05 | BREAKAWAY

Slap.

August inhaled sharply, gritting her teeth to halt a curse threatening to burst from her lips. The blow left a stinging sensation on her burning cheek. This time her skin was left unscratched and free from bleeding—Calico wasn't wearing her bulky rings. August hated hand jewelry.

The violent captain offered no apology as she ranted at the first mate, barking, "I told you not to kill 'em."

"When?" August asked, crossing her arms across her chest. "You said we give no quarters."

Calico scowled; she must've forgotten her own words, August figured. This spiked her irritation more than it should've. Had she no care for her life, August would've smacked Calico back.

The heterochromatic-eyed woman brushed off the reminder, returning, "Didn't you 'ear that slave labor is popular now? We could've sold that crew for twice the amount o' their Pokémon..."

August gave half an ear to what Calico ranted about. Wes mentioned once that he was the one who suggested they sold off Pokémon to the market rather than killing them alongside their masters. August struggled to imagine what it'd be like selling humans in the same fashion as Pokémon. Were they kept in similar cages? Auction squares were places she loathed visiting in port towns.

She noticed Calico's lecture had ceased and lied, "I'm sorry."

"You best be sorry," Calico said. She sighed and readjusted her hat so it didn't dip into her vision. "There wasn't anythin' worthwhile on that dingy. A complete waste o' time."

The captain muttered insults at the S.S. Last Hope and began to mark her map. It was a large parchment stretching across two desks, displaying all of Caelum. From hidden port towns to navy routes, the Zoroark's Deceit harbored secrets of all kinds. Violet ink—forced courtesy from an Inkay—colored where they sailed themselves. August faintly noted how the ship sailed in a zigzag pattern.

The runaway covered a startled gasp with a throaty cough as a flurry of jabs pummeled her backside. Inside the knapsack slung over her shoulder, Gracie flailed wildly as to remind the pirate of her existence.

August's hands inched toward her bag then halted; a secondary plan struck her. Handing a Shaymin over to Calico guaranteed the captain recognizing her worth and letting her live easily until her next major blunder. Perhaps she'd even receive a lesser punishment. But if she kept Gracie herself and sold her personally, she could pocket the earnings and... leave.

"Oi, Gold. Pay attention," Calico scolded, breaking August from the reverie. A dangerous glare befell Calico's strong features as she straightened from her position hunched over the table and nodded at the sack. "What's that?"

"This?" August cracked a grin, smothering the dread creeping into her system. She shrugged. "It's what you expect, Captain."

"I'm not in the mood fo' your games."

"Aye."

August feigned nonchalance—loose shoulders, unknitted brows, steady hands—and unlatched the flap, carefully shifting the bag so Calico couldn't peer into its contents. Gracie's pinched face gazed upon the first mate as she nudged the Pokémon aside and dug to the bottom. She plucked the small box and spyglass from the assortment and put the carrier back on, all the while keeping her stance lax.

"A Vere spyglass"—she tossed her the twilight-colored device—"an' the richest treasure you've ever seen."

August smirked as Calico gave her her full attention. However, that smugness depleted when she unlidded the container and felt her mouth dry. Lying in her palm was a flower worth more than everything else she'd ever touched. The Gracidea's petals were soft and velvety like fine, expensive fabric. August carefully scooped the bloom and let it lie in her hand, wafting in its sweet scent. Swallowing, she unfurled her fingers and revealed the legendary plant to Calico.

Calico's eyes widened, and her jaw slackened. She remained motionless for a few heartbeats then chuckled lowly. Sly mirth twinkled in her heterochromatic gaze, matching the whistle she released.

"Lass, you've best be sure it's not a fake," she warned, locked on the Gracidea.

"It's not," August promised. "That ship was full o' scientists studying nature. I found this with the leader."

"And they gave it over just like that?"

"Not many fight a pirate with a flaming cutlass."

"Aye, there's truth in that."

Calico snatched the Gracidea, and August leaned against the wall. The way she saw it, she could leave soon because the flower would keep the captain busy. All she had to do was count to thirty then turn around and leave before Gracie exposed herself.

Unexpectedly, the door burst open. She groaned as Martim barged in.

