Lore for Dr. Crow Ren

There was once a young man called Crow who lived in a humble village, whiling away his days studying science and alchemy. Day in and day out, he tinkered and toyed with experiments, dreaming of using his knowledge to the betterment of the people in his village. One long night, as Crow burned the midnight oil, a young girl from the village crept in through his unwatched door. Before he knew it, Crow had found a lab partner, a friend, and even a lover in this curious stray. The two spent years working together and creating inventions for the sake of the village, hoping one day to make something that the whole world could benefit from.

After a particularly grueling day of tinkering, Crow found himself pinching the bridge of his nose. His beloved lab partner was nowhere to be seen all day, and as the sun began to set, his weariness overcame him. He went to rest his eyes for a moment when he heard a fierce rap upon his door. Crow peered out his front window to find a mass of shadows that darkened the face of his home. The village chief stood outside his door bearing a formal accusation of witchcraft in his hand, and beside him stood the girl who had stolen–and now broken–his heart. Crow’s heart pounded so loud in his ears that he couldn’t hear the chief’s declaration. The roaring of his blood was soon overshadowed by the roaring flames that wreathed his beloved home. Glass beakers exploded from the heat and metal cogs began to glow and melt. Crow fell to his knees, his hopes, his dreams, even his very soul going up in smoke.

***

Darkness. Silence. Crow felt himself floating. No, not quite himself; he couldn’t feel his calloused fingers, worn down from years of tinkering, nor his nervously-tapping feet against the floor. It was like he had become nothing more than a wisp, a soul floating through an endless abyss of nothing. Time passed, though he couldn’t tell how much, and then he noticed a soft light growing in the distance. He willed himself toward it as it grew brighter and closer. He reached out to touch it, his spirit embracing the warmth, when all of a sudden the light whipped itself into a grand flame. Crow cried out–or he would have if he’d had a voice–but the flame did not burn him. Instead, it brought him a sense of comfort and peace. He lost himself in the light, feeling the warmth overtake him as the light burned ever brighter.

Crow opened his eyes, taking in a deep breath. He coughed up dust and soot and blinked the tears from his eyes. His body convulsed, shivering and shuddering like his muscles hadn’t been used in days, maybe even weeks. When at last his vision began to clear, he saw a shrouded figure standing above him, reaching out a hand. Crow blinked lightly, then reached out to take the hand. The stranger helped him up, but before Crow had a chance to speak, the hooded figure vanished in a whirl of flame. Questions clouded Crow’s mind, too many to answer at once. Instead, he focused on what he deemed most important: he needed to see her again.

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