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Just A Simple Heist
Prologue: Distant Memories

Prologue: Distant Memories

At first, there is fire. Nothing but fire. Blistering, ravenous, it devours everything it touches.

Then comes the smell. It washes over me in a wave. Putrid and thick, the combination of still-burning wood and charred flesh fills the air. It overwhelms my senses as I struggle to move forward. I stumble. Looking down, I see the culprit – a burnt timber that must have come from the supports holding up the roof of one of the nearby buildings.

Struggling back to my feet, I’m overwhelmed by the sounds around me. The crackling of the fire, the screams, and the wailing coming from my neighbors. If I hadn’t just come back from the comparatively peaceful academy grounds after another grueling day of class, I would’ve thought that the world was ending.

As I push my way past those fleeing the fire, I notice something calling out to me at the peripheral of my hearing. But something else has grabbed the whole of my senses and refuses to let go. As I look forward, I see my home, only hours before a place of comfort and respite, reduced to a blackened husk, smoldering as the buildings beside it continue to go up in flames.

A person shakes my shoulder. I look over and see one of my neighbors, Ryan. An older man, Ryan had become something of a father-figure to me after my real father’s passing when I was younger.

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“Ren. Ren! Things here are still dangerous. We need to leave so the fires can begin to be contained.”

Ryan says, breaking me out of my shocked state. As I regained some of my lost awareness, my thoughts immediately return to that burnt-out shell that had previously been my home and the other person that should have been there waiting for me had this fire never occurred.

“Ryan, where’s my mother? Have you seen her in the crowd? Do you know if she got out of our house?” As the panic in my voice reaches a crescendo, I turn to Ryan with what must appear to be hints of madness in my eyes. The look I receive in return speaks volumes, with the mixture of sadness and pity in Ryan’s eyes conveying everything that words could say and more.  

Because of this, I attempt to rush through the smoke to search through the rubble of my home. Ryan, however, wraps his arms around my chest and pulls me back. Me, the burgeoning scholar, have no hope of escaping the vice-like grip of a lifelong blacksmith.

Ryan restrains me like this for what feels like an eternity. As I continue to struggle, my efforts slowly start to dwindle. Eventually, the night grows dim as the fires around me burn or are put out. My neighbors return in a trickle. Whether they come to look for loved ones or check the extent of the damage to a business or house, they are accompanied by the dark aura that associates with those who have lost something irreplaceable this night. And, as I finally collapse due to exhaustion and shock, all fades to black…

And then, I awaken.

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