"Go away," she said, tired of his existence.

He snorted. "You leave. I 'ave somethin' worthwhile. I'm not surprised you're unfamiliar with the term."

She rolled her eyes and watched him swagger up to Calico. He brandished a tattered bag and dropped it on the table where several jewels rolled out onto the map. The brilliant emeralds, sapphires, and rubies clinking together would've impressed August on any other day except for this one. She snickered as one of the rubies smeared Calico's freshly scribbled notes, causing the captain to glower.

"Is that it?" August asked.

"'Is that it?'" Martim parroted, raising his pitch to mock her. "These are more valuable than the rest o' the ship combined."

"Gold's loot is worth the same as the Rubre queen's crown," Calico inputted.

Martim did a double-take as she showed him the Gracidea. He shook his head and breathed out a humorless laugh resembling a sigh of frustration.

He scratched his beard, saying, "I'll be damned—"

August piped, "'Course you are."

"—I was beaten this time." He turned his vacant grin towards her, teeth on edge and ears red.

She never missed a chance to gloat in front of him. The Rubre native boasted, "Don't act so surprised, Vaz. It'll take your entire life before you're half as decent as me." To rub it in even further, she gave him a 'friendly' punch to the shoulder; Calico's piercing stare was enough to ward off his retaliation.

August bit her tongue and drew blood; Gracie began thrashing once again. Fed up with the restless Pokémon's flailing, she excused herself to her cabin. She didn't miss how Martim watched her leave.

The first mate cabin hadn't changed much since its last occupant. It was half the size of Calico's room with one rack and two chests—one for personal items and the other for thieved goods, respectively. August didn't care, though. She threw whatever item she wanted wherever.

August locked the door behind her and knelt down. As soon as she opened the flap, Gracie burst from the knapsack. The small mammal skittered across the floorboards straight under August's low-hanging hammock. The pirate grumbled and laid down on the wooden floor, wriggling forward just enough to catch sight of Gracie's leafy backside.

"Ahoy," she greeted, trying to sound friendly. Her raspy tone wasn't used to softening to a gentle whisper.

Gracie's paws shifted as she glanced over her shoulder as if debating to come forward or not. She turned away.

August exhaled loudly through her nose and huffed, "I'm not going to hurt you." She heard the annoyance entering her voice and tried to mend it with an insincere grin.

The Shaymin budged not an inch, drawing a groan from August. She thought for a moment then crawled to one of her chests and snatched a bag of dried fruits from it. After dumping prunes into her hands, she backtracked to where Gracie hid. The said Pokémon lifted her nose and sniffed the air.

"I know you want some," August said, waving the treat in her direction. "Just one bite..."

Gracie scuffed the floorboards, unsure how to react. Finally, she circled around and neared August's hand. Her wet nose butted the pirate's digits, snuffling. August noticed how the Pokémon gave off the same floral aroma as the Gracidea.

One tentative bite escalated into ravenous gobbling. In the time-span of a couple of seconds, the Shaymin inhaled the entire treat then began licking August's fingers for the sticky leftovers. August cringed as Gracie's saliva coated her skin.

"Did they feed you?" she muttered, wiping off the spit on her trousers. "You damn near ate my hand."

Gracie wriggled in response, eyes bright and paws dancing in anticipation for more food. August tossed her another prune, but the Pokémon reacted too slowly. The dried fruit bounced off her face, stunned her into silence, then ignited her excitement. She gave a cry of cheer and more than happily ate the food off the floor.

August tilted her head. The prunes were disgusting, for sure (there was a reason they were buried in her chest). She told herself to fetch Gracie more fruit from the galley and pushed the open bag to the Shaymin. The leafy creature cheeped then climbed right into the sack.

The pirate drummed her fingers on her leg as she watched Gracie eat. It was quite a normal thing for such a rare Pokémon to do. August could barely wrap her mind around the incredible situation.

She wanted to sell Gracie as soon as possible. Collectors loved extraordinary, impossible to obtain Pokémon. Presenting an extinct one would surely earn her a wealthy pay. If she had that sort of money then there was no telling what life August could live.

