Lost in Mist I.

Bridget Hatt sighed in relief when the students stood up to leave the classroom. She had worked and taught historiography at the University of Knapford for at least forty years and she was among the rare few who truly enjoyed it. She spoke four ancient languages, Latin, ancient Greek and Egyptian as well as ancient Sudrian as that was her favourite era - and the other one, an inevitable influence of her family's role in the Sudrian railways' history, was the industrial revolution. Bridget loved history with all her heart and after finishing her dissertation, she could travel to museums all over the world, though she eventually returned to Sodor and started researching Sudrian history while she accepted the role to teach as well.

However, Bridget Hatt was an elderly woman now, she had just turned seventy earlier that month and she was beginning to feel it. It was not that she had grown bored of her job, but having to deal with the ever more independent youth had begun to take its toll on her. She felt herself growing slower and more tired over the years and she was seriously considering resigning to go back to her hieroglyphs and codices. She couldn't deny anymore that she had become old and was relieved every time she announced the end of the lesson to a class.

Today was no different. While waiting for the last student to leave the room, Bridget walked up to the window to take a look at the outside world. Pure white puffs of steam could be seen behind the buildings and trees where she knew the Knapford Station ended; an engine, probably Gordon with the express, was preparing for another journey. She could almost hear the buzzing and chatter of people along with the constant clatter and puffing of the steam engines as they came and went and it brought a smile to her wrinkled face. Sodor's largest station was always full of life, full of stories to tell. Bridget thought about visiting her nephew in his office - she had two free hours - or just to go there to see the people and engines when someone interrupted her thoughts.

"Erm... excuse me, ma'am."

Bridget turned around to see one of her students, Anthony Raves standing before her. Anthony was studying for his bachelor's degree and was one of the more enthusiastic people there. He was a tall man in his early twenties and there was a small smile on his handsome face.

"Yes, Anthony?"

"I would like to ask for something." he began "I'm writing my thesis, and, as you know, it's about World War II."

"Yes, I know." Bridget chuckled gently "I know that is your favourite era. You told me about it."

Anthony nodded with a small blush before he continued, "I'd like to write it from different perspectives and about its effects on the British Isles. I searched the internet, read books and visited museums, but I thought... you could help me better. You specialize in ancient and modern history, and... I would like to ask you, ma'am, if you could help me. Maybe recommend a good book or a library I could get help from?"

Bridget thought for a moment. Of course, she had many books either written by herself, from other historians or witnesses from the war - after all, she herself was born during the war. She put on her coat and picked up her notes to leave the room with Anthony following her.

"Well," professor Hatt began "I have books and notes I myself made from the tales of those who had lived through the war. You know, Anthony, my father served in the army, too, before he was called back home to manage the North Western Railway here. These are valuable documents, but I can lend you some, if you need them for your thesis."

At that moment, she stopped in the middle of the stairs. Anthony stopped as well and looked at her with worry in his eyes. "Ma'am?" he asked, "Is everything alright?"

Bridget smiled at his student before she continued walking.

"Oh, yes." she said gently "I'm fine. I just had an idea. Will you have any more lessons?"

"No, I have two hours till the next one."

"Good." Bridget continued smiling, and that started to frighten Anthony. Bridget Hatt may have been old, but one would never know what she was up to. "Then, would you like to come with me to visit my nephew?"

Anthony's eyes widened. "Sir Richard Hatt?" he asked doubtfully "The director of the railway?"

"The one and only." Bridget laughed and Anthony had to smile, too. Ever since he came to Knapford to study, he had known Bridget Hatt as a cheerful woman with a good sense of humor, but recently, she smiled less and less. Anthony could imagine she was getting tired of the busy university life with all the students, arranging lectures and seminars to keep everything in order, and it was marvelous to see her smile again. However, it was not relieving to think of what she had in store for him, though by the time they got outside, Anthony had a guess what she was getting at.

"I have quite a lot of friends on the railways thanks to my father." the old woman continued as they walked slowly out of the campus "And I know someone who could help you even more than I can. If you want to hear things from a first-hand witness who lived through both world wars, then I know just the person who can tell you. Yes, you must meet him."

"Both world wars?" Anthony asked in surprise "Then... I guess it's not a human being you are talking about."

