final adventure

Angus stuffed his knapsack full of his newly sorted supplies and restrapped his tools to the side of his bag, tugging absently to make sure they were secured. He tossed it over his shoulder with a huff, standing up and glowering in the direction of the train as it pulled into the station. He never liked traveling by train. Sometimes, however, it was necessary.

He was setting out on an adventure, much unlike the ones he usually took. Angus pulled the hood of his tattered cloak over his head, his horns poking out on either side. He kept his head down as he pushed past people to reach the line of passengers that formed as the train was prepared to be boarded. 

Angus cast his gaze upward ever so slightly to catch a glimpse of the conductor as he punched tickets. The reason Angus never liked traveling by train stood there with the brightest smile, focused on attending to the next passenger in line. 

He should've expected it, with his luck. Angus cursed under his breath and kept his head down. He wasn’t one for stealth, but sometimes, a life like his own would require it. 

He steeled his nerves when he was the next in line, curling up his tails under his cloak behind him. He could feel the conductor’s eyes on him when he stepped forward, a crumpled ticket already in his outstretched hand, ready to be punched. “Oh, thank you, sir…” 

The waver in his voice was unmistakable, however slight. Angus grimaced to himself, beneath the hood of his cloak. The conductor was just as astute as he remembered him to be, of course he was immediately skeptical of Angus. There was a pause before the conductor asked to check his luggage. Angus shouldered his bag off and dropped it at the conductor's feet with a thump. It kicked up a small cloud of dust on the train platform. 

Angus looked off in the opposite direction as he inspected it briefly, head still down. “Mind if I ask what business you have going to Mt. Bougainvillea with all these supplies? There’s not much exploring to be done there.” 

Angus realized grimly that there were no impatient huffs or hoof tappings happening behind him. He was the last to board at the moment. That would make the questions all the longer. “Just visiting someone. Then I’m on my way off-world.”

There was another pause, long enough for Angus to notice. “...I see,” the conductor mumbled. Despite how his voice had been filled with a genuine curiosity before, it shifted to veiled suspicion in an instant. Before the conductor could ask anymore questions, the train blew its deafening whistle. The conductor beckoned him to board, handing him back his punched ticket and stepping away from his luggage before making his last call for any passengers. Angus could still feel his scrutinizing gaze, but he kept his head down and grabbed his bag, trudging onto the train and going to find a spot where he was least likely to be bothered. 

//

The train headed out not long after Angus sat down. He kept his gaze directed out the window, watching the rolling hills and flowers pass with narrowed eyes. There was a time when he might have pondered how beautiful it was. That time had long gone. 

He couldn't stop a small scowl from forming on his face as he was reminded of why he was taking this trip. The end goal of his final adventure. 

Angus never thought he would go back to his hometown, especially not after how he left. It had been nearly eight years since then. Angus’ scowl became a contemplative frown and he still looked through the window, but only saw his own reflection staring back at him. 

His sister would be the same age that he was when he'd left. He felt a pang that he'd felt many times now, knowing he’d missed out on her becoming the successful woman she is today. 

It was a surprise to Angus when the train started slowing down and the whistle bellowed out overhead. He could see the station coming into view and he still hadn't registered that he arrived.

//

As he stepped off the train, hood still pulled tight over his head while he looked down, he felt a hand lightly brush against his arm. “Excuse me, sir, but… I feel as if I know you.”

Angus fought the urge to look up at the conductor, at Ravi, as he stood there. He tried to imagine his conflicted expression, but the only thing he could picture was Ravi's anguished face from eight years ago when he held onto Angus and begged him not to leave without him. 

“I fear you may be mistaken,” Angus mumbled simply, turning away and being sure his tails were still furled beneath his cloak. “Apologies,” he hastily trotted away, navigating through the crowds of people waiting for trains and saying their goodbyes. 

Angus wanted desperately to do nothing more than look back at Ravi through the hordes, but his back remained turned and his head stayed down as he kept moving forward. 

The town was much different than he remembered, yet also the exact same. Some of the storefronts looked like they hadn't changed in the slightest, while others were drastically different. 

As he hoofed along mainstreet, which was lined with carts of merchandise waiting to be transported, he spotted the grand, yellow and green facade of a boutique with some wonderful pieces of clothing propped in the display window. He wanted to smile to himself, knowing his sister had established such a fine business at her age, though he couldn't bring himself to. All he could remember was the guilt of abandoning her. 

He stopped sparing glances at everything and lowered his head again. Angus picked up his pace. The stores began thinning out and Angus broke off from mainstreet, trekking down a barely visible path that headed out of town. 

The path wasn't as trodden as it used to be. Angus supposed that was a good thing. He kicked up dust as he walked. He pulled the hood of his cloak down when the old, dilapidated house started to come into view. It looked completely abandoned. Ramshackle, unoccupied, devoid of the presence that used to haunt it, that used to leer on the front porch with a pipe stuck between its gnarled fingers and a permanent scowl plastered on its sour face. 

Angus walked past the house, not wanting to enter and relive his most unfortunate memories. Behind his decaying childhood house sat a sad, pathetic mound of dirt with a tilted headstone. There were no flowers planted around the grave and the grass surrounding the patch of dirt that encased Angus’ father seemed more yellow than the grass elsewhere in the overgrown back lawn. 

He stood tall at the end of the grave, his expression wiped completely blank. The presence still lingered, Angus could feel it. “You don't scare me anymore, old man,” he muttered, eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Angus felt a slow surge of relief overtake him as he stared at the tombstone. This would be his last adventure for a long while.