The longer she stared at the Shaymin, the more she saw a mobile bag of coins. Fondness swelled within her, directed more at Gracie's price tag than the creature herself. August reached over and stroked the top of her head, garnering pleased humming.

"Shaymin, min," Gracie crooned, leaning into her touch.

Unaware to August, a hint of a smile crept onto her face. "Is this your special spot?" she asked, scratching below Gracie's chin.

The Pokémon's sweet expression went lax in bliss, and before August knew it, Gracie's legs gave out as she fell asleep.

August chuckled at the sight and scooped Gracie into her arms. Going to her hammock, she kicked off her boots and laid on the worn cloth. She moved Gracie around several times—on her chest, by her side, at her feet—then settled for allowing her to nestle in the crook of her arm. August stared at the knapsack she'd stowed Gracie away in from the raid then drifted into unconsciousness.

⚔️

A drawn-out yawn escaped August's lips as she woke up. She stretched her arms above her head and grinned as her joints popped. The ravenette rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and blinked lazily. Haze cleared her mind at a Shuckle's pace; there was no immediate sign that anything was wrong.

Then she looked down and saw Gracie missing.

Filthy curses streamed from the pirate as she sped across the room, throwing everything she owned aside in a mad frenzy. Overturned boxes thudded and glass treasures shattered. She ransacked all her bags, throwing clothes and sheets over her shoulder. It looked like a tornado tore threw the cabin. She'd never been an organized person in the first place, but this wreckage made her out to be a Pignite.

"Dammit, Gracie," August huffed, running a hand through her choppy bob. "Where are you?"

Exasperated, she clasped her forehead and dragged her hand down her face. Her neck craned as she did so, and August's eyes widened as she stared at the ceiling. A hedge cloaked in shadows perched atop the beams, resting in a crevice where two wooden pieces crossed in a 'T' position.

Scowling, August snapped, "Oi!"

Gracie stirred, lifting her head to gaze down at August. She brightened and padded to the edge of the plank she was on, both of her paws resting on the brink.

"What're you doing up there?" August demanded.

"Shay!" the Pokémon yipped.

"How did you get up there?"

Gracie blinked, thrown off by the question. She didn't answer it. Instead, she got distracted by the ruby red apple in the pirate's grasp.

"I'll give this to you"—Gracie's head swiveled as August waved the fruit—"when you come down here."

August didn't expect 'when' to be 'now.' The doll-sized Shaymin squealed and launched herself straight into August's face. She gasped and stumbled, falling onto her rear. Gracie remained unfazed, leaping off the shocked pirate to chase the bruised fruit.

The woman gritted her teeth, shooting daggers at the Pokémon preoccupied with gnawing on an apple core.

"Don't climb up there," August scolded. "You stay where I say you stay. Always."

"Min."

"Do you understand me?"

"Min!"

"Sure you do."

August felt Gracie's curious stare as she grabbed Tuyen's book from her bag. She figured there must be a guide on taking care of Shaymin documented somewhere in it. Flipping through the pages, she saw various sketches of Gracie and minuscule handwriting printed below each drawing. The writer had clean and easy to read sentences.

Well, it was supposed to be easy to read.

August squinted at the passage, struggling as she attempted to make out the words far beyond her learning level. "Shaymin are aff... aff-ect-i-on-ate, so-ci-al Pokémon." Bored, she skipped several pages ahead and read aloud, "Shaymin are herb-i-vor-ees."

Herbs were plants, and Gracie loved to eat fruits. August realized it must've meant plant-eaters like Lombre.

"Subject A—Gracie—refuses to eat meats and pickled foods. She will only accept fresh vegetables and fruits. Persim berries are her favorite."

At the mention of Persim berries, Gracie squeaked. August glanced up to witness the Shaymin leap and twist her body in an odd, excited spasm.

"How can you be so happy?" August wondered.

Gracie trotted to August's side, twirled in a circle, then laid down with her chin on August's thigh. Choosing to ignore her, August continued scanning the book for useful information. It was completely subconscious when she placed her hand on Gracie's back and stroked her velvet-like leaves.

