image [https://i.imgur.com/7nAVBWI.png]

There’s something I should explain about Cassa before I continue, Mr. Dormand. As I have said a few times now, Cassa is one of the wilderkind. I’m sure you’ve heard of his sort before, but being from Palia, you might not know very much about them.

Wilderkind are regular folks, like you or me, that have been imbued with elemental magic through a particular ritual. Since this ritual is native to the land of Akadeli, I can’t imagine too many have come your way before.

The ritual is usually performed at a very young age and, in effect, recreates the child as something new. Somewhat like the phoenix, the child is reborn.

This transformation comes with its own strengths and fragilities. As well as the physical changes—the pale skin, wavy hair, and glowing eyes, for example—all wilderkind develop an affinity for any magic within their domain and a resistance against it as well. In Cassa’s case, this meant being totally impervious to all forms of fire and heat. You could hit that man with the sun itself, and he would escape with not so much as a tan.

You may see where I’m going with this.

When Cassa stepped back out of the boathouse keeper’s office, he took a walk back down the stairs and into the party. The revelry was still fully in swing, and the pirates were too far gone to take much notice of him.

He slipped quietly into the back hallways, away from the bulk of the party, and started peering into doorways until he found what he was looking for. It was possibly the only room of the house not occupied by random brawls or gambling.

Right at the back of the house was a tiny room, a supply closet. Along with a couple of junk-filled shelves, it housed three large barrels of spare gunpowder to be used in case any of the ships' reserves ran low.

Cassa took a look around to make sure the coast was clear. He got a good distance away before holding one hand straight ahead of him and muttering a quiet incantation under his breath.

A tiny splinter of wood right beside one of the barrels started to smoulder. Suddenly, a small fire erupted from it. Cassa lowered his hand but continued to focus on the fire, unblinking. The fire started to spread until it became a bonfire, slowly engulfing the floor around it. It was only when he saw the flames start to lick at the edge of the nearest barrel that he broke his focus, turned, and began to walk with urgency back the way he came.

The party raged on as he entered back in the main room. A drunk deckhand wandered his way and attempted to challenge him to an arm wrestling match. Cassa ducked to one side, and the drunk fell over, splashing ale as he fell. Some of his surrounding fellows saw him go down, and a group of them began to laugh and slap their knees at his bad luck.

‘I wonder if they would be laughing if they knew their own bad luck,’ Cassa thought to himself as he climbed the stairs back up to the second level.

He got to the top level and turned left this time into the small, empty storeroom he had passed before. No sooner had he swung the door close that he heard the first of three blasts, followed shortly by any and all laughter ceasing.

The first detonation brought dead silence. Whereas the main hall had been a cacophony of music and shouting, for a split second you could have heard a pin drop. The second raised the shouting again, although of a much different sort than before. Pirates could be heard screaming and climbing over each other in confusion, each of them trying to get away from a threat they could not yet understand. The third triggered an understanding of the danger, along with the first discernible words since the party had begun.

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From below, someone screamed, “FIRE!”

The next thing Cassa heard was the frantic sound of dozens of pairs of feet scrambling towards the entrance of the building.

The old wood of the house made for excellent material for the fire to spread. The smell of smoke was already starting to build. Cassa pulled out a red neck scarf from his pocket and tied it around his mouth. He might have been able to resist the flame well enough, but inhaling that smoke could have still been lethal if he wasn’t careful.

He got as low down as he could to get away from the worst of the smoke and started to wait. Specifically, he was waiting for four sets of running footsteps to clatter down the stairs and away from him. He didn’t have to wait long because the boathouse keeper and his three lackeys came barrelling out of the office and ran screaming down the stairs in a hurry.

Cassa didn’t even wait for them to be out of the house before he swiftly opened the door and began to sprint down the hallway. He got in the office and quickly ran to where he had seen the key before. He grabbed it off its hook and snuck it into his pocket. He let out a sigh and, for the first time that night, felt like something was going his way.

That feeling can’t have lasted for very long though, because almost the moment that key touched his pocket, he heard something that made his blood run cold. He heard the crunch and shatter of the staircase behind him as it completely collapsed.

Cassa didn’t even need to check; he knew it to be true, as this was the one thing he had been dreading—one hitch in his plan that he couldn’t shake but didn’t have the time to think over—how he was going to get out of there.

Mr. Underbrook, Renna, and I had been waiting back on the beach while all of this was happening, none the wiser to the chaotic plan that Cassa had hatched. We only became aware something was amiss around the time that the pirates did. We saw an explosion tear a hole clear through the back of the house, followed by two more, which quickly engulfed the left side in a huge ball of fire.

All of a sudden, Renna broke formation from where we were hiding and rushed forward towards the inferno. Mr. Underbrook tried to stop her, but she was already halfway up the hill. She was keeping to the shadows to not be seen, but, in any case, the pirates’ attention was fixed on the house, which was quickly turning into a storm of flames.

Renna darted behind a large oak, scanning the house for any sign of Cassa. She heard shouting from above, looked up, and saw him waving his arms to her in a panic. Realising that the wilderkind was in way over his head, she shouted the only thing that came into her head.

"JUMP!” she yelled up to him.

Cassa stopped waving his arms and hesitated. He was well aware that this house was coming down around him and his unnatural talents would not save him from choking or being crushed to death by debris. Renna was right; that was the only way out of there.

He took a step back, then rushed forward and leaped out the window, towards the same tree that Renna was under. As soon as he took the jump, both Renna and Cassa knew that he would not make it. The distance was just too far. He started to fall and was mere seconds away from hitting the ground when it happened for the second time that night—Renna did it again.

She stuck her hand out, and an intense green light radiated outward from her hand, so bright that I could see it from all the way down the beach. A rope shot out from her hand and launched itself into the air. This wasn’t just any rope, Mr. Dormand. This thing had a life of its own. It twisted and turned in the air with an intention—the intention to save Cassa from his fate.

The rope wrapped itself around his wrist and pulled him up towards the sky. It slowed his fall and gently set him down on the ground before collapsing to the floor in a useless pile. Cassa barely had time to comprehend how she had gotten down before he saw Renna collapse next to her magical rope.

It was the strain of it all that everything out of her. That magic, that wild, untamed power is not something to be considered lightly. If used improperly, it could endanger the user's life; Renna almost paid that price. It would take us years to fully master the powers of the stones, but there'll be more time to talk about that later.