The Firekin was so, so small in Dillion's hands. It's even smaller than his palm; it's small enough to curl up in the fetal position without leaving the dip in his hand. Dillion didn't even know if he could hold the Firekin when he reached to pick it up off the muddy ground. It has been raining all night. Dillion expected to catch a glimpse of a Watersprite or even an Earthnome with how wet everything is, but not a Firekin! Water is the exact opposite of what a Firekin is. The rain is responsible for its limp state and small size.
     This is the first time that Dillion's seen an Elemental spirit up close. They're always extremely skittish and never let humans get close. Firekin are even rarer. The only place that they're supposed to live is a string of volcanic islands off the country's east side. Seeing one here, in the middle of the mountains, makes no sense.
     The Firekin sneezes, making its entire tiny body shudder. It's the first time it's moved since Dillion picked it up. Small yellow flames flicker along the edges of its body that shines with a hotter orange color. The Firekin is warm, but it doesn't burn Dillion's hand. Curled up like it is, all he can see is a muzzle poking out of the burning ball.
     Anyone else from Dillion's village would have let it die. Some might have even tossed it into a horse trough to finish the deed. Firekin are not seen as helpful like the rest of their elemental brethren. They only destroy. There's a reason that they were all chased away to the islands hundreds of years ago.
     Still, Dillion looks down at the weakening creature and can't see the evil in it. Both his parents went down to the market earlier this morning, so no one is there to see him take the Firekin into the house. Watersprites love the rain, and Airwhisps love to play on the breeze, so Firekin should be stronger around fire sources. Dillion sets the spirit down next to the hearth as he piles in some logs. It takes a few tries, but he manages to light a fire using some flint and steel that his father kept on the mantle. Dillion gently picks up the Firekin and sets it back down inches from the burning fire.
      It takes a few minutes for the spirit to uncurl itelsef. First, it's head pops out of the flames. Small black eyes look up at Dillion with evident hesitation. The Firekin has a fox-like muzzle and ears that both change shape with its licking flames. Dillion reaches out his hand, but the Firekin flinches back and hisses with a sound like sizzling coals.
       "Hey, it's ok. I'm not gonna hurt you", Dillion coos softly. He reaches out again and brushes one finger along the Firekin's cheek. It freezes at the touch. Then, slowly, when Dillion strokes it again, it leans into the touch. It's small body shudders again, and the Firekin uncurls its tail and stands up on rail thin legs. The tail is slightly longer than the rest of its body. Fire flickers and gutters all along its body. The Firekin takes a few stumbling steps closer to the burning logs. Before Dillion can help or stop it, the spirit takes one graceful leap right into the burning fire. It blends right in. Dillion wouldn't have been able to see it if two dark eyes didn't grow in size and turn to look at him.
       All the fire in the hearth leaps out and lands in Dillion's lap. The logs are smoldering without any flames. The Firekin's body takes shape again, this time larger, about the size of a young cat. Dillion is the one who flinches back this time. The living flame perches on his leg and looks at him quizzically. Those dark eyes seem to judge him and see right through to what he is deep down.
    Then the Firekin yips, a high pitched sound  like a dog, and dissolves into a trail of fire as it leaps and bounds right back out the door. Nothing else bursts into flames or gets destroyed like so many would believe. The Firekin leaves without doing any damage at all, a thank-you to the boy who saw more.