"Come on lads! Time to shove off!" Leechbeard bellowed, standing at the helm of his retrofitted skyship. 

Foran scrambled up the ropes, helping the other boys loosen the sails. The one who had stolen from him, Lore, playfully pushed his tall dark haired friend out of the way. The two boys passed each other on the mast, but Foran avoided eye contact. He was still mad about the thievery.

A crisp breeze ruffled his dark hair as they untied the sun sails. He was up high, sitting on the mast, but heights had never bothered Foran. The bird on his arm, which he had named Kia, ruffled her feathers excitedly in the cold wind. 

When the sails were all loose, the boys slid down the ropes to join Leechbeard on deck. His eyes gleamed with excitement and his coat flapped impressively in the wind. He struck an impressive image, sillouhetted against the clouds. 

"Okay boys, let's go!" he roared, stomping on a pedal on the floor. 

All along the mast tiny sun stones flickered to life. The sail opened like a huge wing, webs of light spanning across it. With a shudder and creak, the boat pulled away from Kreport. 

Foran turned back to look at the retreating city. People were milling around, markets were selling goods, and in the distance he could see a slave wagon rolling in. He felt a stab of pity for the slaves, mixed with a wild ecstacy that he was away from that life.

Leechbeard had paid off his slave debt yesterday, and Foran was one hundred percent free. 

As the wind picked up and brushed his face, he took a deep breath. This was living. 

The ship slowly turned to put it's back to the wind. They were still barely moving, and Foran looked around in confusion. He noticed, too late, that all the boys and Leechbeard had grabbed onto something solid. 

The ship jerked forward suddenly, sending him flying. 

The sky ship rode the wind away from Kreport, sails full of light and sky. They pulled away and soared.

Foran untangled himself from the mass of ropes he had fallen into, Kia chittering angrily at the sudden movement. Foran grimaced apolagetically at her and slapped his hat back on his head. Leeachbeard had gifted him with a new set of clothes more suited to sailing. 

He now wore a navy trench coat, long black leather boots, and a wide brimmed hat. An old dagger was tucked into the wide belt at his waist. Leechbeard had given that to him to, adding, "Though I doubt you'll need it boy." 

Foran still felt ill at ease with the concept of being a storm striker, but if it got him away from the slave's life, he wasn't going to argue. 

Leechbeard stood at the helm, eyes shining. All the other boys seemed elated too, a whole new world of opportunity and adventure open to them.