Chapter 1
The lower level of the ship smelled of rancid sea life and oil from the kitchens.
Breccia curbed her appetite on burned coffee, trying to keep quiet so not to disturb the sailors above her.
Even with the money she saved and the bit Vanessa sent, it wasn't much. She was still forced to scheme her way onto a merchant boat.
"Here," A portly cook, the only other woman on board, but a plate on the crate before Breccia. Her broken English was about as intelligible as the food was edible. "Hot mash warms the bones. Birtan winds will cut through such a scrawny thing."
Not wan ting to be rude, Breccia gulped the last of her coffee, swallowing a thin layer of grounds at the bottom. Seizing the plate she took note of the milky, watery mash. A mixture of flour and chopped orans had congealed at the top. "It's-" She swallowed, coughing when a lump lodged in her throat. "Good..."
Her lie must've been convincing because the cook clicked her tongue, summoning a tiny stripped ball of fur, She took it in her arms, squeezing and kissing it's snout. "It's Swinub first time as cook. Such good mash!" The creature snorted and wiggled gleefully in her grasp. "We should be in Birtan within the hour. Keep ear out for captain to call."
Setting her cup down and blowing into her pals, Breccia sniffled. Her nose was reddened and her breath hovered in clouds above her head.
On deck, the sailors glared past her. Some gave a degrading sneer while others were nice enough to look on. The captain, an aging man with mattered gray hair and a beard that matched, called at the first site of Isador, Birtan's capital. He whistled up to the lone Chatot on the mast, receiving a similar call back before it flew and perched upon his shoulder.
"Seen a lot of mainlanders on this ship." The captain commented to Breccia as the sails were drawn. "They last a few days before begging me to take 'em back."
Considering all that had occurred, the last thing Breccia wanted was more negative attention. It wasn't her first choice to travel in such squalled conditions. Had she had her way, she'd be aboard the S.S. Anne. Though the liner hardly made trips past Unova anymore and the crew didn't want her kind aboard.
'One hell of an adventure, huh dad'?
It was thoughts of her father that brought forth scarce feelings of joy. Her past sometimes made her smile. She was a rambunctious child and she was always getting into something she wasn't supposed to. Granted, she always looked forward to being at her dad's clinic than she did with her mother. Helping him with the Pokemon got her through the boring slog of life.
The clinic itself was always a point of contention between her parents. Her mother hated the idea of her daughter being away longer than she had to be. Regardless, she did as she was supposed to, allowing Breccia to visit her father in Lavender on weekends and in the summer. That was until her mother flipped her lid following an argument with her dad and tried to steal Breccia away to Alola. They stayed in a hotel for a few weeks before the courts were able to track them down and Breccia was sent to live with her dad for good. (Her mother basically vanished from her life after that).
Back in the present, they docked, the port town of Isador coming into view. Pale natives went about their business, wrapped in heavy furs. Some stood behind their market stalls while their children played in the allies created by their stone cabins. Outside of the black, coal burned chimneys, the hair was crisp, cool and clean.
The street sweepers were in the process of cleaning the walkway on the main drag. A team of Machokes rolled the snow into massive piles while Growlithe came up behind them and seared away the mounds of ice with the flames dancing on it's breath.
Dodging the masses, Breccia found that, even in a crowd, body heat did little to protect her bones from the razor winds.