“State your name.” The gruff man said, blocking the entry to the train.

David grimaced, “David Petite Castle.”

David could see the man grin in the late-night shadow, “Well, Mr. Petite. Come aboard.”

David rolled his eyes and pushed past the man into the pitch-black train. David didn’t need to see though. This was his 35th trip on this train and he had brought his goggles anyway. David strapped on his strange and rather grotesque-looking goggles on and suddenly the train car was bathed in a green light.

David ambled over to a window, propping his elbows onto the windowsill. He wished he was back in his forge instead of conducting this business with the Guild. Even now, he didn’t understand why they would need a small-town blacksmith for this.

The train began to pull out of the station. A while later, he noticed glowing dots in the black sky, much too big to be stars. They grew in size until he could even see the men inside the glowing hot-air balloons. David took a deep breath as the train began to slow.