The moment she was on the couch, everything left her mouth at once. She was amazed it came out in even slightly coherent sentences.

Octavia hadn't realized exactly how much could be crammed into the span of several hours until she started laying bare each discrepancy aloud. Part of it was desperately slammed in front of Eleanor Vacanti, for which she felt somewhat bad. A fair amount more was for her own mental well-being, if not for the sake of dragging three more Maestros down with her into untangling every auction-born thread.

Renato's ignorance was inexplicable--the Maestro kind, at least. Velrose was a mystery, Cadence left her floored, and the latter's Harmonial Instrument was yet further a conundrum. She was relatively certain she was torturing Viola's grandmother with how quickly she was speaking. She couldn't help it, nor could she stop.

"Dear girl, slow down a bit," the poor woman finally begged. "Let's take things one step at a time."

Octavia blushed, fidgeting as she finally found the drive to taper off. Madrigal patted her knee reassuringly.

"The lightning, then," Viola began. "I've…never seen a Maestra with lightning before. Between the four of us, we've apparently got wind, light, ice, and fire. Lightning is new. Exactly how many different...things like that are there? Whatever they are."

"Magic," Madrigal whispered.

"Not magic."

Eleanor smiled. "I've already told each of you what makes you special, correct?"

Harper nodded, crossing his legs comfortably. "Will of fire, right?" he asked, raising one finger to himself. "Will of fire, spirit of wind for Madrigal, heart of light for Octavia, and, uh...Viola was…"

"A soul of ice," Viola finished on his behalf. "Though I'm impressed you memorized them."

"Why do they call them that? Just to be fancy?" Octavia asked.

Eleanor shook her head. "Oh, no, they're quite necessary terms. You do not simply possess light, my dear. Your entire heart is light. You carry it within you, and you are blessed by its warmth."

Octavia blinked. That was even more confusing than the last time she'd heard it.

"So there's a lightning version, then," Harper continued.

The woman nodded. "It is called the essence of lightning. It is uncommon, just as lightning is fleeting. Those with its grace are rational and clever, if not somewhat skeptical. They can be…difficult. After all, lightning is dangerous to handle."

Octavia scoffed. Cadence was difficult, alright.

"Is it just those five?" Madrigal asked, leaning down to poke the cat nestled at her feet. "Fire, ice, lightning, wind, and light?"

Eleanor shook her head. "There is but one more. The strength of sound resides in those who are brave, confident, and headstrong. It is startlingly powerful, and must be controlled with great care. It is not to be seen, and yet you will most definitely know its prowess from afar. I take it that the strength of sound is the last which you have not yet--"

"Renato," Octavia and Viola deadpanned, more or less simultaneously.

Madrigal beamed. Octavia was fairly certain she knew why. "That's amazing!"

Harper tilted his head. "Who's Renato?"

"That's why I couldn't see him fighting, I guess," Viola said with a shrug. "There was nothing to see to begin with."

"About Renato," Octavia clarified aloud. "He's a Maestro we met a while ago, but he didn't stick with us. He showed up again at the auction, and he brought his instrument--instruments?--with him. When we talked to him, though, he seemed to have no idea what a Maestro was. He didn't even know what Harmonial Instruments were. He didn't know anything, really."

"But we saw him use it before," Viola continued. "And he's really…skilled. Despite that, he didn't know his instrument's name. Is that even possible?"

Octavia didn't miss the way Viola gritted her teeth halfway through. She smirked.

The woman paused for a moment. "That…does sound strange. It's odd for a Maestro not to know their instrument's name, let alone to forge such a close bond in spite of that. I'm honestly at a loss. Perhaps keep an eye on that boy. There may be something more to him."

That would involve encountering him a third time over. The thought was apparently mutual, and Viola rolled her eyes. The aggravation on the girl's face alone was enough to leave Octavia stifling a snicker.

"Cadence doesn't want to be a Maestra," Madrigal murmured sadly. "Why not?"

