“Ah’m not one for industrialization,” I said after a few moments. Turning my head back from the windows to look at Crawford.

The man turned his own gaze away a few seconds later, the hand that was pressed against the window moving to support his chin as he stared at me. “It is the might of progress. The wyverns have allowed us to grow by leaps and bounds… and if you don’t enjoy Glasgow you certainly wouldn’t enjoy London my good man.”

“Ah’ve got nothin’ against progress,” I replied. “Ah’m just not one for the abuse of animals. A horse can pull a cart, but ya feed it afterwards and don’t keep it shackled to the floor. That-” I pointed out of the window towards the factory complex. “Isn’t the way to be treatin’ somethin’ of intelligence.”

Crawford said nothing for a few minutes, a frown finding its way onto his face. When he did finally speak he was far more quiet. “I’m not a great fan myself, but it is the way of things and there is nothing we can do about it. Besides, there is something… magnificent about it, isn’t there?”

I turned my head back to the window, the industrial area was quickly fading away to become a trainyard. Where I could see horses and wyverns both pulling heavy loads around. Ahead of that was the trainyard itself, metal behemoths were pulling in and out of the station, loud hissing and screeching metal filled the air as they pulled forward. Here, much like elsewhere, wyverns were used as well. In this case I could see them in enclosed compartments in the front end of the trains… I didn’t know what they were properly called, but they breathed out jets of flame that lit up the furnace, causing them to gain speed rather rapidly as they pulled out of the station.

One watched me as the carriage pulled up, a brace around its mouth to keep it from letting out flame inadvertently as it sat in its compartment. Yellow eyes watched as I opened the door to the carriage, then a sharp tug from the train’s master forced its head back to the coals. I stepped out… and discovered that the cart hid the smell as well, the scent of coal fills the air, along with the scent of polluted air and the now familiar scent that wyvern flame leaves behind.

“I’ve already sent ahead for the dock workers to move the wyvern onto one of the train beds.” As he said this the carriage moved up, and like ants dock workers moved to start getting a crane in place to move it onto a flatbed. The beast jerked frantically against its bindings, wings twitching… but its eyes were locked on me. The beast was more than a little displeased, and I did honestly wish there was an easier way, but a few hours of being stuck on a train would be better than being bound down on the back of a cart for a day. That thought stayed in my mind the entire time I was buying the ticket and entering the train itself.

---

The booth of the train I was making my way towards had more posh and padding than my entire home, and I sat down onto the seat and leaned back against it. Crawford joined me a moment later, the rich man crossing his legs and resting his hands upon them.

“Been a good few months since I’ve been to London.” Crawford admitted, his foot bouncing slightly against the wooden floor as he looked out the window.

I followed his gaze, through the small window I could see the trains on the other side of my own. Dozens of the things, smoke rising from their chimneys into the air as they handled either passengers or cargo. There was a half-decent chance of there being more train cars here than people in my town. I contented myself with people watching, and a good few minutes later the train jerked, then slowly started moving forward until Glasgow was out of sight. Instead it was replaced by the outskirts of the city, then miles upon miles of ranchland going off in every direction. The same kind of ranchland that had been driving my farm, and all the farms around me, out of business. I frowned at the sight, and if Crawford noticed he didn’t mention it, instead the first thing he said since we started moving was a general question.

“How long has that farm been in your family?

I looked at him, my eyes shifting between his face and the ranchland outside as I answered. “Fourteen generations.” I replied. “Unless this works out, it'll be the last.”

Crawford frowned at that, lightly tugging on the sleeve of his coat before he lets out a sigh. “My wife's family were farmers before we met, so I understand.”

My gaze turned from the window completely, the view outside forgotten as I looked to him, then to all the bluebloods around me in the passenger car. “Ah really don’t think ya do actually, but your attempts at empathy are welcome. It’s mah burden to bear, and this is a gamble to be sure.”

“If it's any consolation the wyvern seems to have warmed up to you rather quickly, you may have a knack for it.”

I shook my head. “It’s an animal, I’ve grown up around them and have learned to rear them. Ya treat it well and it’ll do what ya ask, unless it’s particularly ornery. Don’t see how a wyvern is any different than a horse or coo, ‘sides the fact that it can breath fire and fly.” I said this last bit with a smile, amused by the comparison myself.

