A Tale of Forgotten Gods

Chapter 103: Mutual Farewell

Within five minutes, the collected stack of tickets sat on the surface. Every single slip bore misspelled variations of their intended end stop: Ciryadal, Ciraydl, Ciradael. The ink glistened with a subtle, oily sheen under the carriage lamps.

​”Stay out of it.” Murphy ordered, his voice cutting through the rising panic of the passengers. ”Hold onto the iron railings.”

​He turned on his heel, pulled out a matchbox, ignited the stick, and threw it at the tickets, which instantly flared them because of the fuel.

​A high-pitched, human-like shriek echoed from deep within the firebox as the cursed paper curled and blackened, then slowly turned into white, harmless steam.

​The loop fractured.

​Through the cab windows, the endless, repeating scenery of the dead station stopped instantly as it didn’t return again. The dark fog dissolved, revealing the true night sky heavy with rain clouds, illuminated by the distant, sweeping beam of a coastal lighthouse. The train lurched violently, its iron wheels grinding against legitimate steel rails with a metallic roar that threw Murphy back half a step.

​The unnatural cold in the carriages evaporated, replaced by the simple air of the real world.

​Murphy held a grin after solving another mystery. He reached into his vest, pulled out a clean handkerchief, and pressed it against the gashed fabric at his ribs where the blood had finally begun to congeal. ”If anyone knows how to handle the train, please go ahead.”

​The passengers picked themselves up, looking around in utter bewilderment. Through the rain-streaked windows, the silhouette of a massive, sprawling city loomed in the distance. Thousands of golden gas lamps flickered through the coastal mist, outlining the grand clock tower and towering stone bridges. One of the men stood and looked at the detective. ”Leave it to me, sir.”

​Lin stood near the center and steadied Zhuo by his shoulder. She looked up as Murphy entered, her eyes immediately darting to the fresh tear in his coat and the dark stain beneath it.

Murphy glanced at them. ​”The destination is clear, Miss. We will reach Ciradyl soon.” Murphy replied coolly, placing his hand over his chest in a brief, polite nod. ”Think nothing of it. I advise you both to gather your belongings. The station authorities in Ciradyl are thorough, and I doubt any of us wish to spend the morning answering questions about the missing conductor and the driver. I will handle the legal issues.”

​Zhuo peeked out from behind Lin to look at the detective with reverent eyes.

​Lin searched his face, her brow furrowing, but before she could press him further, Murphy turned and walked toward the far end of the train, stepping into the space between carriages to stand alone in the rushing wind.

​He leaned his back against the damp wall, pulling out a single match and a cigarette. With a quick strike against the metal frame, the yellow flame illuminated his sharp features for a fraction of a second before he pulled the smoke deep into his lungs.

​He looked out into the rain toward the towering gates of Ciradyl. Unlike the Clockwork City he had left behind, this was far larger, filled with deep shadows.

​”Ciradyl...” Mo Fei whispered softly to himself as the train slowed its pace. ”If I find the mirror of truth there.”

Time passed.

The train groaned as it slowly stopped on the platform of the grand terminal of Ciradyl, the iron wheels coming to a heavy, screeching halt beneath the vaulted glass ceiling. Steam billowed across the crowded platform and reached toward the sky.

​Before any of the passengers could move out of the train onto the platform, Murphy stepped out first, his trench coat pulled tight around his bleeding ribs and his fedora tilted forward to cast his face in shadow. He looked at the station and walked straight toward the stationmaster’s office, where two uniformed railway officers and a local precinct inspector were already gathering, alerted by the train’s erratic arrival time. They had been waiting after the train had been four hours late.

​The inspector’s gaze lay upon the man walking toward them, his hand hovering near his holster, and he called out. ”Hold on, sir. This platform is restricted until we inspect the engine. We received reports of lost telegraph signals from the previous station. The train had been missing and was four hours late.”

​Murphy quietly pulled a crisp, gold-embossed leather folder from inside his coat and held it out with practiced authority while hiding the birthday.

​”Murphy Law, a Detective.” His voice dropped into a low, commanding tone that brooked no argument. ”I was travelling through this railway train, but unfortunately it encountered an attempted hijacking by an armed criminal cell midway through the transit. Though the criminal had died.”

​The inspector blinked at the Murphy’s words. ”A hijacking? Where are the perpetrators, any identity?”

”Not any specifically. Although the driver and conductor were compromised early in the trip and lost their lives too during the struggle. I have somehow managed to secure the journey of local passengers to Ciradyl. However, the scene inside the cab is not any better.”

​The station officers exchanged uneasy glances, staring at the bloodstains on Murphy’s coat and the cold, unyielding confidence in his posture. The officer took a long breath and turned toward the stationmaster.

Murphy slightly tilted his head and continued. ”If you want this resolved without inciting a city-wide panic or causing a commercial shutdown of the railway line...” He leaned slightly close and whispered in a low tone. ”You should record this incident only as a boiler explosion caused by some kind of sabotage. The passengers were isolated in the rear carriages for their safety, so stay reassured; they don’t know anything in specific. State that the crew died in the line of duty preventing a derailment, and I myself have managed the case.”

​He reached into his vest, pulling out the remaining official report slips he had stamped.

​”Write the report, clear the passengers through the gates without interrogation, and keep the Watch away from the platform for the next hour. The investigation is closed, so don’t try to make a scene out of it since it may cause people to avoid the train entirely.”

​The inspector looked at the documents, then at another officer, and finally at the imposing detective who had single-handedly brought a hijacked train into the station. He swallowed hard and nodded. ”Understood, Detective Law. We’ll file it as an engine fault and clear the passengers immediately. Thanks for the bringing the passengers safely.”

Murphy tipped the brim of his fedora. ”A good narrative always makes everyone’s job easier.”

​He turned on his heel and walked away. A few moments later, Lin and Zhuo stepped off the train with the rest of the crowd, only to find the station guards ushering everyone smoothly through the gates without a single delay or question.

​Lin looked around the bustling, foggy terminal, searching the sea of umbrellas for the tall detective in the dark coat, and saw his back vanishing into the shadow of the Ciradyl. She looked at the sky; it was already morning.

Zhuo walked while holding her hand, half asleep, as he didn’t get a good sleep last night, staggering with each step, only guided by Lin’s movements.

Her gaze locked on the name on the board. ”Ciradyl... I hope we find a Nikoi in the fields of Eastern Ciradyl.”

She pulled Zhuo, who staggered but still walked behind her.

The detective was nowhere to be seen, but the memories of his help still lingered in her mind. But there was something unusual about that man, not that kindness but almost as if he helped because he knew them. That small smile crossed over his lips, a ridiculous smile almost exaggerated behind that cold facade.

She pressed her hat with her other hand and walked forward and exited the station.

A city emerged from beneath the coastal mist. It was enormous; massive bridges connected districts, and various gothic towers rose through the city, and many people walked through the streets, holding umbrellas as the slow, small raindrops fell.

Who knows what this city held, but Lin had connections with that place. What would be the hidden mysteries behind it?