The station was surprisingly busy the next morning. I had to weave through the crowds as I walked towards the platform. The sun was high enough to give some warmth, but hadn’t completely burnt off the morning chill yet.

I leaned against the wall as I waited. The clock across from me showed the combination of red and green which apparently meant I had about seven or eight minutes to go.

I decided to pass the time by getting the helmet to display a normal clock in my vision. If I had to rely on a rainbow to tell time, I’d never get anywhere.

As I fiddled, an announcement for my train sounded out. I flexed and bounced away from the wall, but hung back to avoid the press of people scrambling to the marked line.

I looked left and right, curious about how the train would arrive. There were no train tracks visible on either side. Energy vision gave me the same result. Seeing a few scattered people looking in the same direction, I followed their gaze.

My eyes went wide. A behemoth of shining metal was descending from the skies, sleek and glamorous. As it pulled closer and the sun’s reflection grew less, I realised the overall design looked like a futurists wet dream.

I smiled ruefully at myself. Setting air alight and weaving it in rings provoked only excitement, but something that looked like it could plausibly come from home caused shock and awe? Minds were a funny thing.

The doors slid open silently. I moved forward to follow the cram, when a burly form imperiously knocked me over. I struggled to catch myself but was falling to my left.

As I looked up from a faceful of dust, I saw three men staring down at me. All three were human.

“Out of the way, woman,” said one, spitting the word out like it was the worst insult he could think of.

“How dare you block the Master!” said the one behind him. I was guessing he was your typical sycophant.

The last man was slightly less tall than his flunkies. He looked at me with disdain, each and every one of his muscles managing to convey their superiority.

“Move bitch!” the first one snarled. Given his proximity, he was probably the one who bumped me. I dusted myself as I staggered to my feet.

As I readjusting my clothing, the supposed master spoke for the first time. “Leave her alone Michael. No need to bully a cripple.” I bit down on my retort to the semi-barbed comment. At least he had some measure of decency. “We can’t hold them to the same standards, so I will have to make do with an apology.”

I take that back. He’s an entitled prick.

I stood and looked at the trio. “Apologise!” barked Goon #1. I jumped and lost my balance, falling towards the goons’ boss. My arm stretched out to catch myself.

An iron grip snaked out and grabbed my forearm. I pulled at it frantically.

“Nice try, you thieving whore,” snarled the boss. He was entirely too close for comfort, nearly breathing down my mouth. “You should have stayed at home on your knees with your mouth open, in a woman’s proper place.”

He twisted my arm and threw me to the side. I collapsed on the floor as the trio stalked off towards the train, leaving behind mocking laughter.

When I was sure they had boarded, I sat up. My face was the very picture of smugness.

“I really must thank him for pulling me close like that. Why, I was simply breathless! And to donate to the handicapped as well,” I murmured, pulling a new pouch out of the folds of my top.

My appreciation for the poncho jumped up a few points. The layers of clothing had hidden the movements of my hand when the man had pulled me close, turning a thwarted attempt into a sure thing.

The whistle that rang out reminded me to rush for the doors. I sprinted, sliding in as the doors began closing.

I found an unoccupied pair of seats as the train began pulling away. Streaks of scenery drifted past as I slouched down in the chair. The backpack was in my lap, hiding the pouch from view of any overly curious passer-by. The crossed spears symbol on the front might mean something, after all.

I pulled open the neck of the pouch. The colours of magic sprang into sight as I looked in.

I nearly went blind.

The first item in the bag was an object of such blazing intensity you could probably use it as a lighthouse. I immediately sank back into normal vision, but the damage was done, and all I could do was try to blink away the massive eclipse in my vision.

When I’d recovered, I peered into the pouch again. There were remarkably few things inside; a large multi-faceted crystal, a shimmering purple card, train ticket and a few books.

The ticket went up in a flash of smoke. No need to be holding on to that.

I plucked the crystal from the bag. I was willing to bet good money that this was what blinded me, and grinned when the notification popped up.

Nearby energy source.

Contact established. Absorb?

“Ooooh, definitely,” I purred. The magic I’d wanted to steal yesterday was maybe a quarter of the brightness this was. If pricing was linear, I’d stolen at least 40,000 silverettes from the sexist.

Karma, you are indeed a bitch.

Warmth flooded up my arm as the hard edges disintegrated into fine dust. I was informed that my enhancement was accelerated, which only left me grinning wider.

Since I had no idea what the card was, and I hadn’t learnt to read the continental letters here yet, I decided to leave the bag alone. I tucked it into my backpack and leaned back to watch the sea of white go by.

* * *

“Through a rift, you say?” The wizened figure leaned forward in his chair.

An exasperated sigh leaked out of the man opposite. “Yes, and uninjured by the trip, as far as we could tell,” said Zohral.

“Interesting. I’m surprised you didn’t stay longer.”

“Not interesting enough. Just talking to her was a huge strain, since we had to relay our concepts mentally. Her natural mental resilience was the highest I’ve encountered in a mortal.”

“Which only serves to collaborate her story, if she didn’t know any languages. I imagine Anisibon would probably have taught her by now, so we can’t really scour her to see if she’s just a wild child.”

The younger god snorted. “A wild child? A wild human child? Surviving until adulthood in the Wild Lands? Even if that were possible, she would have had the sense to avoid the kulgar.”

“I’ve seen stranger things,” said the old god mysteriously. “Something’s intriguing about this one. Her mental resilience, for example. You say she treated you at the same level as Anisibon, but you were in relatively close proximity for hours beforehand. How were you able to communicate, yet your…passive charm had no visible effect? It’s almost as if the mind adjusted strength selectively.”

Zohral shrugged. “Don’t know, don’t really care. Maybe she’s the type to be cold to her crushes. I’m just glad I didn’t have to kick off another hanger-on.”

“You are quite possibly the only god to complain about too much adoration.” A wry smile accompanied the statement. After a pause, he continued. “Very well, you may go. I imagine I’ll hear more details from Anisibon when she arrives.”

Zohral bowed, disappearing out the door in a streak of light. The old man turned to the starry view of the window, sinking into thought.

“A stable rift, hmm?”

* * *

The darkness was warm. Air currents moved rhythmically, flowing back and forth around rocks that had long been worn smooth.

In the distance, a chink of light struggled its way in, only to be crushed. The fresh air that accompanied it was more successful, dashing into the currents and rushing through the cave.

It danced through the dark, needing no eyes for its path, and flew through an opening.

For a moment, the currents stopped. When they picked up, they were back in rhythm, flowing towards the small gap in the earthen wall. They swam, paused to tumble turn, then sailed back, carrying a new breath of air with them.

When this puff entered the ridged opening, the currents stopped completely. The darkness was frozen.

The air swirled madly as a mass began to shift. They reverberated with the low pulse that rolled out from the dark bulk. They circled around it as it moved towards the wall, and joyfully followed when it burst through in a riotous explosion.

The currents scattered, each strand of wind pulled by so many new companions. A few hugged the bulk as it joined them in the sky. Unlike the fickle winds, the mass moved with purpose. It picked up speed, and the winds pushed to help whichever urgency their new friend had.

Speeding it straight to the edge of what the intelligent races called the Wild Lands.

AN: Literary challenge for all of you out there. However, it might slightly, minisculy spoil the mystery of the last section, so ignore if you enjoyed guessing what that's all about.

For the rest of you: Spoiler : Describe a growl from the point of view of air. "Low pulse" just didn't capture it. How would air experience the act of a growl?