Bridget Hatt smiled, her old, brown eyes sparkled, "Of course not." she said as they stopped at the local bus stop, "Only the engines lived through them. And even among them, there are few who witnessed both, and even fewer who were serving on our railway at the time. In fact, only two engines lived through both world wars on the North Western Railway. One of them had been here even earlier, even before the railway existed as it does today. And you said you wanted to write it from different perspectives; why not the perspective of a steam engine? Here's the local bus that goes to the railway station."

The bus, a modern-looking, light blue vehicle came up to them with a toot of his horn and a bright smile on his greyish face.

"Good morning, dr. Hatt." he greeted the old professor; his voice had a deep, rich tone that boomed gently when he asked the woman, "How are you today?"

"Quite fine, thank you, Eric." smiled the elderly lady and they got up.

The ride to the Main Station was fairly quick even with all the stops they had to take to let off and pick up passengers. As they left the bus, Bridget walked in front of him with a smile on her face. "It was a really nice ride, Eric." she said with a playful spark in her eyes, "Do you ever make mistakes?"

Eric chuckled, it sent a small shudder down his frame. "Never, ma'am." With that, he closed his doors, "Have a nice day!" and rolled away to continue his rides along the city.

The distinct smell of steam could be felt even outside the station as the two made their way towards it. The gentle humming of the machines, soft whooshes of steam rising from the cylinders of the engines and the rhythmic pumping and puffing of their pistons gave the place an almost musical background among the chatter of the people. The station was old and new at the same time; people were here and there, talking on their mobile phones, surfing the internet on their tablets or laptops or listening to music as they waited for their train to come while a soft veil of steam lingered at their feet. The station building itself was clean, but wasn't modern in any way - it fit perfectly with an era where steam engines were the sole rulers of the railways. One just couldn't help feeling like they had travelled back in time, and that was exactly how Anthony felt.

Anthony wasn't a native of Knapford and he travelled back home to see his parents and siblings in Toryreck whenever he could, but he mostly travelled by bus. He hadn't travelled by train ever since he was a pre-teen, but he still had memories of the engines he saw then. Of course, almost everyone knew the railway's engines, it was them that made the Island of Sodor famous in the first place. They were the main attractions of the island, not just because they were steam locomotives, but because of their stories and what they represented. They were all persons with their own characteristics and biographies and that made their value equal to those great, almost legendary steam engines who nowadays resided at the National Railway Museum. Of course, there were other heritage railways where steam was still in use, but none as complex or famous as the Sudrian railways. Anthony knew that. And he knew Bridget was right - if someone, then one of these engines could surely help give an insight to those long gone years of Sodor and Britain.

Bridget Hatt's face seemed to brighten more and more as they stepped onto the platform just outside the station offices. There were three engines standing among the platforms at the time, talking to the passengers or their crews, discussing the last details of their upcoming journey with the drivers so that everything would go smoothly. The closest to them was a bright red Hughes Class engine with the number 5 on the side of his tender whom Anthony knew as James - he was part of the famous Steam Team, the eight core engines of the North Western Railway. He had three coaches that were now full and closed and when the stationmaster blew his whistle, James pumped his pistons and let off steam in preparation, and after a few quick, experimental rolls of his side rods, he took off to his journey and left the station. The two remaining engines there were No.1 Thomas, flagship of the railway and another, less known engine, No.10 Douglas. They both blew their whistles when they saw Bridget Hatt, the woman waved back to them with a warm smile on her face; and the two old engines' smiles to her were just as warm.

"Anthony?"

The young man snapped back to reality when he heard his professor's voice next to him. "Sorry, ma'am." he stuttered, embarrassed when he noticed he was staring at the two steam engines talking to each other at the other side of the station.

"I asked the stationmaster if Richard is here. He will receive us now, let's go."

Anthony's heart was beating fast as he followed Bridget inside and up the stairs. Aside from the people working on the railway, few had met Sir Richard Topham Hatt face-to-face. It wasn't because the man isolated himself - sure, he worked long hours in his office, but he always had time to come out, visit and talk to his workers; mostly the engines.

It seemed as if the joy of life returned to the old, tired teacher. Bridget Hatt's face shone with a smile and she climbed the stars with relative ease that even a youngster could have envied, though she was panting and red in the face by the time they reached the first floor. Fortunately, they did not have to climb any more, Sir Richard's office was right there at the end of the hallway.

However, Anthony couldn't help himself and had to ask Bridget,

"Ma'am, are you sure we won't bother the director?"

