny compared to the tall buildings erected all around him. It was an impossible sight by any stretch of his imagination, and yet there he was. He felt as though they were too large to be real, and threatened to fall atop of him at any point.

But the Outworlders, as far as he could tell, had no such worry. Many looked down to their tablets. Others looked straight forward. The beggars scanned each passerby.

None looked up in fear the buildings might crumble under their own weight.

He steeled himself for the journey, and then made his way out to the street. He followed the path shoulder-to-shoulder with many Outworlders. None paid him any heed.

As he traveled by foot, he found himself relieved that not only were the buildings becoming shorter, but the population of Outworlders began to thin out. Eventually, the buildings seemed to stop, and as Auberon passed beneath a bridge, his eyes were greeted by the sight of a forest.

Truth told, he was surprised to see a forest so close to the city-- and relieved. The road traveled by the vehicles did not pause, it rather led right through the forest. Auberon suspected it would lead him to the bridge.

The walkways split off into multiple directions, toward hills lined with trees, yet with finely manicured grass. Another split off and seemed to follow the coastline, and others still led every which way-- including through the woods. Outworlders were running-- not quickly, not in fear, but at a steadily quick pace, while others zipped past them balanced on two-wheeled contraptions that made no noise. Some even had wheels on their feet. A set of two whipped past Auberon as he walked, and he could only look at them in fascination.

He followed the path that led along the coast for a time, passing a dock where many boats were moored toward a wooden building that seemed to be built upon a dock itself, propped up in the water by thick load-bearing wooden columns.

There were too many Outworlders there-- he needed to venture deeper into the forest. He eventually found a spot where he could cut across a grassy field toward the treeline. There were a number of trodden paths running through them.

Too many, in fact. They seemed to cross over with each other without any sense of direction. Occasionally he would come across a small building, but rarely was he beyond the sight of an Outworlder. He traveled those paths for what seemed to be hours, oftentimes ending up where he hadn’t wanted to be.

His gnawing frustration was growing with each wrong turn and fork in the road.

He eventually found another map posted near one of the buildings, this one seemed to show the various trail lines. He quickly identified where he was, then memorized the turns he would have to make to end up near the bridge.

To his relief, the number of Outworlders began to thin out the further along the trail he got to the bridge. He was finally making progress. He arrived at a roadway meant for their strange vehicles and crossed it to walk along a solid stone pathway. If he was right, that road would intersect with the one needed to cross the bridge.

He only hoped the woods up the mountains were not like the ones he was in.

Finally, he came to a point where the trees parted, and looked in wonder at the bridge he’d been traveling to all day.

It was green.

It was long.

And it was high.

It would take him into another city.

His heart fell. He could see buildings climbing up the side of the mountain, he could see structures on the top of it. It would likely take him another half-day on foot to reach the top, and what then? More city?

He shook the idea out of his head. No. He’d already come so far, risking even the train and walking unmolested through the city. Unfortunately, he couldn’t be certain he would reach the mountains by nightfall, and he wasn’t about to risk breaking into another home to sleep.

The woods he was in were too busy to stay too long. But they would suffice for the night, if he could find a place private enough.

He looked once more to the bridge, then continued down the road in search of a place he could camp for the night.