The day had long given into night though in the Refinery, time shifts never announced themselves. Gideon felt that it was night though the sky burned with the amber glow of dusk. Many moons hung low in it, waxing and waning their way to the end. The platform carried all manner of creature, adventurer, and drunkard. The lesser sorcerers forced to guard the platforms from stowaways and criminals just like himself, tried to blend in with the crowds. But Gideon read their auras- pallid creams with plaited greens; boredom and ire interwoven.

It had taken Gideon more time than he had thought to dress the Captain's large frame. No matter the layer, a man in full blown pirate garb, would always attract attention. And Gideon didn't need more eyes on him. The clothes he wore now were small and constrictive, but they fulfilled their purposes well enough. The eyes of the guards were not on him.

He stood by a post, the Captain's large hands fumbling around in a coat pocket two sizes too small, looking for his tin of smokes. Green light tinted his skin and under their shadow, Gideon lit the cigarette without a match. It was a gamble but one he was willing to take considering it involved one of the few things he loved.

The guards' eyes didn't shift. Instead they held firmly to the west; a woman of the East Down stood on the platform with braided blond hair, blue eyes, a pink satin petticoat and dress. Women of the East Down, which was south of the Right Pass, had been given the purpose  to allure and this one was fulfilling that purpose perfectly. Gideon was thankful for the beautiful little succubus that had made him invisible.

After two smokes, Gideon reached a hand to his face to make sure his eyes weren't leaking again; that would have been most unfortunate. Next to him stood a family of Frecks and two abyss eaters. There was no set time for the train that traveled the realms. It arrived when it was supposed to and left in the same regard. Gideon shifted his weight; the cowboy boots he had stolen from a roadside drunk tight on the Captain's feet.

Gideon was never anxious, but he felt that way in spite of himself; he had to get back into Reason. The platform was littered with wanted posters spoiled with poor renditions of Gideon's likeness. He grimaced as he saw these and at the reward the Council was offering for any information. He was one of the most well known of the Refracted and yet the reward was so minimal in girth. He felt offense.

Upon the horizon, he saw lights of green tinting the rocky alcoves of the Refinery. On either side of the train- which rode upon rails that weren't fastened to anything but the air- he saw the high stone walls of the labyrinth. And inside those walls, he could see the fading auras of the dying, the wisps of auras of the dead, and the cyan and chartreuse auras of the mad.

The train lurched to a stop in front of the platform and a creature wearing  conductor's garb, stepped out, beckoning for the masses to form orderly lines as he performed the color check. He had rows of yellowed, teeth sharpened into fine tips; arrowheads ready to pierce the flesh of those whose colors were muddled. He was a being of taste. And he would taste each passenger's color and gauge whether or not they could book passage on the train.

This was the part that bred that curdled feeling of anxiety inside of Gideon. Creatures of sense were very true to their purposes and they would discover what needed to be discovered. A color check was something even Gideon Darqish couldn't pervert. The conductor stood speechless as each passenger stood before it, their hands intertwined with the creature's as it sought out their color.

This type of magic was close to what Gideon could do but lacked his sophistication. Although what it lacked it made up for in raw power. The family of Frecks stood next to Gideon, in a line meant for the smaller, more animalistic creatures that sought passage.

The woman of the East Down was in front of the conductor now; its face peeled all the way back, showing all its many teeth. As it grabbed the girl's hand, it let out a snarl and the guards- reluctantly- were on her. Her color had been darkened- this was reflected in the patches of black that wove their way around the peach of her aura- and she was ushered to the side of the platform, orange wisps of binding keeping her in place until she was carted off to the layer's most sinister prison, The Rose and Relinquished.

A bead of sweat formed on Gideon's brow. He despised its presence because it shouted of vulnerability. He used the Captain's rough hand to flick it away as he watched the next in line meet its fate. The abyss eater's color held true- black and empty- and he was welcomed on board. Gideon was next.

He trudged towards the conductor, his anxiety thinly veiled. The creature motioned for Gideon to place his hands in his own. He placed the Captain's hands in the creature's and watched his face peel back,  his mouth taking in the Captain's color. Gideon felt his aura close by. He needed to get on the train before it made its way back to him. The creature tightened his grip on Gideon's hands and for a moment, Gideon's chest squeezed. Then the creature returned its face and turned its two yellow eyes onto Gideon.

