Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They are taken for questioning. Of course they are taken for questioning, but quietly, as all the passengers and onlookers have left, and in the same intonation of corporate pleasantry that they use so often themselves. Please, would you accompany us for a moment, it doesn’t take long. There are some things we at Albion Rail would like to know about the journey. As if she was just supposed to fill out a customer satisfaction survey. The hallways she is led through are wide and open, and the room is not cold, not dark; it has a high ceiling and walls painted in a light yellow color, yet it feels cold and uninviting. It is made to be non-provoking of any emotion at all, just a clean and soulless room for a clean and soulless company. There are wall-high, closed off bookcases made of light wood to the side, with only small glass fronts at the top. The massive table in the middle of the office draws a clear separation between the side Mx. Maywell sits on, and the side with the empty chair, towards which they nod as Atelut enters the room, the Albion security staff waiting outside. She takes a seat.

Mx. Maywell is not a tall person. Not particularly short, either, but definitely shorter than Atelut. Their features are less angular than those of the immediate Albion family members, they are just a cousin twice removed or something, but some slight resemblance is still there. With the different surname and their rounder face, someone probably thought they would appear as a slightly less threatening extension of the family, good for dealing with staff management.

“Good day, Atelut,” Mx. Maywell greets, after taking a breath that sounds more like a sigh. “Welcome to Pistol City Station Town. I would ask whether you had a good journey, but, well,” they laugh as though they made an exquisite little joke, “that is precisely the topic of our conversation. The fact that the journey had some… complications.” They pause, expectantly. Atelut has to actively fight against the urge to just immediately find an explanation of some sort, defend herself and her friends, come up with anything at all, the truth if necessary, but she keeps quiet. They just continue watching Mx. Maywell out of what they hope are innocent eyes. Finally, Mx. Maywell sighs again, before continuing. “Let me be quite honest with you, Atelut, I currently have all of the higher ups of Albion Rail on my neck. They know that something went wrong with the Ascendant. They, we, however, do not yet know what exactly happened, or what went wrong where. All help you can give us at the current moment is thus highly appreciated, especially because Mr. Albion himself was supposed to check in on the train, and we have lost all contact with him.”

Atelut takes a moment to readjust their collar. “I do not know what exactly went wrong with the Ascendant,” she then says, trying her best to disguise her caution as an attempt at remembering and understanding what she saw, fiddling around with her fingers, furrowing her brows. “Shortly after we started on the journey, Piper Boomstick informed me that the train had stopped picking up tracks, and that it refused to let her control it. Any button she pressed, the train unpressed again, any lever she turned was turned back. Then, the train started planeshifting. We… got attacked, in the Feywild, by a dragon. Then, we got attacked by a lot of things in hell. Mr. Albion… I saw him.” They close their eyes and breathe in and out. Shaking breath. She sees his face again, caved in, and tries to imagine a different face there, to make her eyes start tearing up just slightly. “He joined us on the train while we were still in hell. He wanted to tell me something, I believe it was something important. But we got attacked again. The floor melted away, the roof exploded. There were fiends all around us, I lost sight of him for just a moment. I- I cannot explain what happened. I heard the train whistle. I heard him scream, and I felt the pain through my necklace, and then… We were on a different plane again.” Another shaking breath. Don’t try to lie. “I am so, so sorry.”

“You don’t know anything else?”

“I asked Piper to explain to me what was happening, but she couldn’t, she didn’t understand it either. There was something inside the train, I am pretty sure. I think we lost it, or got rid of it in a Celestial Plane, and that was what allowed us to finally return. I was mostly occupied looking after the passengers, trying to keep them safe and calm. I hope I was successful with that, at least.”

