Chapter 1: In a land far away...
I believe that most folks still linger onto the hope that adventure may never be very far away. From the port of call of a ship bound for the unknown, to the sounds of wolves howling deep in the woods. In all of my travels in these lands, one memory that's lingered forever is the distant sounds of the railroad. And that long after the sounds of a steam locomotive's whistle has vanished, its romance will still safely linger forever in the hearts of humans who hear it.
No matter the age, no matter the time.
Most folks are happy to know this... sadly, there are a few cold hearted folk who do not care, it's a real pity because not caring is all that is needed to cause a lot of trouble to some of the most precious things in life. And on my travels, I've seen both sides of that coin, from those who protect all life to the very end, to those who believe that only the strong survive.
Life in my eyes should be cherished, after all, life is fragile. Life can be stripped from you without a blink of an eye...a business could suddenly cease to exist, a railway overgrown, a town buried in fire, a huntress gone in the night... This is a story simply about lives being far apart, and the railway that brought them together.
Every story has an origin, a birthplace, and ours today starts on a little island known as the Isle of Sodor. There's nowhere else quite like it, and if I think you have the imagination I think you do, you're about to find out why…
- The Storyteller.
The Isle of Sodor is nestled between the Isle of Man and Great Britain, surrounded by a beautiful blue sea. It has fields of green and sandy yellow beaches. There are rivers, streams and a lovely forest of trees where the birds sing. The island is agriculturally focused, with windmills and yellow fields of wheat dotted across the countryside. A large coal mine near the island's heart looms over the valleys, leading down to the docks where visitors to the island might arrive.
The largest town, and home to the docks is Tidmouth, located on the west side of the island across the Sudrian Channel to Castletown on the Isle of Man. Day in and day out the dockside is busy with the sounds of the constant movement of cargo, from the dockside shunters to the tallest cranky cranes who get no rest, to the lorries and ships that tirelessly move in and out of the port. The railway found its footing right on the dockside, and the amount of traffic you could see at the central railway station matches that attitude of Tidmouth, there's always something or someone moving about. It makes Tidmouth a gateway for industry, and the A. W. Dry Company put plenty of work into building up the River Tid as a large canal for fishing vessels and other ships to go a decent way into the town. Even here, in the dead of night, you'd still see the hustle and bustle of people working.
This night however, there were two small diesel shunters, one purple and one olive, slowly creeping their way among the sidings as they reached a small shed towards the back of one of the industrial yards. There stood a large imposing diesel ten times the size of them, and ten times the brutal strength! Sitting atop that very diesel rested a mechanical claw, the diesel just scowled as the two shunters rolled up.
"You two took your time." The Diesel barked, there was no answer from the shunters. "Well?" He snarled a little before speaking again. "Any news for your good ol' boss?"
The purple diesel spoke up first. "Y-Yeah! Fatt Hatt's gone on holiday!" Their sibling, in olive chimed after seeing the bigger diesel's face just tense up. "Yes sir!"
That caused the larger tan diesel to raise their eyebrow. "Well then, what evidence did you happen to see?"
"W-We saw him carrying suitcases as they boarded the green shrimp." The olive one oiled. "Perseus I thi-" Questioned the other one, before the larger diesel erupted into a growl.
"He's a businessman. Of course that Fat Controller would have a suitcase or two with him!" The Diesel snarled at them, as his claw quickly snapped open and shut again in frustration.
That took the diesel shunters back. "His family was on the plat-platform with him!" shouted one as their twin agreed. "Y-Yeah, including his son!"
The Diesel's face dropped before he started to smirk. "His family was with him? Suitcases for them too?" The diesel shunters just murmured a yes before his smirk just grew. "So, they all have left the island huh? That's real good work of you to tell me, Splodge…" The Diesel just grinned and chuckled to himself. "Excellent news for the Boss. What perfect timing for the Hatts to depart on the eve of such an important anniversary. Soon, our mission will begin in earnest. We will find that lost steamie for him."
