Chapter 2: Of Trains, Towns, and Time - Part 4

I stepped back from the bust, the laughter slowly fading from my lips. The past, it seemed, had a way of catching up no matter how far we thought we’d run from it.

If only they knew.

An old Labrador approached us, a kind smile on his face and a cane in hand. He walked with difficulty, each step seeming to remind him of some ancient ache. He glanced at us briefly, then turned his gaze toward the bust of Lassi Mahayan.

“Oh, welcome to Hemlock Ridge, travelers,” he said, tapping his back lightly with his hand as he spoke. His voice had a warm tone, but it was laden with the weight of years. “It seems you’ve taken a liking to the bust of our late founder and benefactor, the great and esteemed Lassi Mahayan, who, along with her father, originally founded this town.” He paused, tapping his back again before continuing. “A town built to maintain the magnificent locomotive engines of the past. Our dear Lassi left us with the task of improving and caring for those trains forever... but now, well,our services aren't exactly needed anymore. It’d break her heart to know.”

A scoff escaped my lips before I could stop it, and the Labrador raised an eyebrow, clearly noticing my reaction.

“You’re too young to understand,” he said, pointing his cane at me. His tone remained kind, but now there was a hint of reproach. After another tap to his back, he coughed and studied us with curious eyes. “Who are you, and what brings you to this town?”

Telling him I was Sherry Mahayan would have been a mistake. These townsfolk idolized the Mahayans of old, the ones they saw as heroes. Revealing my true identity might complicate things. Besides, something about this town kept calling to me—something I didn’t yet understand. It was best to keep a low profile.

“My name is Mimic, and this here is Mi Fan, my young protégé. We were on our way to Svadhistana when our car broke down,” I said, knowing that a half-truth would suffice for now.

Mi Fan glanced at me, clearly confused. To her, I was Sherry Mahayan, but after a moment, she watched me intently, her ears twitching with that focused look I had grown so familiar with. Then she turned to the Labrador and nodded.

“Pleased to meet you, sir,” she said, with a slight bow of her head.

The old Labrador studied me for a few seconds longer, his eyes scanning my face with a mix of curiosity and recognition.

“You know, young one, you’re a white cat, probably from Mauria,” he said, pointing his cane at the bindi on my forehead. “Lassi Mahayan was from Mauria too. A white cat, beautiful and powerful.” He was studying me, that much was clear.

I couldn’t help but scoff again.

“These young people…” the Labrador muttered, striking his back a bit harder this time, as if trying to chase away a bothersome thought. “If you need a place to stay, there’s only one hotel in town. We’re a small community, don’t get many tourists. The hotel’s at the end of the right train track, just past the old depot.”

The Labrador remained staring at the statue of Lassi Mahayan, a mix of nostalgia and devotion in his expression as Mi Fan and I walked away. I could feel his gaze on us, watching, until we disappeared from view.

As we made our way through the town, the lights seemed to grow dimmer, as if the night itself was gradually swallowing the place. Suddenly, I heard a faint click behind us, followed by the sound of mechanisms stirring to life. For a moment, I considered turning around, but decided against it. I kept walking.

Mi Fan suddenly let go of my hand and sprinted ahead, her quick steps echoing on the pavement. Maybe she’d grown tired of me holding her hand like a child, or maybe she sensed that we were more relaxed now, more confident. Her ears perked up with that determined air she always had when she wanted to take the lead.

I sighed and touched my face, trying to relax. I needed to stay in the moment, not let myself get swept up by the currents of thoughts this place whispered in every corner.