23 - Golden Whistle
Content Warning: Graphic descriptions of a dead body
"I couldn't break free of those zombies sir! I would've come earlier but- but-!"
"It's alright Godred," Sir Robert said kindly to the panicking man. "We'll find a way to free Great Northern if we can-"
"No sir it's Flying Scotsman! He saved Great Northern and gave himself to Mallard!"
"He what!?" Henry Stainer suddenly shouted and Sir Robert looked equally as alarmed.
"Mallard has him! He has Scotsman! He's killing him!" Godred cried out uncharacteristically frightened. "Great Northern is free but he can't get out, his leg is broken and he can't walk!"
Godred had seen a lot in his years, but he'd never seen anything quite like Mallard. Just being near the damn engine made him feel sick. Like a festering illness leaked out of the blue engine's boiler and infected everything around him.
Olivia had called ahead saying that Flying Scotsman had gone missing and was most probably headed for the castle to rescue Truro from Mallard but they had assumed that he wouldn't get to Sodor for many hours yet.
On the other side of the shed, Green Arrow grew nervous and frightened.
He sure as hell didn't like Flying Scotsman, but he was in debt to the engine for saving him from becoming a permanent exhibit in the museum, a fate worse than death in his opinion. And the way Truro spoke of Scotsman… the Great Western would be devastated.
He looked at the City Class engine that sat still and silent next to him, peaceful sleep, his front wheels were still somewhat mangled from rescuing Pendennis.
He knew that part of the reason why City of Truro loved Arrow's company was that it eased the separation anxiety, Truro often felt when being apart from Scotsman for periods time. Green Arrow secretly wished he had someone he could miss like that.
For as much as people joked and taunted him about being a smaller version of Flying Scotsman, Green Arrow was the spitting image of him in both looks and performance.
"Sir," Arrow hesitantly said and the Earl and Director looked at him. "If Scotsman's human form dies, what will happen to his soul? Will it go back into his engine?"
The two glanced at each other nervously before Sir Robert shook his head.
"No, no it will not go back into his engine," Sir Robert explained, his voice shaky. "He will just die. His soul is bonded to that body. We know this because engines who have taken this form have always died when their human body does."
Green Arrow looked frightened now and he glanced at City of Truro.
If Scotsman died… there was every possibility that Truro would simply give up and fade away from his engine.
"We have to save Scotsman sir," Green Arrow declared. "I think Truro wouldn't hang on if he knew all his efforts were in vain."
Stainer nodded. "I agree. Scotsman and Truro are extremely devoted to each other and the fact Truro was willing to give his life for Scotsman was proof of that."
"We can't go barging in, the black smoke-" Sir Robert began but he was interrupted by Godred.
"Mallard's using all of his Black Smoke just to try and smother Scotsman," he explained. "I think Mallard's weak now, he didn't expect so much Gold Dust I don't think. It's how I was able to escape, he lost control of his puppets."
"Interesting," Sir Robert said curiously. "Maybe there's a chance."
Green Arrow blasted steam in response.
"I'll happily confront Mallard once again sir," he proclaimed and Sir Robert smiled. "I am not afraid of the big blue duck."
"I do think a little improv is required right about now don't you agree Stainer?" The Earl said and the director looked at him like he was insane.
"I suppose we don't have any other choice do we?"
"Certainly not."
To say Duck was beyond fed up with this new 'Great Western Railway' engine would be an understatement. It was a miracle how he had kept his composure during the trip along his branch line with the young entitled and whining engine.
Never before had Duck wanted to bump another engine off of the rail than he did with the young Tydfil. Not even Diesel had managed to elicit such levels of rage or annoyance out of him and that was saying something.
Speaking of said Class 08.
"Oh look another useless out-of-date steamie cluttering our rails!" Diesel oiled with a snide grin.
"For once," Duck spat out bitterly. "I'd have to agree with you on that one."
Diesel stared at Duck, very confused.
Duck had never agreed to one of his insults before and it was clear from the expression on the Pannier's face that he was more than fed up with the larger engine double-heading with him.
"You should be going little engine!" The female engine snapped in a shrill voice that made Diesel wince. "I don't want to be late for the blue king!"
"You should be less worried about what King Edward II thinks and be more worried about what I think of you, young engine," Duck snapped angrily.
The young engine didn't respond, she only gave a huff and stuck her nose up at Duck. Duck looked more than fed up and didn't reprimand her.
"Even the steamers right out of the works are just that useless," Diesel cackled. Duck just glared at Diesel and said engine smirked at him.
