All this fire took was a lighter.

My father wasn't the type of archaeologist that should be in the field, he was a first class tried and true bookworm. But he had an obsession. Everyone in the profession gets at least one in their lifetime, it's practically part of the job description. And it'll get you killed if you're not careful. Dad's nearly did.

He wanted the Holy Grail. The same cup that Jesus Christ used at the Last Supper, the one that Joseph used to catch his blood when he was dying on the cross. The Grail was said to have incredible healing powers, even give the holder eternal youth. I can't tell you what got him started on it, maybe the glory, maybe just the satisfaction of having found something no one else could.

I can tell you where it wound up, though. My mother was sick, dying, and she hid her illness from both me and Dad until it was too late. I know Dad always believed he could've saved her if only he'd been able to figure out where the Grail was and get to it in time, but my mother couldn't be saved. It ruined everything between me and him for the next twenty years.

He did, however, find it. Dad's obsession paid off eventually, he just made the mistake of trusting Nazis to help once he figured it all out. They came after me after that, to get me to help finish what they'd started. I tried to save him, and wound up captured right along with him. But if he hadn't hit me over the head with a vase, I might've been able to keep it together long enough to get us out.

After that, we're both tied to chairs back to back, and the Nazis are off and running to get the Grail. So I figure I've got a way for us to get out of this. All Dad has to do is reach in my back pocket, get my lighter, and burn through the ropes. Might've hurt, but at least we wouldn't wind up dead.

He dropped it, set the floor on fire, and turned the whole room into an inferno. We were damn lucky we made it out of that.

Still, the whole trip was the most time we'd spent together actually speaking since my mother died. To this day, I'm actually thankful I had to run all the way to Venice to save him. It brought us closer together. Before I lost him too.

And now, for all that purely accidental work on our relationship, wherever he is, he's laughing at me.

I can't say I blame him.