Tidmouth Sheds are the main locomotive sheds on the North Western Railway. There are eight berths to house eight locomotives. On the leftmost berth close to a siding sat James after taking his goods from Brendam.

Right now, the red engine was in a sour mood, and a fly buzzing around him didn't improve his temper either.

"Shoo fly!" snapped James, "Buzz off!"

Thomas was backing down into the siding next to James' shed after taking a slow goods train from Ffarquhar. However, he wasn't paying attention to where he was chuffing and hit the buffers quite roughly.

"Botheration!" he cried as his eyes spun in surprise.

"You weren't concentrating, Thomas," scolded James, slightly amused, "lucky for you that the buffers were there."

"That's what buffers are for – to stop accidents," said Thomas, "that's why the workmen are repairing them. What are you doing in the sheds, James?"

"I got into an argument with Henry," grumbled James, "he criticized me for not wanting to get my paint dirty, and I talked back to him for needing special coal again. The Fat Controller heard this and told me to stay in the sheds until I could think of all the ways to be really useful. Then I can come out again."

"He's just trying to make this a better railway for us," assured Thomas, "the Fat Controller says the harder us North Western engines work, the less he'll need engines on the other railway to help."

"Help you?! Ha!"

Thomas and James jumped and looked to their left; while Thomas had been talking, he hadn't noticed a diesel creep up alongside him. He was a Class 42 Warship painted olive green with tan stripes on his sides. This was the diesel Thomas and Gordon encountered earlier at Knapford Station.

"Diesel 10…" said Thomas crossly.

"You'll always need help," Diesel 10 sneered, "because steam engines are cowardly, cranky, worn-out hunks of metal who couldn't hurt a fly!"

That comment was hurled at James, the fly still bugging him even more.

"No we're not!"

"Yes you are."

"Aren't!"

"Are!"

"Silence!"

The argument stopped when a hand caught the fly, crushing it. The hand belonged to Sir Topham Hatt, who'd heard everything. He shot a stern glare at Diesel 10.

"I want you on your best behavior, Diesel 10," he said severely, "Miss Celestia will inform me on your behavior and I will decide whether or not you will be allowed on my railway again. Understood?"

"Not to worry, sir," Diesel 10 smirked, "I'll try me best to stay on my best behavior."

"I should hope so," said Sir Topham Hatt, and on that note, he turned on his heel and walked away. After he had left, Diesel 10 turned to Thomas and James.

"Things are going to change around here, puffballs!" he grinned, "Right, driver!"

At that moment, Diesel 10's side door opened up, revealing…

"Discord?!"

"Well, who were you expecting?" came a reply, "George Carlin?"

Discord was a man somewhere in his late forties with reddish-brown eyes, dark gray hair tied into a ponytail at the back, light gray eyebrows and goatee, wore a yellow business shirt with a blue necktie, a brown vest, red and light brown vertical striped trousers, a dark pink belt, a green right boot and light brown left boot. His facial hair made him bear a striking resemblance to John de Lancie.

His real name was Richard Cory, but he goes by the moniker Discord instead. He was once boyfriend to Miss Celestia, but there was a breakup that nobody was sure about.

"What are you doing as Diesel 10's driver?" asked Thomas.

"Hey, a guy's gotta make a living, ya know," retorted Discord.

"Yeah, and let me tell ya something else," continued Diesel 10, "we're not here to work for Fat Hatt; we're gonna dominate and destroy you! When we're done with our plan, you'll be nothing but a pile of useless scrap!"

With that, Discord climbed back into the cab and Diesel 10 snaked away, laughing evilly.

"Big bully!" snapped James furiously.

"We're really useful engines!" Thomas called as the big diesel left, "diesels like you won't dominate or destroy us! We won't let you, and neither will Miss Celestia. I'm off to fetch her now!"

Shortly afterward, Thomas puffed away, leaving alone a stunned James.

"Who'd even let a nut-job like him be a driver anyway?" he asked to no one in particular.

Killdane Station is the junction to the Peel Godred electric branchline. It makes two stops at Abbey and Kirk Machan, the latter serving a junction to a mountain railway. A teenage boy of seventeen was working on a new welcome sign with the help of a map of Sodor.

Like myself, Miss Celestia, and the five girls, he plays an important role in the story as well. He has blue hair, cornflower blue eyes, wears a black jacket with a horizontal white and red stripe across, a white T-shirt, blue jeans, and black tennis shoes with white soles. On his T-shirt is a two-tone sapphire blue shield behind a yellow lightning bolt. His name is Flann Sentry, but he goes by Flash Sentry instead.

