BOOM!
Jay had just ran past the treeline when the explosion occurred. He was lifted off his feet by the concussive force of the blast and flung into the trunk of a nearby tree. His already injured arm took the brunt of the impact. Groaning, Jay rolled around on the ground, clutching his injured arm once more.
“Dammit all! Why always my left side! What did it ever do to deserve this kind of abuse!” Jay yelled, angry with the universe.
That must have been mana powder in those casks, it is stable but very explosive when other mana is introduced.
“How the hell was it set off then? I didn’t release any mana into it!” Jay exclaimed.
The fire you started contained traces of the elemental Mana from the Emberstone. All magic effects contain Mana obviously, the fire was started by elemental Mana so therefore it will contain elemental Mana.
“Oh. Could’ve used this explanation earlier.”
Yeah, well, I forgot you were a toddler playing with fire.
“Hey! You’re the one that's supposed to be teaching me this crap!”
If you didn’t get so cocky just because you learned a simple trick, and actually discussed this stuff with me, you wouldn't have destroyed your one shot at survival!
“Enough, I get it, you’re right. I got a little carried away with learning how to do magic. Now we’re back at square one with little food or water and still no way off this island.”
Jay looked troubled, looking at his arm and the small sack of items he was able to take from the cellar.
Jay closed his eyes. It had been a long day and night was fast approaching, judging by the waning sunlight. He needed to get his shit together and figure a way out of this predicament. Opening his eyes, Jay got to his feet, once again filled with the will to survive this. He turned around and went back to the clearing to see if there was anything he could salvage.
“Ho. Ly. Shit…”
Where there once was a clearing, there was now a deep crater. Most of the blast from the mana powder had been directed upwards, but there was still a lot of damage to the surrounding dirt which had exposed rock in places. There were still small fires here and there from burning shrapnel.
It’s a miracle you got out of there in time, let alone far enough away to survive the blast.
Jay shuddered. “You don’t say. I don’t think there is going to be anything worth salvaging from this mess.”
Yeah, I guess it’s time you explore the rest of the island.
***
Nathaniel Merryweather, cabin boy, powder monkey, and general dogsbody of the corsair ship, Lost Soul, was busy in the galley; he was peeling the last of the crew's fresh vegetables. The ship was on the last leg of its journey and was preparing to resupply at their hidden cache. They would have one last fresh meal on the island before heading off to their final, nearby destination in the morning.
“Boy! Hurry up with those, we’re almost there!” the cook yelled at Nate.
“Boy this, boy that. I’m tired of this shit,” thought Nate. “My father had me on this ship since I was old enough to swing a sword! I know every nail in the hull! I’m the youngest so they treat me as their servant!” complained Nate in his head. He had recently turned 17, he should be a full crew member by now! Not that he was especially thrilled at that prospect either with what happened these last few years.
Sadly, these thoughts just brought up memories of the past for Nate; memories of when his father was the one running the ship. Memories of how he and his father sparred on the foredeck, being taught how to handle the sails, how to navigate, how to lead. Nate learned everything he knew from his father, a man who was respected by not only his own crew but other corsairs as well. As one of the most successful corsairs there ever was, Nate’s father was a legend. That all went away two years ago when his father had died during a leviathan attack. A lot of the old crew had died during that attack; Nate himself had fought even though he was unawakened, and had no Mana Cores of his own yet. He was knocked unconscious early in the fight, and didn’t even witness how his father had died. His father had been collecting a special set of cores for him and promised to give them to him on his 16th birthday. If only he had had those cores and his soul had been awakened. He could’ve saved them all, or so he chose to believe.
His father’s bosun, Morgain, was the highest-ranking crewmember to have survived the attack, and promptly took over as captain. The Lost Soul, Nate’s heritage, stolen from him by a man that did not have what it takes to be a true corsair captain, at least Nate didn't think so. His father’s crew had respected him as their leader, mainly due to him treating them as equals, and they chose to follow him for it. Meanwhile, Morgain ran his crew through intimidation and fear. He and his other officers took the bulk of shares, while the rest were, essentially, a press-ganged crew.
“Out of respect,” for his father, Morgain allowed Nate to remain on the ship as its cabin boy. What he really wanted, Nate knew from the beginning; his fathers’ navigational charts and the knowledge of the area he had passed down to Nate. He was practically a prisoner aboard this ship.
The Lost Soul was sailing across the choppy waters, heading towards the deserted island where they stashed their supplies. The dark clouds behind held the promise of a nasty storm waiting for them that night. Luckily, they would be in the safe harbor of the island and could ride out the storm under spare canvas on dry land.
After finishing his work in the galley, Nate moved out onto the deck. He was scheduled to be the lookout for the afternoon, the one job he didn’t mind doing. Scrambling up the foremast and into the rigging, Nate balanced himself and started to scan the horizon. Off in the distance, he spotted the island they were heading to.
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BOOM!
The loud sound of explosions almost knocked the startled Nate from his perch. He straightened himself and adjusted his grip on the mast. Looking towards the island, the only place near enough to be the source of the explosion, Nate saw dark smoke billowing up from the jungle.
Sliding down the foremast, Nate then jumped off to grab the fore boom, nimbly swinging out and letting go. Nate hit the deck, absorbed the shock with a forward roll, and ran towards the aft deck where the captain was currently talking with the quartermaster.
“Sir, there’s smoke coming from the island!” said Nate, coming to a halt a fair distance from a rotund, unshaven, and very ripe-smelling man.
The captain, bedecked in enough gold and jewels to sink him should he fall overboard, shouted at the navigator. “Get us there, NOW!” as he pointed in the direction of the island. The navigator drew on his Mana Core and summoned a wind to increase their speed.