Duck was about to retort when he saw a little saddle tank in a dark green livery trundling down the line towards them. It wasn't Percy. This one had a more worn and grumpy look about them and a constant scowl.
"Oi! Get out the way will ya?" The engine shouted. "Typical Class 8, standing round doing bloody nothing."
Diesel looked extremely insulted but the little saddle tank paid him no mind.
"Another small little tank engine to get in the way!" Diesel sneered but the little saddle tank was having none of it.
He instead biffed right into Diesel sending him a surprising way down the line.
"I may be lil but I ain't intimidated by the likes of a common Class 08!" The engine snapped. "Be off with ya you bloody waste of space!"
Diesel looked utterly shocked and speechless. He stared at the Saddle tank dumbfounded by what had just happened.
"What?!" He shouted half to himself and half to the steam engines around him but they all ignored him. He gave a puff of oily smoke before going on his way with an angry scowl.
"A bit harsh to compare all class 8's to him," Duck cut in. "Most of that class I know are hard workers, he's just an exception."
The saddle tank raised an eyebrow before giving a snort of mirth.
"Well, it ain't proper to be sitting out on the middle of the line like that you know," The saddle tank huffed.
"I agree," Duck grinned. "I would never find such things on the Great Western."
The saddle tank raised an eyebrow.
"Oh ay," he agreed. "Such incompetence. Tydfil you best be upholding the Great Western way or Pendennis will be giving ya an earful."
The young engine in question just humphed and ignored him. The saddletank gave a tut of disapproval.
"Dear me," the Saddle Tank sighed. He then noticed the GWR painted on Duck's side. "A Pannier, nice to see you still in our green and running around."
"Name's Montague," Duck smiled. "But everyone calls me Duck."
The saddle tank widened his eyes in recognition.
"Truro's favourite Pannier?" He asked.
"Favourite? I hardly think that's true," Duck dismissed.
"The old man doesn't shut up about you if Sodor gets brought up," The saddle tank explained. "Name's Trojan by the way. Work up at Didcot with the big ol bastards."
Duck grinned brilliantly at the engine. It was nice to see a smaller great western on the rails. As much as Duck adored the bigger higher ranking Great Westerns, he was happy to see a lower-class engine that showed the comradery and the companionship of the working bees like his old crew at Paddington.
"It's nice to see another working-class engine like Oliver and myself around," Duck enthused.
"Name's Hywell," The saddle tank introduced himself with an approving smile of Duck. "But people call me Trojan."
Duck smiled. He was about to exchange more pleasantries when he felt Tydfil shove him from behind.
"Why are you stupid little engines talking to each other? You're so annoying! Let's go! Rhion is waiting!" She snapped annoyed.
Almost immediately, Duck and Trojan's faces went white as a sheet. Trojan's expression turned furious while Duck's was one of complete and utter shock.
"You DO NOT say the true name of a high-class engine young lady!" Trojan shouted at her sternly and angrily. "He is referred to as 'King Edward the Second' and NEVER by name. Do you understand me? Using a King Class's real name is a great insult!"
"It's stupid!" Lady of Legend shrieked angrily. "You're all so wrapped up in your rules! Always insisting on doing it 'the Great Western Way!' I bet you'll get all uppity if I call Pendennis, Beynon or the Green King as Merfyn!"
Duck looked aghast. To be so flippant with the name of the high-ranking engine was inexcusable.
In Great Western tradition, one didn't typically refer to a high-class engine such as a City, King or Castle by their name if you were even lucky to know them.
Names on the Great Western were considered powerful symbols. Every engine had a number, and the important ones had titles, but your name was only ever shared with those closest to you. Engines like Truro, King George and Pendennis all had names, but almost no one knew them. To use them or speak them to others without their permission was considered an insult.
Even the King classes didn't know Truro's name, he was that important of an engine to the remaining Great Westerns.
"How dare you," Duck fumed, answering. "How dare you disrespect our ways you naive young engine!"
"You have crossed a line that the King Class's will not forgive you for young Tydfil," Trojan warned. "You will be lucky to even be welcomed back in their presence for such disregard of their trust."
Lady of Legend merely upturned her nose at Trojan.
"They'll forgive me, you'll see," she argued arrogantly. "You're just little engines stuck in the past, the King classes will always be proud of me and they're going to show me off to this City of Truro with pride, unlike you scrappy little things."
Duck looked worried and Trojan looked completely furious.