"You read clear. You new here?" the conductor asked, a lisp on his words from his many many sets of teeth. Gideon sighed.

"You could say that," he replied, the worst over.

"Welcome aboard the Reizen," the conductor said smiling, an arm ushering Gideon aboard.

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Gideon had spent hours on board  the Reizen without a hitch. He was grateful that Captain Stormholden held no color. He had thought he might not. That he, like newborns, would have their coloring; one clear and endless. The boy had been right and now he sat riding to Reason, his first visit since he had been a child.

Gideon found the train's bar and pleased that the Captain looked of drinking age, purchased himself a couple shots of Dusky Star whiskey. It was smooth and coppery and sand-less. The body of the pirate was finally starting to have its perks.

The train sputtered miserably as it ran along its rickety, older than creation, railings. It had left the Refinery and headed toward Renewal. He sat third row coach. Uninspired knotted pine boards ran the length of the car; they were neither polished or stained. Instead, they cracked and warped, the car looking askew. The seats were of the same wood, upholstered with a horrid swatch of red velvet- equally as uninspired- that covered lumpy, worn cushions.

There was nothing to keep your interest inside the car- except for the liquor- and Gideon grew bored. It had been a long time since he had ridden the train, but the memories he held of it weren't so plain. Maybe that was because he had eyed the train with naivety back then and because of the possibilities it presented, he had found it beautiful. But Gideon Darqish was older, his eyes full of the know, and the train had weathered poorly from what his memories recalled. Outside, he saw the auburn sky of the Refinery fading behind them, the calming whites and pastels of the Renewal ahead. He hated the Renewal.

Gideon wished he could speed up time, or just move himself to Reason, but impatience would breed disaster and so he did what he hated, and waited. He knew Peneloper had watched him board the train. He had felt her curiosity peak, saw that lavender aura of hers punctuated with the orange dimpling of questions. If only she had reached her hand into the portal; he could have brought her to him.

But something in her aura spoke of danger and she had let the train pass, the portal disappear. He sighed, another smoke out of the canister being rolled between his fingertips. He reached into his shirt pocket and grabbed a pack of matchsticks, pulling one away from the others, lighting his cigarette the way unalarming sorts would do. He made sure to exhale though the smoke never bothered him.

He glanced out the tiny oval window that showed the ethereal white that cloaked the Renewal. At all times the layer was blanketed in a thick fog that smelled of cream, clove and honey, and which made it impossible to see your fingertips when held in front of your face. Here, annoying  winged busybodies flitted about, helping those who needed their renewal services.

Through the fog, a giant city of crystal towers emerged, the train's tracks weaving its way through the buildings where the angels guided spirits to their next lives. For all of Renewal's magic-of which there was an almost unlimited amount- the layer was very much a bureaucracy. There were lines, lines to the lines, and suites filled with leather seats, horrible fluorescent lighting, and re-purposed computers.

The business of ferrying spirits and offering up advice to those who sought it was very demanding. Out of necessity, the layer bred strict order, efficiency, and organization. It was too rigid a layer for Gideon to enjoy and so he hoped their stint in it would be minimal.

Not much had changed since he was last in Renewal. A few more crystal towers dotted the sky scape and there seemed to be more clocks holding the times of the places in Reason. Everything seemed sharper, the
fog  maintained with precision by a dedicated bunch of busy Grayflys. They  were constantly flying about, brooms of deadwood brushing away the fog to keep transportation going without a hitch. Angels swarmed about, some hurrying spirits to Filing to be re-purposed while others were whispering in the ears of the sleeping, giving advice they may have sought out.

The Yggdrasil grew in the dead center of the city, saplings of it sprouting up throughout the city, feeding on the magic, digging their  roots in deep. Gideon had tried many times to burn down the tree and its saplings but he could never get all of the tree. Its leaves were golden now, its bark smooth, light brown with etchings of the eldest tongue marking the bark. It smelled of fire- the scent of renewal- and Gideon could hear the old tree's heartbeat, a low pulsating hum that sang out to him from every layer.

The train came to a stop as it pulled up to the platform in the Renewal and the conductor made his way to the double doors. He would be checking their coloring just as he had done in the Refinery. The platform held mostly spirits- common for Renewal- and a few Angels seeking to aid humans from within Reason. Gideon sighed, Peneloper's aura filling his mind, his need to see her growing.

"Soon enough," he said, pressing another bluish gray pill in between his lips, keeping close attention to maintain his colors.