“About that.” Mx. Maywell takes a sip out of the glass standing next to them, then they fold their hands in front of them. “Atelut, you are very intelligent, and you have been a treasured employee for Albion Rail for some time now. I think you are aware that this entire story has the potential to be a huge problem for us. I am going to be quite honest, there is no small amount of people in the higher positions that would like to see you fired, just to make sure someone is found guilty for what happened. However…,” they let the sentence hang in the room for a moment, let Atelut taste it out, “three of the staff members have decided to desert, as far as we can tell. Ryan Wright, Piper Boomstick, and Chet Sapphire are nowhere to be found. And while you are probably an easy option to blame for whatever happened, I think you instead proved yourself quite worthy of your position at Albion Rail. The passengers trusted you, and seemed to feel safe under your guide. That, Atelut, is priceless. So… Do you have anything else you can tell me that could help me convince my bosses that you had nothing to do with this disaster, and that they should maybe put the blame on someone else?”

Atelut swallows. Of course they need a scapegoat. Mr. Albion wanted that to be her and Piper, and now Mx. Maywell wants it to be her friends, too. But there is an opportunity there for her to play a part she can actually bear to play. She just has to grasp for it. “I cannot tell you who is responsible for this, I really have no idea. But I know that the passengers trust me after this journey. They know my face, they know that I was the face of Albion on the journey, they know I kept them safe. I have no mechanical knowledge whatsoever, I could not manipulate a machine like the Ascendant Engine. But what I can do is talk to people, and I believe that Albion Rail will find continued use for this ability of mine.”

“Thank you, Atelut. I am glad to see that we have the same opinion on that matter, then. And… It might be unconventional, and usually I would have to consult with my bosses on the matter. But I believe that this is an opportunity neither of us should miss, and that in this situation especially, a certain speed is of the essence. Because of this, I would like to offer you the position as the official spokesperson for the project Ascendant Engine, a voice of Albion Rail. It is not going to be an easy position, but I will make sure that you will at all times be in close contact with me and other members of our team, and that you know what to expect before speaking to the public. Is this an agreement that suits your ideas?”

For a moment, Atelut can’t believe their own ears. This is better than what she could have dreamt up in her wildest dreams. A position of power. A position from which she can actually make a change. And, if she plays her cards right, hurt Albion, deeply. “Yes,” she says, and doesn’t have to fake her expression, or the excited stumble over her words. “Yes, absolutely, I would love that!”

“Wonderful. I was hoping you would say that, so I have the documents here already - if you could please just sign this to confirm your new placement. If I come with signed papers, my bosses will certainly be much more amicable.”

Atelut quickly scans the papers. They just cement what they already heard out of the things Mx. Maywell said: They are going to be monitored and closely associated with Albion, constantly in contact with them, always available on short notice. But they will know the inner workings. And nothing about this contract is magical in any way. So, with a still shaking hand, Atelut signs.

“Thank you for this opportunity, Mx. Maywell,” she says.

“Thank you for your collaboration,” they answer, with no hint of any warmth in their smile. They offer Atelut a hand, which they take, and shake it. “I am certain you must be very tired from everything that has happened over the last few days. So, you may leave now, and refer to our station staff management to refer you to one of our collaborating hotels, to make your stay as comfortable as possible.”

“Thank you again, I will do so.” Atelut rises, and turns towards the door. “Have a good day.”

“You as well.”

As the door closes behind Atelut, Mx. Maywell leans back in their chair. “What was that?”, they ask into the empty room. The door of the fake bookcase behind them opens.

“It was them,” Elyna Albion says as she steps out. Shoulder length black hair cut as strictly and straight as her cheekbones.

“Are you certain?”

Elyna slams a hand on the table. “Do you really think I would be able to forget the voice I heard seconds after the connection to my brother was cut? It was them. I would recognise her anywhere.”

“Well then why would you tell me to make her a spokesperson? I thought you would want to rip her apart if you ever got her.”

“My dearest cousin, you have so much to learn.” Her anger is concealed professionally behind her purring voice, behind sharp lipstick and sharp, nailpolished claws. “You don’t rip people apart by tearing through them like a bear, you rip them apart like a seamstress. Besides… It is true, the people know her now, and it wouldn’t do us good to just have her vanish. We can use them instead. Keep them close and tight, under our control, and the problem will be eliminated in no time.”