They stayed in that early morning position for hours until August had to tend to her duties. A throbbing headache left her massaging her temples and sweating. It felt like an invisible Ekans had her brain in a Bind, doing its best to wring the life out of her. The pain was relentless and, at times, claustrophobic-feeling; it felt like her mind was being crushed as something tried to force its way in.

August tucked Gracie into her hammock and wrapped her in her blankets, telling the Pokémon to stay quiet and hidden if anyone entered the room. Gracie licked her nose in response, and August sighed then left.

⚔️

For the next few days, August's new routine shredded her sense of security and shaped her into a ball of nerves. Gracie was always on her pained mind, and the fear of someone finding the Shaymin hidden in her cabin gnawed never went away. This, accompanied with the headache which never fully stopped pulsating, set her in a foul mood.

She dedicated her precious free time to checking in on the troublemaking Pokémon who drained her sanity. More than once did Gracie play a frustrating game of hide-and-seek when August went to visit her. The pirate's blood always ran icy cold and her face paled as she threw all her belongings aside to find the twerp. August had no clue how the Shaymin found so many secretive spots behind chests, inside bags, and atop of ceiling beams.

August's luck finally ran out the day the Zoroark's Deceit pulled into Nightkeep: the largest, most dangerous port town known to criminals. The foul isle dwarfed all the others she'd stepped foot in before. It was constantly shrouded in a thick, gray haze as if the sun had given up on it and had it cloaked in the darkness of eternal dusk. There were eyes, ears, and swords everywhere. Those who entered Nightkeep rarely made it back the same person they were before.

'Course Calico had to pull into Nightkeep, August thought bitterly. As if my job weren't hard enough.

She didn't want to change her original plan. Grab Gracie, sneak onto a ship sailing to a country, find a collector, sell Gracie, then buy herself a ship of her own. Nightkeep or not, she would get her way. She wished she could stop aching; she hated feeling like something bad was going to happen.

As August returned to her cabin, her instinct proved to be correct. From the end of the hallway, she saw her door was ajar. She gritted her teeth and clutched Risk, prepared to kill someone.

The perpetrator didn't spare a flinch as she barged in. Instead, he faced her with a knowing smirk as he addressed, "Gold." He held up green leaves pinched between his thumb and index finger. "You're stowin' somethin' away." It wasn't a question.

"My possessions ain't your business," August said, two seconds away from tearing Martim apart.

She couldn't light Risk in her room; the flames would attract too much attention even with the door closed. This would have to be a weaponless brawl. She'd have to knock him unconscious then flee quickly. Martim's Greninja better not have been on standby.

Martim stared at her white-knuckled grip on Risk. "Cool down. I 'aven't said anythin' yet." He slugged a bag from over his shoulder: it was Tuyen's bag. "Wouldn't want this to be damaged, yeah?"

"It's just a bag."

"'Just a bag?'" Martim arched a brow and produced the Shaymin book. "Load o' shit. This book has information on Shaymin; that means they 'ad one." He paused for dramatic effect. She hated his theatrics. "Where is it?"

She maintained eye contact with him despite something moving in her peripheral vision. Not having to look up, she knew Gracie was balancing precariously on a plank of wood right above Martim's head.

"You think I'd hide something so rare from Calico?" August scoffed. "I gave her a Gracidea—"

He interrupted, saying, "To distract her from the real prize. You're smarter than what I took you for, wench. I'm surprised you could think up a plan like this." He tapped his temple. "You can't con a conman."

August bristled. She knew Martim was gifted in the art of deception. Her acting skills laid to waste under his annoyingly observant, scrutinizing glare.

"I'll make a deal with you," he began. "If you split the money you earn from sellin' the Shaymin, I'll be quiet and we can call a parley."

She replied, "What if I don't?"

"The cap'n will find out 'er pitiful first mate is upstagin' a mutiny."

Martim's clever tongue was persuasive enough to implant worrisome ideas into anybody. August doubted Calico would think twice to interrogate her.

The ravenette pretended to consider the idea, staring at the soles of her boots in a silent debate. If she were younger, she would've taken him up on the deal. Blazes, if she were on Calico's bad side even more than she already was then she would've accepted his offer. As much as she loathed him, Martim was one of the most useful pirates in the sky.

