Over the course of the month leading up to the correct moon phase, Vortex and Nebula scout out the train’s routes. They are able to pinpoint key locations in which the train makes contact with the ground. Axle notes that the caboose has the moon gate at its entrance. Finally, the night arrives. A half-moon shines vividly. Vortex, Nebula, and Axle emerge from the cabin. Nebula has a map of Ethereo in her hands- various locations had been marked with an “x” on where the train had been either spotted, stationed, or landed. The closest spot to the sighting is behind the tablet lake, a few hilly spots upwards. There is a forgotten train tunnel near the base of the large mountain that is the scenic backdrop for the Beastial Sanctuary. That is where they originally encountered the Great Achilles. It spirals around the uneven, dangerously thin pathways, then takes off into the dark skies. The whistle at the front ominously hisses, resembling the sound of Priestess’s howl with a sinister twist. Vortex grips onto Axle’s handle tighter, trying to find comfort in them.
“You ready?” Vortex asks Nebula.
“Yeah,” Nebula simply responds. “You said we have six hours to catch up, right? All we need is one good shot in the back and we’ll make our way through the cabins.” They make their way off the porch and start traveling through the dense forest to reach Garriz’s forge. The minotaur had requested they pass by his place before they headed off to catch the train.
“By the way… they don’t really look like cabins to me,” Nebula comments. “We live in a cabin, right? Why do they call trains cabins?”
“Uhh…” Vortex has no clue why that is. “My best guess is that they needed the trains to sound luxurious, so they called them cabins to better sell the travel…?” She offers. The werewolf makes a mental note that, when they have some free time after this, she’ll ask Priestess to access her magical library for the answer.
“Strange to see you stumped for once,” Axle hums from their blade. “Surprised you don’t know even in your vast knowledge about the world for such a young human.” Vortex mentally communicates back, ‘I’m fifteen! I like to know everything I can so I don’t look like an idiot.’ She hears what can only be described as a metal vibration- like if Axle were trying to chuckle. “A wise old soul to take that road,” they say. “Now, focus. Garriz needs you at the forge- we better speed things up.”
Soon, they arrive at the front of the training grounds. Up ahead in the somewhat old but not quite old old house, Garriz paces about at the front of his porch. His giant, well-cared for black hooves click and clack on the material, waiting for the three. Vortex howls to signal their arrival. His head flicks up to the direction, and waves them down. The werewolf and siren close the gap, jogging and larreting respectively. “We’re here!” Vortex says, quickly recovering her breath. “Good. You didn’t conveniently forget this time,” he backhandedly says to Vortex. Her ears dip down from the insult. Nebula speaks up. “Garriz, come on,” she huffs. “We don’t have time for this! She’s been trying her best! Tell us what you need from us so we can get going.” Vortex turns her head to stare at the siren in surprise. Such boldness! It was enough to take the minotaur aback. He clears his throat, and rubs the back of his neck with his hands. “Right. My bad.” His coarse, callus-filled tawny palms slide down to his apron’s pockets to reveal a shiny, rubbery pair of wrist braces. They’re dyed a bright pink to match the siren’s natural scale tones.
“This is for you,” Garriz says, searching for Nebula’s hands to open her palms and receive the gift. “From what I know, you got lucky from Vortex’s electridash-” he deliberately ignores her chiming in with “breakneck bolt!!”. “-so I pulled some strings and got these made for you. Try ‘em on.” The siren slides the armor through her hands and to her wrists, taking her time to readjust the straps to her fitting. “They look good, don’t they?” he asks, smiling as he places his broad hands on his hips. “Good stuff.” Vortex squints at the minotaur, her thick lips curling up and down from underneath her armor. She ought to not point out his blindness and humors the man for his lack of sight jokes.
“Woooow,” Nebula awes at the gift, twisting her arms around to admire the craftsmanship. “What do these do?”
“They’re combined with rubber to cancel out Vortex’s lightning so that, when you mount up, she doesn’t accidentally shock you again if she uses her powers,” he explains. “As a little bonus, you see those metal cuffs lining your armor?” He points to the metal, tapping it with his finger to make a quiet “ting” noise. “This metal is called ‘Beranthium’. It’s only found in Ethereo, and it’s used as currents for mass communication. It absorbs electricity extremely well in small quantities. This much on a pair should be able to hold anything Vortex can throw at you.”
