As the train was approaching its next destination, Mercuria was packing her stuff to leave after having been informed that it would be her stop. In the middle of the task, she recalled what happened after the battle with the bikers, how she used the Pick against them and the sensation of power she felt afterwards, and as her grandfather’s words resonated inside her head she feared what would happen if she fell into temptation. The woman felt her skin itching from the medicine applied to the wounds and moved her fingers to the bandages and band-aids that covered them from the environment. Her injuries weren’t serious, but either way, the demoness that came alongside her played with her saxophone a piece of blues rock to avoid an annoying inflammation for both of them. After that, the machinist had took her apart to talk, having felt the presence of the Pick when the girl attacked her captors, as well as the train, and told her that she could still back up from her journey and that there would be no shame in it, since the travel would be more dangerous as she progressed and word about the Devil’s Pick spread around. She had made clear her resolution to continue, and the demon nodded and took her to the dining wagon along with the rest of the passengers, rewarding all of them with a delicious meal and extraordinary dessert, much to Mercuria’s joy, showing his and the crew’s culinary abilities.

“Does this happen often?” had asked the guitarist referring to the biker incident when the machinist served her a traditional meal from his homeland, made with the bowels of an animal that lived near there. Once she had beaten the unappetizing sound of the meal’s ingredients and tasted it, she fell in love with it and began to devour it in front of the demon, who was showing his sharp teeth as he smiled at the sight.

“Not very much, but from time to time those assholes get a little brave and think they can get some prize,” the demon said with a strong accent as he continued to watch Mercuria clean the plate, “I’m goin’ to get you something for dessert, the house’s special.”

With the memories of the magnificent cake and the conversations that came afterwards still clinging onto her head, Mercuria left her compartment and moved towards the car where her motorcycle was being kept. Once there, she strapped everything to its place and patiently waited for the doors to open. When the machine stopped and her way out was clear, the train’s eye appeared and announced their destination.

“Welcome to Paradise City, it’s been a pleasure having you here.”

“Thank you,” said Mercuria, almost mumbling, before stepping out into the city, “The service was great”

“Thank you, and good luck, young miss,” The train said as its engine began to ignite and the wheels slowly advanced.

Standing in the middle of a street covered with green grass illuminated by the lampposts and surrounded by tall buildings, the young woman watched the machine leave to its next destination, releasing a series of short whistles to say goodbye. When the train got lost in the distance the guitarist turned her back, finding herself in front of a bar called “The Thunderpub”, which had a poster on the door announcing a contest taking place right now. According to her logic, it couldn’t be a coincidence that her stop was in front of the establishment at this hour, knowing the Crazy Train’s purpose, and she parked her bike on the first space she found to enter the pub, hoping that she would find someone to aid her on her mission.

She descended a set of stairs and opened a door, enveloping herself in the whirlwind of chaos that was the current performance, featuring a punk rock band aggressively playing their instruments. She walked around the place searching for an empty seat and, once she found it, ordered something to drink while she watched the rest of the contestants. An array of musicians came through the stage, some good, some bad, and a few great ones, but none of them convinced Mercuria. She was looking for something else that she couldn’t describe, a feeling that would help her recognize whoever she was looking for. Then the final participant was announced.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our last musician: Glam!” The presenter said, encouraging the public and getting Mercuria’s attention, who was hoping that she hadn’t been wrong and that this one would be the one.

A woman the age of Mercuria appeared on stage with looks that could only be described as flamboyant, enjoying the applauses the crowd gave to receive her and saluting back. She had a star painted on her face, a pixie hairstyle combining red, yellow and green, and eyes of a green brighter than the city’s grass, like emeralds. Her eccentric attire was composed by a long green jacket that almost touched the ground, marked with shining engravings, yellow borders, blue neck and red cuffs, and matching flared trousers. As an added touch, her nails were painted each with different colors, turning the woman into a walking artistic creation in conjunction with her clothes. She gave a musical score to the local’s musicians that would assist her and took the microphone while they began to play, letting it fall to the ground when her time came.

I do not need

A microphone

My voice is powerful.

The sound that came out of her mouth capture Mercuria with a hypnotic charm, standing on the edge of the seat. The singer, Glam, had an otherworldly presence that accompanied her magical voice, and above all that, she showed a passion deeper than the others, putting her everything on the song.

A woke up a morning

With all direction lost in my life.

My life.

My brained screamed in fear

Face covered in tears

No sense of direction

No hope in my reflection.

My life

My life

Maybe I was born broken

And have already fallen

Trapped in a dark pit

Where light can’t be lit.

My life

My life

I want to scream

Now I can’t dream

I’m haunted by failure

I want to rise above the fear

And fly across the stratosphere

Always true to myself

Not in doubt of oneself

It’s my life

It’s my strife

I want to succeed

That is what I need.

That is what I need.

My life

My life

It’s my life.

When the song finished the colorful lady bowed under the sea of applauses, delighted and blossoming under them. Mercuria knew that Glam was the reason she had landed there, and so, she got up and walked towards her, nervous at the thought of talking with a complete stranger and worried that she would make a mess of herself with her damn mouth. The woman was being congratulated by many, both public and rivals, with a lot of them already had made their pick for who the winner of the prize was going to be. When the guitarist managed to get close to her and prepared to talk, the words pushed each other in her mind and were released in a disorganized manner, embarrassing Mercuria.

“Hi…uh…you…you did great.”

Shit, why can’t I talk like a normal person? The guitarist thought after what she considered a terrible communication attempt and began to feel ashamed of her difficulty to talk with others.

If Glam was affected by the other’s social skills, she didn’t show it. Instead, she smiled and winked her eye at the anxious lady in front of her, treating her like she would any other.