"There we go; the paintjob's finished!" he said with a satisfied smile, "I reckon this is the best welcome sign I've ever painted. This map of Sodor really helped out a lot."

Then Flash heard a distant whistle; he knew it was a certain blue express engine thundering down the line, and could hear whistles sooner than they heard themselves.

Down the line, Gordon was thundering along with the express, making the return journey to Knapford from Barrow-in-Furness, at the other end of the mainline connecting to the other railway.

"Hurry, hurry, hurry!" he panted to the coaches. Up ahead, he noticed something rather out of place; a motorcyclist in black.

Before Gordon could say anything, he noticed that he and the motorcyclist where heading for a crossing without gates!

"Brakes, driver!" Gordon cried, and brakes hard as he could, whistling loudly and scaring a flock of birds out of a tree above him. The motorcyclist passed on by without looking, and thankfully, the big express engine missed her.

"Watch where you're going!" Gordon shouted crossly to the motorcyclist, "You could've caused an accident or worse!"

After the near calamity, Gordon's brakes were released and he carried on down the mainline, still shaken.

"That was a close call," remarked Gordon's driver.

"That motorcyclist has no respect for railway safety," agreed the fireman.

Soon enough, Gordon steamed into Killdane station. Flash noticed that the big express engine was still shaken up.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Some crazy motorcyclist ran out in front of me and almost caused an accident," explained Gordon, "that person was lucky I was able to have my brakes applied or worse…"

"I know what you mean," said Flash. Then he remembered something and brought the map out. "What are these mysterious shadowy lines from Peel Godred to Vicarstown? They look like railway tracks, but I can't see any other lines other than what you engines travel on."

"It's a mystery," said Gordon, "one of the things that make Sodor so…"

"Magical?" Flash guessed.

"Eeyup," replied Gordon, "I must be hanging around Big Macintosh lately."

This caused engine, crew and boy to laugh a bit.

"Well, I'm off to Muffle Mountain," said Flash, "I promised Shining Armor and Cadance I'd clean out their yard today."

"Do they ever give you a smile?" asked Gordon's driver.

"Cadance, sometimes. But Shining Armor, not as much," Flash shrugged, "but he doesn't scare my horse either. So I don't think he's a bad man; I think he's sad…"

I can guess why, Gordon thought to himself.

"I serve the Fat Controller proud," he said, "but you and your horse can pretty much cover every acre on Sodor."

"We sure do," agreed Flash.

"Well, I and other engines can only stick to rails," added Gordon, "so it'd help to keep your eyes open for a stranger."

"Oh, I will," said Flash, "thanks for the tip, Gordon." And with that he walked off the platform, mounted on his horse, (which was tied to a pole at the time) and rode away.

At Wellsworth, Big Macintosh was making his way to the station. He was a nineteen year old man with ginger hair, green eyes, freckles, a red jacket with a brown collar, a white T-shirt, blue jeans, a belt, and red tennis shoes with white soles. His full name is Macintosh Apple-Smith, but most call him Big Macintosh or simply Big Mac for short because of his large, muscular body structure. With him was a female dog with black eyes, tangelo fur with patches of white, and a red neckcollar. Her name is Winona, and like Miss Celestia, she plays a big role in the story.

Trevor had broken down and Big Macintosh needed to phone for some help. As he climbed the station ramp, he realized he wasn't alone. On the platform with her arms crossed was Chrysalis, the motorcyclist Gordon had encountered earlier. Winona growled at the mysterious woman.

She was a woman in her mid-twenties with dark cerulean hair, moderate green eyes, very deep opal eyeshadow, wore a dark gray button front corset trimmed with turquoise, a dark cerulean skirt trimmed with turquoise, black boots, and she had taken off her jacket, helmet and goggles, which were now sitting on her motorcycle. Chrysalis didn't look very friendly.

"You must be Big Macintosh, I presume," she sneered, "do you know who I am?"

"Eeyup," said Big Macintosh, and spoke matter-of-factly, "yer Quinn Chrysalis and ya left Sodor a coupla of years ago."

"And now I'm back with a simple question," the mean woman scowled, "where's Shining Armor and Cadance?"

"Wherever they wanna be," said Big Macinosh firmly. Winona growled and barked in agreement.

"Shut up, you stupid mutt!" Chrysalis snapped at Winona, before returning her focus to Big Macintosh, "Anyway, playing innocent, like the rest of this pathetic railway, eh? It's not gonna work, Macintosh! I'll find them one way or another!"

"Eeyup, there's innocence in this railway, alright," said Big Macintosh, "and it would be best if ya left it be."

