I met a mutant on the overnight express from Ettermire to Knife's Edge. Tiny guy, ugly as sin. I don't know how I knew he was a mutant; it was something about his hair. Or maybe it was something he told me later, and then I pretended I always knew. The mind plays tricks. I had seen him on the platform, looking eager, maybe a bit awkward in the space. Like someone who didn't get out much. He was twitchy in his skin, too, prodding at things with his feet, kicking along. He changed when he saw me, that's for sure.
It had been raining in Ettermire for most of the morning and afternoon, and I'd been out in the thick of it, trying to get to the library for one last look and then trying to navigate the streets towards Tenebrae Station, Platform Six. These trips were unavoidable necessities, as my own meager library was not nearly enough for what I had to do. And I had friends here, among the librarians. Friends who would hide me for a week, or even a month. I hadn't come that long, yet, but I knew that Izzit would show me hospitality whenever I asked. In fact, we had planned this trip for a week later; I was supposed to be arriving on the train that I was now leaving on. Shift of fate, change of plans. Mainly I had picked up a tail in Knife's Edge and so had left early before it got too hot. Izzit didn't mind, he was a stand-up chap.
Chap. Funny word. Picked it up from Sir Leopold, for some reason it seems to fit when you're in Ettermire. Leopold said that he had come from a city like Ettermire, even, a city of metal sewer grates and unpleasant smells. For all that, it had its charms. Vulgar ones, yes, but they grew on you. I wish I had traveled here more, as a child. Though I was still a child, in some respects. Though few children missed as many friends as I did now, thinking on Leopold. And Wyn, Wyn who for all I knew perished in Eluriand. I wished for a moment the rain would come back. It would have been appropriate.
But I had my cowl up around my face because of the rain. My arts at disguise were rudimentary, and the showers had washed away what little glamour my crafts could concoct. I was trying to keep a low profile, especially here. Thankfully, it had been some time since Raiaera had been much threat to Alerar, and the guards at the turnstiles were no longer as suspicious as they might have been of a high elf. Just another formerly well-heeled refugee. Better out than in, to them.
But when the train arrived I noticed the little man, looking about. He was becoming irritated as folks swept from the train, as if he was looking for someone. Maybe a lover? His hair seemed to flash through its colors with a little more speed, or was it my imagination? He was increasingly erratic as I swept past towards the train. I paid no note of it, but he must have seen me then, and behind me walked with purpose, direction. I wonder what might have happened had I not arrived a week earlier than Izzit and I had originally planned. Would have been easier, I think, to gut me in an alley.
As it stood, I was surprised as I settled into my private car. I was trying to pretend to be a refugee of simple means, but I allowed myself some small comforts. The chance of running into someone who might report my appearance elsewhere outweighed the chance that someone might notice a high elf taking a private sleeper. I was surprised because a few seconds later, he shouldered open the door and sat down across from me. His apparent twitchiness had vanished, replaced with something else.
He was a nice guy, in the end. Though it took us a while to get to get on speaking terms. I suppose I'd better let him tell the next bit.
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