Eleanor's face fell the moment her eyes touched the Maestra's sorrowful gaze. "My girl, Maestros and Maestras do not choose their fates. It is a blessing that each of you has answered the call, but not all who are granted Harmonial Instruments accept their destinies. There are those who choose to reject them, and their partners must wait for the day when yet another claims them again."

Madrigal's eyes shimmered painfully. "That's so cruel," she breathed.

"If it can't be used by anyone else, is it just...useless until its owner dies?" Harper asked.

Eleanor nodded. "So long as their chosen Maestro or Maestra has the ability to play, their partner will wait patiently. Once they can no longer use them well, then and only then will the Harmonial Instrument choose a new partner."

The idea alone was enough to make Octavia cringe. The concept of Stradivaria being alive, somehow, suddenly brought new context to confinement within a dark chest in the woods. She hoped she hadn't taken too long.

As to whether or not Cadence felt the same, given her circumstances, she couldn't say. Really, Etherion had been on Madrigal's mind perhaps more than its Maestra's own--in the moment, at least. It still bothered Octavia significantly. She was almost afraid to ask, lest she incur the same unsettling and monotone behavior. She took her chances.

"Madrigal, about...Cadence's instrument. You said Lyra 'wanted to know', right?"

Madrigal nodded, a smile plastered onto her face.

"You could hear her? Like, in your head?"

Again, she nodded, the same smile eternal. Octavia's eyes flickered to Eleanor's expectantly.

She beamed. "That's normal for those with a deep connection to their Harmonial Instruments. Someday, you will surely hear their voice in your heart. Still, it's impressive that one of you has made it there so soon."

Madrigal beamed. It should've quashed most of Octavia's concerns, given that it at least gave context to an otherwise puzzling interaction. It mostly did, and she was content for a moment.

Don't.

It didn't fix everything. She couldn't prove it. She had an extremely vague suspicion, for what had been settled gently into her backpack.

In truth, that line of thought was enough to make her raise an eyebrow. "Hey, Madrigal?"

Madrigal tilted her head. "Yeah?"

"Wasn't…Lyra's Repose here the whole time?"

She nodded.

Octavia paused. "How did you hear her from across the city?"

Madrigal's face fell, her eyes cast high to the ceiling for several seconds. Eventually, the same satisfied smile sparked on her lips once more. "I guess we're just that close!"

Octavia blinked. "But…you--"

"And these," Viola asked, raising one little pink passport calmly. "Velrose. We got the basic explanation from Octavia, but we wanted to know if you knew anything. Do you think there's Maestros or Maestras there? Have you ever heard of it in the first place?"

Octavia never got the chance to push Madrigal further, for how Viola's volume overshadowed her own. Eleanor, too, continued atop her. It was as frustrating as it was necessary, possibly. "There's likely Maestros and Maestras everywhere, dear. That being said, I can't say I've ever heard of that place. I only know so many places in the world."

Harper shrugged. "I guess we'll have to start figuring things out for ourselves, at this point. Anyone here ever taken a train before?"

"You've never?" Viola asked.

"Have you?" he shot back with a smirk.

Viola blushed. "I mean...no, I've never gotten the chance."

"Something Viola hasn't done before!" Madrigal exclaimed, outright startling the cat.

Viola bristled. "Excuse you, there's lots of things I haven't done!"

"Yes, but in the short time I've known you," Harper continued playfully, "I've watched you give Octavia this one really specific look every time she sees something new and shiny--all of us, really. It'll be fun to do something new together, for once."

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"I do not give her any kind of 'look'."

"Liar."

Ignoring the voice in her head was difficult. Ignoring the issue with Lyra's Repose was difficult. At the very least, her fellow Maestros were warm, and their extended company was a welcome concept. It was a twofold benefit--every step forward left her slightly nearer to Priscilla, just the same. She smiled.