"I admit, Pendennis and I have been hard on ye for the longest time, but make my words girly, you just made a cardinal sin of the Great Western's," Trojan warned. "I wouldn't be surprised if one of them got Lode Star to come up to Didcot to school you from now on."
Duck visibly winched. Lode Star wasn't exactly known to be a kind teacher from what he had heard of her.
Lady of Legend just huffed indignantly, believing herself untouchable.
Duck and Trojan glanced at each other worriedly.
The young engine would be in for a rude awakening.
Great Northern barely heard Mallard cackling behind him like a maniac. He just sat beside Scotsman's cold limp body as it lay twisted and broken on the ground, his blank, soulless white eyes and slack face staring up at his old brother, searing the image into his mind.
He just sat there, completely numb and empty. His mind simultaneously raced with thoughts while just being blank. All sensations in his body drifted away, the longer he stared at Scotsman's limp form.
Despite everything, whenever he tried to help his brother he always failed. He always ended up hurting Scotsman when he thought he was helping when they had been engines.
Now his actions had gotten his beloved brother killed.
Was he cursed? Was this always going to happen?
Great Northern didn't know, he was just aware that Mallard had started hissing steam and the ice-cold presence that permeated the room was now gone, replaced with warmth.
He felt Gold Dust rising and filling the room. The once freezing cold room was now a burning sauna and North couldn't ignore Mallard now, the heat was becoming truly unbearable.
He turned away from his brother's body to look at Mallard.
Mallard was practically glowing with golden energy. His eyes blared with golden light and even his steam was mixed with golden sparkles.
Before Mallard had been hidden in the gloom, his appearance had almost had a shadow over it, even when his coat was spotless and the exhibition light shone on him, one could tell there was something about him that was off. Like he was covered in invisible soot that tarnished him in the eyes of the viewer.
Now he shone brilliantly like a gloss had been placed over him and he shone as if he was his own light source.
"My soul! I finally have my soul back!" Mallard claimed gleefully, his voice shrill. "The endless darkness that shrouded me for decades is finally gone!"
For decades, Sir Nigel and several gold dust wardens had tried again and again to restore Mallard's soul. They had come to the agreement that it was impossible, however, it had taken the life of Gresley's chosen engine to restore it.
Mallard shook the two lifeless puppets off his footplate and they both fell out of his cab with a sickening crunch and a dull thud.
Using his newfound soul, Mallard moved forward with his own automation, no steam turning his wheels, full control of his regulator.
He marvelled at the ability to move without a crew, without even steam in his boiler. It felt like he was running hot but the sensation was strangely pleasant. He opened his valves and instead of steam, Gold Dust showered from the valves, blasting North with a strange warm blast.
"All this time, Scotsman could to do this and he never used it?" Mallard asked incredulously. "How pathetic!"
Great Northern said nothing, he just clutched Scotsman's body tighter to him as he curled himself protectively around it.
Mallard leered over him with a wicked smile, rolling forward with malicious purpose.
"Look at you, the pathetic cowering old man who was once Sir Gresley's confidant," Mallard sneered. "Now reduced to a pathetic human with his engine scrapped cradling the body of his equally pathetic brother."
Great Northern didn't even have the strength to defend himself, not after his actions had caused the murder of his brother.
"Scotsman was not pathetic," was all he could manage but Mallard only gave a low laugh from deep within his voicebox.
"Perhaps not, not at least in the early days," Mallard admitted and North was surprised at the admission. "Looking back at his and my own memories, it was always you that was the problem between us."
"You cannot blame me for your own actions of continuously trying to scrap Scotsman," North said coldly.
"Oh but I can!" Mallard pressed seeing he had struck a nerve. "Scotsman tried to be my friend but you always told me I was weaker than him, that I would never beat him, I was always the lesser engine compared to him. Can you not see how my hatred towards him is your fault?"
North knew that Mallard was poking and prodding him, trying to get a rise, trying to cause North even more grief as he sat over his brother's limp body. He knew that it was just Mallard trying to manipulate him, get him to do something stupid but his words held truth.
He had always considered Mallard inferior to Scotsman, constantly demeaning the A4, hurling insults at him or in general being nasty to the young engine. There never had been any excuse for his actions especially when Scotsman himself had called him out on it many times.
He bowed his head and avoided Mallard's gaze as best as he could. Mallard saw his reaction and gave a low chuckle.
"I guess this is your reward for all your hard work for shaping me into the fine engine I am," he sneered. "In the end I was always stronger than that weak, pathetic crybaby and here I am, claiming his Golden Soul for my own."