“But- the… rrruuuhhbbar?” Nebula points out.
“Any excessive charge that happens to not get canceled out will be stored in the cuffs,” he says. Nebula studies the protective gear for several beats more, then shrugs her shoulders. “Whatever you say?” the siren says. This part of Terrania is so weird.
“Not done just yet,” he adds, leaning down to reveal something hidden underneath him with a thick blanket. “I haven’t used this in a long time, but I think it’s best if you two kids have it.” Under the cloth, the two gape at the large, old leather saddle. It’s worn down from use, but still in great condition.
“Do we get a horse to ride?!” Vortex yells in momentary excitement.
“What, no,” Garriz answers. “This is for you, Vortex. To wear.”
A confused silence hangs in the air. “What,” she dumbly says.
“Nebula can’t keep up with you on foot, and speed is your best skill. I can saddle you up so she can ride you for the chase.” He picks the saddle back up to start gearing the werewolf in the equipment. He lifts Axle up and away out of their leather scabbard. She protests for a moment, but gives up when she notices the time. The moon is continuing to rise, and she feels the faint hum of her magical belt chirp up. Arguing with this crazy plan was not on the docket. It’s an extremely speedy suit up, and the werewolf slightly stumbles from the newfound weight on her back. Not as strenuous as her school backpack, but it was certainly still heavy!
“There we go,” he says. “I know Nebby doesn’t have legs like us, so I modified it a bit for her tail to slip in.” A giant, altered horse collar sits on Vortex’s lower back, causing minor strain from the sheer weight. The curved, slightly dirty hames latch firmly on the traces to situate Nebula. “This is-” Vortex lowly grunts out. “-heavy-”
“Suck it up, buttercup,” Garriz says. “Hop on up, Nebby,” he says, guiding her on how to mount the werewolf. “This is so demeaning,” the monster girl whines. Nebula hops up, props her body upright on the saddle, and carefully slips her tails and fins through the collar.
“Now for the bri-” Garriz starts before the werewolf lets out a large, knowing growl. “You are NOT putting a bridle on me,” she threatens. “I will angle your anvil 3 degrees off.” Nebula decides to snip the brewing verbal fight by grabbing the ends of the werewolf’s grown out sideburns. “Th-these will do! Let’s go!” Vortex heaves forward, her gait awkwardly trying to accommodate for the added weight of the equipment. She gets a few steps in, wobbling from side to side. “Is this reALLy a goOD ideA?!” she shouts.
“Wait, you still need Axle!” he shouts back at the two. Vortex hobbles swiftly back to the minotaur, trying to figure out how to make space for the large weapon. He improvises by slinging Vortex’s scabbard on the peak of the collar and tying it down with the trace straps. It’s a messy knot, but his skill at it makes sure that Axle will not be slipping off any time soon. The weapon points up to the sky diagonally. Vortex buckles from the added weight. Altogether, they form a strange horse-riding satellite magnet thing.
“There we go. Try using your powers!” Garriz recommends.
Vortex activates her Breakneck Bolt, speeding off to the first spot where they can catch the caboose. The rubber braces work like a charm, leaving the siren untouched from the strong electricity. The beranthium lined cuffs glow, storing the excess charge inside as promised. They arrive at the first set of rails. Axle’s blade shimmers from the intensity of power, and turns to point at where the moonstone’s energy is strongest. “There!” They shout. Vortex follows the path, slowly finding her rhythm and footing with the added weight.
Structurally, Vortex’s arms and legs during a half moon are stuck in the metamorphic stage of wolf and human. However, Garriz instructed her to exercise intensely with bear runs in order to get the hang of running with her mixed body’s physical makeup. She does not wish to resemble any sort of predator to keep a hold of her humanity. Instead, in the mornings, she has taken intense interest in studying the equine world’s movement. Her efforts to run like a different animal than she is has resulted in a strange fluidity of her run, resembling a wolf-styled gorilla sprint. It’s honestly quite disturbing.