Chrysalis just turned and left, but not without taking a swing at a basket of flowers on the way.

"Ignorant woman," muttered Big Macintosh, picking up the flowers, "she wouldn't know the truth even if it were looking her in the face."

BARK! BARK!

At that moment, Fluttershy walked up to the platform.

"Oh my!" she gasped, "What happened to the flowers?"

"Knocked over by someone who doesn't belong here," Big Macintosh explained, "her name is Quinn Chrysalis and she refuses to believe in magic."

"I better put these in some water," said Fluttershy, accepting the flowers and racing off.

Chrysalis isn't the only one who doesn't fit in with Sodor; another example comes in the form of three teenage girls, and no, those three are not amongst me and the other five girls. Their names are Sunset Shimmer, Trixie Lulamoon, and Lillian Dust, or by her moniker, Lightning Dust.

Sunset Shimmer is the leader of the three, aged seventeen with vivid crimson hair streaked with yellow stripes, cyan eyes, a purple shirt with a red and yellow shimmering sun on it, a black jacket, orange jeans, and black boots. Cruel and manipulative, pretty much everyone fears her.

Trixie is a girl of sixteen with dark purple eyes, pale cornflower blue hair with even paler cornflower blue streaks, a blue hoodie with light blue stars on the elbows, a sleeveless purple dress with a magic wand and crescent moon on it, and blue boots. With over-the-top boasting, she often refers to herself as "the Great and Powerful Trixie."

Lightning Dust is also at the age of sixteen with amber hair streaked with gold stripes, gamboge eyes, a light blue jacket with yellow and orange stars on it, a pale blue T-shirt with a lightning bolt on it, white shorts, and blue tennis shoes. Lightning Dust loves putting herself to the limit and is extremely reckless.

These three girls might have little in common, but there's one thing all three can agree with – they hate steam engines. At the moment they were down at Brendam Docks, observing an emerald green 4-2-2 tender engine shunting trucks into place.

This engine is Emily, a replica of a Great Northern Railway Stirling Single, and the North Western Railway's number twelve. She arrived on Sodor back in 1986 to run passenger services on Thomas' branchline and the mainline, but is often found on goods trains as well. She's a kind friendly sort, often a big sister to the smaller engines, but she can tense sometimes.

As Emily was shunting trucks, she heard the three girls begin to make fun of her.

"It's no wonder your sisters were replaced," Sunset Shimmer taunted at Emily, "your big wheels never made you strong enough!"

"Yeah, look at her," Lightning Dust snickered, "she's so old, she makes my grandma run like a cheetah!"

This made the girls laugh, but Emily was quite angry. "I'd rather have big wheels than a rotten personality!" she snapped at the trio.

"Well, at least Trixie doesn't have some silly Scottish accent," sniffed Trixie, "they make it hard for others you understand you!"

At that moment, Thomas puffed in, having been given orders to help Emily at the docks before collecting Miss Celestia.

"What's going on here?" he asked.

"Those girls were making fun of me wheels and accent," Emily fumed.

"How dare you make fun of her!" Thomas snapped crossly, "If you got no business being in a serious environment, then I suggest you go away!" And he wheeshed steam at them, soaking the trio from head to toe.

"Good work there, Thomas," chuckled his driver.

"Have it your way, steam kettle," fumed Sunset, and the three girls sulked off.

"Thanks for the help, Thomas," Emily smiled.

"You're welcome, Emily," Thomas replied, "it wasn't very nice of Sunset Shimmer and her friends to make fun of you like that."

"You can say that again," agreed Emily, "I have no idea why they hate us steam engines."

"Nor do I," said Thomas, "but once I'm done here, I'm picking up Miss Celestia."

"Well, good luck with that, Thomas," said Emily.

"Thank you, Emily." As soon as he was uncoupled from his train, Thomas puffed off to fetch Miss Celestia.

At Knapford Station, Chrysalis was rifling through a stack of Sodor Times newspapers, hoping to find one with Shining Armor's address. Soon she found what she was looking for.

"Aha!" she declared, before writing down the address on a piece of paper, "I found you now…"

At that moment, a paperboy came to collect the papers.

"Oi!" he cried to Chrysalis when he saw her with the papers, "I'm meant to deliver those!"

"Whatever," Chrysalis said, getting up, "I found what I needed anyway." And with that, she walked down the station ramp, leaving the paper boy with a mess.

At that moment, Miss Celestia was preparing for her assignment when her sister Luna came in. Luna is a woman around her late twenties with light azure hair with moderate sapphire blue streaks, moderate cyan eyes, wore a light purple T-shirt with a white collar with a dark blue crescent moon on the collar, a dark purple belt around her shirt with a silver buckle, dark blue trousers and silver shoes. Keep in mind she's important to the story as well like her sister.