"If we're going somewhere that far away, I really should let my family know," Madrigal added. "I'll tell them tomorrow."

"You're gonna walk all the way home?" Octavia asked.

Madrigal giggled. "No, silly, I'll send a pigeon."

Octavia flinched. "People actually do that? I thought it was a joke."

"I should probably let everyone know I'm headed out, too," Harper spoke over Viola's snickering. "I need to let Domino know he's in charge until I get back. If he gives me a hard time about it, that might…not be the only thing I need to give him."

Eleanor nodded. "Viola, dear, while you're in the city, would you like to--"

"No," Viola spat. "I don't. There's no point."

She sighed deeply. "I see. I can't make you go, but just know that the option is there. I'm sure he'd welcome the company."

Viola shook her head. "I don't want to see him like that. I'll see him when he's free. You know that."

Octavia didn't dare pry. She could string together the context well enough. She tensed regardless, brief as the exchange was.

She had few preparations to make herself, given that she'd surrendered the safety of Silver Ridge what had felt like ages ago. It had left her with a soul of ice, a spirit of wind, and the will of fire at her side. It was a trade-off she was more than happy to make, if the violin she treasured wasn't enough of a comfort already.

The wait until Sunday was going to be torture. Even so, it was still baffling to her exactly how long one day could be. After all, she'd started her morning in Minuevera. Under no circumstances was she resistant to rest. Three days would surely give her plenty of time for that, if nothing else.

Octavia didn't dare admit she was nervous about the train. She'd had enough of Viola's teasing for one night.

It was an immense relief that Sunday arrived uneventfully, given how much had been packed into the span of several days. She'd started the week as a normal girl and ended it as a Maestra, to say nothing of the myriad of crises somewhere in the middle. She had her time to explore Coda, granted, with the gracious assistance of her trusted local guide. Octavia didn't dare leave Viola's sight for a moment, lest she accidentally break her peaceful streak. Any day in which Stradivaria wasn't stolen was a good day--to say nothing of cherry-flavored chaos, reckless lightning, or the horrors of screeching violet. It was much-needed bliss.

By the end of her stay, she was almost proud of the degree to which she'd grown used to the city. She could point out landmarks. She could lead the way to shops and restaurants. She still, under no circumstances, could find her way back to Harper's camp on her own. She didn't dare so much as attempt. It left her somewhat prideful to see the approval on Viola's face at her newfound navigational confidence. Gone was the teasing she'd grown accustomed to, let alone the "look" that Harper had been so painfully correct about. She got her revenge the moment they reached the train station.

Every glance Viola took around the platform was one born of wide eyes and mild disorientation. She wasn't alone, to be fair--the situation was fourfold and mutual. It wasn't as though Octavia had ever been here. She very much did not care.

"Who's the tourist now?" she teased, elbowing the Maestra playfully.

Viola rolled her eyes, outright hitting the back of Octavia's head with the innocent little passport. Octavia only snickered. "Shut it."

"It's loud," Madrigal whimpered, settling her hands over her ears.

Octavia didn't blame her. Every rumble and screech of mechanical movement along rails and otherwise was enough to shake the planks beneath their feet. "Loud" was putting it nicely, by which even their raised voices were still somewhat failing them. The bursts of wind that periodically tortured her braids with every adjacent departure were as much of a novelty as they were annoying, and she gripped her rosy booklet ever tighter. If it were to fall to the tracks, she might as well follow it down at that point.

Harper took it well enough, one hand flat against his cap in resistance to the same overpowering gust. "Can't say I ever thought I'd get the chance."

"Where are we going again?" Octavia spoke well above the steady ambience of the station.

"Platform fifteen is what someone said at the auction," she offered, her eyes flickering from sign to sign along the ceiling. For how tormented they were by the fierce rumbling of every departure, it was somewhat of a miracle none had snapped clean off their hinges.

