It was a harrowing, dark and dim day, just like Scott remembered.
He was five years old at the time, yet he still remembered this scene clearly, as more than hundreds of thousands of people gathered to watch the grand execution at Halstrom Palace.
At this moment, his soul watched everything from above, and he saw the traitor's face for himself. With long, curly black hair that extended to his knees, a shaven face that represented cleanliness, even on the day he was going to die, paired with ever-glancing, sinister, hollow eyes and a sly smile on his face, that mocked the crowd that so dearly wished to tear him apart.
Then, the man who was going to execute him, the Steel Emperor, announced his words, proclaiming it to the crowd beneath.
"…This man has betrayed the faith and hope of all living beings. Shattering the trust that the Great Alliance has built with you all. We, as warriors who have fought against the tide for a long time, must NEVER collude with the "Ritualists", who have sought a "dark power", putting the human race at risk for a "false salvation!"
"…Yet, this man, who you see here today, from the balcony of the palace, has done just that, claiming that he will obtain "nigh-infinite" power."
"…He is a fool. A traitor. And, an idiot."
"So, because of his foolishness, I shall swear an oath today."
The Steel Emperor proclaimed with all of his might:
"On my heart and soul, and the heart and souls of all those remaining, I swear, even after our deaths, if the evils have not been warded away, we will rise again and again, as the light and hope for not only the human race but for all living beings!"
The face of the Twilight Emperor twitched, and he looked furious for a moment, just before his head flew off his shoulders, by the Steel Emperor's "Black Greatsword."
And then, the memory shard concluded, melting away like the wax of a candle.
***
Meanwhile, lying on the great branch, Scott's eyes merely fluttered. His breath was audible again, yet, uneven. A bright light coalesced with the abnormalities within him and renewed him entirely.
His hair, which was pale white and lengthy, gradually grew shorter and shorter, and both his facial and bodily features grew chiselled, giving him a similar likeness to that of a precisely sculpted marble statue.
And then, finally, his eyes gained some colour.
It was as if something hidden from him had become unveiled, allowing both his soul and body to become more whole.
However, the large scar visible on his chest had only become more defined and had permanently morphed into his Mark, but this came at the reward of his arm's deformities vanishing.
"…To think that this child has a Mark within him. A God's Grace."
"With such a power, he could become a Saint or comparable to one in the future."
"Someone like that hasn't appeared amongst the Blind God's followers for a thousand years," Michael murmured.
"But, from what I can sense from him, the Vanquisher's Fleshflame has also coalesced within him. I'm not sure if they'd be willing to accept him because of that…"
"Ah, it'll be fine. The value of a Mark far exceeds traditional values." Father Morn said, before slowly walking away.
"Michael, you are an elder disciple of the cathedral, and I have been quite thankful to you for serving this Cathedral for a very long time."
"So, I give you full permission to go along with this fellow, wherever he goes." Father Morn said, chuckling as he left, leaving Michael with his mouth open agape.
"Finally! Oh, I thank you so largely for this chance, Father Morn!" Michael half-yelled, grinning.
"Haha, thank him. He is now your responsibility. Record all the ripples he makes among the lands with your deepest sincerity."
Scott felt like he was falling.
Falling deep into the unfathomable abyss.
He was hit with waves of confusion, yet he also felt… comfort—comfort originating from the anger born and bred in that very moment.
What he had witnessed was a memory. A memory that he could only assume came from before. However, this raised the question:
"Why… What is the true reason why I lost my memory? Who were these Ritualists? And, were these two questions linked somehow?"
He didn't know it, but Scott was losing himself in the depths of his mind, on the verge of falling into deep insanity completely.
However, an individual's embrace rescued him.
A firm embrace, yet the very person who embraced him was anything but that.
It shattered the horrible, current state of his mind with ease, and the one who did so whispered a few words in his ear:
"…Save yourself from this abyss."
"Someone like you shouldn't die in vain. Someone who has been graced by a God…"
"At the end of your journey, you must destroy that "cult". You must find and confront the Ritualists. That is the only way…"
"…You will recover all of your "shards."
***
Scott's eyes fluttered again. His finger twitched oddly, and he unconsciously clenched his fist.
Not long after, Scott awoke with a sudden yawn, and Michael watched him closely. Scott felt renewed and cleansed of his abnormalities. His body was completely different than before, but his mind was a bit different too.
He locked eyes and stared at Michael with a sense of intrigue behind his eyes.
"…It almost seems like you… know who I am?" Michael asked, taken aback by the odd staring.
"…No… no… I… ugh…" Scott stood up and clutched his head. For some reason, he was also very much disorientated.
"I feel… different..." Scott told him, "Smarter… I guess. And… I think… I remember a few more things about myself now."
"Really? Like what?"
"Like… my age," Scott muttered, as he walked around, "I'm 19 years old right now."
Michael stared at him oddly. "You seem confused and overwhelmed... I think you might take a rest, or…?"
Though, he soon noticed Scott's peculiar concentration on something. Scott's eyes were directed at his chest, still dripping blood. For some reason, instead of just being blood-red, his blood now seemed to have taken on a bit of a darker shade.
"It's darker… and making an odd sound…"
"…Huh?"
Scott grazed his chest and inspected the blood on his fingers, it slowly began to look like he was enamoured by what was just his blood.
But then, his blood began to ignite. It bubbled, and then it bubbled more fiercely than before, and ultimately, Scott uttered to Michael:
"What's your name?"
"…Michael."
"…Michael, huh? Then, what was it that the abilities of this Mark were?"
"Well… the Blind God's Mark can allow you to perform alchemy at the most basic level without any tools, and also transmutation…! …Holy shit!"
Scott revealed what had condensed in his palm. A lonesome, crimson flame. Though it wasn't the Vanquisher's Fleshflame, it was very similar to it.
"…I almost can't believe it myself… I succeeded in transmuting my blood into crimson flames in the very first attempt!"
Michael grinned and clapped his hands.
"…So, where do you wanna go?"
Scott shrugged, extinguishing the flame.
"…I don't know. But, according to that strange dream I had, I need to find the "Ritualists". Do you have any idea where they are?"
"Oh, those guys? They have a bunch of places scattered around. I think one of their closest places is near Harpinbale's border near the Yer River. They're just a bunch of religious fanatics, though. Why do you wanna know where they are?"
"…I truly don't know. I guess you can say that I might be somewhat involved with them. And also… they give me a bad feeling."
***
A few hours later, the two of them found themselves outside the Cathedral and by the Garden of Saints, in entirely new clothes.
Scott found the clothes suited the pair of them quite nicely, and they both looked quite like rag-tag warriors or, if you wanted to poke fun, wannabe knights.
"It seems we're gonna have to look for some ways to make some money, since otherwise, we're gonna have to walk the way to the Yer River, and the risk of meeting too many bandits on the way is too high to take."
Scott nodded. "But, where are we gonna find a way to make money? Surely something won't just fall out of the sky for us."
"…I have no clue either. Let's just look around for now."
They went forth, walking through the Garden of Saints, and then, momentarily later, they ended up on "Swan Street", where they admired the gloaming, midnight scenery of the city of Iris. Thankfully, it was almost midnight by then, so they weren't immediately faced with other people shuffling around the streets.
"…What a nice city…" Scott murmured.
Iris, as a major city, was very renowned for its grandiose architecture, but not only that, but also for its history, and most of all, for its symbolism as a "Shrine of Aria".
However, they discovered something strange as they walked down the street.