"You weren't stronger than him," North muttered. "You struggled. I saw you struggle, he almost smothered you."
Mallard frowned at North and then narrowed his eyes.
"I killed him!" Mallard shouted angrily. "I snapped his neck right in front of you! He is dead!"
"Flying Scotsman will never die," North said confidently. "I am sorry for constantly comparing you against him. It was wrong of me and should have known better, but you really think there won't be consequences for what you've done? For killing the beloved icon of steam?"
"You say you're sorry yet you immediately compare me to Scotsman again," Mallard snorted, deeply annoyed. "You never learnt your lesson. You never changed North, no matter how much you convinced Sir Nigel that you did."
North bowed his head and turned away from Mallard realising his error.
"Perhaps I haven't," North admitted. "But you too are still a childish, angry and hateful engine. And it's clear that even though your soul is restored, you're still cruel, vengeful and full of darkness."
Mallard hissed gold dust from his valves in an attempt to intimidate North but the man held his ground, his arms wrapped around Scotsman's limp form.
Mallard gazed down at the body.
Regret briefly flashed in his burning golden eyes as he gazed down at his cousin. The memories of their youth fresh in his mind.
He could understand if the young Scotsman had given his soul up for him. In the early days, they'd spoken amicably, Scotsman had given him advice on how to break his record. Once, Mallard had even considered befriending him had North not come in and destroyed that.
Yet after all this time, dragging Scotsman to a scrapyard, trying to convince his owners to leave him overseas, manipulating humans to scrap him, taking his beloved Truro hostage and nearly killing him, Scotsman had given his soul up to save him.
He didn't understand it.
Mallard frowned and glared at the limp body.
"This is just like you," he spat angrily. "Always had to have the moral high ground didn't you?"
He glared at the body now, North noticing the venom in Mallard's eyes pushed it from the A4's view and guarded it as best he could despite his broken leg.
Mallard gave a soft snort.
"He's dead you fool, he's not coming back," the blue engine smirked. "He-"
Mallard's face suddenly fell as he realised that the Scotsman's engine still existed.
"That bastard! He tricked me! He probably went back into his engine!" Mallard hissed. "I need to destroy the engine too!"
North went pale.
"No- you can't don't-" North pleaded but Mallard ignored him.
Mallard moved to barge through the engine entrance of the museum but he was suddenly stopped as an engine suddenly came out of nowhere and slammed itself into his buffers with great strength.
He raised an eyebrow surprised but grinned as he saw who it was.
"Green Arrow, back so soon my little friend?" He asked teasingly. "Why don't you go back and attend to your little Great Western friend rather than play with the big boys?"
"Shut up!" Green Arrow shouted. He pushed back, surprising Mallard with his strength. Even with his breaks on, Mallard was being forced back by the smaller engine.
"Where's Flying Scotsman?!" Arrow snapped at Mallard.
"Since when do you care about that 'overhyped attention-seeking harlot' I seem to remember you calling him," Mallard inquired and Arrow glared at him.
"Unlike you, Scotsman actually gave a shit about me," Arrow snapped. "I hated his guts and yet he saved me from becoming an exhibit like your sorry ass!"
Mallard frowned at Arrow.
He didn't like being reminded that for many years he had stood as an exhibit in the grand hall of the museum at York.
"Where is Scotsman!" Arrow shouted again, furious.
Mallard gave him a cruel grin.
"Why, he's right over there with his pathetic brother," Mallard cooed to Arrow sweetly. "I may have accidentally broken him however, those human bodies are just so fragile, my mistake."
A look of dread overcame Arrow as he stared into Mallard's face, his face filled with mirth almost daring him to look at Scotsman.
Slowly Arrow looked over and saw the limp, broken body cradled in Great Northern's arms.
Arrow's eyes widened in horror.
They'd been too late. Mallard had killed him and taken his soul.
Taking advantage of Arrow's distraction, Mallard pushed back against him, trying to push him out of the way so that Mallard could leave.
Arrow however quickly shook himself out of his shock and slammed his brakes on halting Mallard in his tracks.
"Asshole!" Arrow shouted at him. "You won't get past me! You'll be decommissioned for this! Ms Olivia will have your regulator for this!"
Mallard laughed and tried to push Arrow but the small engine was surprisingly strong and held fast.
"Get out of the way, you pathetic, weak little engine!" Mallard shouted at him.
"I'm not pathetic and I'm not weak!" Green Arrow shouted at him angrily. "My class has always been a match for you bigger engines! And I will prove it!"