Dirt kicks up when Vortex’s mighty were-hands slam and swipe up the ground. She pushes her body to tense up more of her core to support Nebula. What catches her attention the most is how, despite the polarization of gravitational pull still keeps the siren afloat while riding on top, she can still feel her weight push on her back. “Stay diligent! The train could be above us,” she shouts from inside her armor. They push forward to trace the steel rails for any sign of the train. Axle wobbles about, finding any sort of signal from the train’s moonstone presence.
Hours pass by. They’ve had to take multiple breaks on the hillocks for Vortex to catch her breath. The higher altitudes place a heavy, tightening pressure on the werewolf’s chest. Thinner oxygen means less run time. She pushes on. Time is of the essence. Finally, they close the gap when the train rides close through the tracks near the human village. Vortex books it as hard as her body will allow, grunting and snarling with each push. The train howls with a steamy hiss, crying out in its spectral state. “Come on, we’re almost there!” Nebula encourages. The werewolf’s lungs are crisp and aching against the high altitude’s frigid spring night winds. If she were paying any closer attention, her alveoli are developing a wheezy noise. Or that might be the train creaking from its age. Who knows!
The metal tracks clattering with the raging iron-rusted wheels creaking from contact deafen Vortex’s thoughts. They’re so close. Now all they need to do is close the gap and grab onto the caboose’s rails.
“Get ready!” the werewolf shouts. Nebula braces for the jump by keeping her body flush to the runner. With a huge leap, Vortex vaults the trio off the ground and successfully grabs the support bars. The train then screams at the top of its smoky lungs. Fire erupts from the engine in an infernal blaze, setting the speed to full steam ahead. Vortex grips on tightly to the back; the intensity of the unexpected sprint pulls at her shoulder, threatening to dislocate it. Stubbornly, she holds on.
The wind zips onVortex, Nebula, and Axle. They soar through the dark night sky, stars smiling down upon their flailing forms. Vortex’s heart, once racing from physical exertion, now picks up from sheer panic. She is hollering and screaming.
“Don’t look down, don’t look down!” Nebula pleads. “You’ll only freak out more if you do!”
Too late. Immediately did what she was not supposed to do. The giant, overbearing trees have reduced to blurry, branchy speed lines within her limited vision. The weight of the helmet, chestplate, saddle, Axle, and Nebula becomes magnified. Grasping on for dear life if only for the human desperation to not be a splat on the ground. “Oh, woAH, WAAAAAAAAA-!!” Her pupils shrink to beady dots from fear.
Nebula hurriedly shifts her hands from the poking out handlebar of teal sideburns to grappling tightly at her armored helm. “We’re right there!” she encourages Vortex. Her hands glow alight, putting a strange power inside the werewolf. Vortex pulls all three of them up with great effort. “Whough- Garriz was right. I need to do way more pull-ups.” Her body aches. She ignores it.
“There it is,” Nebula says, staring at the moon gate door. “These are… rather unconventional gates. Usually, they’re all meant to look like actual moons.”
“Hmn…” Vortex stares at the caboose door. It’s split into two handles. They take a tiny step back. Oddly enough, it DOES look a lot like a typical moon gate minus the stone foundations. It’s steel forged, sure, but the shape does resemble a half moon. They’d have to gather some source of water to pool down to open it to its fullest.
Nebula shivers violently. “How high up are we?” She looks over the rails. It’s a long way down. A sudden frozen pair of hands bury themselves deeply into Vortex’s ponytail hair fur. The werewolf loudly yelp-squeals. “YOW!” she screeches. Shivers ripple through their body.
Suddenly, the moon gate is brutally opened, its two doors barely hanging on to its already aging hinges. Stomping forward to the stunned, paralyzed trio, steel toed boots clang on the wooden baseboards. Donning a vintage conductor’s uniform with strange, oddly light candy lilac and cherry red striped vest, steel firebox door epaulets, and a dark, spectral, wispy skull with no pupils, the big boss sneers at them. “Stowaways on my train, aren’t you?” he seethes. His wisps whip about as he speaks. “Sorry, but we don’t allow little leeches with no tickets onboard. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Grabbing a baton from his hips, it extends into a large steel beam staff of pain. Vortex is swift to react, grabbing onto the beam with her bare hands to push back.