Chapter Text

Piper is swearing about cutting herself on the side of the hole they climbed through out of the Ascendant Engine as she follows Rian, who follows Chet, hoping that he has a plan where to go. They don’t get far from the train before they hear someone behind them. “Stop right now,” a voice says from probably only a few feet behind them, definitely from far too close, “or I will shoot.” The three of them freeze in their step. Piper is still half-caught in some bush stretching its thorny branches out for her. Chet is in the lead, Rian in the middle. He turns around slowly.

A young woman, Half-Orc appearance, Albion security uniform, points a gun at them that seems to be much less prone to misfire shots than Chet’s guns. Rian has seen her before. Usually, her posture is more calm than this, but her eyes are always as attentive, always scanning the scene and any person in it. There is a look of recognition on her face as well, as she is now scanning them and their surroundings, seemingly searching for something specific.

“Chet, care to explain?” she asks.

“Not really the time for much talking,” Chet just answers. Rian suddenly feels a deep fear of their friends’ new-found liking to action scenes.

The woman in front of them, however, suddenly looks directly at Piper. “You’re the engineer, right?”

“...maybe?”

“Did you really kidnap the Ascendant Engine?”

“No, I did not!”, she answers, with honest indignation in her voice, before Rian can stop her.

“Are the passengers safe?”

“Yes. They all arrived together with us, and all of them are as healthy as ever, as far as we know.”

“Piper,” Rian warns, “maybe we shouldn’t-”

The woman lowers her gun. “Take this,” she says with a sigh, and hands Chet a ring. “I only have one of them, your engineer should probably take it for now, she’s going to be the one they will be looking for first. I don’t know much, but rumor has it the Minister of Arcana is already involved in the case, and I feel like they will do anything to find you.” Another look towards Piper, but Rian feels like she is addressing all of them. “This ring shields you from any kind of scrying magic, as well as Sending spells and other telepathic communication. You can’t use telepathy either, but it’s very much worth it. Daisy probably has more of them, and is already expecting you, Chet, so there should be room for two more with no bigger issue.” She breathes in, scans the surroundings again. “Keep hidden and stay safe. Keep better hidden than just a few moments ago, that was not very stealthy. But… I never saw you. Leave, now.” A last nod towards Chet. “See you at Daisy’s.”

The three of them don’t ask any more questions, at least not for the moment. Chet hands Piper the ring, and as soon as the woman turns around, they simply run, with him still leading the way, through more bushes and hedges, now trying to stay lower to the ground, avoiding open fields, but running as fast as possible. It is only fifteen minutes later that they finally stop, allowing Rian and Piper to take a painful breath.

“Who was that?” Rian asks as they are able to bring out words again. “Did you know her?”

“Of course I know her!” Chet says. “That’s Symphony, an old friend of mine. She sometimes helps me get things through security.”

Rian is still breathing more heavily than he would like to admit. “Huh. I always wondered how you managed to get all your stuff on board.”

“Most of it is just being clever and looking inconspicuous, but sometimes you need a little extra someone behind the scenes to do some help, and that someone is Symphony.”

“And she knew you’d be here and in need of one of these rings?”

“Probably doesn’t take much to guess that something has gone very wrong with the train, and it takes less to guess that I’m not going to let myself be questioned and watched by Albion for the next who knows how many years.”

That does track, although a few days ago, Rian would not simply have guessed that Chet would run. It made sense in the moment, especially with Chet having developed a taste for being an action hero of sorts, but before? He always seemed to be a person that did not like Albion, but also didn’t care enough to be bothered by them too much. The kind of person that would play the innocent employee who hasn’t seen anything, doesn’t know anything, and is just as confused as anyone else, but not a rebel. Then again, being underestimated is the best cover.

Piper holds up her hand and looks at the ring, a thin silvery black band around her finger. “Did I seriously just take a random ring from someone I don’t know and put it on? After everything that happened?”

