“What do we know of him, outside his injuries?” Diana wondered.

"Well, he's got technology that made our mechanic lose his mind," Fia said casually. With a quiet twinkling noise and a swirl of her finger she spawned a ghostly hand that plucked something from a pile of ruined clothing below the couch. The glossy object landed in the Druid's hand.

Diana looked over the device, a long flat square sheet with two tiny holes on one narrow edge and sleek buttons that fitted close to the frame on another long edge. One side had glass pressed around it like a window. The back was hard fit plastic that looked tougher than her Ironwood armor. She pressed several buttons and nothing happened. Then she pressed a lonely button and the glass lit up with a picture of a girl in a skimpy bathing suit. Across the picture were the words “No service” in the common language. “What is this?” she asked.

“We don't know. Our best guess is some sort of communication device. The mechanic thinks it's a phone or a radio. It plays music sometimes,” said Fia with disinterest. “We can't get past the picture of the girl, it keeps requesting a thumbprint. Which clearly isn't going to happen any time soon. Sir Charles could mimic the boy, but he wouldn't know his fingerprint.”

The Mimic croaked at Diana when she stared scrutinizingly at it. Many Witches had familiars similar to Wizards called up from the world's collective imagination. The Witch didn’t feature in many of the annals of history. Her supportive and stealthy abilities fell by the wayside when others, such as Diana’s ancestor, were on the front lines stopping the ceaseless destruction of nations by the Order’s machines. The woman’s sly face portrayed this nature, lips curling as she knew she was being analyzed. No one lived her many centuries without gaining some kind of wisdom, no matter their place on the battlefield. Diana’s short life felt insignificant and her armor weighed heavier on her than it had a moment before.

“He is a Machinist pupil, or solely has the aptitude?” Diana said, shifting her attention back to the man on the bed.

“I’m not sure. From how cloudy his mind is I can’t tell where he’s from, what his intentions are,” Fia said, tapping her pointed chin, fox eyes heavy. “Your teacher was up here, he applied his Crown and couldn’t read any more than me, given the boy’s state. He’s not going anywhere, you’re free to check for yourself.”

The mention of a weak point in her learning hurt Diana. Aiko glanced up from where it lay with its back to the bed, sending her assurances. “No, I believe Pilumnus saw all that can be gained from him. This boy is a Traveler then? I’ve never seen one in person,” she said, leaning heavily on the change of subject.

“Yes, it appears so,” Fia said with a smirk. “Which is good, since our Machinist was one himself. Hopefully he doesn’t bear the man’s weaknesses, only his strengths.”

“I think it’s fair that the Machinist took a neutral pack after the war,” Diana stated.

Fia huffed. “Yes, now it’s time he comes out of whatever cave he’s hiding in and fights for us again,” she said with a bitter edge to her voice. “We have been contacting him for two weeks and he has denied us every time.” She clawed her hand, tiny clouds of cosmic rage forming and dissipating swiftly.

“I have heard of no attacks--” Diana swallowed--”save the one. It’s best we hunt and trap Blodwyn before any army is formed.”

The Witch’s violet eyes were cold as ice behind her glasses, which weren’t for seeing anything physical. “Poor uninformed child. Do you truly think that the Order of Ash would so brutally take a life if they had no army already formed?”

Diana shook her head defensively. “No, I know they must have some plan, but the head of the snake is the most important to cut off,” she said quietly.

Fia laughed loudly, mockingly. After a moment she pursed her lips, clenching a fist to the shine of her knuckles, stopping herself. “Oh, how I wish to be three hundred years younger like you, hopeful as you are,” she said with a shake of her head. Popping up from her perch on the chair’s armrest, her heels clicked as she passed around the Druid, a dismissive sound echoing from her throat while the door creaked open.

Angelina entered with a furrowed brow, a petite elf woman following in her shadow. “Fia, dear, did I hear you harassing the miss when she’s grieving?” the Pirate asked loudly.

The Witch sneered. “Nothing of the sort, I was delighted in her ignorance,” she said, making to leave as the two stood inside. Angelina caught her hand, staring up at her, the Witch’s expression softened as the grip tightened tenderly on her. She turned, incining her head at the Druid. “I apologize for my rude behavior, sweet girl. It’s not fair for you to know what we have seen these last two weeks.”