She cleared her throat and questioned, "Why should I trust you to keep your word?"

"You've 'eard the saying 'my enemy's enemy is my close friend?' I'll need an ally if I'm to end Calico's reign."

"You're planning a mutiny?"

"Everyone's been thinkin' to do it since Wes died. I'm the only one smart enough to pull it off. I'll need brawns to my brain; that's where you come in." Martim's lips twisted as if he'd eaten a sour fruit. "Can't believe I'm tellin' you this, but you're the best swordsman on the ship. I'll need your aid to defeat Calico."

August perked up at the notion. If Calico were to disappear from the Zoroark's Deceit, there'd be no need for August to leave. She could maintain her spot and gain power since she helped Martim. It was tempting.

"Keep me as your first mate, an' you got a deal," she said, a smirk tugging at her lips.

"Aye."

Martim extended his palm, and August grasped it. Her smile dropped. Abruptly, she yanked him towards her and slugged his temple with a precise jab. He stumbled, falling. She thrust her knee skywards, shattering his nose. Scarlet splattered.

The man crumbled to the floor. She kicked his side. He was out. Desolate gold stayed icy as August retrieved her trusted knife from her boot, fixated on Martim's exposed throat.

"Min!"

Gracie flung off the beams into August's arms, knocking the blade out of her hands. Emotions seeped into August's gaze as she glared down at the Pokémon then spared a look at Martim. Her conscience wavered. Maybe it was better not to leave him dead. Gracie's wide, innocent stare begged her not to.

"Fine," she grumbled. "We'll go now."

August sprung into action immediately, grabbing the supply bag she'd kept hidden in her chest and placing Gracie then Tuyen's gifts into it. She threw her blanket atop Martim's limp body and swept her gaze across her cabin one last time. Swallowing, she exited and locked the door behind her.

Most of the crew was in Nightkeep already; she needn't worry about anyone questioning her as she left the ship. The tally-keeper didn't even bother to mark her absent. Chin high and shoulders set, her dangerous aura promised trouble to those who disturbed her.

She raised her hood as she went into town. The number of drunks and broads exploded once night fell; she'd hate to draw their attention. She weaved through the stumbling mess of a crowd with only a single minor incident—a man grabbed her rear. He collapsed with one outraged punch.

As she entered the tavern she sought, the chaos peaked to an apocalyptic level. Two separate brawls on either side of the bar sent men flying and women hollering. At least one bottle shattered every thirty seconds. Up on the second story, a Barbaracle was blasted through the flimsy railing by a snarling Nidorina. It landed on a card game table with a gigantic crash, evoking screams of anger from wagering players.

This sight was nothing new. August went unbothered as the Barbaracle began to clobber a nearby Cubone a few meters from her. She rolled her eyes as she sat on a barstool, vaguely aware of the drunken duel just behind her.

The tavern-keeper nodded at her, and she replied, "One pint o' the strongest thing you got." She needed her nerves to calm down or she'd give herself away.

While he gathered her drink, August slid her bag into her lap. She undid the flap so she could give Gracie a comforting pat on the head. The last thing she needed was for the Shaymin to pop out and incite a riot. Gracie's eyes fluttered shut, and August redid the latch.

August ignored the violent brawling escalating behind her. She drummed her fingers on the counter, barely flinching as the two men a few seats away from her began throwing fists. The ravenette simply scooted an inch further and grinned as she received her pint. She spared no hesitation, chugging the amber liquor then dropping the tin canister.

A belch rumbled her throat, and she licked her lips. Enough procrastinating. She got to her feet and scanned the area. What she needed was a drunk merchant so off his rocker that he'd forget he agreed to let a complete stranger sail with him by the next morning. A one-night ally, if you will.

She tugged on her hood once more to hide her face; men listened to fellow males much more willingly when it came to deals. It was both a gift and a curse that August's flat figure and gruff voice passed her off as one.

