The common dream of being a hero plagues the average village teenager, and Jack is no exception. He is content with admiring the soldiers occupying his small town, and eventually inheriting the role of a blacksmith. His life came with constant remi...
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The small town sits quietly in the moonlight. Sounds only came from the creatures rustling in the forest to the east. A cool blue light bathed the town, with only the small flickers of torches lighting the streets. The orange glow danced against the blue, fighting across the walls, across the dirt roads, across the conventional night. In a matter of seconds, the orange won.
A large explosion erupted from the east. Trees burning in the forest and now in the town when flaming logs crashed into the wall and nearby homes. Young Jack shoots out of bed at the sound of the explosion. He stares out his window at the fire spreading in the distance, until his father burst into the room grabbing him by the arm and tossing him onto his shoulder. Dragged out, barely seeing through the blanket he was draped in. Smoke still found a way to his nose and water streamed from his eyes. The feeling of his skin getting warmer frightened him, but the sound of everything around him was by far the scariest. The sound of the initial explosion was nothing compared to the fright of townsfolk running, the loud commands as people tried to take control of the situation. Jack didn't know fire itself could crackle so loud.
His dad placed him on the street, and turned back to see his house was joining the orange. "Stay here. I am going back for your mom!" his dad exclaimed while already running into the burning building.
"Nooooo! Dad!" Jack screamed as a hand had held him back. "Help! Someone help. Help please! Get him back! Anyone! Please."
"It's too dangerous." Arms wrapped around his shoulder and pulled him back. A long paused followed the deep breath. "We aren't heroes. He will be okay."
Jack didn't know who was holding him, but his eyes were glued to the wooden walls of their home, just waiting on his dad to burst through the flames. He didn't expect to see it come crashing down first.
***
Jack's eyes flew open, and he was already sitting up in his bed. Hands gripping the mattress ends as tight as he can, sweat running down his forehead. It was the same nightmare that haunted him many times in the past but hadn't plagued him in a while. He wondered if anything special was going to happen today, anything good, really hoping it wasn't an omen. A chill shook him from thought, followed by a deep breath. His eyes shift to the window, a clear blue sky. The little salamander scuttled across the window ledge before it spit fire onto a mantis, swallowing the roasted insect. Jack stretched his arms and takes one last deep breath. The sound of the town is bustling. Another day begins and it looks to be a beautiful one.
Jack hurried through his morning routine and rushes down the stairs. He moved quickly through the house only to come to a sudden halt. Turning to his left, he lights an incense next to the one already burning. He clasped his hands together and bowed his head in front of a painting of his mother. He smiled and continues out to the workhouse. The clanking of metal is already at work.
"Dad, did you eat?" Jack exclaimed while bursting the door open. His father sat at the anvil in his wheelchair pounding the red-hot metal into shape.
"Yea and I left some on the table for you," his dad replies as he looked up to see his son smiling with the toasted bread hanging from his mouth.