"That one," Madrigal offered. Sure enough, one pointed finger trailed to a flimsy, hanging iron sign, notably more weathered than the rest.

Harper tilted his head. "Doesn't really look like it's taken care of very well."

Viola shrugged. "I mean, I get it. It doesn't exactly sound like anyone goes here very often. That's what Mr. Drey said, right, Octavia?"

She knew they were talking. Still, her attention was largely on the lovely rose pressed deep into the same color. She trailed the inlaid insignia with one hesitant fingertip, tracing every curve that dipped beneath her touch. She'd been excited, mostly. With her feet physically upon the platform, it was a different experience altogether.

Each thought that peeked through the newborn fog in her head was equally fuzzy. There was an all-too-solid chance she didn't know what she was doing. Velrose was a shot in the dark, taken solely on instinct to the tune of an absurd amount of Gold. Each glance at the pastel leather kissing her fingers was an echoing reminder of the same whim.

"Octavia."

She jumped, her nails scratching against the leather in the process. The sensation was uncomfortable enough to leave chills tormenting her spine, and she winced.

"S-Sorry, what?" she stammered.

"You okay?" Viola asked gently.

Octavia thought to simply say yes, at least briefly. Instead, she was honest. "I'm just…not sure if this will get us anywhere. I'm worried I made the wrong choice. What if we get to Velrose and there's nothing? What if it's like Drey said, and we can't even get in?"

"Then if nothing else, we followed a lead. We tried, and we ruled something out," she comforted, settling one hand onto Octavia's shoulder.

"And we went somewhere neat in the process," Harper added with a soft smile.

Madrigal beamed. It was a beautiful contribution, versus the pitiful trickle of sunshine that slipped through the slats of the roof.

"First boarding call for the eleven o'clock to Velrose!" she heard well above the continued ambience, still ever-present and overpowering as it was.

"That's us," Harper interrupted.

Madrigal hugged the little pink booklet to her chest with delight. "This design is still so cute! Do we get to keep them after we use them?"

Viola smiled. "That's sorta the point of passports. They'll even give you a stamp, usually. I'm assuming Velrose is the same way."

She assumed it was the conductor she was presenting her precious rosy leather to, for how carefully he inspected the insignia in her outstretched hand. It took her a moment to trail his eyes to her own instead, well past her passport and laced with something almost akin to judgment. She struggled to stand her ground. "Four for Velrose," she offered shakily, never lowering her arm.

The man carefully claimed the booklet from her fingers, and she immediately felt vulnerable. He hardly looked at the barren little pages he leafed through so casually, his eyes on the Maestra alone. "How exactly did four kids your age get your hands on passports to Velrose, of all places?"

"We won them in an auction," she stated plainly, struggling not to shirk beneath his gaze.

When he laughed, she was infinitely more relieved. "That sounds about right. They're always looking to get rid of these things. You can hardly do anything with them. Not sure you're gonna have much luck out there. You sure about going that way? They're really not too kind to strangers."

Octavia chanced one hesitant glance over her shoulder. Where her face offered only apprehension, she could at least steal three flavors of confidence from behind her. Their smiles got one out of her in return, as did the nod from Viola. She inhaled deeply.

"Yeah. We'll take our chances."

It was her fault for truly and thoroughly believing that three days would come and go easily.

It took exactly six hours for second thoughts to settle in. It was not at all for the apprehensive reasons she'd thought she'd find the moment the train rolled its way out of the station and beyond the limits of Coda. Their cabin was cute and comfortable, and Octavia counted at least one blessing in that aspect.

It still left her with three days' worth of painful waiting and contemplation, by which the suspense of the so-called Blessed City was going to eat her alive. It left her with three days' worth of questions she had no feasible way of answering at the moment. It left her with three days' worth of time with the one person infinitely more excited to be here than she was.

"It even comes with sheets! I kinda thought we'd just have to sleep on the mattress. Is that bad? And they're really comfortable! They're nice and soft. They're also firm. Maybe they can be soft and firm at the same time. Is that possible?"