To Mallard's shock, Arrow began to push back against Mallard, forcing him to put on his brakes which ground against his wheels, showering the rails in sparks.
Even with his strength and the Gold Dust assisting him Mallard was getting beaten by this smaller V2 much to his horror.
Maybe it had been his lack of motion in the past decade. Yes, that had to be it. There was just no way that a smaller engine like Arrow could dare push him back.
Mallard tried to call on the black smoke.
To his horror or maybe his delight, there was no black smoke.
His way of controlling humans and putting literal fear into the other engines was simply, gone.
"Stop!" Mallard shouted at Arrow. "You little insect, stop!"
Mallard saw people suddenly approaching the two engines, wheel clamps and restraining bolts in tow, ready to freeze him in place until Lady Olivia Gresley came to deal with him.
Fear flooded Mallard's boiler.
He didn't want to face Sir Gresley's granddaughter. He didn't want her to see him like this. The woman would disown him, would take his record from him and cast him from the Gresley honour roll.
It would bring shame to him. To his name and most importantly, his designer's legacy.
He struggled against Arrow but even though the little engine was now going red in the face, his strength had not once faulted.
He felt the gold dust swarming around his new soul, filling him with unnatural strength and power.
"Clamp the wheels!" He heard a man shout. "Do not let this criminal escape!"
Green Arrow was grinning up at him now, a smug smirk on his face.
Mallard felt the Gold Dust gather around his whistle. His whistle felt like it was glowing hot, like his power was pooling in it for some reason.
He blew it, the howling A4 screamer whistle sounded, defending those in the confined space of the museum hall.
There were surprised shouts of the workmen and woman as he did so, a light feeling suddenly overtaking him.
He suddenly saw Green Arrow's smug smirk turn into one of shock as he felt his surroundings warp around him and suddenly, he was on the castle grounds, outside of the museum.
Somehow, the Gold Dust had teleported him out of the museum.
Mallard gave a soft, lilting laugh which slowly gathered in momentum as it turned into the unhinged laugh of a madman.
"Well, Henry do you still think you aren't one of our proud Stainer Black 5 family?" 5025 asked the green engine and Henry blushed embarrassed.
"To be completely honest, I still don't think I am," Henry answered nervously. "I was rebuilt into a Black 5, I still don't think I truly belong to your family."
"Ah well, I guess you've lived your entire life thinking you didn't have one so it's a bit silly of me to think you'd immediately take to having 18 siblings now," 5025 said in good humour.
"I mean no offence," Henry mumbled but 5025 just smiled at him.
"None took Henry," he grinned. "You're a wonderful addition and even if it takes many years for you to accept the lot of us, we'll happily wait until you're ready."
Henry beamed happily at the other engine. Even though he still felt like he was intruding on the family of Stainer's, he did feel accepted and adored by them, despite Hillsy's actions towards Gordon.
"I um, meant to ask you about Gordon," Henry suddenly said as he remembered his friend. "Hillsy was harassing and bullying him. He's been my friend for almost a century and I won't have people coming here to harass him."
"Already taken care of my dear brother," 5025 noted Henry's concern. "She's been on notice for a while for similar behaviour. I had hoped she would behave visiting a new railway but clearly not. She's been put on shunting duty at the Severn for the foreseeable future for her treatment of Gordon."
"Oh," Henry hadn't expected Hillsy to be punished so swiftly but he was glad for it.
"Where is that old Gresley anyway?" 5025 remarked. "I had hoped to finally meet the old boy. He's become quite famous from those books you know. Almost as famous as his brother one might argue."
"He was loaned to Olivia Gresley as a private engine for a while," Henry explained. "I thought it was because of Hillsy harassing him so the Fat Controller sent him away."
"Ah, shame really," 5025 lamented. "Seems a bit boastful but always has a good heart from what I saw in the books."
"Gordon has a big heart that's many times bigger than his ego even if it doesn't seem like it," Henry praised his friend. "He's my best friend."
5025 smiled at Henry warmly.
"I'm glad you found yourself in such good company here dearest brother," he said as he gathered steam ready to depart. "If you ever need us for anything, you just tell your controller and one of us will be at your side faster than you can blink."
"Thanks 5025," Henry smiled at him.
"Name's Conner," 5025 grinned at him. "And it was a pleasure to meet you Henry, my regards to all your friends."
Henry grinned widely, feeling privileged to learn the name of the patriarch of his newfound family. 5025, or Conner was about to start moving when a loud whistle blared in the distance.
Henry frowned and his brow furrowed in confusion.