The diesel shunters just looked at each other and their own boss as they settled in for the night, feeling the moon's glow on their rooftops as they fell asleep.
As the moonlight faded into the morning sun's rays, the peaceful island slowly awoke, and with it came the cheerful chuffing of a little blue tank engine, with six small wheels, a short stumpy funnel, a short stumpy boiler, and a short stumpy dome.
Every story has its heroes. Meet Thomas, he's one of our story's heroes... yet he's running a little late today. Thomas lives here on the Isle of Sodor with all of his friends, happily going about his day running his very own branch line from Tidmouth up the coast to the town of Arlesburgh, across the channel from Douglas.
In his younger days, Thomas had been the head station pilot of Tidmouth, and today he was being tasked with the chore once more for a morning. Once Thomas had arrived in the yards he went right to work collecting coaches for the Express. Even though he was already a little late leaving Arlesburgh, and a slow order past the sheds at Tidmouth Town station, it took him an awfully long time to find a suitable set of coaches for Gordon. He had to admit to himself, the current station pilot, Rosie, had done great work organizing the yard. Everything was in a neat and tiny spot of course, but due to him not knowing the organization himself, it took him an extra minute to find the new coach sidings.
He had to chuckle to himself as he quickly brought the coaches to the station, one of the other engines on his branch had been willing to take up pulling Annie and Clarabel for the morning, giving Rosie a much needed day out of the harbor to herself. Thomas knew at heart that engines always needed a day to leave the yards, after all… when he was younger, all he wanted to do was to see the world. As he approached the main Tidmouth Central station, he could already hear the grumblings of a large blue engine, Gordon, who was clearly bored waiting.
"...3, 4, 5, 6...-"
Thomas interrupted in with his whistle and a chuckle. "7, 8! How do we appreciate! I see you're practicing your numbers Gordon, I knew you were old but!-" He just grinned as he rushed past Gordon and quickly shunted the coaches behind Gordon before running back around to look up at the now unimpressed pacific next to him.
"I was counting how many seconds late you were, little Thomas. After all, you of all engines should be able to read that sign."
Thomas looked over to the sign that Gordon was likely referring to. ""North Western Regional Railways, really reliable and right on time! Signed head of the railway, Sir Charles Topham Hatt-""
Gordon just smirked. "See little Thomas, what did I sa-."
Thomas interjected, as he kept reading the sign. ""We are sorry for any inconvenience during repair works, we are always striving to make this railway even better than it already is."" Thomas shot a cheeky smirk at Gordon. "Last I checked, there's also a speed restriction coming past Tidmouth Town sheds due to the wall being replaced, or have you forgotten?"
Gordon just huffed and blew steam at Thomas before they both smiled at each other a little. They had been colleagues on Sodor for decades at this point and just knew how to rile the other up for some cheerful banter. With a shrill whistle, they watched another blue tender engine reverse into the station platform next to them. This was Edward, he was one of the oldest engines on the line. He wasn't as small as Thomas, nor as big as Gordon.
No one minded that though, as his wisdom and history of the lore of the island was only matched by a couple of engines on the eastern side of Sodor. The other two just looked at Edward for a second, but Thomas spoke up first.
"Well..." Thomas said, drawing their eyes back to him as he tried to puff up some confidence. "I'm going to have to excuse myself, I need to fill up with water and coal soon, as I'm going to be collecting Mr. Conductor." Thomas just saw Gordon roll his eyes as he kept speaking. "He's going to be watching over us while The Fat Controller and his family are on a much needed holiday."
Gordon just huffed. "I think we can take care of ourselves-"
Before Gordon could answer any further, there was a rush of air as the large tan diesel rushed through the platforms, shouting to them with an angry voice. "Get out of the way, I've got a job for the boss and I'm not letting you steam kettles get in my way!"
The three of them were speechless, as were their crews!
After a brief moment, Thomas broke the silence. "Just who was that?!"
