The ship was massive, Diana and the four hundred pound tiger taking up such a small space on the deck. The center mast was thicker than an ancient oak tree, the metal bands surrounding it creaking as the whole ship softly swayed in its hover. At an order from Angelina the sails were unfurled. The whole of the ship rocked in the steady breeze of such an altitude. Diana gazed up at the expanse of fabric snapping loudly in the wind, on its sturdy threads was a painting of a beautiful mermaid cresting on a rock.

“You like that?” Angelina asked, nudging her playfully. “It's supposed to be me, but I only had my scales over my breasts. So the face is all wrong, but my chest is immaculate.” She grinned, pointing to the differences.

“It's beautiful, whether it's accurate or not,” Diana replied. "I understand why the painter could be so distracted, great Pirate."

“Oh, come now, don't stick to titles forever, I'm Angelina to you. We're equals here." She felt at Diana's sleeve. "Ya best be changing out of that, I wouldn't want you to ruin your formal dress on my ship. Plus, it might get soiled during your practice.”

Before Diana could inquire further, the Pirate called out for a quartermaster. Half stuck in place, she hadn't noticed she was practically alone with her tiger, that the other Heroes had walked off, a couple taken to sides. There they were waving at the crowd below, their cheerful cries faint among the racing crew members and hum of the ship's engines. It was hard to imagine being a celebrity for over two hundred years.

The quartermaster came, clopping up on black hooves. Her bright crimson skin shone in the dim light of the deck, deprived the spotlights hitting the sides. “Yes Cap'n?” Solid black eyes with ruby pupils regarded the young Druid, smirking at her.

“Show our princess to her chambers," Angelina ordered sweetly.

The woman bowed her head, short hair caught up in twisting ram horns. “Of course, right this way your majesty.”

Angelina stepped away, yelling orders to the rest of her crew.

The Demonkin woman led Diana down a flight of stairs on the side of the ship. Many porthole windows looked out onto the city, the metropolis a brilliant array of colors. The woman's pointed tail swung freely in the air. She turned and stopped at one of the doors. “Here you are, name’s Lucy, holler if you need anything. This cabin has plenty of towels, should your tiger need to rinse off as well,” she said, inclining her head at the beast.

“Thank you, she doesn’t need to wash herself.” Diana smiled. “Can I ask you something, Lucy?”

“Whatever you like, milady.” The quartermaster spread out her hands. “I know this ship like the back of my hand.”

“I suppose it’s more of an observation,” Diana said with a frown.

“Observe away.” Lucy tapped her horns to a loud clicking sound with her nails.

“I have seen many races in my travels, though I haven't gone many places, but I just saw a dwarf helping a troll pull lines of a sail. There’s an awful wide variety of sailors aboard this ship. Last I heard it was an all homunculus crew…”

The quartermaster laughed. “Well it's quite simple actually. Since the war ended Angelina can’t help but pick up strays. It is funny, you should notice it, since her practice for you is one such stray we found some two weeks back.” Her face grew grim, shaking her head. “Poor, poor boy.”

Diana blinked at the idea of her practicing on a person. “Who is he? What has happened to him?”

“Oh, you'll see. Cap’n needs you to change first, can’t do any Druid work in such a fine dress.” She patted the clothes in Diana's hands.”Go on now, milady.” She opened the door to the cabin. Aiko went strolling in.

“Thank you,” Diana called as the quartermaster clopped off.

“It’s my job!” Lucy replied.

The cabin was sparsely furnished but roomy enough to really stretch one’s legs. Against the side wall was a raised bed with metal anchors and straps on the side. All the other airships Diana had been in had stabilizing runes, not leather belts, the thought scared her, hoping to only need them during a storm or speedy travel. Beside the bed was a chest full of clothes bolted to the floor. On the opposite wall was a compact bathroom set with a water closet and shower combined, a little claustrophobic, but she had camped plenty of times.

Diana had stripped down to her underwear and was examining herself in the faint light of a bulb hanging overhead, which was guarded by a metal cage. Her belly hung slightly distended over her briefs and her hips were wider than any other princess she had met. No matter how much time she spent training she held a bit more than she wanted.

She recalled her sister poking her stomach when they went swimming in the castle pool. “Why are you so squishy Di?” Luann had said. It was a warm sunny day, the water taking away the hot sting of the sticky air. Diana sat on the stonework lining the edge while Luann paddled around the shallow end.

