The smell of old metal and smoke filled the air of the train station, with a few people scurrying around in anticipation. An echoed rumbling incoming was enough of a sign to catch the attention of the satyr on the bench closest to the ticket office, tearing his eyes away from the wrinkled newspaper he held. His gaze shifted up to the arrival times on an old wooden sign; LOWFIELD VILLAGE TO PYTHON SPRINGS - ARR. He shifted, glancing down at his, both physically and metaphorically golden, ticket to make sure everything was in order for the millionth time, and unchanged was his name written in bold printed letters, Apollo. Fiddling with his hair, pushing it against his short but hardened horns, he gathered his belongings. The rumbling grew close as the train slowly screeched to a halt and the satyr stood up, grasping the brown briefcase his mother graciously helped him pack.
Before he could walk out to his train car, however, a tall humanoid figure with tanned, freckled skin and pastel-green hair, or what appeared to be hair that is, bumped into him. The briefcase stumbled out of Apollo's hand, and his gaze snapped to it on the ground. Bending his knees to retrieve it, he flexed his fingers where the ticket once was. Wait...
"What in the-?"
He searched for the yellowed paper on the floor around him quickly before rising above the crowd. His head whipped around before settling his rectangular pupils on the backside of the thin figure, "Hey!"
The figure turned his head around slowly and blinked wide eyed. There was a moment where they were both frozen in place while the whole world moved around them. A shorter person with dark skin and a large, curly ponytail walked up to the figure and said something Apollo couldn't make out, before a slender hand grabbed hers and dashed onto the train.
Apollo hastily scooped up his briefcase and chased the duo, boarding the train while apologizing profusely to the variety of passengers he had to shove out of the way. The aisle between seats was thin, too thin for either the thieves or Apollo to move as quickly as they wanted to. But the taller figure made it out to the next car first, jumping over an elderly gorgon woman who proceeded to scold the shorter figure for the incident. Apollo was able to catch up with the other thief due to the obstacle.
"Hey, yer buddy stole my ticket!"
"I-I don't know him, I swear!" She had a noticeable accent from across the Diamen Mountains and was obviously a bad liar, but seemed confused nonetheless.
"Well lemme help you get away from this lady then," he half-joked, offering a hand to the woman that she shyly took before running past the gorgon who whined obscenities behind them.
"I told him this was a stupid idea, that idiot-"
"And, also, illegal!" Apollo cracked open the metal door to the next train car.
It seemed like the two of them had entered a luggage car. Pounding on the adjacent door, the taller person seemed to struggle to open it. The woman tapped her foot, "Ahem-"
The thief turned to look at them once again, his gaze traveling from Apollo, then to the shorter woman, instantly reading her frustrated expression. He wiggles the door handle while smiling nervously, crinkling his eyes when he does so, and waving meekly with the other hand, "...Fionaaa-"
"Isaac, what the fuck? Ya think stealing tickets is the best way to get to Python Springs?"
"It'll be so much faster!-"
"We'll get caught, ya dumbass! Then we won't even make it to the fountain because we'll get arrested and I'll get sent back across the ravines!"
"All the bridges and tunnels have been destroyed anyways, you physically can't get deported-"
"Hey!" Apollo interrupts their argument, "Look, can I just get my ticket back, please? Then you two can get off this train and-"
The room begins to shake as the screeching and whining of metal overpowers the bickering. They stand in silence for a moment as reality settles in. The three of them were on this train, and only one would be there legitimately. Apollo puts a hand to his forehead, dragging it down slowly. The tanned figure, Isaac, Apollo assumes, shifts his feet, whistling in an attempt to be nonchalant and swiveling to walk to the other door. Deadpan, Fiona grabs the taller's shoulder, "...we stuck here, then?"
"Well, you two definitely are, but I..." Apollo snatches his ticket out of Isaacs back pocket, "...am not."
"But we need that-"
"I paid for it!"
"Boys, boys!" Fiona chimes in, "Lets just hide out here, would any personnel check the luggage car for tickets, anyways?"
Apollo mutters, "In all honesty, they likely would..."
"We can hide, though!" Isaac grabs a suitcase and shoves himself into the cubby it was once in, pulling it in front of him. It stuck out like a sore thumb.
Apollo was about to turn away, taking his ticket and claiming victory over the thieves. However, if he's ever been anything, he's been sympathetic to a fault. Many times back on his family's farm in Lowfield, he would take the extra work that was originally for his younger brothers and sisters when they had plans, even if it put his own plans off. The satyr felt conflicted, intrigued by the desperation of the two travelers. He knew he would be taking a risk by helping them. He finally convinced himself, remembering his sister's routine, 'It won't be much different than letting Arrietty skip shucking corn to see her friends every weekend.'
"Isaac, no way in hell is that going to work," Apollo squatted in front of the suitcase, pulling it away and making eye contact with the plant-haired thief, "Besides, there's a pile of luggage over there that'd be much easier to hide in–"
Without another word, Isaac dove from the cubby into the mountain of bags and boxes. It was hard to tell where one container began and the other ended, so it made for an alright spot to hunker down for a while. Fiona, careful not to disturb the mound, stepped into the back corner behind it. Apollo followed, grabbing a duffel bag and placing it in the corner closest to him. He glanced from Fiona, who was fiddling with her hair, to Isaac, locking eyes. He stared curiously at Apollo as if he'd just climbed out of a well covered in sludge. Apollo fidgeted under his gaze as Isaac cleared his throat.
"Why are you staying here?"
"Pardon?"
"You got your ticket back. You can go to the regular cars."
"Mmm... well, ya seem like fine folks, just down on yer luck I s'pose."
Isaac glanced at Fiona, then back to Apollo. 'What is with this guy and the eye contact?' Apollo shifted, slightly flustered under the attention.
"...What brought y'all here, anyways?"
It was Fiona's turn to be uncomfortable in this conversation, tugging the once curly ponytail that sat on her collarbone into a straight line.
"Well... I-I was visiting family... and now I'm going back home."
"You have family in Lowfield? What's the name, I probably know 'em." Apollo tilted his head, picking up immediately on the fact that she was lying but deciding to see if she would commit to the act.
Fiona continued stressing her hair, "eh... Ó Breen?"
"Haven't heard of 'em..." Apollo thought for a moment, "Pardon me for asking but what kind of monster are ya? Never heard that kinda name before."
Fiona sighed, knowing she wasn't getting anywhere with the lies, "Ok, ok. I'm a Selkie."
"A selkie?" Apollo had never heard of a selkie in Lowfield, let alone in the desert fields. Selkies were from the cold northern oceans. What was a selkie doing here?
"I'm from across the mountains," Fiona paused, contemplating how far to tell her story. She had already told Isaac, but she could trust him. Apollo had helped them both, sure, but it was ultimately for his ticket and then his curiosity.
"That makes more sense. Is he a foreigner as well?"
"I may not be a foreigner but I've traveled as far as the eye can see, and then some!" Isaac exclaims proudly, "I found Fiona at a resting place on a route I was taking, and she was a total mess with, like, 50 maps all laid out trying to find her way!–"
"There was more like 3 maps-" Fiona interrupted, pouting at the inaccuracy.
"Either way, I figured I might as well just lead her to wherever she was headed. I had nothing better to do."
"...Ya don't have a job or somethin?"
"Why would I want one of those?" Isaac's nose crinkled in a sort of playful disgust.
"...you need money to survive?"
Apollo felt a tingle run up his spine when he heard Isaac chuckle, "clearly you've been living under a rock your whole life."
The satyr paused, considering the man's words, "Hmph... well... whatever you're here for, I'd be happy to help you find it...
...once we get off this train."