“I am fine. I would love to know anything that you have found out,” Diana said, pleadingly.

Folding in her lips, Angelina answered instead, fingers playing across the other woman’s hand. “Little to nothing, cells of Ash Makers around the world, always loyal to the Order, trying to rise up since the assassination. Nothing we can’t handle alone,” she said firmly. “You have important duties here, now. Magic to learn and perfect. The stray is good practice for you to heal. An omen, I’d say, since the Machinist helped us to win the last war.”

The figure on the bed looked nothing like the brilliant figure portrayed in the histories. A man that turned the war machines back on the Order. That man didn’t appear half dead on arrival, though the specifics were left vague on purpose for the original. It didn’t matter where he came from, it mattered what he did afterwards.

“We’re going to take a walk, Kalyah will help you mend his flesh wounds and prepare him for the limb replacement,” Angelina said. “Our wonderful Stephan will have the contraptions ready by the time you have him prepared.” She laughed mirthlessly. “Or, at least he had better…” The door closed on the Heroes sharing a meaningful look.

The elf curtsied to the princess, a smile on her sweet heart shaped face. “A pleasure to meet you, your highness, I am Kalyah Gre’bern, Priestess of Corpine,” she said, gloved hands clapping together in a bow at her own title. “Glad to work with you on a body with such a need as this one.” She was a head shorter than the Druid’s rather above average stature, her clothing a collection of white on white vestments. A long skirt and waist belt with an apron meant to tear away and be replaced, commonly burned. All of it made her and her milky skin a bright shine in the crisp lighting. Her short platinum hair was combed back, a pillbox hat affixed to her head with the symbol of her goddess in a good sized medallion, the simple lines denoting an infant’s sleeping face.

After she returned the greeting, Diana’s eyes went from the door and back to the lone priestess.

“I am alone, I’m afraid, miss,” Kalyah said, flattening her belt. “I am not part of an assigned Trio to the Heroes, but another of Angelina’s strays.” Her smile straightened out. “I’ve been a part of this boat for ten years now. I’ve been good enough to mend everybody so far alone, I needed help with this particular one.” She gestured to the boy on the bed. “Shall we?”

“I meant no offense,” Diana stated, placing her staff on the floor, where it adhered to the natural material and stayed upright.

“None taken, miss,” Kalyah said. Rubbing her hands together a tiny spark of white light started a holy flash flame that sterilized her gloves. “I’m glad to have assistance on this body, it’s a difficult one. I bandaged him in slow healing--Oh, f… Oh goddess!” Aiko the tiger crossed in front of the Priestess, high above her knees as she made her way to the other side.

“Sorry, she has some fascination with him. A horrible case we can heal, I suppose,” Diana said, watching as her familiar hopped atop the couch.

“A scary and strong beast,” Kalyah stated, pointed ears raised like some kind of hackles. Patting her heart, she collected herself. “Not many Druids have familiars that big.” She shook off her fright. “Do you need gloves?”

“No,” she replied. It took a moment to recall the exact level of flame she had used to disinfect herself before. Though resilient, both in body and armor, there was no benefit in using too much fire. Snapping both fingers, her hands were briefly consumed in flame, the smoke sucked up in the fan filter above her head. The sudden rush of her heartbeat quickly calmed as she leaned over the subject.

Kalyah had removed the blanket and pillow, laying the limbless subject flat on his back. “He’s in a full stasis coma, no food, no waste. It’s easier that way on a ship,” she frowned at the sorry man. “I wouldn’t want to wake him, I’m fine to upkeep the condition with my prayers. As I was saying, the bandages manage a slow heal of his burns, which as you can see reach up to his neck. He had the time to cover it or was spared from burning his poor face off.” She pointed around as she spoke. This close, so small without any limbs, he seemed to Diana more like a boy, than the manhood of his face. “The damn mechanic has disturbed him, always measuring this and that,” the Healer grumbled, the sweetness dropping from her voice in that statement. “I know he can’t feel anything or sense much, but it’s rude the way he acts around him. Another one of his projects…” She sighed. “At least he’s giving back his dignity. Most hospitals, save the royal ones, would spare the resources to keep him so stadated. Even our temples would struggle to spare the prayers.” She regarded the man who had taken up so much of her efforts and abilities for two weeks with rueful wonder. “I wonder what he’ll say when he wakes up. When I stopped his bleeding and cleared the char from him, I didn’t want his burns to stretch his skin tighter than it already was, he kept screaming in horror. I had to numb him to oblivion.”

