In a world full of floating islands, sky pirates, exiled magicians, and Pokémon, peace is difficult to maintain.
Shaymin, kind Pokémon who'd guided travelers once man learned how to fly, were hunted to extinction for their Gracideas: magical flowers...
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Dawn brought an onslaught of inevitable problems for August's company. Yesternight, she, Cyryl, and Loto figured it was best to conceal Lang from Omar; no one wanted to argue in the late night hours. They healed her injuries and left for bed. Much to their displeasure, the shipbuilder discovered her early in the morning the following day.
Omar asked, horrified and disgusted, "Whose idea was it to kidnap her?"
August stared at the unconscious woman tied to the chair in the center of the room. Lang's head lolled to the side, causing her long, violet tresses to cover her face. Her casual clothing, torn and singed, was an elegant dress and slippers. A silver necklace with a pendant of a hydrangea hung around her neck. She reminded August of a doll. A small, expensive doll they found in the ashes of a house fire. August felt like she could still smell the smoke.
Needing fresh air, she crossed to a window. Dust kicked up and shone in the yellow light as she ran her fingers along the frame for a latch. It was sealed shut. No relief for her. Sighing, she leaned against the wall and turned to the others.
"It was either she burned alive," August told Omar, "or she came with us. I figured you'd be happy we chose this option."
"Well, when you put it that way," Loto muttered, snickering.
Cyryl groaned at zir friend's comment and insisted, "It's not a permanent solution, of course. We should nurse Lang back to health, persuade her not to tell anyone else about our cause, and then return her home."
August sassed, "What're you going to do? Beg her? Bribe her?" She snorted. "I say we hide her on a ship going south. Tie her limbs an' gag her. The crew will find her when cleaning up fo' the next ride."
"No, we're not doing that. That's cruel," Omar disagreed, giving her a dirty look.
Loto bit into a berry, nonchalantly saying, "Yeah, but it'd work, though. I know a fisherman who could do it."
"I couldn't live with myself if that happened," Cyryl protested.
August noticed Lang stirring awake as everyone's volumes raised. The woman's eyelids fluttered open, revealing her icy blue gaze. Lang squinted against the light and tugged at her confines. She froze. Panicked, she jerked upright and rocked the chair. A whirlwind of emotions—confusion, realization, anger, terror—flickered across her face at a rapid speed.
"Wh-what is this?" Lang stammered, shrinking in her chair. "Who are you people? What do you want from me?"
Omar stepped forward. He dwarfed her entirely; his tall height and mighty build made her appear even more like a toy. "You're okay, I swear it. You're safe here."
"We're deeply sorry for what happened last night—it was all a misunderstanding," Cyryl cut in. "I promise you we didn't enter the library with violent intentions. Quite the contrary, we wanted a peaceful exchange." Zie laughed nervously. "Things didn't go to plan, as you can see."
