Squeaky Pedal (Rails to Remos)

The train swayed as it wound through the canyons, iron wheels keeping time like a metronome. Kiro rested his guitar across his knees, picking a lazy rhythm while Daro drummed fingertips against the window ledge.

Across from them, Aria flicked her wrist, and a piano of soft white light shimmered into being before her. She pressed a chord, testing its weight as the glow settled into something solid.

“Did you ever fix that pedal?” Kiro asked without looking up.

Aria grinned and rolled her eyes. “It’s not broken...”

“I only ask because I’d hate to see Maestra Luthren throw another shaker at your head during rehearsal.”

Aria snorted. “Pfft, she was aiming at Daro.”

Daro’s eyes went wide. “Hey, I was just trying to spice up the song!” He broke into laughter anyway, tapping a quick roll against the window.

Aria smiled in spite of herself and pressed down the pedal. It gave a familiar, mouse-like squeak. She held it a beat too long, daring them to complain.

“I didn’t realize lumen-pianos even needed maintenance,” Daro said, smirking.

“Seriously, oil it before we get there...or.. whatever you do to fix lumens. We just need everything to be perfect.” Kiro added.

Aria just grinned and hit another chord, letting the squeak blend into the rhythm of the rails.

“Anyway,” Daro cut in, “think she’ll go easy on us this time?”

Aria raised a brow. “The final rehearsal in Remos? She’ll eat us alive.”

“Good,” Kiro said. “If we can survive her, we can survive anything. Even the First Song.”

Aria’s fingers stilled above the keys. For a heartbeat, the train’s rhythm felt like a countdown, steady and unchanging.

Daro broke the silence with a half-smile. “Strange, isn’t it? Last cycle was only fifty years ago. My grandfather played percussion for the opening verse. Said it was like the world itself leaned in to listen.”

Kiro strummed a single note and let it ring. “And here we are, three kids with too much to prove.”

“Not kids,” Aria corrected softly, eyes on the passing cliffs. “By the time we leave Remos, we’ll be the musicians of this age.”

“Yeah—if we get through auditions,” Kiro shot back.

Aria smirked. “Exactly. We’re only going up against the best Cantors from all over Sonaris. What if we don’t make the cut?”

“Not a chance,” Daro said quickly. “I’ve never played beside a sharper ear than Kiro, and your hands make that piano sing - even with a squeaky pedal.” He shot Aria a quick wink.

Kiro gave a lopsided grin. “Same goes for you, Daro. Nobody makes a train car sound like a drum kit quite like you.”

The three of them laughed, the weight of their task lifting for just a breath. The train kept time, the pedal squeaked, and together it almost felt like music.

The tunnel to Mirae took three years to renovate in preparation for the Sonarail’s expansion — an entire third story added so more passengers could make the rare, days-long journey across Sonaris aboard the only train that runs its rails.