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 medic ward was no more than a kitchen with cooking utensils shoved to the side as the table functioned as a bed. A young woman acted as a nurse, her skin made of leaves and her hair a crown of flower petals. Roots spurted out of the magician's waist and lodged into large pots of soil where she gathered her energy. Green mana then rippled up her glowing roots and bubbled in her palms. She placed her hands onto Shannon's wounds and tensed as the lieutenant groaned.
"This is the last one," Lang promised.
Shannon ground her teeth; it felt as if the magician was pouring toxins onto her open wounds. She grunted out, "Good."
A pained gasp escaped her as an abrupt surge of Lang's healing magic poured into Shannon. Acid seemed to burn her flesh, hot and searing. She stomped her foot and cursed. Lang yanked her hands away.
"That's it," the nurse said, "we're finished."
Shannon sucked in air through gritted teeth and looked her reflection in a handheld mirror. Tender, pink skin sealed her once open gashes. Her plum bruises lightened to pale brown. She glanced back at Lang, eying the roots withdrawing into her leafy body. The Ingrain's magic had worked better than she'd imagined.
Lang hissed as her magician form faded, giving way to a normal person. Her verdant limbs dissolved into human skin as her flowery tresses shriveled and revealed violet hair. She sagged into her chair, panting. Sweat plastered her bangs to her forehead and cast an ill look upon her face.
"What's the matter?" Shannon asked.
"Magic is exhausting." Lang straightened up and forced herself to her feet. "Nevermind me, though. You all need to rest. If you need anything, knock on the door. One of our Pokémon will alert us, and we'll come to your aid."
She dipped her head. "Thank you."
Lang half-smiled and departed; the door clicked after she shut it behind her. As soon as her footsteps died off, the disgruntled soldier beside Shannon snapped, "I can't wait to get these clothes off of me and toss them. They're covered in witch filth."
Shannon shot him a glare. "Quiet, Gabriele, they'll hear you. Like it or not, magicians were the ones who saved us. I hate them just as much as any other Rubre person, but our well-beings rest in their grasps. Don't bite the hand that feeds you."
"I won't eat anything they've touched," Gabriele vowed, folding his arms across his chest. "Plus it was a magician who got us here in the first place, that damn pirate captain. Evil's in their blood. I bet as soon as they figure out Prince Dedan's royalty that they'll put us right back into that slave ring."
She bristled at the reminder of their alternative fate and rationalized, "My sister's the captain of this ship, and August is Rubre. She was born and raised in Shadeview Town itself. You're a fool if you think she'd put Prince Dedan in harm's way."