Rian can’t help a chuckle escaping them. “And from an Albion security person, even.”

She twists the ring around and holds it up closer to her face. “It seems to be fine, though. I hope. I don’t think it’s a tracking device or something like that. Not that I know much about tracking.”

“You can trust Symphony, she’s a good one,” Chet says. “And now that that is sorted, and the two of you can breathe kind of healthily again, let’s continue. We can’t overthrow a government here in the shrubs, so let’s get going again, we’ve got a good while still to go before we meet the revolution.”

Before Rian or Piper can ask him to elaborate, he is already running off again, heading towards the outskirts of Pistol City Station Town.

Chapter Text

The day Rian had heard about the Ascendant Engine project for the first time had also been the day they had first heard about Pistol City Station Town. It isn’t a big town, and it isn’t an important town; although he doesn’t know for certain, he is pretty sure the only reason it was chosen to be the engine’s destination was that it is relatively far away from June Grove Station Town, and that there are not many railroads between the two towns that might have interfered with the journey. It looks like most other station towns, with the same general structure, and the same setup. Only that the outskirts seem even more destitute. It’s a harbor town, and the wet and salty air has gnawed on the houses.

Chet leads them further through some shady alleys, and then over a fence plastered with signs that unmistakably tell anyone that trespassers are in danger of drowning. He doesn’t pay them any attention, and just waves off the concerned “Uh, Chet?”s that Piper and Rian ask. Behind the fence and some shrubs, a few weathered steps lead down into a canal. Suspiciously, Rian eyes the greenish yellow algae and residue marks that show where the water had stood once, as he follows down into the concrete tunnel.

“Remind me of why exactly we decided to come here?”

“Nobody would ever expect anyone to come here out of free will?”, Piper offers.

“That’s just an added bonus”, Chet explains. “I told you, I know the way with the least eyes on us, and I know a guy who will help us. You think I constructed all of these myself?” He pats his counterfeit gun-filled backpack, a hint of pride in his eyes. Rian swallows their comment about how he might as well have, given their quality.

Finally, after seeing far too many rats for Rian’s liking, Chet leads them up a pair of steps similar to the ones they came down, and through some more shrubs, until they arrive at the backdoor of what looks like a run-down little pub built out of the same weathered brown bricks most of the older buildings in this town are made of. The few small windows all have closed, lace-trimmed curtains that apparently used to be white, but the flowers in the boxes are well-cared for despite everything. Chet just walks up to the gray backdoor, knocks a little pattern, and with a quiet clicking sound, the door swings inwards, and they enter.

The room they step into is surprisingly well-lit, given its shady exterior. There is a fireplace in the back of the room, with some plushy armchairs arranged around it. Next to the fireplace, steps lead up, likely to guest rooms of some sort. Around the room, little tables and chairs are arranged in a way that is cozy, but gives each table group some privacy, and to the right hand side, coming from the door, is a long bar made of dark wood, across from what seems to be the official front door.

Maybe five people are currently sitting inside, looking up at them with mistrust in their faces as they enter. Behind the bar stands a late middle aged looking man with both Elven and Goliath features, grayish skin, pointy ears, and a big belly. He scans them for a moment, until he seems to recognise Chet, and puts down the bottle he was holding in his hand.

“Chet, my friend. Did not expect to see you this soon, and you bring company! Come in, have a seat with your friends there. What can I serve you today?”

The atmosphere in the room noticeably relaxes, and Chet goes up to the bar, Rian and Piper following cautiously. “This is Rian, that’s Piper”, he introduces them, taking off his backpack and handing it over to the man, “and this is Daisy, an old friend of mine. He’s the one organizing the potato gun business. About that, new delivery here for you, but this might have been the last from me for the near future. I think I effectively handed in my resignation with Albion.”

“Pretty certain, yeah”, Rian adds.