“Thanks, darling. I put a lot of work into it,” The singer said, happy to receive more praise of the results of her effort.

“I can imagine. My name… my name is Mercuria,” The young girl said, tending her hand to the singer after she finished her words.

“Glam. A pleasure to meet you,” Spoke the singer while taking the hand and shaking it alongside her conversation partner.

“Like the genre?” Mercuria asked, intrigued by the choice of the name and thinking how fitting it was for the woman.

“Yes. If Caesar Magic can choose his own name, why can’t I? The singer replied as she unconsciously accompanied her words by different gestures with her body, “I believe it says more about a person than the name given at birth.”

“Can’t disagree,” Mercuria said before noticing how she was distracting herself from the subject, so she searched for strength and tackled the reason why she was there.

“I’m on this…travel, and I need a band. I want you to come with me.”

In Glam’s eyes appeared a sparkle of curiosity, prompting her to ask her interlocutor about the travel she was talking about.

“What is this travel  of yours about?” The singer asked.

Many ideas went through the guitarist’s head as she searched for the best way to convince Glam of the veracity of her extraordinary story, ultimately taking the singer’s hand and forcing her to touch the Devil’s Pick. As the hair in Glam’s arms bristled, Mercuria saw how the singer gaze was set into infinity, and once she returned to reality her eyes pointed at the malicious object while they shined with an unmistakable greed, hypnotized by a power that pushed her to tighten her grasp over it. After noticing these signs Mercuria took the Pick from the singer’s hand brought her back to her senses, astounded of the recent revelation.

“Dear Gods… what is that thing?” The extravagant woman said as she assimilated the recently received information, with part of her rejecting it and birthing further confusion and fear.

“The Devil’s Pick,” confessed Mercuria to her ear to avoid anyone else to listen that accursed name.

“What… how…?” With her tongue tangled with the chaos ensuing in her mind, Glam couldn’t figure what to ask or say until the most prominent idea inside her head came out of her mouth, more to herself than to Mercuria. “That thing is just a myth, a fairy-tale.”

“It’s real and exceptionally dangerous in the wrong hands… or maybe in anyone’s,” Said Mercuria, thinking about the dangers of the Pick and collecting strength once more to say her next words. “I have to find the rest of the Remains and stop Belzerax when he returns. I want you to come with me.”

I must sound like a crazy person. The guitarist though after mentally reviewing what she had just said.

“Ok, this is a lot to take in, let’s just… let’s just get out of here. I need to think,” Glam said before walking towards one of the contest’s judges to tell that she wasn’t feeling well and that she was going out to take some air, afterwards prompting Mercuria to follow her.

A cool wind was passing outside in the grassy street, prompting the guitarist to close her jacket as she was waiting for the singer’s response, who looked at the ground at the same time she was biting the tip of her thumb, thinking.

“You know what you’re asking for isn’t easy, right?” Glam said while moving one of her hands to accompany the words. “Why are you even doing it in the first place?”

Mercuria was taken by surprise by the question and revisited her reason for the travel, not only to satisfy the woman she wanted to recruit to her mission but for herself too. She remembered what she thought after reading her grandfather’s letter, how she saw an opportunity to escape from the monotony and the doubts, to finally do something significant.

“My grandfather… he asked me in a letter after his death,” the guitarist began to say. “And I accepted, not for sheer altruism, but because I saw the chance to do something meaningful and live, to finally escape my doubts about the future and take control of my life. I wanted to experience one of the adventures I dreamed about when I was a kid and that my grandfather went through regularly, and to be part of something greater that would give some meaning to my existence. Belzerax is going to come back and I can stop him, and I will do it for myself above all.”

“I see,” The colorful woman said after hearing the other girl’s speech, intrigued and seeing a bit of herself in Mercuria. “Do you have someplace to stay tonight?”

After those words the guitarist opened her eyes, feeling that reality had just slapped her right in the face once she realized her situation.

“Dammit, I didn’t think about it!” Mercuria said as she took one of her hands to her head, thinking about how she would have to search for a hotel or a hostel with a vacant room while carrying all her luggage. Money wasn’t an issue thanks to the inheritance, but the idea of having to make such an effort when she felt tired and longing for a bed was painful.

“Relax darling, you can come to my house and we can talk better about everything,” Glam said as a smile returned to adorn her face, bringing a certain radiance to it.

“Really? Wow…thanks,” Said the guitarist, immediately feeling that she had said something wrong and hastily tried to explain herself. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s just…I…we’ve just met and I didn’t expect this… kindness.”

“Well hon, you don’t especially look like trouble, and since we still have to talk about your offer and you need somewhere to stay tonight we can take care of both problems that way,” The singer said much to Mercuria’s relief. “You seem tired too, so we can speak tomorrow with a nice breakfast and a warm cup of tea.”

“Sounds delightful,” The guitarist replied with pleasure.

Once their chat was over, both women moved back into the Thunderpub and waited to hear the judges’ decision about the contest results. After some seconds of tension had passed the winner was finally announced, and Glam exuded sheer joy once her name was released from the judges’ lips and walked to reclaim her prize under a tide of cheers. With the reward in her hands, the singer thanked the audience for assisting and recognized the ability of her rivals, encouraging them to not feel down and continue working hard. The two girls left shortly after.

Glam led the way across the city’s streets on their way to her house, helping Mercuria with some of her luggage and prompting her to avoid stopping to contemplate the buildings around her. The only exception to this was when a golden statue of a man holding a microphone caught her attention, when the singer confirmed her doubts about the identity of the figure represented, Joey Saturn, the vocalist of Broken Skies.

“The man with the best voice and style this city has ever made,” The singer said as she too gazed the sculpture, with eyes that were locked into a desire only visible to herself. “One day I will surpass him.”

“One day.”