The massive body of the steam train began to move slowly. Cyril could almost see thick billows of white steam erupting from the front of the train. Initially, the steam train didn't move very fast, but with a series of clanks and clatters, it started to accelerate, then surged forward at an extraordinary speed. The meadows and trees outside the window turned into blurry phantoms.
Cyril gazed at the fleeting scenery outside the window for a moment, then shifted his attention and took a newspaper from the shelf. It was the freshly printed "Today's Post," a local newspaper from Philadelphia, carrying a strong scent of ink. The newspapers of this era were quite diverse in content. They featured sections on the latest fashion trends in the capital city, exclusive interviews with a newly elected congressman, and even some peculiar local rumors and the latest creations of wandering poets.
Cyril carefully searched the newspaper but found no news about "Count Abraham's grand reception of a wizard."
Next, he closed his eyes and began to meditate.
The meals in the first-class car were excellent. For lunch, Cyril had cheese-baked macaroni, lamb stew, and spicy lobster soup. For dinner, he ordered fish and chips, apple salad, and sugared pastries. He couldn't help but savor the delicious sugared pastry, which had a crispy crust and a soft filling, leaving him completely satisfied.
In the evening, they retired to their individual sleeping compartments. Cyril's room was approximately eight square meters in size. A cozy bed with neatly arranged bedding stood on one side, next to a standing wooden cabinet for luggage and clothing. On the other side, there was a small round table and a long sofa.
Cyril briefly freshened up in the communal washroom, where he ran into Loz Weber. They exchanged smiles and bid each other goodnight.
After returning to his room, Cyril took another look at the dark, blurry scenery outside the window. He closed the curtains, climbed onto the bed, and found the bedding luxuriously comfortable, relaxing his body and mind completely. The night air was a bit chilly, carrying a hint of coldness.
Cyril pulled the covers up to his chin, leaving only a small part of his fair cheek exposed, and gently closed his eyes. Accompanied by the rhythmic sounds of the steam train, Cyril unknowingly entered the world of dreams.
He had a bizarre dream.
Cyril dreamed that he successfully entered the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which he had always longed for. However, as a newcomer, he knew nothing, and his first class was an exceptionally challenging Potions class. He followed the textbook meticulously but ended up exploding a cauldron, earning himself detention from the stern Potions professor.
During detention, Cyril's task was to skin a pile of snake corpses. He was clumsily working when suddenly, a tiny snake named Grin emerged from the pile of snake corpses and slithered away rapidly.
Cyril chased after Grin into the Forbidden Forest outside the castle and soon got lost.
While wandering in the forest, he heard faint sounds. He concentrated and looked towards the source of the noise. It was a man wearing a black feathered cloak adorned with silver threads.
He had a tall and lean figure, and most of his face was obscured by a hood, shrouded in shadows. Moonlight, as cool as water, illuminated his sharp jawline.
The man stood casually under the desolate trees littered with fallen leaves, his dark boots encasing his slender and powerful legs.
When Cyril saw what was beneath the man's feet, his eyes widened suddenly.
Under the man's feet lay a jumble of scattered skeletal remains.
His clean boots crushed the fresh white bones, emitting a faint sound of bone cracking.
Cyril's hand involuntarily clenched his own clothing at his side. He remained as quiet as a quail, afraid to make any noise. However, the man's gaze pierced through the layers of grass and trees, landing accurately on him.
Cyril could sense a hint of malevolent amusement in the man's gaze. The man tilted his head slightly, and the velvety black hood silently slid down, revealing his strikingly handsome face.
Cyril's pupils dilated, and his heart raced. It was Mr. Scott!
At this moment, the wizard's eyes, as dark as the night, sent shivers down Cyril's spine.
In the next instant, Mr. Scott's figure appeared abruptly in front of Cyril, almost within arm's reach.
Cyril tried to step back, but his body refused to obey, immobilized.
He watched as Mr. Scott emitted a cryptic chuckle, then reached out with his icy fingers to lift Cyril's chin.
Cyril felt like a cat with its fur standing on end, his whole body tensed, and a sense of impending danger swirled in his mind.
The cold fingertip gently grazed his chin for a moment before sliding down, touching his throat lightly and drawing an apparently casual circle.
Finally, it abruptly tightened around his neck.
"Such beauty..." Mr. Scott's deep voice carried a husky tone.
Cyril couldn't hear the rest of the words, and he suddenly woke up from this absurd dream.
He sat on the bed, his heart still racing. He had dreamt that Mr. Scott wanted to kill him.
Outside the window, bright sunlight had already pierced through the curtains into the room. The surrounding noises became clear—the rhythmic sounds of the train's motion, the opening and closing of doors in the other compartments, and the murmurs of people.
Cyril rubbed his cheeks with his hand. He got out of bed, drew back the curtains, and gazed at the bright sunlight outside for a while, banishing the eerie dream from his mind.
However, because of this inexplicable dream, he felt somewhat listless throughout the day.
Fortunately, Cyril heard from Warren Abraham that they would be arriving in the capital city in the afternoon. For some reason, Warren had become more enthusiastic about him since they boarded the train.
Cyril couldn't fathom why Warren Abraham, a boy with a thousand thoughts, had suddenly taken such an interest in him. He also found the relationship between himself and the wizard somewhat... ambiguous. And it appeared to be entirely one-sided on the wizard's part.
Warren had noticed yesterday, during lunch and dinner, that the wizard's gaze had lingered on Cyril the entire time. As a result, he had unconsciously eaten several extra servings of caramel pudding.
Warren Abraham cast a complex look at Cyril. Regardless, he had decided to take a more indirect approach and build a friendship with Cyril. Growing up in a complicated family, he was well aware of the power of "pillow talk."
In the afternoon, the last stop before the capital city arrived, bringing four noble youths into their train car. As soon as they entered, the arrogant one among them, the leader, glanced at Bryan and abruptly walked toward him.