The elderly woman smiled at him. "I am welcome here." she said, "And we won't be here for long. We only need to ask him a question, then you can go if you want."

With that, she knocked on the door and a moment later the director opened it.

Richard Hatt, great-grandson of the railway's first director, was a tall, middle-aged man and the first thing Anthony noticed was his chocolate brown eyes that sparkled in the same way as Bridget's; when he saw his aunt, the baronet smiled brightly and closed her in a loving embrace.

"Auntie," he said "it's good to see you. Can I help you with something?"

"Actually, yes." Bridget gestured to Anthony to come closer. "This is my student, Anthony Raves."

"Nice to meet you, sir." the young historian said as he shook hands with the railway's director and Sodor's baronet.

"Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Raves." Richard Hatt nodded politely with a smile. "So, what can I do for you?"

"I..." Anthony looked at Bridget who nodded reassuringly "I'm writing a thesis, sir, about the second World War in Great-Britain, and dr. Hatt told me that maybe... I could find help here on the railway."

After hearing this, Sir Richard looked at his aunt with a knowing look and a smile just as mysterious as hers, "So you wanted to ask where you can find Edward?"

"Exactly." Bridget nodded. "He's a good storyteller. Is he free now?"

Without further questions, the director went back to his desk and picked up a long and complicated timetable. He searched for a while, but eventually found what he was looking for. "Yes, Edward." he murmured and looked up, "He had to take a goods train to Tidmouth, he must have arrived by now. He has one more hour before his next job, so I assume he must be resting at the Tidmouth Sheds. I'm sure you can find him there."

Anthony smiled. "Thank you, sir."

"We'll ask an engine if they could take you to Tidmouth." said Bridget before turning back to her nephew, "Thank you, Richard."

"Not at all." he shook hands with Anthony and hugged Bridget. "Will you come back?"

"Of course." the old woman smiled and they both left the office.

Thomas and Douglas were still at the station, both of them already in steam to be ready when they had to go, though only Douglas had coaches coupled to him. It was a rare sight; Douglas and his twin, Donald were goods engines, they almost never pulled passenger trains. As Bridget and Anthony made their way to them, the stationmaster blew his whistle that signalled the departure of the train and, after a few quick, harder pumps of his pistons, Douglas started rolling out of the station with a steadily accelerating pace. Only Thomas remained there and he smiled when he saw the two humans walk up to him.

"Good morning, dr. Hatt." he greeted Bridget. Anthony wasn't surprised by that; everyone addressed her as 'dr.', the title 'Lady Hatt' always went to the wife of the current baronet and director of the railway. However, he was bewildered when the small tank engine turned his eyes to him and greeted him as well, "Good morning, sir."

Anthony blushed a little, he had never been called 'sir' before and he rarely talked to the vehicles and locomotives, it was still strange to him. However, Bridget smiled warmly at her old friend.

"Hello, Thomas." she said, "Do you know if Edward is still at Tidmouth?"

"Yes, he's there." Thomas answered, "He told me he would stay there a little before he goes to Suddery."

"Good." Bridget nodded, "Could you take this young man to Tidmouth? He would like to meet Edward."

Thomas looked at Anthony and smiled. "Gladly." he said. "I still have some time until my next train. You can ride in my cab. The way to Tidmouth is not too long."

Anthony stared at the blue E2 Class engine. He knew the stories that were told about the cheeky little tank engine's adventures, but he was no longer that young and naive child; his eyes and face still carried that youthful and confident shine in them, but his voice was now a mature tenor, vibrating with experience and the decades had left their mark on his features. He did not look old, but not young either. Really, how old was he? Eighty? Ninety? Anthony knew that he and Edward were the first engines when the North Western Railway was completed, thus the number 1 on his side tanks, but Thomas was not at all the oldest engine on the railway. Edward was older than him and was there before him, he helped to build the railway, at least that was what Anthony heard. But why was Edward just Number 2 then? What had made him give his place away?

Thomas' driver came out and invited Anthony inside Thomas' cab and the student climbed up. He was now getting excited with all the questions that came to his mind as he recalled the stories he was told about these engines and he was eager to know the answers - he just hoped that Edward would really be willing to share his story with him. Bridget did not go with him this time, she remained standing next to Thomas and smiled up at him one last time.

"I have to go now." she said and raised her hand to caress the engine's grey face lightly, bringing a bright smile to said face. "Don't take it too hard, will you?"

