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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The Dragon's Den was a haunted place. Located above the armory on the southside of the castle, it was home to the weapons of war the monarchs weren't afraid to use. It held a breaking chamber to train the powerful beasts; the Pokémon left obvious signs of rebellion in their wake. Torn scales littered the stone. Dried blood stained metal tools. Ivory canines the size of long blades were mounted to the wall. Even the air was wicked as it caused icy serpents to slither down the spines of those who entered.
Gracie shuddered as she perched on a high windowsill leading into the den. She was the only one of the Shaymin small enough to wiggle through the narrow, rectangular opening. She wished the others could squeeze through.
Early this morning, Lang had told all of the Shaymin that August's life was in danger. To save her, they followed the plan given to them by August's own sister, Shannon. They had to form giant distractions to divert the guards' attention away from the keep so Shannon could break August out of her cell.
The Shaymin's distraction was a dangerous one: they were supposed to work as a flock to free one of the vicious Pokémon from the Dragon's Den. However, that part of the plan was thwarted by the complications of the den's tiny, single, undetectable entrance. Now it was all up to Gracie to accomplish this mission.
Gracie ran in place to exude her nerves and try to calm down. There was no time to be scared stiff. I'll save you, August, she thought. She could do this. She hadto.
Bracing herself, Gracie soared to the ground and pressed herself against the wall to hide in the shadows. Soot powdered her pelt for just this reason. Paw-step by paw-step, she crept silently to the holding cells. They reeked of copper and echoed deep growls. She shivered again.
Her mind raced as speedily as her heart. Shannon hadn't told her which dragon Pokémon to free. She'd been too busy lecturing Lang on which topics to speak about to prolong her conversation with the queen. Gracie hoped—
Human voices sounded. She flung herself behind a barrel. Peeking around it, she glimpsed a pair of men dressed in leather. Omar had worn similar gear when working in the boiler room because of fire. He never carried the weapons in their hands, though. Black whips hung loosely, casually at their sides.
"...they should've left him in the desert," one of them said, shaking his head. "He refuses to breed and fight. He's a waste of resources; he's useless. I say we put him down so we have one less mouth to feed."
The other man clicked his tongue. "Don't be that way. We'll break him yet..."
Their voices faded as they walked past Gracie and around the corner. She released a shaky breath of relief when they turned the corner then continued forth. Her ears strained for any hints. She lifted her chin and sniffed the foul air. The stench of injuries was strong. A dragon was close.