Diana clasped her hands, waiting for instruction, it all weighed heavily on her, but she had been taught to compartmentalize it, plant it and let it grow into something positive. Those lessons had been of use and a struggle the last few weeks. This was a living job to complete.

“Have you ever seen a body in such a condition?” Kalyah asked and a swift shadow of regret passed over her face.

“Not living, no,” Diana projected before any unneeded apology came. She couldn’t handle that, it wouldn’t do any good for her condition. Balancing between the urge to help and that to cry while remembering the last body on a bed. “I worked a rotation in the Corpine temple of Magus Academia, many years ago. The most I saw severed was the tip of a finger from a butcher and the most burns from a kitchen fire. Well, those I assisted in directly, there was much worse that I witnessed, nothing of this magnitude.”

A darker yet similar shadow passed over the Priestess’s face at the mention of the temple. “One of our grandest temples, beautiful as well,” she said, her face drawn.

“Oh, yes, the tour of the inner sanctum had the most lovely depictions of your goddess,” Diana said, fingers flexing still, running away from the urge to cry was currently successful.

“Truly, truly,” Kalyah nodded mechanically. “Now, you know what we need to restore burned skin?”

“Yes, a Primordial Daisy blossom, correct?” Diana asked, digging in her pouch for one of the tiny buds kept dry and safe there.

“Exactly, I’m glad you’re so prepared,” Kalyah said. She gingerly started to remove the bandages about the man’s body.

“The bloom of a hundred and one uses, my teacher always said.” The Druid grinned forcefully, holding the bud in her outstretched palm. Focusing on it, the water in the air started to gather, bits of minerals called forth from the source of all flowers, lending her power in a place without the right conditions. Roots laced about her fingers as the thick stalked stem rose up, leaves springing forth from each side. This flower was one of the first, large as a sunflower and short as a wildflower, growing in a time where beasts of great fierceness roamed the planet. Watch dogs while the gods still toiled away in their process of building the lands. It wasn’t easy to build mountain ranges and draw out rivers. The Magi’s hounds proved to be too fine in their creation, holding down the race of man in their wonderfully vast and built Kingdom. They handed to man a way to commune with the sources of all that was and would be. The first Druids, the first wielders of magic. As the hounds faded, the world changed and wonders like this Daisy could no longer grow unaided, meant for an ancient environment.

Now the flower bloomed out, the stamen a magnificent golden yellow and petals sharp and long like an array of white blades. Reminding herself of her deals, her reason to be, had been the only way to move the last few weeks. A bringer of balance to the natural world, preserving good life and pruning what was rotten. Her heart thudded a few extra beats, lungs needing more air. Part of those deals was a bit of her energy, which constant training lessened the impact of over time. Too much too fast and one could get so lightheaded they passed out, at least for her and most Druids. Magic was a request, one given at a trade. Even though her head flashed with thoughts of the Primordial Daisy and her own obligations, the blooming of it took only a few seconds. The rapid growth of a small plant such as this had been a part of her lessons for some two full decades.

Her eyes lingered far longer on her accomplishment than was needed, Kalyah had already carefully stripped the bandages from the man’s thin chest. Below the furious pink brushstroke burns were his ribs, their prominence not helped by two weeks of staying frozen solid. Though there was no waste from him, such a long held invocation took from both requester and subject. Minisculely, the fat and whatever else could be spared would be taken in exchange.

“He can’t handle another day,” Kalyah said, calmly and indirectly. There was no rushing a princess, they both knew that.

Diana took a seat on the short stools that could slide from the bed’s underside. “Yes, I understand, please, show me where to start. You are far more experienced than me,” she said, holding the stalk with less reverence, by its center.

“We are rebuilding his skin together.” The Healer sparked her hands again. “That’s the first priority, then we have to reopen his limbs when the time comes. Stephan will be connecting them directly to his nerves and bones, yet the blood will be redirected.” She shook her head. “He’s explained it to me and will have to explain it to you again. We are going to be working until the sun almost rises.” She sighed. “Goddess, the poor boy has gotten so skinny, not that he had much to spare before. His diet was horrible too, he’s glad to be young and able to burn it off.”

