"The Mysterious Unknown"

The Nameless Encounter

It’s often said that a person’s name is the first thing you learn about them, but in my case, that wasn’t true. The man sitting across from me on the train had a lot to share, but he never told me his name. He was a mystery, wrapped in stories and unanswered questions, and I couldn’t help but be intrigued.

He had short, strawberry-red hair, with curls that made it puff up like a cloud on top of his head. His eyes were focused on the countryside as we passed through it, scanning the rolling hills, trees, and fields. The train was on its way to Dalten City, and it seemed like he was lost in thought about something.

“Exciting, you know, coming home and all,” he said, repeating the same thing he had said earlier when I asked where he was going. I found it strange how often he brought it up, yet he never mentioned much about his actual journey.

“Yeah, you’ve said that,” I replied, a little impatient by now. The man’s tendency to avoid my questions about his name was starting to wear thin. Every time I asked, he’d give the same vague response about coming home, but nothing more.

Laughter filled the train carriage, but it wasn’t mocking or sarcastic. It was the kind of laugh that told me he knew he was being a little silly, and he was okay with that. “So I have,” he admitted. “But it’s true. I moved away when I was very young after my mom died. My dad didn’t think he could raise me, so he sent me to my grandparents.”

I thought I had finally found a chance to get more information. “What did you say their names were?” I asked, eager to get a clue about who he was. Anything, at this point, would help.

“That’s a boring detail,” he shrugged. His tone made it clear that he didn’t think it was worth sharing. “Besides, you lose the magic of people when you learn their names,” he added, waving his hand as if it didn’t matter.

I raised an eyebrow. “But how do you remember someone if you don’t know their name?”

“There’s a lot to remember about people,” he said. “If you never see them again, what’s the point in wasting your mind space on a pointless face?”

This conversation was going in circles. I rolled my eyes. He was avoiding my questions, but he still had so many stories to tell. Yet, despite all the things he shared, he refused to give me a single detail that would let me figure out who he was.

I tried again, hoping for something. “You said you’re coming back to live with your father since your grandparents passed?”

“Yep,” he replied, his voice flat again, as if he didn’t really want to dive deeper into it. I felt the conversation slipping away once more.

Then, almost as if to change the subject, I said, “Dalten School of High Magic. That’s where I’m going.”

His eyes sparkled with recognition. “There’s still the exam you’ll need to pass,” he pointed out, giving me a small smile.

“That won’t be a problem. I’ll pass it!” I said, filled with determination. I had no doubt I would pass, not with all the studying and preparation I had put in. I made a fist in front of me, a gesture of confidence. The train slowed as it approached the city, and we both turned to look out the window, admiring the countryside as it transitioned to the towering city walls ahead.

We fell silent for a moment, listening to the hum of the train. The rolling hills faded into a dark tunnel as the train passed through the city wall, the air growing thicker with the weight of the city beyond. As we emerged from the tunnel, the city opened up before us—tall buildings, bustling streets, and people everywhere. It was a stark contrast to the peaceful countryside we had just left behind.

“Listen for me, I’ll be rooting for your success,” he said, standing up to gather his things. My eyes followed him, distracted by the changing scenery.

“But how will you know who to root for?” I asked, my frustration creeping in again. “You don’t even know my name.”

“Train girl,” he smiled down at me, offering me my bag. “That’s what I’ll call you. And when you pass, we’ll trade names.”

I couldn’t help but smile at his playful tone. “Deal then. When I pass, you give me your name. No games,” I said, my resolve firm. I was determined to pass the exam, and now there was even more reason to make sure I succeeded.

“No games,” he agreed with a nod. His gaze met mine, and for a brief moment, I felt something stir inside me—something about the way he looked at me, with those rich green eyes, seemed to make the whole world feel more alive.

He turned to leave, and I reached for my bag, my fingers brushing against his as he handed it over. My eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, but before I could say anything more, he was lost in the crowd, vanishing from sight.

And just like that, he was gone.

I sat back down in my seat, the city now in full view. His words echoed in my mind. Train girl. It wasn’t much of a name, but it was something. And it was enough to push me forward. I would pass the exam. I had to. Because when I did, I’d get his name.