Edward lamented as he looked at the diesel trailing off into the distance. "Trouble." His eyes never trailed off from the diesel as the others turned to look at him. Even with two pairs of eyes focused on him, the wise old engine could not return the favor, slowly tracing the red tail lamp of the diesel as it disappeared around the corner in the distance. "Hmm..." he started to mutter under his breath, deep in his own thoughts. "It is getting close to the 50th anniversary... no... it couldn't be..."
"Perhaps you should be off Little Thomas... we do need Mr. Conductor here... on time..." Quietly whispered Gordon. Whatever Edward was thinking about, was not good, for them nor the railway. Thomas just grinned a little as he waited for a road. His jobs today were to shunt in the yards for the morning and then at noon he was to leave and meet Mr. Conductor up by Ulfstead, and he couldn't keep Mr. Conductor waiting too.
Thomas navigated the yards, shunting coaches and trucks and bringing coaches to the big station for trains to take out. After a while, other engines would arrive with their own trains and he'd shunt those trucks and coaches away so the big engines could go rest before their next trains. Finally, as he started to run low on water, he made his way up the line with a short goods train for Tidmouth Town station as he quite liked the quieter atmosphere of the junction station, and the water at Tidmouth Town was so much nicer than the main station's.
Thomas had soon topped up on coal and water, and slowly backed into the sheds there. He was still thinking about what Edward had alluded to about an anniversary…Fifty years would put it back in that depression between the Wars, when Henry had his old shape, or right after his rebuild… There was something else that occurred then, but Thomas was hesitant to believe it might be connected.
Thomas, however, in his thoughts didn't realize he had already reached the end of the siding next to the sheds until he hit the buffers with a loud bump, stopping him in his tracks and bringing him back to reality. "Botheration!" Thomas cried out before hearing a slight chuckle from the shed row next to him.
There in the sheds was a red engine the same size as Edward, James was his name, steam leaking softly from his cylinders as he spoke. "You weren't paying attention, Thomas, lucky for you the buffers were there!" He chuckled a little as Thomas just rolled his eyes.
"That's what buffers are for James, to stop us from crashing... So what are you doing in the sheds?"
James just looked down a little. "I'm... feeling a little blue, which isn't so hot when compared to my lovely maroon paint." He huffed a little as he wheeshed some more steam. "My injector's failed, and so I was pulled off my service at Ulfstead. I had to run back down by myself earlier while they fetched for Penelope to take it back. Bear said that he might be free to tow me to Crovan's Gate on his next service to have me double checked." James wheeshed a little in annoyance. "After all, it was Charles' last order to have the men send us to Crovan's Gate for anything important before he left on Holiday."
Thomas just smiled at him. "He's just trying to look out for us, James, afterall, the better condition that we're in and the harder we work, the more passengers who come to see us...-"
James slowly heard the sounds of an unfamiliar diesel engine starting to rumble close by, until he saw it on the track next to Thomas, who was oblivious to the newcomer. "Uh T-Thomas!" whispered James, as he noticed the large claw on the diesel.
"-leading to less of a need for British Rail to send for new diesels to come help, after all we're quite independent!" finished Thomas smiling cheerfully.
"Help you?!" The large diesel that Thomas had seen rushing through Tidmouth earlier was standing next to him, before he started to laugh maliciously. "You steamies always need help don't you? It's because you're just cowardly, cranky worn out hunks of rusted metal! I Bet you couldn't even shoo a bee if you tried!"
James rolled his eyes, not needing a reminder of when he had been stung all those years ago.
The Diesel spoke up again. "Of course, I'm not here for either of you piles of junk. My boss has told me that he's looking for a lost engine, they went by the name of Lady Argidrhod."
Thomas felt his boiler suddenly spike in temperature, as his eyes focused on Diesel, barely hearing James' "What?!" as his safety valves lifted. Thomas had only met one engine with such a name before as Lady Argidrhod. Named after the Sudric Goddess, meaning silver wheel. That Lady had been a dear friend of his as she ran her own little line high up in the hills. But that was a long time ago, lost in the wind… the fact that this diesel and his boss were looking for her was troubling, and he wouldn't stand for it.