"That sounds like-" Henry's eyes widened in alarm as Gordon suddenly came barrelling around the corner at a faster speed than he should have been and was racing towards Kellsthorpe station where both Black 5's sat waiting.
"Gordon!?" Henry exclaimed in shock and fear. "Gordon stop you're going to crash!"
Sparks and the piercing grinding of the rails shattered the once peaceful and quiet afternoon as Gordon slammed on his brakes in an attempt to stop. It had been simply a marvel how Gordon hadn't derailed at such speeds coming up the winding track to Ulfstead castle.
"Always gotta be flashy you Gresley lot don't you?" 5025 chuckled to himself as Gordon finally came to an ear-splitting stop, missing the station entirely. "Stopping like that can't be good for your wheels though my good man."
His very loud and very painful arrival snapped Pendennis Castle who sat nearby awake from the sleep he had been with a loud yelp of shock. The Castle class panicked before he saw 5025, Henry and Gordon on the opposite platforms and calmed down slightly.
"Gordon? What is going on?" Henry asked concerned.
Gordon was usually so carefully, one of the more sensible engines on the railway, not one to rush around with reckless abandon like James was.
"It's Scotsman," Gordon panted out of breath and sounded sick with worry. "He, he went off on his own, he went after Great Northern! He's putting himself in danger! He went here I just know it!"
"What are you-" Henry asked confused and 5025 hummed quietly.
"They used Gold Dust to convert Scotsman's soul into a human to stop the Cold Iron Sleep," he explained, Henry just stared at him confused but 5025 seemed convinced of it.
"Yes, and he went after Great Northern who tried to stop him from confronting Mallard," Gordon huffed out sounding winded. "Scotsman learnt that Truro was being held, hostage!"
"Ah well, you'll be pleased to know that Truro is safe and sound! Great Northern freed him and Mallard let Truro go, so no worries on that front," 5025 explained pleased. Gordon didn't look convinced, however.
"Then where is Scotsman? Did he come here? Where is my brother?!" Gordon shouted panicked.
Pendennis seemed to shake himself slightly and tried to blink the tiredness out of his smokebox. He felt strange. Like someone had put him into a restful and dreamless sleep where none of his worries followed him.
"I think-" Pendennis began hesitantly and the three larger engines looked at him. "I can't remember but, someone put me to sleep… Someone told me everything was going to be alright, that everything would be okay in the end."
Pendennis spoke cautiously, unsure if he had been dreaming or if it had actually happened. He was extremely confused yet he felt the most relaxed that he had in years.
"What did he look like?" Gordon asked desperately.
"He um- I don't really remember," the castle class fumbled over his words as if he was intoxicated or sedated, still really not all there. "But I remember he was tall, dressed in green and there was gold."
Gordon's eyes widened. "That- that's him! When did you see him? Where did you see him? You have to tell me!"
"Easy there!"
"Gordon I think you need to calm down!" Henry called to the big blue engine.
He'd never seen Gordon act so distressed or so all over the place. It disturbed him to see his friend act so erratically.
"My brother is in danger!" Gordon shouted desperately his voice on the edge of tears. "I just need to know that he's okay!"
Henry gazed at Gordon sadly unsure of what to do. He wanted to help him but he didn't understand what was going on. He looked to 5025 who looked worried and Pendennis who looked a bit dopey, as if he'd been drugged and was struggling to make sense of the world around him.
Before any of the other engines could respond to the distressed Gordon, a loud explosion erupted from the Sodor Mechanical Museum and a large blue A4 Pacific suddenly roared into life, gold dust flowing around it in clouds, its menacing eyes glowing with golden light and steam hissing from every piston and every valve.
Mallard barrelled towards them, cackling like a maniac and to the shock of the four engines at Kelsthorpe, there appeared to be no crew at all on his footplate. Similar to how Scotsman had once moved when attacked by Green Arrow and Cain.
Dread filled Gordon's boiler. Something was wrong, very, very wrong here.
Mallard raced down the line and was out of sight at very high speed still cackling like a maniac.
There were shouts and yelling as people scattered everywhere, some chasing after Mallard in a hopeless attempt to stop him, others calling for help or for someone to contact the authorities.
"Sir?!" Henry asked confused as Sir Robert came running up to them with sheer panic on his face.
"Mallard's going after Scotsman's engine!" He shouted, out of breath. "He's going to destroy it! So there's no chance for him to come back! Call the Steamworks!"
"Sir where is my brother?!" Gordon demanded angrily. "Where is he?!"