“I am not,” Diana replied, swatting at her hand.

Luann rose up from her alligator floating to speak, bubbles forming from her voice. “You are too, you have rolls.”

“That's just skin.” She held the jabbed flesh, guarding it from further attacks.

Luann stopped her reptilian circling and tread water, adding an extra magical flair to it. Small whirlpools forming around her. “I saw your baby pictures, you were chubby in them too.”

“I held you as a baby, you were just as chubby,” Diana mocked back.

Her sister’s face, a youthful version of their mother’s aristocrat structure, became smug. “Yeah, but I wasn’t fat.”

Diana dove in after her, Luann screamed at the top of her lungs as her magic focus broke. Desperately she tried to burrow through the clear salty blue with a similar technique. But Diana knew more, countering her with a tear of her hand caught her and with a kick the water catapulted them both up.

Luann squirmed her grasp as Diana tickled at the girl’s skinny underarms. “Okay, okay, okay, you're not fat!” Luann said, giggling, making her short on breath.

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Diana roared and threw her sister with all her normal might several feet across the broad pool.

Luann surfaced, flapping her arms happily, “Again, again! Do it again! You can launch me high, I know you can. Druid cannon, do it, do it!”

Then all Diana could remember were her dead eyes staring up at nothing. The horrible slice across her throat. Her little body in a casket. So pale. So fragile. A wilted flower in death for what was an explosion of a person in life. It stabbed a cold knife through her being. Tears trickled down Diana's cheeks at the fresh agony. She placed a hand over her stomach where Luann had once poked her. Now that site was where the painful knife wound lay, worse than any physical pain she had experienced. She was supposed to be done grieving. And she shouldn’t cry, she wasn’t weak, it was done. Not over something so simple as a once happy memory. Something so mundane as an afternoon at the pool.

Diana got up from the floor and realized she had taken a knee. Aiko was there, supporting her, helping her rise. From the sink she grabbed Luann's locket where it sat in a dip of steel. Inside it was a tiny photo of the four of them together. Luann was smiling wide in the picture, sitting on her father's lap. They changed the photo out every year but Luann insisted that she retain her place on the King's lap. Last year they told her the tradition was done and that next year she would have to stand like Diana. The time for the photo had come and passed in the two weeks after Luann's death. There was no reminder from the royal’s photographer, only a solem note of well wishes. Before more tears escaped her eyes, Diana placed the locket around her neck.

The Druid pulled up her new dragon skin boots, the creature shed their hardened outer skin every once in a great while, so Pilumnus had acquired the material amicably. They were quite gorgeous with dark green circles where loose scales had been sheared off. They fit perfectly as well as they consumed her entire calf.

The spider silk clothing was a deep emerald that covered her from ankle to collarbone and to the tips of her knuckles. It was just loose enough to breathe nicely. The Ironwood armor was sculpted bark ridges, veined by raw metallic flecks that the tree originally dragged with it in its growth cycle. The breastplate fit snugly and curved about her chest, sloping into a fold of layered wood to the tassets, that focused mainly on the front. On her shoulders were domed pauldrons, adorned with small etchings of her tiger’s face on one side and the gigantic Elder tree on the other. Her bracers were similarly patterned with stretching trees, the branches and leaves lined up to the metal flecks. The spider silk was as strong as chain-mail, but the Ironwood was like a heavy plate and it all weighed only a tad more than her normal clothes. She secured a dragon skin belt about her waist and hung several pouches from it, many needed to be filled by her. Atop her head was a cherry wood tiara set with cloudy quartz, a spell focus for her more mentally intensive magic. Finally she affixed a traveler's cloak, a shade darker than the rest of the spider's silk and denser, around her neck with a Ironwood ring and a volcanic glass pin.

She examined herself in the mirror once more. There, she looked like a real Druid now. Her hair was still in the loose wind braids from earlier. She tugged out the tie and let her hair free. The abundance of auburn waves shone in the harsh cabin lights, but wasn’t right for a fighting, casting Druid. She recalled again her sister's constant braids. How she begged to always braid Diana's hair and need to have her own locks neatly plaited. With a slight grin she took a moment and tamed her hair into one thick braid. It was one of her sister’s favorites, a warrior’s braid, according to her. Diana grabbed a seed from a pouch, bloomed it into a daisy, and slid it behind her ear, held by the tight bind. Holding out her hand to her staff it flew to her grasp and she left the room to look for Angelina.