Thomas, mature or not, flashed his famous cheeky smile as he felt steam fill his cylinders. "What makes you think I would?"

"Oh, I have no idea." Bridget laughed and backed away to let Thomas go. The little steamy tooted his whistle and with a whooshing sound, he was out of the station.

The journey really wasn't long at all and Thomas kept a smooth and steady pace throughout it. White, healthy puffs of smoke left his funnel in rhythm with the pumping of his pistons. His driver kept a hand on his throttle and did little to direct Thomas - he even joked that these engines could manage without drivers on their own. Anthony smiled a little; of course, it wasn't true, but Thomas really made it seem like it was. He had travelled these lines for long decades, he really didn't need guidance as to where to go. He seemed so carefree, and his crew were relaxed as well. His fireman sometimes shovelled coal into his firebox, it burnt nicely and his gauges stood at satisfying levels. Sometimes his driver - a middle-aged man named Jim - shouted out to him to ask him if everything was alright and clear and Thomas would answer that it was; Anthony couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't given a chance to get to know these locos more closely earlier. They really had something to tell.

At last they entered the outskirts of a city, Tidmouth, and stopped at a big, white shed. There was a turntable in front of the roundhouse and seven berths opened from it with rails leading to each - that was where the engines rested and slept. Thomas stopped on the turntable and let off steam. "We are here, sir." he announced to Anthony.

Anthony thanked the ride and said goodbye to Thomas' crew as he hopped down from the engine's cab. He walked ahead to see the small locomotive's face and Thomas smiled down at him.

"Thank you for the ride." Anthony said.

"You're welcome." came the answer. "Edward is right there at the first berth. I have to go back now. Have a nice day!"

Anthony walked out of the turntable as Thomas was turned back to the opposite direction, and with a blow of his whistle he left the sheds and went back to his work. Anthony turned around as well; the sheds were clean except for the black lines above each door where the engines passed as they entered and left their resting place, the smoke they expelled made it sooty. There was only one engine at the sheds, right where Thomas told him.

Edward.

His class, the K2 were referred to as "Larger Seagull" by some. They worked on the Furness Railway along the south-west coast of Cumbria, and that was also where Edward came from. By nowadays, he was the last of his kind. The North Western Railway was connected to the Mainland at Vicarstown through the Walney Channel which led to Barrow-in-Furness, but that did not exist at the time Edward came to the island - in fact, the North Western Railway itself didn't exist back then. Edward was one of the engines who helped build it, that much Anthony knew, and he was the oldest locomotive of the railway. He was a real classic and Anthony took a deep breath before he walked up to the ancient steam engine.

Edward noticed him earlier when Thomas arrived with him; he had just managed to doze off when they arrived, but looked down curiously at the young student. Anthony expected a much older-looking engine - sure, Edward did not look as young as Thomas, but apart from a few small wrinkles at the side of his eyes and mouth, his face didn't look like that of an elderly man. Maybe all engines were like that, but it was his eyes that showed his true age. Those eyes were full of wisdom, hardened and softened by the eras he had lived through, eyes that had seen many things throughout the years and held their secret enclosed in them. Anthony also noticed that Edward's eyes weren't a pure brown colour like Thomas' or the other engines' he saw back at Knapford - his was a dirty mix of brown and green, neither and both at the same time, but they sparkled nevertheless as they looked down upon Anthony and shone with the kind smile the old engine gave him.

"Good morning, young man." Edward greeted him. "Who are you?"

His voice wasn't tired or raspy like Anthony expected, it was deep and tender that reminded Anthony of his father. He smiled back shyly when Edward addressed him and answered with all the confidence he had.

"I'm Anthony Raves, sir." he stuttered.

"Sir?" Edward chuckled lightly, "There's no need to call me that. I'm just an engine. My name is Edward. What can I do for you?"

Everyone on the Island of Sodor knew who Edward was, but he was polite; Anthony collected himself and went forward with his request.

"I'm... I study history at the University of Knapford, and I'm writing my thesis for my bachelors's degree. A... friend of mine told me that maybe you could help me with that..."

To Anthony's surprise, Edward laughed. It was as if the idea amused him. "Bridget sent you here?" he finally asked, the remains of laughter still brightened his face.

"Actually, yes." Anthony replied, blushing a little. "So, I guess I'm not the first to come to you."