Sir Robert froze, he hadn't noticed Gordon here and he hadn't expected him to get here so fast from the Gresley family manor in York.
"Sir?" Henry asked noticing Sir Robert's hesitation. "Sir what's going on, what happened?"
The Earl did not answer, but the look that he gave Gordon was enough for the big blue engine to realise just what had happened.
The sound Gordon made was halfway between a cry of anguish and a bellow of agony.
Phillip was at a loss as was his engine, Sir Nigel, No.4498. Both knew a great deal about the Gold Dust, 4498 being Sir Gresley's personal engine and confidant for a very long time and Phillip himself was employed by the tightknit Gresley Society that kept the famous engineer's secrets long after his death.
They dealt with all his remaining engines and protected the identities of those engines who were no longer 'engines' as they were. They knew what the Gold Dust could do, they had seen it turn the likes of Rooster into a human and they had seen Mallard slowly degrade over the many years from the lack of it.
No matter what they tried, Mallard's gold dust did not return. When they submerged him into the LNER's Golden Well, nothing happened, the gold dust simply could not be restored. They had tried every conceivable way to bring Mallard's soul back, do anything to restore the damage that Thompson had done to him but nothing worked.
And Mallard became colder and more viscous as the years went by.
Upon the revelation, many years, that Mallard had killed Saint Mungo in revenge for Merlin's scrapping it had broken 4498's heart to make the call to concrete up Mallard's firebox and turn him into an exhibit.
Despite all their knowledge of the Gold Dust, they'd never seen it take hold of a human before.
"Ms Olivia?" Phillip tried to rouse the woman, who still sat atSir Nigel's controls as if she was about to drive him. She simply stared ahead, her eyes golden and her entire body rigid and still. "Ms Olivia please."
Sir Nigel sat patiently, going over ideas in his mind, trying to figure out what was going on. This had never happened before and there was very little knowledge of how the Gold Dust would affect a human.
Had something happened when Olivia had direct contact with Flying Scotsman's soul? She had been heavily pregnant at the time, had that somehow made a difference? Was Scotsman's soul partially in Ms Olivia and that Human form the Gold dust had given him?
Sir Nigel was about to speak when he heard a familiar cackle in the distance. He raised his eyebrows surprised as Mallard of all engines was blasting down the rails towards him. Said engine slowed as he saw his elder brother in the siding.
Sir Nigel gasped in shock.
There was no sign of Black Smoke around Mallard. None at all.
Only Gold Dust hung around the Blue A4 Pacific's boiler, his eyes glowed goldenly and an insane grin was etched across his face.
Mallard had his soul back, it had been completely restored. His soul shone so brightly that it made him glow as if he was basking in the radiant light of a sunset.
Sir Nigel had only seen a single engine with as much gold dust as he saw around Mallard.
Flying Scotsman.
"Hello, brother!" Mallard greeted him with a grin.
"Your soul has been restored," Sir Nigel commented as he gazed at his younger brother warily.
He had a fairly good idea of how Mallard had regained his soul but he wanted Mallard to confirm it. He knew that his little brother wouldn't resist gloating at him.
"It has!" Mallard said gleefully. "All thanks to that sad, pathetic, ridiculous cousin of ours."
"Oh? And how exactly did he do that?"
"Scotsman gave me his Gold Dust willingly, he struggled at the end but I managed to kill him," Mallard said proudly.
"You should not be so proud about such things, brother," Sir Nigel warned harshly. "If Scotsman gave it to you willingly you should be grateful for his sacrifice."
Sir Nigel was devastated. It confirmed his worst thoughts about Flying Scotsman however he refused to show Mallard his outrage or his anger. His brother lived and breathed for such reactions and such things were beneath him.
Mallard seemed to realise this a pouted annoyed at Sir Nigel.
"Still trying to lecture me I see big brother," Mallard snorted at him. "I restored my soul without your help. I never needed your help!"
"Your soul was only restored because Scotsman took pity on you," Sir Nigel argued and Mallard grew angry. "He gave you a second chance and that needs to be treated with the respect it deserves."
"He's dead! I killed him! Stop talking about him!" Mallard shouted at his brother.
"His memory will live on regardless," Sir Nigel remarked. "Allow him to rest in peace. He did a noble thing that no one else did for you."
"Shut up!" Mallard shouted at Sir Nigel. "I'll destroy his engine! He will be nothing but a memory when I am through with him!"
Sir Nigel's fury grew.
"Scotsman saved you, gave his iown/i soul to save yours and yet you still insist on defacing him and antagonising him!" He snapped angrily at the now smug-looking Mallard.