August found her target rambling in a shadowy corner. He was a burly fellow with a peppered beard and bald head who lamented his woes to his reflection in a broken mirror. The velvet coat on his shoulders signaled he was a merchant; no pirate in his damn mind would wear velvet to a port town unless he wanted to get robbed. She cracked a smile when a Spoink used his shoulders as a springboard to flee from a fuming Ledian.

"Cap'n," August greeted, thickening her pirate-speak accent. "I think it's swell time we go back to the ship, sir."

The merchant squinted. "Eh? Oh shut up, you, you..." He trailed off and glanced at his reflection, seeking help. "By Giratina's scaly arse, I dunno your name, laddie."

"It's me, your own kin," she lied easily. "You drank so much you can't remember your own flesh an' blood? Can't say I'm surprised."

"Sorry, Rein," he slurred, choosing a name out of nowhere.

August hid a smirk. This would be easy as pie.

⚔️

"Cap'n!"

Calico uncorked her bottle of rum and took a swig. Not even a couple hours into the night and there was already a problem. She swore she was ordering around a group of bumbling idiots. Maintaining a crew purely made up of Pokémon would be less of a hassle at times like these.

She fixed her glare on the red-faced man fidgeting at the doorway. When did she pick him up? She had no clue. He had to be one of Wes' recruits.

"Speak clearly," she demanded.

He opened and closed his mouth a couple times, fumbling for words, then answered, "It's Vaz, Cap'n. We found 'im knocked out in Gold's cabin."

"That's it?" Calico rolled her eyes. Of course August would brawl Martim over entering her room. Those two fought like Seviper and Zangoose.

Speaking of Giratina, Martim entered the room with a bloodied, broken nose and bruise-littered face. He answered for the other, saying, "No, it's not just that, Cap'n. Gold ran away."

Any amusement shining in Calico's eyes from seeing his battered self vanquished. Shadows fell upon her as she warned, "Don't sard with me, Vaz."

"I'm not lyin'," he promised, uncharacteristic sincerity in his tone. "She spat with me 'cause I told 'er startin' a mutiny was a bad idea."

Calico's jaw clenched. The room's tension thickened to a suffocating degree.

Martim continued, saying, "Gold's been plannin' it since Wes was killed. She was waitin' for the right moment. Remember how she spent a long time alone on that science ship with its leader?"

She faintly recalled Vaz complaining about it to her. But he always griped about nothing.

"She was makin' a deal behind your back, Cap'n. I didn't tell you earlier 'cause I had no proof, but I found some tonight an' Gold tried to kill me for it." He paused to hold a cloth to his now bleeding nose. "She's been nervous lately 'cause she was keepin' treasure in 'er room."

Calico snapped harshly, "Taurus shit. Gold 'as never kept any loot for 'erself without tellin' me first. If she were goin' to save anythin' at all, it would've been the Gracidea."

Martim stepped closer, brows drawn and frown thin. "That's 'cause the Gracidea wasn't the biggest prize."

"Nothin' is worth more than a Gracidea," she argued, slamming her hand against her desk in a loud thud!

"What about a Pokémon that can find 'em?" He pulled an emerald-colored leaf from his pocket. "Gold got a Shaymin from that ship an' ran away when I saw it."

Calico ripped the plant debris from his hold and pinched it between her index finger and thumb. It was identical to the leaves on the Gracidea.

The captain couldn't even lie and say she didn't believe it because she did. It was a vicious cycle she'd seen again and again: a strong mentor adopted a promising apprentice, trained zir up, then died by his own student's hands.

Rage boiled within Calico's body, egging her on to seek violence and vengeance. Her dark skin tinted scarlet, and her ivory knuckles protruded from her clenched fists. She was a furious volcano one small move away from erupting and destroying all in her path.

"Find Gold," Calico growled, glowering out the window at Nightkeep, "an' bring 'er back alive. I want to talk."

On whatever honor Calico had left in her, she promised that she'd make August suffer for her betrayal. Whether it took ten hours or ten years, the first mate would return home and pay the price for ever leaving it.

‒‒‒‒‒

⚔️ TERMS ⚔️

Nightkeep [nite-keep]
noun
The largest port town in all of Caelum. Home to the Underground.

⚔️ ART ⚔️

This fantastic work of August was created by NaivEevee.