"Hello, sister," Luna said to Celestia, noticing the elder sister getting ready. "Important day today?"

"Oh, it is a very important day," said Miss Celestia proudly, "Sir Topham Hatt has given me a big responsibility, and for the very first time! He's told me that a new diesel has arrived and I have to make sure that he behaves himself."

Miss Celestia then went silent, tapping her pockets making sure she had everything she needed, including her toolkit for emergency repairs.

"So you're to be in charge of the North Western while he's gone?" Luna asked, "Congrats."

"Thank you, Luna," her sister replied, "I best be off now. For some reason, I'm having problems with my sparkle…"

Before Luna could reply, Miss Celestia then sounded her conductor's whistle, and disappeared rather slowly in a cloud of gold dust.

At Peel Godred station, Applejack was dropping off some crates of apple cider for the town brought in by one of the electric engines. She'd brought Winona with her, and right now, the little brown dog was barking at something in the distance.

"What's the matter, girl?" asked Applejack after setting down a crate. Then she looked in the direction Winona was barking.

"Muffle Mountain?" Winona barked as if saying "yes."

"What can ya see about Muffle Mountain that no one else can, Winona?" asked Applejack, "It can't be a reason that Chrysalis is back on Sodor, right?"

Earlier, Big Macintosh had told his younger sister about Chrysalis' return to Sodor, and it had stuck in Applejack's mind for some time. Winona whined and grunted, as if trying to say something.

"Now what kind of an answer is that?" Applejack chuckled, "You often sense trouble before many of us do, and yer instincts are usually right." Then she sighed, "It's too bad Ah don't speak dog."

Winona whimpered quietly.

Meanwhile, back at Elsbridge, I was making final preparations for mine and Spike's journey to visit Shining Armor and Cadance. At the moment, I was finishing off Shining's friendship bracelet, having already finished Cadance's.

"Well, that's it, Shining," I said once I was done, "I hope you'll like… and I hope it'll fit." I sighed. "And I hope it'll help to make you and Cadance happy again too…"

I looked over at an acoustic guitar resting on my drawers. I had gotten it for my thirteenth birthday some time before the wedding. Since then, I'd become a trained guitarist, and over time, I'd given my guitar a bit of a repaint. I'd painted it lavender and given it a pink six-pointed star surrounded by five sparkles, just like on my skirts and shorts.

I stood up, lifted my guitar from its resting place, sat down on my bed again and played a short tune to myself.

Now you might be thinking about Shining Armor and Cadance, right? You've heard of them, but haven't actually seen them yet. Well, we'll fix that…

Miss Celestia didn't know that on Muffle Mountain, Shining Armor could provide the answer to her problems with her sparkle… if only he knew how.

Shining Armor, my older brother, is twenty-four with cerulean eyes, long sapphire blue hair with streaks of cerulean and dark phthalo blue, a dark blue jacket with a pink six-pointed star over a purple shield on the left breast with three blue stars above the shield, blue jeans, and tennis shoes. His real name is Simon Armstrong Sparkle.

Cadance is twenty-three with violet hair with rose and pale gold streaks, light purple eyes, wears a white tank top with a yellow collar, a teal crystal heart within golden lace on her shirt, a pink waistband, a shin-length light blue skirt, and pink tennis shoes. Her full name is Mi Amore Cadenza Sparkle.

The couple was in what seemed to be a workshop hidden in Muffle Mountain. Shining Armor sat on a bench, a remorseful look on his face. As he continued this sad look, a memory seeped into his brain…

A young Shining Armor, roughly about ten or eleven of age, sat down as an unknown figure spoke to him. On the rails near them was a small steam engine.

"It's good that you like trains," the figure said, "our family has a little engine that lives in this mountain and travels on her own railway which has wonderful energy because of her. Without her, the island of Sodor will vanish. Now that I've shown you her, I must leave for a long time. For now, guard her well, Simon Armstrong Sparkle…"

In the present day, Shining Armor looked back up at the painting.

"But I didn't guard you well," he said sadly, "I'm sorry I let you down, Lady… I let down the magic…"

As he hung his head in shame, Cadance put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Looking back in the past?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah… I still feel this is my fault," her husband sighed, "if it hadn't been for me…"

"Now, stop saying that," said Cadance, "you're a nice, sweet person. Everybody makes mistakes." She paused, noticing her husband didn't answer. "Come on, we'd better get home," she said.