"And once we find her, she'll be destroyed, and then I'll dominate you pesky little steamies, well... until I make you useless scrap.." The diesel motioned upwards as their claw opened and shut quicky a few times before drifting it in front of Thomas' nose. "Isn't that right... Pinchy?" The claw responded and opened and shut, before returning to its normal position on top of Diesel's cab.
Thomas just fumed and stared intensely at the big Diesel, who just smirked at him and turned on his engine. Over the sounds of Thomas' safety valve still releasing steam, and the diesel, Thomas barely heard James retorting about the Diesel, but as the Diesel started to slink away, Thomas snapped.
"We are really useful engines. We won't let you dominate us, and you won't destroy her. I won't let you!" Thomas shouted at the now departing Diesel. Thomas felt compelled to start chasing after him as his crews opened his regulator, all of that excess steam sending him forwards at quite a steady pace. "Neither will Mister Conductor, I'm off to fetch him now!"
If Thomas hadn't been too focused on his own anger, he would have heard a soft voice coming from James.
"Who.. what lost engine?"
That very engine was cold.
The world around her was frozen in time, cast by a thick layer of ice and snow covering the grounds. Lady Argidrhod stood alone at the back of a rundown mining warehouse, surrounded by large railcars, all forgotten.
Just as she had been.
The cold air blew through cracks in the windowsills as she shuttered. This place, an abandoned mine in Mantle and all of the now rusting trucks around her, had been the only thing she had seen for… months… years?
Time was just a figment of her imagination after all.
Tap.
All she knew was that these lands rarely had any weather other than what she would call a winter. A frozen tundra always on the verge of civil unrest, if the radio that played nearby was true.
The radio had recently crackled back on and was softly playing a song about a man out of time. Some miner had plugged the radio in one night to give the next shift some music to listen to, right before leaving for the day. But that shift never came in, nor did he return, as the mines shut down almost overnight. For Lady this had been a miracle as it meant that in the chaos, Burnett had snuck her into the warehouse, promising to come back for her.
Eventually.
In the time since, random adventurers with weapons and powers she'd never believe had come and gone through, looking for anything useful during their hunts. Some returned to say goodbye, but others came to chalk up words all over her and leave once their graffiti was written.
She felt alone.
Tap.
She was scared. This world was nothing like Earth. Those adventurers and the radio told dark stories of the creatures known as Grimm. Those Grimm wandered the lands: hunting, searching for those poor souls filled with despair.
And Lady had to admit, she was one of them.
This was not her home, she had fallen through the world and landed here and was paying the price, shattered much like the name of this world…. Remnant.
Tap.
The radio suddenly cut out with the sounds of something hitting the floor. Lady looked over to where the radio had been sitting, only to see bright red glowing eyes staring at her from the darkness past the window. Her eyes widened as she realized just what it was. Those monsters had found her and were going to kill her.
Defenseless, with no way to escape, Lady just teared up as the boney faces came ever closer, watching as she saw the Grimm's arm that had pulled the radio down as it crawled along the floor, as another rose from a hopper.
This was it.
She'd never see Sodor again. She'd never again see the faces of Thomas or Edward, or the faces of the villagers she once served. The memories of the large castle she passed on a causeway, the dam high above the world. Soon it'd all be gone, and her with it.
She just looked up at them as they started to lunge forward, her faded eyes tearing up further, as her vision blurred as she was to witness her demise. She was pleading, hoping for something, anything to keep her alive.
If only she knew just how powerful one spark of hope was.
Author's note: A couple of months, nearly a year ago or so, I had started fleshing out my own headcanons for Thomas the Tank Engine and started crafting my own AU about it, as time went by, I kept joking around with the ideas that if I did my own take on Thomas and the Magic Railroad, it'd end up being a crossover… well, that time has since passed, and I actually started to make scenes on my Deviantart of it, and now have decided to release them as a whole story on FanFiction and Ao3. I hope you've enjoyed this first chapter and hope you stay for the ride ahead.