Mallard had gotten the rise out of him that he had wanted and was now gleefully basking in 4498's rage.
"If I get rid of his engine then there will be no chance of him ever coming back!" Mallard taunted Sir Nigel gleefully. "No more golden boy, no more of us superior engines being overshadowed by an outdated relic!"
"Enough!" Sir Nigel snapped angrily. "You have caused enough grief and enough damage over the decades! You have regained your soul and you no longer have an excuse for your poor behaviour, not that you ever did mind. You will return to the museum and you will not argue with me!"
"You didn't speak up for Merlin!" Mallard suddenly shouted. "You had a say in who got preserved, why didn't you put Merlin up for preservation?!"
"Because Merlin didn't want to be preserved!" Sir Nigel yelled back at Mallard.
Mallard fell silent and stared at his older brother shocked.
"W-what?" Mallard asked dumbfounded. "What do you mean? Of course, he wanted to be saved!"
Sir Nigel sighed and looked away from Mallard. He was worried that Olivia hadn't spoken up or even done anything despite the shouting match between the two brothers.
"Merlin did always say that you never listened to him," Sir Nigel muttered sadly.
Mallard frowned at him.
"I did listen to him! He was everything to me!"
"You barely ever did even before Thompson took your soul Mallard," Sir Nigel accused. "He told me so himself when I offered him a place in preservation."
"You… offered him a place in preservation?" Mallard repeated shocked.
"Yes," Sir Nigel confirmed. "But he refused it."
"Why?!" Mallard shouted incredulously. "He promised me that he would stay by my side forever!"
"He said that he didn't want to see you turn into a monster," Sir Nigel said bluntly. "He didn't want to see his favourite brother slowly degenerate into a heartless and cold creature that was no longer the brother he knew. One of his last wishes was that if somehow you got your soul restored, you would finally be able to accept the help of others and realise that we all loved you and would take care of you regardless of what happened."
Mallard started at Sir Nigel, tears welling up in his eyes.
"He- Merlin… Merlin gave up on me," Mallard mumbled quietly. "He promised to stay beside me, he- he betrayed me!"
"I doubt that Merlin gave up on you Mallard," Sir Nigel assured him. "I think he just couldn't bare to see you suffer as you were."
"He betrayed me!" Mallard shouted angrily. "He said, he promised he'd never leave me!"
"Mallard-"
"No shut up!" Mallard shouted at Sir Nigel. "How dare he! How dare he!"
"Mallard, you need to respect Merlin's choice, it was his decision to go-"
"NO! He should not have gone! I told him! I told him he was all I had!" Mallard was becoming inconsolable now, he was panicked and distressed. "He had no right to choose against my wishes!"
"Mallard you are being foolish and cruel! Merlin was his own engine and had a right to choose his own fate," Sir Nigel scolded but Mallard just hissed steam at him. "Merlin is not responsible for your actions or welfare. You are!"
"I'm going to destroy Scotsman's engine and there is nothing you can do to stop me!" Mallard bellowed at his older brother furiously before hissing excess steam and departing in a furious cloud.
Sir Nigel felt the dread rise in his boiler. If Mallard destroyed Scotsman's engine, regardless of where the A3 Pacific's soul was, there would be no chance of him returning to being an engine, something that Scotsman had desperately wished for.
"Ms Olivia! We have to stop him!" He called to the engineer but instead of snapping out of trace, the woman gave him a strange grin.
"Ms Olivia!" Phillip begged, trying to shake her out of her trace her eyes still glowing with Gold Dust. "Mallard's going to destroy Scotsman's engine! We have to stop him!"
Ms Olivia merely smiled a mysterious smile and waved a hand dismissively.
"Let him try," she said and both Phillip and Sir Nigel found themselves freezing in shock.
Ms Olivia hadn't spoken in her own voice, she'd spoken with a very familiar male voice.
She'd spoken in Flying Scotsman's voice.
Before either of them could reply, Olivia suddenly stood and a large golden whistle appeared in her hand.
Without hesitation, she put the Golden Whistle to her lips and blew, as she did she disappeared in a cloud of golden dust leaving Fireman and the engine speechless.
Green Arrow may be one of the A3 and A4s smaller cousins, but his class performed so well for goods engines they pulled express trains.
One underestimates a V2 at their own peril.
~For updates, extra lore or to ask questions or discuss the fic, you can find me on tornadoyoungiron tumblr
There is also a Tumblr where you can directly ask the characters of this story at Ask Young Iron