The Sun was setting while Mercuria was standing alongside the road with her hand raised, holding the golden ticket as she waited for her transport to arrive and fought against the greedy wind that wanted to take the paper from her. After reading her grandfather’s letter she called a crane truck to bring back her mother’s motorcycle and checked her bank account, so surprised by the amount of income that was now in her possession that she took both her hands to her mouth. The young guitarist then returned back home on her new bike, feeling a mix of joy and grief as the adrenaline ran through her brain and the memories of Samuel came back to hell. When she arrived, the very first moment she entered the house, Mercuria ran to her room and started packing all the things she would need, from money and clothes to strings and picks. At the sight of her rumbling activity, the woman’s parents asked her for the reason of this sudden rush, to which she was forced to tell a half-truth in order to get away with it and save her parents the worry, adding guilt to the things she took with her. She knew the dangers, but she wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip away, so she told them that her grandfather had given her in his testament a travel to a list of places chosen by him. It took some effort to convince them, with her mother remaining suspicious, although Mercuria had the feeling that her father knew she was lying, maybe by the fire that was burning on her eyes, and yet let her follow the path she had chosen.

She had already been ten minutes with her arm raised and was starting to get impatient when she heard a sound in the distance. The guitarist then heard it again, recognizing it as a train’s whistle, and began to see a distant blur that was taking the shape of the machine as it got closer. As the black train was stopping in front of her she was captivated by its fantastical form, with a skull with bright red eyes on the front, bathing with a crimson gaze the horizon, bat-like wings topping the wagons and skeletal fingers on the sides, with the red smoke fleeing from the chimney and dancing with the winds. She was astounded at the sight of such metallic beauty and presence that it generated.

Once the mass of steel completely laid still, a door opened in front of her, and an eye with a pupil as red as blood appeared atop.

“Hello, young lady. Please, leave your vehicle on this wagon and move forward to a free compartment with your baggage,” said a deep and formal voice that came from the machine itself, surprising the young woman.

Mercuria stood there, contemplating the machine with excitement. She was finally seeing one the protagonists of the stories she loved, a railway engine possessed by the spirit of a demon and forced to transport the passengers to the places where they needed to be, not where they wanted, as a punishment for a past crime.

“Are you okay?” asked the train as his eye studied the passenger, concerned by her silent, although he had seen his fair amount of answer to his peculiar state and was already accustomed.

The train woke the girl from her absorption, who excused herself and moved the motorbike into the structure through a ramp, parking it alongside other passenger’s rides. She took her backpack and the Wayfinder’s case from the crate and the luggage rack adapted to hold guitars while carrying Revolutionary on her back, and began to search for a free compartment when the eye appeared again on the ceiling.

“We have a dining wagon that will open in an hour, if you want to eat something,” spoke the machine again with its deep and rusty voice, which conflicted with his well-mannered and professional speech, “We have dishes from different regions for a reasonable price, as well as tasteful dessert that I’m sure you’ll enjoy”

“Okay, thanks,” said Mercuria automatically requiring some seconds for other words to join in a sentence and extra strength to speak it, “I’ll have to give them a try”

The eye disappeared and she resumed the search, smiling when she remembered her grandfather’s money and that she could buy even the most expensive thing there was without having to worry about her budget. A least not immediately. The woman couldn’t fully believe her current situation and every step she took through the train’s interior brought her a childish happiness, and as she explored the apparatus she saw the other passengers on board, both demons and humans, with the first ones making her feel a bit uncomfortable due to the bad reputation they carried and her lack of experience with them. The people riding the machine were more than she had expected, but not enough to prevent her quest from being easily completed.

Once inside the room, Mercuria threw her backpack into one of the two sofas and carefully placed her Stratocaster in a guitar support placed on the wall. With nothing else to do now, she took Wayfinder and grabbed the pick from her necklace, now accompanied by the one that held the Devil’s Pick, preparing to play the guitar for the first time and give her final goodbye to Samuel. Her left hand embraced the neck and the fingers pressed the strings, with her right hand holding the pick over the sixth, patiently waiting for the movement to begin.

There is something I’ve lost

Now that you’re gone

I’m surrounded by frost.

But I’ll be fine

I’ve got you in my heart

You’ll never die.

I will carry on

With all that you taught

The stories you told me

The adventures I longed.

I will carry on

With all that you taught

Against all that’ll come.

Do not fear for me

I will find my way

Face the adversity

Down Life’s highway.

After the lyrics ended, she continued playing the guitar, ending in an abrupt silence. Mercuria turned her head to the left, to the yellow flower that had sprouted on the wall under her command thanks to the Power of Rock, channelled through her music and feelings. She carefully took the flower between her fingers and walked towards the window. Now open and with the sound of the wind violently entering her compartment, the woman took a last glance at the flower she had created and let it go, flying away from her.

“Farewell”

She sat on the seat and felt how her body began to fall to the fatigue accumulated through the day, unable to resist against the undefeatable sleep. She closed her eyes, with the guitar laying on her lap, as one last thought crossing her mind before falling.

“Just two minutes”

In her dreams, the same images she saw when she touched the Devil’s Pick came back to hunt her, now much clearer. Mercuria saw herself standing over a pile of gold and treasures inside an unknown cave, and as she walked through it she tripped and fell into the riches, sliding down uncontrollably until she managed to stop. When she tried to stand back up, her eyes came across a bass in front of her, with six white strings and a deeply uncomfortable sensation flowing from it. As her hand reached the instrument, twin roars from an unknown origin made her fall again, landing on a wet soil. When she recovered from the incident, the woman noticed that she was in another place, where it was raining heavily and she was surrounded by a mass of slaves moving big rectangular stones, completely ignoring her as they passed by her side. Their faces disturbed Mercuria, as an array of factions appeared on them for a second before being substituted by others, turning into a blurry mess. A bright light floated above them, seemingly untouched by the violent rain and mocking everyone below with its graceful movements and a laugh that denoted superiority. The guitarist attention moved away to one of the slaves when she heard the sound of his body falling on the mud, and was surprised to see that he wasn’t acknowledged, left to die as the rest continued carrying stones under the watch of the light. Mercuria looked to where the mass was moving, an unfinished tower that rose into the skies, taller than anything she had seen or heard about in her life. She turned her back and was again in a different location, with a window in front of her that gave view to a battlefield marked by fire and the sound of music being used for war, becoming sick at such sight. The woman felt something in her hand, and when she lowered her gaze she saw a crown in her grasp, identical to the one painted in Revolutionary. When she moved her eyes from the object, she found an elaborate throne in the room she was standing in, and as the noise of war ceased she looked back through the window, seeing how the chaos was replaced by a prosperous civilization and nature. When Mercuria felt the weight of the Devil’s Pick hanging from her neck it didn’t take long for her to understand the meaning of this strange dream.

Find the Remains, prevent destruction, become queen.