Chapter 3 — Train
And thus begins Chapter Three.
Now, children.
The day arrived.
Kanyakumari.
Nyx’s hometown.
The place where,
according to him,
the good shit lived.
The council nods.
Transportation?
Train.
Tickets?
Children.
Logistics belonged to Nyx.
I paid.
He handled everything else.
A beautiful arrangement.
One person understands bookings.
One person possesses money.
Everyone contributes.
The council looks toward me.
Mostly.
We entered the train.
Found our seats.
Settled in.
And then
darkness.
The council pauses.
Fast Travel?
Apparently.
Children.
Perhaps the earliest Fast Travel in the Archive.
But I am officially retiring phrases like:
the first.
the last.
the definitive.
the earliest.
Memory has developed a personal vendetta against those words.
The council applauds.
Wise.
So let us call it:
an ancient Fast Travel.
Train begins.
Nuo sleeps.
Train stops somewhere else.
Nuo awakens.
Reliable technology.
And when I stepped out
Kanyakumari.
The council looks toward Story Nuo.
Children.
I beamed.
Immediately.
Excitement barely contained.
Not because I had arrived at some great destination I had dreamed of seeing.
Not because of the ocean.
Not because of history.
Not because this was the southern end of anything.
No.
Quest marker.
Somewhere in this town
weed.
The council sighs.
Such cultural appreciation.
I was a simple creature.
Nyx knew where we were going.
Nyx knew what we were getting.
And after pestering him for long enough to make an entire journey happen,
the moment had finally arrived.
I wanted the quest.
Now.
Immediately.
But first
house.
The council groans sympathetically.
Yes.
Nyx’s home.
We went there.
Put down our luggage.
The council freezes.
Luggage?
Children.
Yes.
Actual luggage.
Behold an ancient version of Nuo.
Before I discovered the revolutionary travel philosophy of:
Why carry things when other humans possess things?
At this point,
I packed.
Clothes.
Whatever normal people packed.
Potentially toiletries.
Children.
A functioning traveller.
Briefly.
The council takes a photograph for historical preservation.
We entered.
And there
Nyx’s mother.
I greeted her.
She greeted me.
Pleasantries.
Conversation.
Normal human interaction.
Children.
Externally?
Polite.
Engaged.
Smiling.
Answering questions.
Listening.
The image of a respectful guest.
Internally?
Please stop talking.
Please stop talking.
Please stop talking.
Can we go get high now?
The council looks scandalized.
Children.
Yes.
Not my finest internal monologue.
Perhaps disrespectful.
But
thoughts.
Only thoughts.
And in my highly questionable moral framework of the era:
If the person cannot hear the disrespect,
did disrespect truly occur?
The council immediately objects.
Philosophically indefensible.
Probably.
But convenient.
So I smiled.
Nodded.
Answered.
Performed social functionality.
While some tiny goblin inside my head repeatedly pointed toward the door.
WEED QUEST.
WEED QUEST.
WEED QUEST.
The council laughs.
Eventually
freedom.
Pleasantries concluded.
Nyx probably said whatever sentence people say before leaving home.
We stepped outside.
And children
transportation changed.
The train had brought us to Kanyakumari.
But the next leg belonged to
The Impulse.
The council turns dramatically.
Nyx’s bike.
Hero Honda Impulse.
Children.
Magnificent.
Not merely a bike.
A hybrid creature.
City road?
Fine.
Broken road?
Fine.
Dirt?
Interested.
Something between a normal motorcycle and an off road machine.
The council nods.
A glorious stallion.
Nyx mounted.
I climbed onto the back.
And unlike future transportation disasters,
I had absolutely no responsibility.
Beautiful.
Trust Companion Protocol:
ACTIVE.
Nyx knows road.
Nyx drives.
Nuo sits.
The council smiles.
Royalty.
Almost.
I held on.
Engine started.
And off we went.
Children.
Toward the dealer’s house.
The quest had become wonderfully literal now.
No metaphor.
No mystery.
No philosophy.
There was a man.
The man had weed.
We were going to the man.
The council opens the objective tracker.
ARRIVE KANYAKUMARI.
Complete.
GREET MOTHER WITHOUT REVEALING IMPATIENCE.
Mostly complete.
MOUNT IMPULSE.
Complete.
ACQUIRE WEED.
Pending.
And I remember the excitement.
That specific novice excitement.
Because this was not just:
We’re going to smoke.
I had never smoked weed before.
The entire experience existed only through other people’s descriptions.
Nyx’s stories.
Rumours.
The vague mythology around being high.
Children.
I knew cigarettes.
I knew alcohol.
Those worlds were mapped.
This one?
Blank.
And blank things have always been dangerous around me.
The council nods knowingly.
I wanted to know.
What does it feel like?
What changes?
Why does Nyx care about quality so much?
Why was my first time apparently important enough to require a train journey?
The council leans forward.
And perhaps most importantly
how good can it be?
The council sighs.
Still tempting fate.
Story Nuo remained confident.
The Impulse moved through Kanyakumari.
Road beneath us.
Nyx ahead.
Me behind.
Destination known only to him.
And I simply followed.
No maps.
No directions.
No questions.
Because before wandering became a philosophy,
my travel system was extremely simple.
Companion knows.
Follow companion.
The council nods.
And at this stage,
Nyx had become more than roommate.
He was guide.
Gatekeeper.
The man introducing me to a world I had only heard about.
That sounds dramatic now.
Children.
At the time?
I was probably thinking:
Hurry up.
The council laughs.
But the feeling remains.
Anticipation.
Every turn felt closer.
Every road felt like it might be the one.
Eventually Nyx slowed.
Somewhere ahead
dealer.
The council grows quiet.
And suddenly,
the quest that had existed for weeks as:
Someday.
was becoming:
Now.
Children.
Pre Drugs Nuo was about to meet his first dealer.
And no,
not Sharky.
Different era.
Different road.
Different origin.
No titles yet.
No ritual.
No Archivist.
No philosophy.
Just an impatient college idiot
on the back of an Impulse,
heading toward a stranger’s house
because his roommate had finally agreed to answer one question.
How good can it be?
Thus concludes Chapter Three.
The Ancient Fast Travel.
The Luggage Era Nuo.
The Polite Guest Performance.
The Internal Weed Goblin.
The Impulse.
And The Final Ride Toward The Quest.
Children.
Kanyakumari had been reached.
Nyx’s mother had been successfully greeted.
The chariot had changed from train to motorcycle.
And somewhere ahead
the dealer’s house.