Diana waited patiently.

“Anyways, sorry, I haven't had such a serious case in all my life. I’m nearly ninety too,” Kalyah grinned.

“A very young elf,” Diana replied.

“Not for a Pixie elf like me, I’ve got nearly four hundred years left to go, if I stay fit, more, goddess willing,” she stated.

“I was wondering,” Diana admitted, but it hadn't occupied her mind much at all. Nothing besides distraction and horror had kept her mind running for what felt like forever.

“You humans always are, I don’t blame you, there’s too many of us to keep track of. Glad my legs aren’t so dwarfish you knew on sight,” Kalyah said, straightening out her skirt. “Anyways, once more, let’s start here, at his collarbone.”

Diana conducted a trickle of sap from the daisy and onto the boy’s skin. Mid-stream she added her own power to the flow, turning the dark green fluid light, adding a sparkle to it. Kalyah lay one hand on his cream covered wounds and kept the other by her mouth, praying quietly to her goddess in her native tongue. Slowly, both their hearts steadily beating at a quicker pace, they expanded the skin, easing it back into place. The tightness left at the daisy’s power and the higher layers of flesh returned at the prayers.

Every ten or fifteen minutes the two took a quick breather. After the course of an hour, they had repaired his torso to the waist. It was slow going, especially for magical healing, but Kalyah wanted to make sure he could still feel everything. A mix of the heat and teleportation had made them particularly strange. The cream and stasis had kept them from infecting or growing worse. Talking in their breaks, Kalyah confirmed that if anything had gone wrong in her process, no praying would keep this man from being cold dead. Save a resurrection, which the Priestess detested on principle. The act was widely detested and prone to mishaps. Very commonly what came back was not what had died to a disastrous degree. Everything had been tried for Luann, every ritual and rite, eventually the Queen admitted it was good that her daughter was at rest. It didn’t stop her from screaming at the Clerics in the attempts. Stealing one’s life blood, the only thing capable of bringing back Blodwyn after so long entombed, was another hard barrier besides all the qualms already existing for attempting a revival. Even though death kept springing up in her head, Diana managed to push them away, focusing on the life in front of her.

An hour and a half had passed since the two started and the last portion had been done straight, the goal in sight. Kalyah got up with a groan, stretching her arms and twisting her back. Diana did much the same, Aiko chuffing at her happily as she rolled her shoulders. They had this, it was going well.

“We’re done until the actual procedure,” Kalyah said, with some tiredness in her voice. “Maybe some food, some coffee…” She gazed down at her patient. “Poor boy has lost so much sun, he was a pretty shade.”

“The healed areas are discolored,” Diana remarked.

Kalyah nodded. “They’re struggling to get blood,” she said. A fist to her lips, she whispered a prayer. “Come out of your freeze, move again…” She tapped the boy’s forehead. Eyes still closed, he took a deep breath, shifting about sleepily. The chopped portions of his limbs, still carefully wrapped, moved about feebly as he tried to turn on his side. The color returned to the regions they had worked so hard to repair. His face showed discomfort, grunting.

“Is he suffering?” Diana asked.

The Healer smiled, shaking her head. “No, he’s cold,” she said, pulling the blanket back over him. She tucked the pillow under his head as well, gently moving him to his side as he kept trying. His lower arm moved out, as he probably expected his hand to comfort him. “If he wasn’t under such heavy prayers and loaded with your plant, then he’d wake up at the slightest bump. I can’t keep him under stasis any longer, the limbs will be locally stopped up. I’ll tell you more in a moment, but your job will be much the same as it was before. Though I hope you have some Numb Spores as well.”

“Yes, I do,” Diana said. “Enough for an entire garden of that fungi.”

“Good, Stephan is looking to drive anchors into his bone marrow,” Kalyah said, with an unpleasant face. “I don’t know how my fellows attach prosthetics so commonly. It sounds like miserable work, driving metal rods into bone. It’s condoned though, not much different than a wooden limb, except the level of function.”

“Your fellows at Academia’s temple?” Diana wondered, always eager to learn.

The Priestess’s face went stoney, flashing a smirk. “I’m a long time gone from there,” she said quietly. “Now, let’s call the rest in. I’ll drag Stephan in if I have to…” She pressed a button beside the door, barking a summon into it. “It’s tonight or I wake him up and you’ll have to explain why he’s still limbless!” she added as a threat. Something had made her mad, and it didn’t seem like procrastination or perfectionism was the cause.