Daisy just nods, and with a lowered voice asks: “Right, about that. What happened? We heard various stories, but Albion obviously spreads stuff about how it was all some engineer’s fault who tried to abduct the engine or whatever…”

“I’ll tell you the whole story once we got some air to breathe, and a bit of time. But the three of us left before they could try to question us or anything, and have had some crazy few days. Pretty exciting. But if you have a room or three for us, that would be wonderful, because we’re tired.”

“Two rooms I can do, we don’t have three at the moment.”

“That’s fine, I’ll take one, Piper and Rian can share.”

Rian tries to protest: “Chet, I really think maybe Piper should get-”

“Listen, Rian, you might be new to the whole revolution thing, but I have been involved with this stuff for years now. Sometimes you have to share a room before you can overthrow the government. You didn’t have siblings growing up, this is a valuable lesson for you to learn.”

Rian hardly registers the second sentence, they are too shocked to hear Chet just openly use the word “revolution” in a bar. He feels eyes pierce his back, and a creeping coldness climb up his spine, but as he - sneakily, or so he hopes - looks over his shoulder, the other patrons calmly continue whatever they were doing before, paying them barely any attention at all. But he hasn’t imagined it, Piper has tensed up next to him just as much as he.

“Don’t look around so pale, you think I would lead you to a place that hasn’t been undermining Albion for decades now? You think the gun smuggling is in favor of Albion?” Chet just chuckles, and Daisy hands him a key, sliding the other to Piper.

“Here’s your keys, keep ‘em safe, don’t lose ‘em, you know the drill. Up the stairs, down the hallway to the left. No loud noises past 11, no experimenting with gunpowder in the rooms, and no mention of anything that happens inside here outside these walls or with opened windows. Anything else?”

“I’ll take a carrot juice. Oh, also, we met Symphony, she says Hi, but she only had one of those fancy rings for us, so we’ll take two more of those, too.”

“Right, the rings.” He grabs something from behind the bar, and then slides over two rings that look more or less like the one Piper wears. “Chet, you’re not a magic user, you take this one. It might be a bit weaker than the others, Jackson had a bit of a bad time with it there, but as long as you don’t start casting spells around it should be fine. You, Rian, right? You take this one. Good protection from any sort of tracking or scrying or whatever they do, but it also stops you from using these spells, just so you know. Carrot juice is coming to your room in just a minute, I’ll have to get it from the back. That’ll be five copper.”

“Copper?”, Rian asks quietly.

Daisy looks at him with a grin on his face. “Chet, where have you picked up the poor boy? Have you ever been anywhere further away from the central-east railway line than Dew Wood?”

Rian doesn’t answer, but feels their face reddening a bit. He hasn’t even been to Dew Wood Station Town. He grew up on the south-east railway line, and there are only so many trains that go for long enough that they need a bar cart, and someone to work it. Most of them are on the central-east.

Daisy leans over the counter to pat his shoulder. “Didn’t mean to embarrass you, my friend. We’re all starting somewhere. Get your stuff into your rooms, make yourselves at home, dinner is served at 7, and afterwards the two of you will get some explanations, although you look very funny with those puzzled faces. Chet, rooms and dinner are paid for for a week, drinks, other meals, and longer stay you’ll have to help out with.”

“Got it, boss. See you for dinner, I’ll have a nap now.”

And then Chet just goes up the stairs, with Rian and Piper following because they don’t know what else to do. He goes into his room, Rian and Piper open theirs, and then, there is no longer any indication of what is the correct thing to do now, or what is happening.

It’s a nice room. For sure. It’s small, but obviously larger than the space they had on the train. It has a bunk bed, and a desk with a chair, and a wardrobe, and a little sink. There’s a window with these lace-trimmed curtains they saw, which seems to look out to the small street the front door is located in. In front of the window sill is a little bench.

“Can I have the top bed?”, Piper asks, a shy little smile on her face.

“Sure, I don’t mind.”

The smile turns into a grin, and she throws her backpack up there and climbs up to sort through her stuff. Rian decides to just follow her example and treat the situation as just another stay in another inn. Just that this is not an inn cooperating with Albion.