"That devilish woman..." Edward said to himself with a smile. "Two months ago, a young lady came up to me to ask if I could tell her about the times before the North Western Railway was completed. She was writing about the Sudrian railways before World War I, and I came in handy because I worked on the Wellsworth and Suddery Railway before we built the NWR. She told me that Bridget sent her to ask me about the old railways before they were merged into this. Are you here for the same reason?"

"No, not exactly." Anthony said and cleared his throat. "I wanted to ask you... if you could tell me about the years of the... World War II."

Anthony watched Edward's face; the old engine didn't wince, but his smile turned sad and serious.

"I'm afraid," he began and Anthony's heart sank "this time I cannot help with that. After all, most of the war had taken place on the continent. Apart from the air raids, not much happened here on the Isles. I don't have much to tell."

Anthony listened to him with rapidly beating heart. A part of him expected this answer, but he didn't want to accept it. His interest was sparked now and he wanted to hear whatever this engine had to tell.

"That... that doesn't matter." he said "I want to write about its effects on Great Britain and I could use every information I can get. Even if it's not much. And I'm writing it from different perspectives as well. There's hardly anything in the documents about the events on Sodor and... I'm a historian, so it would be great to work with a witness."

Edward listened without a word and did not say anything for a while. Anthony hoped he didn't say anything wrong and that he would manage to persuade Edward to tell him his story. It was like the old engine was considering things before he spoke quietly, "It was many decades ago. What if I don't remember clearly?"

Anthony thought Edward was testing him, his determination, but he wanted to show him that he was serious about his question. He shrugged and said, "Well, it must have been a mess. The accounts of witnesses show that it was a complicated era with different experiences that may or may not be remembered correctly."

Edward chuckled absently. "Just like hearing Bridget..." he said to himself quietly before turning back to Anthony. "But you were right. It was a complicated era. Those were... different times. Most of the engines you see here today weren't on the railway back then. It was even before Toby, the number 7 engine of the railway arrived here. The Steam Team consisted of only six members and there were... different ones. Engines people don't remember anymore."

The blue K2 became silent once again and Anthony didn't dare say anything. Nothing could be seen on Edward's face, but after a while he looked at Anthony and it seemed the sparkle had returned to his eyes. "Did you know that I was once the leader of this railway?"

Anthony's eyes widened in surprise. From what he heard about him and from what he just saw, this engine didn't seem the type who would want to be something like that. And why him? What had happened to the director?

"No, I didn't." Anthony replied quietly. "But what happened then? Why did you decide to stay back while the other engines gained more attention? And... why are you just Number 2 if you were here earlier than Thomas?"

Edward smiled again, but this time, the smile was old and lenient like that of a grandfather's. "I never liked being in the spotlight. No one would know about my leadership because I didn't tell anyone. Only my friends know who were here at the time. And before that, I was part of the Sudrian Railway Council along with Skarloey, another engine, at the time of Sir Phineas Hatt, the first director. And the reason Thomas is the No.1 engine of this railway is another story. In fact, he was the first engine who arrived here, just after we completed the North Western Railway. Sir Phineas Hatt at first didn't want to renumber the engines who previously worked on the completion of the NWR and so Thomas became Number One on the new railway. But since the director decided to keep only me from the originals... he asked me if I wanted to be number 1, but I refused. Thomas is doing a better job being the flagship of this railway. The kid learnt his place."

The elder locomotive went silent again and his gaze became distant. It seemed as if he was just talking to himself when he started speaking again in a soft, quiet voice. "Why not? Even the memory can't hurt now..." he then turned his eyes back to the waiting student before he continued, "But not here and not now. Come to the Knapford Station tomorrow, I'll meet you there if you still want to hear my story. I have to go back to work now, and I assume you still have lessons."

Anthony snapped back to reality and nodded. "Yes, I have. Erm..."

Edward chuckled softly. "I'll give you a ride in my cab back to Knapford. It's on the way to Suddery anyway."

"Thank you, Edward. And thank you for... helping me."

The old engine didn't say anything, just gave Anthony a small, quick smile. A few minutes later his driver and fireman came and Edward told them to let Anthony ride with them in his cab; they agreed and the young historian was soon back at Knapford Station.

He still had some time before his next lesson started and he decided to sit down on one of the benches at the platform and watch as Sodor's living engines came and went and talked to their passengers. It really was like stepping into a different era - and soon, Anthony hoped, another gate would open to that faraway era that was lost in mist.