The fire raged in the back of the bakery, Henry’s eyes fixed on it’s glow. He was so fixated, in fact, that he didn’t notice that the roof above him had joined the rest of the building in flame, and was preparing fall victim to gravity. “Eyes sharp, lad! Above ya!” the old man shouted, bringing Henry out of his trance in time for the roof to fall in on him, knocking him unconscious.

“Bloody hell…” the old man whispered, the last thing Henry heard as he floated into darkness.

It was several days until Henry came to, baffled to find himself in his own bed and not suffering from anything more than light burns and one terrible headache. He achingly crawled out of his bed, walking out into the kitchen where he overheard his father speaking to the town minister in hushed tones.

“Reverend, it was bizarre… The bakery was burned down, Henry was outside, and all around there were ravens. Ravens! Beyond that, Henry has spent the past days mumbling in tongues, not making sense at all.”

“Well, hopefully I’ll make more sense now,” Henry announced, smiling sheepishly. The Reverend and Henry’s father looked surprised to see Henry up and about, the minister offering a whispered prayer of thanks.

“How are you feeling, boy?” Henry’s father asked, getting up to embrace his son. “You gave me quite a fright, you know!”

“I know, father, and I’m sorry… I just don’t know what happened…”

The minister and Henry’s father gave each other a quick glance, indicating to Henry that they knew more than they were letting on. The reverend got up, placing his hand on Henry’s shoulder as he shuffled to the door. “I do believe the two of you have a lot of talking to do… So long, Henry. John.”

Henry sat down, expecting his father to begin filling in the gaps and explaining what had occurred. His father, however, just looked at his son, his eyes beginning to water. Henry was about to ask what was wrong, when he caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror on the wall, and he suddenly understood; running down his face was a scar, identical to the one that had been on the old man, and his hair had charred, leaving short patches of his formerly brown hair, making him look quite the frightful sight. He thought better of trying to reach out to his father, and quietly announced that he’d be going outside for a moment to get some air.

Henry’s father looked back, giving a weak smile of approval. Henry stepped out and noticed the tree outside was full of ravens, and, sitting next to it, was the old man.

“Hello, boy. Glad to see you’re up and about,” the old man wheezed.

“How long have you been waiting here?” Henry asked alarmingly. “Just who are you, anyway?”

“Men call me Lugus. And I’ve been around, lad, waiting for you to wake up. See, I need to do some apologizing… Y’see, I fear that fire may have been my fault, and I figured I might owe you a bit of an explaination.”