Angelina had taken up a leaning post against a wall outside her cabin. Grinning, she looked her up and down, nodding in approval. “Ah, much better now. How does it feel to wear such fine Druid clothes?”

Diana smiled back. “Better than my old training clothes.”

“Good, good. Now I heard my quartermaster spilled the beans, and you know about our special case, my newest stray.” The Pirate beckoned and she followed the woman and her flapping parrot.

“How exactly does it require my attention?” Diana asked, unsure how to use this new more powerful staff while walking.

“It's to my understanding that you are quite proficient at healing magic. Is that correct?” Angelina said, waving her finger at her.

The question stung her. For the last person she had tried to heal had been her sister even though she knew that her soul had long since left her small frame. Her mother had then pushed her aside, trying the same magic at a higher level. Cold blood had stung their hands. “Yes,” she answered though, pushing the dread and sensation out of her mind. “Druid magic is second only to a Cleric's in its curative properties.” She gripped her staff, reassured by its strong construction.

“Well, have I got a doozy for you to work on.” Angelina shook her head, but returned her waving finger confidently. “I'm sure it will be great practice though. He needs all the help he can get.” She stopped before a door marked with a plank that read “Newbie.” She bared her teeth in a pained smile. “Now, doesn’t matter what you say, he can’t hear ya, and it’s really bad.”

A thousand possible situations were running through Diana's head at one time. What was wrong with this mystery person? And why was her healing magic needed at all? Why not a whole league of Clerics instead of her?

This room was much the same to hers, but with a few extra pieces of furniture crowding it. This included a padded leather chair beside the bed and long couch beside the sink. There was a different air, a crisp sterile note from a Cleric spell usually reserved for hospitals. The light overhead was much brighter as well illuminating the two subjects in the room.

Fia the Witch sat on the arm of a chair petting the frog on her shoulder. She smiled at Diana as they entered. It was then Diana saw the figure on the bed. Aiko, who had been following faithfully beside Diana, padded towards the person. The giant cat could sense the pain experienced, much the same gesture as it had displayed for Luann. Aiko laid its head beside this young man with curly black hair whose flushed caramel skin was covered in bandages from the neck down. His legs were gone above the knees and his arms gone above the elbow. The sight knocked the wind out of Diana, she had never seen someone so grievously injured so close to her. She covered her mouth in shock.

“Diana, this is Jonah. He's been in a magically induced coma for the last two weeks. We found his name and photograph in a burnt wallet we were barely able to restore,” Angelina said, walking over to the bedside. “His body received a large number of burns. His limbs seemed to have been lost from magic fission as if from a bad teleportation spell.”

“One of the worst ways to lose anything,” Fia commented. “Had Angelina not fished him out of the ocean, he would have bled to death.”

“What do you want me to do?” asked Diana, still fixated on the sleeping figure.

“Heal him,” said Fia.

“Of his burns? You want me to heal the flesh wounds when his arms and legs are gone?” she wondered loudly.

Fia gestured for her to calm down. “His limbs are to be replaced. I did some scrying on him and he seems to be gifted with powers like the Machinist's. We will be giving him mechanical limbs crafted by our very own mechanic, an apprentice to the Machinist. It’s only fitting, I’d say. He’ll take to them better than most do.”

Diana was struck by that, images of great war machines swirling around her head. This boy had the powers of one of the great Heroes? “So I am to heal him of his wounds? Assist in this surgery?” she asked in a lower voice.

“Exactly,” Fia said, digging a nail into the frog's head, the frog closed its eyes in bliss. “You won’t be alone, of course. Do you accept the task?”

The Druid looked to her familiar, who softly chuffed, sending emotions of resolve, the joy of assistance. The creature couldn’t speak, but it could send feelings, snippets of images. “We are still looking for Blodwyn whilst I do this?” she asked.

“Every minute of every day,” the Witch stated firmly. “Not that you could pin her now, anyway.”

With a deep breath, Diana nodded. “It is only right to use my powers to help when he is in such dire need,” she said with a sense of that received resolve.

“Good, good, I’ll fetch the others,” Angelina said happily. “That man has been adding the finishing touches on the limbs for the last two days, I swear!” She stormed out of the room, calling after someone.

“How did you end up in such a poor state?” Diana asked, staring at the limbless man and shaking her head.