Crawford returned the smile. “Quite a few people think of them as magical creatures, likened to fae.”

“Never met ah fae that crashes into my barn, scares the coos, and gets a gapin’ wound in the chest. But admittedly, never met any fae at all.” I replied. “Wounds healin’ nicely though. The beast’ll probably have half a mind to take off the moment we get the shackles off of it.”

“It would be best if we kept it… shackled until we reach its original residence. Which shouldn’t be too hard given the mark on it. There are dozens of wyvern lords in London, but finding the gentleman who owned this particular breed won’t be too difficult.”

“Aye, and if the man simply takes it and dumps me back on the street it will have all been for nothing.” I replied, glancing back out the window to the rolling hills.

“Quite impossible, you are owed due recompense for the damage to your farm, and you have several witnesses of standing to testify. The lord’s wyvern did damage to your property, so you are by law entitled to payment.” Crawford explained.

“Aye, and it’s always been the way of the rich to play fairly.” I shot back, my worries about this trip coming out perhaps sooner than I had planned.

Crawford gave me a look that was nothing less than conciliatory. “Now now my good man, it will all be sorted in due accor-

*Bang*

Crawfords statement was cut off as I fell forward, one hand slamming onto the seat in front of me as Crawford fell to the side. Gasps and screams filled the cabin, and I heard a deep and familiar growl in the distance behind me. My feet were moving before my brain even knew what I was doing, stumbling through the shaking train car as I ran through one and into the next. The sights and sounds of a drinking cabin passed me by as I burst through that door as well, and I suddenly found myself standing just in front of the flatcars. The beast was roaring mightily, having partially pried off the muzzle around its mouth and the chains around its neck as it slammed its head into the side of the cage in a bid for freedom. The crew of the train was already around it, hesitantly standing around the cage holding chains and ropes as they tried to figure out the best way to deal with the panicking animal.

I sprinted past them, ignoring their shouts of warning as I reached the iron door and swung it open. The beast’s head hit me a moment later, slamming me back into the cage with a groan. Pain shot up my back, but I ignored it and dove to the side as a jet of flame lit up the ground where I just was. My coat lit, the wool fabric having caught as easy as kindle wood. I slipped my arms out of it, leaving the burning article behind before I surged forward, swinging low as it tried to ram its head into me again before I tackled it underneath the neck.

The beast jerked, letting out a roar of anger as it tried to buck me off. With only the movement of its neck and head being available to it, it was at a disadvantage.

“Calm…” I said quietly, holding on as it thrashed against me. “Calm.”

It swings its head up, inadvertently slamming its own body into the top of the cage. I refused to let go, swinging my leg up and over so that I was sitting on its neck. “It’s gonna be alright ya beast… calm.” I reached out to grasp one of the bars, muscles flexing as I held it in place using my legs and arms. It stared up at me, yellow slitted eyes filled with anger and frustration at its inability to buck me off. It lowered its head slowly, laying its throat and snout against the floor of the cage.

I kept our eyes met, hand pressing down on its head as I slowly slid down off of it. A small jet of flame escaped its snout, but it made no further movements to buck or fight. The rattling of chains caught my attention, and I turned my head to see it struggling against a pair of new chains that are holding its wings to the side of the cage. As I watched it jerked on them again, I stared at them, tracing my gaze down to catch they were hooked onto the floor. Bending down I undid them both, the sound of metal hitting the floor sounding out a moment later as the wyvern pulled its wings onto itself, a soft growl filling my ears that mixes with the sound of rushing wind from the trains movement.

Speaking of movement, motion out of the corner of my eye caused me to turn my head. Crawford was standing a good dozen feet away from the edge of the cage, a slight smile on his face as he looked at me. “Not bad, you could be a wyvern rider yourself.”

“Not damn likely,” I replied. “Ah’ll be stayin’ out here the rest of the trip so it doesn’t try anythin’ stupid.”

One of the crewmen, a rather burly man that looked like a mule kicked him in the face every morning for a wakeup started to speak. “We need to tie it back down si-”

I shook my head vehemently. “Ah’ve got it handled, you do whatever it is you do.”

He looked like he wanted to say something more, but backs off and starts to give instruction to the others. I leaned back against the beast, my eyes meeting its own for a moment before I turned my head to the countryside as it rushed past us. The wind in my hair, the speed we were moving.

It just wanted to fly.