“Poor choice, leech,” the conductor taunts. Fire goes alight inside the staff, and singed flesh fills both Vortex and Nebula’s senses. “AAAARRRGH!” Vortex painfully rips out from her lungs, unable to undo her grip on the beam. The conductor gives a mighty, powerful shove, causing Vortex to stumble and tip over from the beams. Nebula was right behind her. The siren, for the second (perhaps third technically?) gets shoved off a high location.
They are rapidly falling to their impending dooms if they don’t find a way to lessen the blow in the next ten to twenty seconds. Vortex is wildly flailing about with the heavy weight of the saddle and Axle acting as a satellite antenna. “Quick, grab onto me!” Axle commands Vortex. “I’m TRYING!” she shouts over the deafening wind. She spins as if she were being rotated inside a high-speed wrinkle care setting on the dryer attempting to grab ahold. She does grip onto Axle and yank them out of the makeshift tie, moonstones flying about their form. “Come on, come on, DO SOMETHING!” Vortex begs the gems. “HYAH!” With a fishing rod swing, the cave stone awakens, filling the trio with a bright, alternating prismatic aura. Then, a string shoots out from the weapon’s peak edge, attaching itself to the metal under workings of the train. With a last minute maneuver, Nebula latches onto the closest thing she can to the werewolf- once again, her ponytail. “Ow, OW, OW OW OW OW-” Vortex repeatedly squeals out as they swing across the sky with a magical manifestation of a lightning grappling hook.
“Close it in, close the gap!” Axle orders out.
“I AM TRYING!!!” she shouts at the metal blade. The stone was awakened mere seconds before they could make violent contact with the ground with their squishy bodies. She can’t keep getting things right under high pressure situations like this! Giving it her mental best, she focuses on closing the gap. Though as she turns her head to the sky, her heart stops.
No, no! Not the dawn coming! The dark night was lightening up to its familiar shades of blue with the early morning. They can’t give up- but, but- if she has to fight them in her human form, Nebula will see how truly pathetic she is in it. There’s only one option.
ABORT THE MISSION!
“The sun’s coming!” Vortex screams. “We’re out of time! We need to get back down!” The train flies over the familiar tablet-shaped lake. “Emergency water landiiiing!” She mentally extends the lightning hook to lower them down closer to the waters. Once they’re at a distance where they won't be lethally knocked unconscious on impact, Vortex drops the connection, and they cannonball right into the bioluminescent lake. All of the miniscule fish are startled, scrambling away with the newly formed tides. A handful of seconds later, Nebula emerges first, gasping for air (to recover from the shock of it all rather than being… unable to breathe water cause she absolutely can). Vortex is next, shivering viciously while gulping for oxygen herself. She still has a tight hold on Axle, but plops them down to the rapidly dampening ground. The armor drops with Vortex’s fur hair drenched all over their half-moon face, obscuring her features from the alien siren.
“We- we didn’t make it,” Vortex says. “Th… there’s always the next half moon?” Nebula tries to comfort her with. “Priestess did say we are ahead. We have some wiggle room.” ‘That’s not good enough,’ Vortex thinks. She should have gotten this right the first time around. Why is she struggling so hard to keep up with a ghostly, scary train with her as-fast-as-light abilities?! THIS SHOULD BE EASY TO DO!
“Ye-yeah,” she merely says in return. “We do.”
“I- I gotta get out of here, Nebula,” Vortex says. “It might be the weekend, but I need to get chores done. Tell Garriz we tried for me!” With that, she zooms off with a Breakneck Bolt. Nebula gently sways with the remaining shockwaves of the water crash. Everything hurts. She’s lucky to be alive again. The saddle probably got banished to the bottom of the lake. She hops out of the waters, sighing as she looks at Axle.
“Let’s get inside,” she says, grabbing at the end of their handle. She struggles but does her best to drag the weapon inside the cabin. “There should be some food in the fridge I can eat. I’m tired.” When they settle inside, Nebula wraps herself up in a blanket as she mindlessly eats scrambled eggs with a few shakes of hot sauce and seasoning on it. This was not her best work. But she can’t let this setback get to her. Nebula wants to be home with the familiar kelp, the coral caves where she can play games with her friends, and watching other sirens race on seahorses. The memory of Chelonia puts her mind at ease, and she heads over to her room to rest as the sun rises in the east.