"Please be nice to the sheets," Octavia begged weakly. "I don't know if they'll give us more if we mess them up."

Madrigal was borderline torturing them, frankly. The innocent whites that clung desperately to the bed suffered somewhat beneath her ruthless tugging, and it had only taken six full hours for her to make it to the point of substantial wrinkles. She hadn't even slept yet. Octavia somewhat wished she would.

"And I heard the conductor say there's even somewhere we can bathe here, right?" she continued, absolutely undeterred. "How do they even keep water on trains? Is it hot water? Are we gonna have to take cold baths? I haven't taken a cold bath in awhile."

"It's a steam engine locomotive," Octavia deadpanned. "They've got plenty of hot water, I promise."

"Since when do you know about trains?" Harper asked, kicking his feet lazily against the mattress.

She scoffed. "I know a lot of things. You know nothing of my vast collection of literature."

"So intelligent," he teased, resting his cheek in his palm. "A scholar among us."

She struggled to control her smile. It was impossible. "I'll have you know I happen to be an expert on fungi of all types and a great appreciator of the classics of fiction."

"Mhm, I see," he continued. "Mushrooms, then."

"And lichens, even."

"And magic."

"The lichens?"

"I meant the violin, but I guess that counts."

Madrigal peered up at the top bunk. "What's a lichen?"

Octavia never had the chance to answer. The cabin door slid open, and a Maestra came to a standstill. Her eyes fell to Madrigal immediately. She raised an eyebrow.

"What are you doing with the sheets?"

"Did you have a nice walk?" Harper asked, propping himself up on his elbows.

"It's so empty," she answered. "I walked up and down the length of the whole train and only counted maybe four other passengers."

"That's weird," he offered. "Why so few?"

"I'm assuming it has something to do with how hard it is to get a passport," Viola replied, settling down onto one bed comfortably.

Octavia rested her hands behind her head, throwing her eyes to the ceiling. "Or the fact that no one gets in, apparently."

"When you say no one gets in, do you mean literally? Like, there's a gate up front or something?" Harper asked.

"Not according to Drey," she answered, turning her head to meet his eyes. "Apparently, everyone's just…distant. It's like they don't want company."

Harper shrugged. "Ready or not, we're company."

"Worst-case scenario, they're under a legal obligation to let us in," Viola clarified. "I double-checked at the auction, and passports are the sole requirement to enter Velrose. Even boarding a train with a Velrose passport is enough to qualify. We shouldn't have to actually show it at a gate. We should just be able to walk right off the train--hypothetically."

"What do we do for shelter?" Madrigal tried. She'd switched targets to the pillow, apparently.

"I mean, I would assume they have an inn or something. If they've got merchants or whatever regularly going in and out, there has to be a place they have open for travelers, or it wouldn't really survive as a city. Would it?" Harper tried, his voice touched by uncertainty.

"Drey said he didn't have much luck when he was there," Octavia murmured. "With anything."

"Well, according to you, that guy's interested in coming home with ancient artifacts and stuff, and they're an ancient city. Case closed on that one," he said, stretching comfortably.

"We'll play it by ear," Viola offered. "Let's get where we need to go and work our way up from there."

"Never took you for the improvising type," Harper teased.

"It's contagious," Viola sighed, her eyes flickering to Octavia with a smirk.

"I'm innocent," the accused answered lazily.

Madrigal had, by now, somehow decided that unleashing the brilliance of the setting sun from behind every curtain was a good idea. Octavia closed her eyes for multiple reasons, the least of which was the mild overstimulation that came with overthinking the voyage. She drank in their voices and did what she could to stifle the same creeping suspense that battled to swallow her whole.

At the very least, she was able to test out her mattress the gentle way by comparison to a different Maestra. She found solace in a nap. Given the length of the trip, she had a feeling she'd be doing so often.

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