“The island is deserted, it can’t sustain life. What could possibly be the source of that smoke?” Morgain asked over his shoulder to his quartermaster.
“The only thing on that island is our supply cache,” the quartermaster replied. “Someone must have found it. Why they would set it on fire though, I have no idea. The explosion must have been from the mana powder we had stored there.”
Pulling out his spyglass, the captain tried to spot if there was another ship anchored offshore. They had chosen this island as their supply depot because it only had one safe direction from which to go ashore. The rest of the island was surrounded by shallow waters, rocks, and sandbars. Looking at the only safe anchorage, Morgain saw that there was no ship nor even a small skiff on the beach. There was nothing, so how could there be someone on the island.
“A castaway? It couldn’t be, no ship sails these waters, they’re too dangerous. That leviathan earlier is a testament to that,” Morgain thought, remembering the terror he felt when that shadow had passed under them.
“Are you sure that smoke is coming from the spot where our stash is located?” asked Morgain. The quartermaster pulled out his own spyglass and focused on the location of the smoke. “Yes Captain,” replied the quartermaster.
Morgain was growing impatient and angrier with each passing minute as the ship neared the island.
“How dare someone raid our supplies! GUNNER! Ready the crew! No matter who is on that island, we will hunt them down like dogs! They need to be taught that we are not to be messed with,“ Captain Morgain said with a baleful look in his eyes.
***
Exploring the rest of the island didn’t improve Jay's situation all that much. He did find some coconut and banana trees but the supply was limited. There was no freshwater, which drastically reduced the time he could survive here. He only had the half-full jug he had taken from the cellar and no fragments he could use to create more. He also had no way to get more fragments, as monsters did not seem to spawn on the island. His earlier quest must have been a special circumstance. In the end, Jay decided to return to the beach where he had started, hoping he could catch some fish or sea monsters while he waited for whoever owned those supplies to return.
Jay returned to the path where he had fought the oozes and made his way towards the beach. As he got closer, he started to hear something strange. Jay stopped walking and focused on the sound. Jay’s eyes widened as he realized what he had heard. Voices.
“Kay! There are people here!” Jay shouted as he ran towards the voices.
Jay, slow down…
But it was too late, Jay emerged from the tree line and on to the beach. He appeared so suddenly, it was as if he was an apparition. Jay stared at the men he found standing on the beach with their cutlasses drawn. They had noticed him just as he noticed them. Everyone froze as if they were startled deer.
“There’s one! Get him!” A bejeweled, fat man shouted.
Run! If they are the owners of those supplies, you’re in trouble. Those don’t look like people that will take kindly to your unintended destruction.
Jay turned back the way he had come and ran for it. The angry mob of men not far behind. “What’s the plan here Kay?”
Run! That’s as far as I got!
Jay snorted and grabbed his key. Turning to the side a little, Jay whipped the key sidearm at the closest man. He was aiming for his leg and hoping to cause him to fall, starting a domino effect with the men behind. However, while he did hit the man with the key, it had spun in the air and had hit with the blunt bow side, causing no damage.
You call that a throw? You want me to start calling you Nancy again?!
The key reappeared in Jay’s hand seconds later and he tried the throw again. Success! This time the key hit the man right where he had aimed and pierced deeply into the man's thigh causing him to fall. Unfortunately for Jay, these men were sailors. They were used to being on a ship in stormy seas and agilely jumped over the obstacle the fallen man presented. Seeing one of their own go down only incensed them further.
The chase continued with Jay occasionally throwing the key back at the sailors, however, that had wised up to this trick and were prepared to dodge it each time. While some still suffered minor injuries, no one had fallen out of the chase since the first man. Jay eventually reached the clearing and slid down the side of the crater before returning to his feet to keep running.
Upon seeing the crater the fat man roared, clearly enraged. “Why is all the rum gone! You’re dead!” The fat man bellowed as dust was kicked up at his feet.
Looking back at the screaming fat man, Jay blinked. The next second, the fat man had vanished.
“What the hell?” Jay mumbled as he turned to face front, only to see a giant fist filling up his vision. That was the last thing he saw before his vision turned black.
***
Morgain stared down at the pissant who dared offend him, with the tattered, dirt-stained pants and shirt the man looked like a corpse already. On closer inspection, Morgain decided the man looked to be in his mid-twenties but was so emaciated it was hard to tell. He might have been good looking at one point but was now just skin and bones. “Not that it matters,” Morgain thought. “He’s about to die.”
Pulling his sword from the sheath at his waist, Morgain grasped the hilt with both hands and moved the point over the man’s heart. Just as he was about to end the man’s life, the voice of his quartermaster called out to him.
“Wait a moment, Captain,” said the quartermaster. “You know where we're going, he could be useful.”
“Useful, how? Look at him, he’ll be as useful as that stupid cabin boy,” said Morgain.
“Our stash was well hidden, there is no possible way he could have found it without some type of ability,” the quartermaster said, greatly overestimating Jay. “We don’t know what we will be walking into there. He must be a rogue-type specializing in detection. He can locate traps and other secrets for us.”
“Hmm, fine but he’s your problem then. He better prove useful.” Morgain sheathed his sword, turning from the body that was no longer his concern.
“NATE!” The quartermaster yelled. “Get some rope and tie him up. Have one of the crew help carry him back to the skiff, we’ll throw him in the brig. He is now your responsibility.
Nate grumbled as he tied up the unknown man. “More damn grunt work, I hope they all get killed going there. Greedy bastards.” Nate called out for a deckhand to help carry the unconscious man. Unbeknownst to the corsairs, a small part of the man wasn’t as unconscious as the rest and had overheard their entire conversation.
Shit just got real.