'Orphans…?
So this Alren doesn't have a family, huh?'
The thought lingered for a moment before he quietly pushed it aside.
'…I guess that's for the better.'
Calming himself, the new Alren quickly took control of the situation. He let confusion show on his face, careful to make it look natural, and asked in a hesitant voice–fishing for information without giving himself away.
"I–I'm an orphan…? Th-then who are you? What's our relationship? And... why are we in a church?"
Cael let out a slow breath, and then begin.
"We're at the Church of the Moon Goddess," he began. "We're roommates here. The church took us in when we had nowhere else to go."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"I've been here almost since birth. You… you were around eight when you first came. You never said where you were from, or anything about your past–but the church still took you in."
At first, Alren was listening carefully.
Then, suddenly his head started hurting crazily.
He gasped, clutching his head as the room seemed to tilt and blur. The ache was sharp and relentless, as if something was forcing its way through his thoughts.
Suddenly, his surroundings changed.
He was running.
Running–hard, desperately...from someone?
A towering castle was behind him...it was almost scary...The moon was shining ominously red. He ran and ran. The next second, everything dissolved into mist. Thick, endless mist.
Then–
He fell.
Before he could stand back to his feet, a woman suddenly appeared through the fog. She had beautiful purple hair, though, her face was unclear, blurred by the mist, but her presence was still really warm.
She reached out and helped him to his feet.
Without speaking, she guided him forward, her hand warm and steady against his. Suddenly there was no more mist...instead he was in–
A town.
Before he could ask her anything–who she was, why she was helping him–her grip loosened.
He turned.
She was gone.
No footsteps. No sound. Just empty air where she had been moments ago.
Confused and frightened, he wandered on until unfamiliar hands found him again.
The church.
They took him in.
The memory blurred, faded, and finally shattered.
Alren staggered, his breath uneven, his heart hammering in his chest.
"Alren!" Cael's voice broke through the haze as he grabbed his arm.
"Brother Alren! Are you okay?"
But Alren barely heard him.
His thoughts were elsewhere, reeling from what he had just seen.
Those memories weren't his.
They didn't belong to the twenty-three-year-old who had woken up in this body.
They belonged to Alren.
As Cael called out to him again, Alren finally forced himself to respond.
"Y-yeah… yeah, I'm fine," he said, steadying his breath. "I think… I think I remember now."
He paused, as if sorting his thoughts.
"I remember being taken in by the church. Yes."
It wasn't a lie.
Not entirely, at least.
'What was this guy running from so desperately…?
And that woman–who was she?'
The questions began in Alren's mind.
For now, the only way he could learn more about the old Alren was through Cael.
So he looked at him again and said pleadingly,
"Can you tell me more… please? Maybe it'll help me remember."
He made sure his voice sounded hopeful.
At first, Cael nodded.
"Yes, of cou–"
He stopped mid-sentence.
His expression shifted, as if something unpleasant had just surfaced in his memory. Slowly, he shook his head.
"N-no, brother… you don't get it," Cael said, his voice dropping. "You've been banished from the church."
The words didn't register at first.
'…Huh?
What is this new–'
Shock began in Alren's mind all at once.
"I–I what?" he stammered.
Banished?
From the only place that he had in this new unknown world
Cael looked almost apologetic...
"What do you mean?" Alren asked carefully.
Cael let out a long sigh.
"Haah… brother. Yesterday–during the Rite of the Silver Vigil, the reanointing of the Lady Moon's Silver Cup was being done as the blessing cycle had ended…" He hesitated, then continued. "Like always, children from various age groups were chosen to take part in the ritual."
Alren's head throbbed faintly as the unfamiliar terms piled up.
'Rite? Blessing cycle?
What is going on here…?'
"R-ritual?" he asked slowly. "You don't mean… like black magic, do you?"
The change in Cael was immediate.
The calm, helpful boy vanished, replaced by something sharp and furious. His eyes hardened, and his voice dropped dangerously low.
"Don't you dare." he said. "Don't say things like that. That's blasphemy against the Goddess."
Alren swallowed.
'Okay. Great.' he thought grimly.
'So people in this world believe in gods very seriously.'
"Ahem.. forgive me, Brother Cael," Alren said carefully. "It seems I don't remember the Moon Goddess… or the rite at all. That's why I'm scared. I might've said something I wasn't meant to. Please forgive me."
Cael's expression softened. Whatever he'd been about to say, he let it go.
"Don't ask for my forgiveness," he said quietly. "Ask the Lady's."
With that, he placed two fingers against his chest and traced an arc–the shape of a crescent moon. His then spoke sounding almost reverent.
"May the Lady's light endure."
For a moment, Alren was speechless.
Then he noticed Cael watching him expectantly.
'Ah. Right. Cultural exchange.'
He copied the gesture as best as he could, touching his chest and awkwardly mimicking the crescent, before repeating the words with as much devotion as he could fake.
"May the Lady's light endure."
Inwardly, he cringed at what he was doing.
'Well at least I am not faking god.'
"Anyways... Brother Cael." Alren said. "You were telling me about the rite?"
Cael studied his face for a moment, as if checking whether he was truly ready to hear it. Then he nodded and began.
"Yes. Well… like usual, some children were chosen to perform the ritual." He began. "As always, a small amount of blood was taken from each participant, and then–"
'Yeah. Definitely black magic.' Alren thought grimly. 'Blood.'
"And then?" he prompted aloud.
Cael hesitated.
"I only heard this part from others," he admitted. "But normally, after the rite, the Lady's Silver Cup–in which the blood of all the participants is gathered–causes the blood to turn silver."
He then swallowed.
"But last time… it turned black."
"And all the participants collapsed," Cael continued quietly. "They fell unconscious on the spot."
'Black blood. Unconscious children.
Yeah… that doesn't sound good at all.'
The more he thought about it, the more uneasy he became. The rite hadn't gone as planned, clearly. And for some reason only children had been allowed to participate.
'Wait… only children?
Could it be that I entered this body during the rite… and caused it to fail?'
The thought sent a chill down his spine.
"Ahem," Alren said, forcing his voice steady. "What was the rite even for? Was it meant to show our devotion to the… Lady?"
Cael shook his head immediately.
"The Lady doesn't need our devotion," he said firmly. "We need the Lady."
His tone grew increasingly reverent as he continued.
"The rite was performed to reanoint the Silver Cup, so that the Lady's divine blessing could continue to be bestowed upon our keep."