Within a moment Angelina, Fia, and a man with cords of long braided black hair came in. Although his grooming seemed relaxed, goatee in a rough spike, his gray eyes were wild, constantly flitting from one thing to another. He rushed towards the bed, a pack slung over his shoulder, the contents of which clanked around.

“Why isn’t he all the way ready?” Stephan asked, his finger twitching about the man’s limbs.

“He is. I told you we can’t open his limbs without him bleeding out,” Kalyah said, shortly. “You wanted me to open them all up and keep bowls over them. That’s stupid.”

“It’s what my book says,” he said, looking down at the Pixie. He wore a sleeveless and dirty tunic, covered in oil and grease, which brought a glare from the Healer.

“That’s when an entire Trio and two Druids would be assisting,” Kalyah said with a flare of her nostrils. “You would basically be watching.”

Stephan closed his eyes, nodding. “Right, right, okay. I’ve got them.” He turned towards the Pirate. “The Captain has them.” Angelina was carefully carrying a wrapped bundle. Noticing the princess, the mechanic bowed, the contents of his bag sliding, still trapped and bumped into the back of his head before straightening up. “Good evening, your majesty! Stephan Kareem, at your service. Thank you for your assistance.” He rubbed under his corded hair.

“Your highness,” Angelina corrected through a barred tooth smile.

“Yes, your highness,” Stephan nodded to the Captain. “Damnit, sorry, thank you princess Diana.”

The Druid smiled, laughing was hard recently, and it would be funnier if it wasn't for the fact this man was going to help them perform life saving surgery.

“Don’t worry, he’s socially inept, not mentally,” Angelina said, setting her cargo on the bed. “He’s what keeps this ship flying, as it is now. Never a failure in all his years aboard.”

The sandy skinned man flushed as best he could. “You honor me, Captain,” he said, performing a salute from a far off land filled with endless heat, sand and gigantic machines made of brass gears.

The Witch had walked around to where Kalyah had done all her work. A swiftly drawn glyph of harsh lines had formed in the air, held by her long fingers. Its twin had taken shape over the boy in the bed’s forehead. Crudely the symbol was a three pronged spear, a thought snare. “I would like you to wake him, his origins interest me,” she said plainly. Her violet eyes were ringed with puffy clouds of cosmic smoke. Diana disliked the abstract nature of Witchcraft, many spells more indirect than divine prayers, but a majority of the direct magic was far more invasive and frightening than her Druidism.

“I will wake him after the surgery, ma’am,” Kalyah said, incling her head. “He would be in too much shock to reply to anything now.”

Closing her probing fingers, the Witch’s snare collapsed, taking all the effects with it. She glanced at the stoic Pirate, grinning. “That’s fair. An interesting world he comes from, the same as our Machinist, but far more advanced I’d say,” she said sweetly. “I saw nothing to suggest his new additions will be anything but an improvement to his life before them.” She clicked away from the bed, perching up beside the tiger on the couch’s narrow arm. “Don’t let me intervene.”

Aiko stared at the powerful and long lived woman for a moment, before looking at Diana with a snort and laying her head back down. No sent emotions came and while she represented the sources, a force that should revere Heroes of such magnitude, it was also a part of her. The unimpressed expression mirrored her uncertainty. Older than most of those in the room, her ways were most likely too alien for them to understand, at least for Diana. The Witch was constantly on the hunt for her enemy, an ally was an ally. The other crew members had already shrugged off the strange request and were setting up for the surgery.

The Pirate waved to leave and Diana handed her the two Primordial Daisy husks they had used in the burn healing. “Would you please throw these in the ocean? They served us well, they deserve to benefit the world one last time,” the Druid said with a grin.

Returning the expression, the Pirate took them. The parrot on her shoulder eyed the flowers, licking its beak with its black tongue. “A delicacy for the fish below,” she chuckled. “Best of luck, I’ll send Lucy down with vittles to keep you going. It’s gonna be a wild night. I’d love to talk a bit when the boy wakes up.” She glanced at her fellow Hero. “Let me know if anything goes wrong.”

“I’ll be speaking to him first,” the Witch said firmly.

“We need assistance,” Kalyah said, eyes beckoning Diana over.