The fight had been going well. The pirates were untrained and even if they had been better fighters, Irina would have doubted their weapons would have been able to do much damage through her chainmail.

Indeed, most trouble flowed from taking them down without hurting them too much. From what she’d heard, these pirates weren’t bad people. They hadn’t killed anyone so far, not even the baron’s prissy son from whom they had ‘liberated’ the boat. They were just working through some lingering resentment after the war.

Things changed when the Esprit was suddenly on fire. Judging by Sophia’s guilty expression, Irina was almost sure she was to blame. Sometimes she really hated mages.

“Let’s call a truce,” she said to her last still standing opponent. “I’m confident neither of us wants to see the Esprit burn to the ground, or this ship for that matter.”

Her opponent looked at her dubiously, cast a furtive look at the fire behind them and then ran off, jumping over the railing into the water. He had clearly deemed the ship beyond saving. While his survival instinct was commendable, Irina still found it rather disappointing

Irina stowed her weapons, just as Aitor approached her. His opponents were lying on the ground, unmoving but still breathing.

“Now, this is unfortunate. Any plans on what to do?” Aitor asked her.

“Maybe. Sophia, think you can do anything about the fire?” Irina shouted.

“I’m not very good at water spells,” she stammered, still staring at the flickering flames.

“As opposed to fire spells,” Aitor muttered under his breath. “Well, try alright?

“We’ll make sure the fire doesn’t consume our ship in the meantime. Get some buckets people!” Irina shouted at the crew, who were giving them fearful and angry looks. She could hardly fault them. Their livelihood was at risk. Then again, no doubt Niccolo would be able to reimburse them should the ship burn to the ground.