Q: What differentiates a squire from a knight?

A: The title and no lordship to follow.

- - -

I was in a dream, and I knew it. It was not my dream, nor did I remember how I appeared here, but I did know what was happening now. The memories—Scar's memories—were rushing at me, surging like a high storm in the great seas.

Images of Scar when he was a child surged in me one after another, bringing passions, sentiments, bitterness into me that were never present before. My heart warmed watching him triumph in a duel. How his siblings looked up to him. I felt proud watching him presented the sword, the very one used as a mere decoration now.

At the age of ‌twelve, Scar proved he was the prodigy the House Emberheart needed, and at the age of fifteen, he was presented with the founding sword. It was not just special because it had the family insignia on it, but because it held great meaning and power behind it. His mother was so proud of him that day.

His mother. As images of Scar and his mother swirled around me, I felt a sudden surge of pain. The majority of them were of sunny days; days they were on a hunt; days when his mother taught him to write despite his tantrums; and days when his mother taught him to dance in order to impress young ladies. But seeing . . . no, feeling such scenes played out in front of me, I felt a deep-rooted ache in my heart. It was like witnessing someone chewing needles, but a hundred times over.

Unknowingly, I began to loathe myself.

Wait, stop. This is Scar, not me. Remembering that, I pulled myself together. Right, I was at the cafeteria, eating, and then I passed out, and here I was.

I looked and found the flames of memory hovering past me, still swirling like a whirlwind. Most of them held a certain emotion embedded in them. There were Scar's greatest moments of happiness and sorrow.

In those memories, I saw him leading his other siblings on the hunt. I saw him, wasting his days drinking. I saw him courting Yasmine even after dozens of failures. I saw him shouting at her dozens of times in breakdown. I saw him laughing in euphoria with his mother, and I saw him crying with defeat before her dead body.

I barely avoided being swayed by those emotional wildfires. Strangely, there was no memory of how she died, I thought. Even in the book, it is not clearly mentioned how Leahlyn—Scar's mother, died, other than the fact that Scar blames himself for it.

A year and a half passed, and all that turned into a scar in his heart.

This was Scar. The embodiment of happiness and sorrow. He was a person who never belittled his accomplishments, and he was a person who always thought he could do better. If something went wrong, he always thought it was his fault, even if it was not. And now that person is me.

I suddenly felt a chill on my back, even though I was surrounded by flames. Can I do better than Scar? I wondered, and the answer came to my head. No, I can't. Well, I could control my emotions better than he could, but not in other areas. Nobody could possibly be Scar. But did that mean I should give up?

No. Giving up was not even an option.

Other than the fact that I did not know what would happen if I failed, I could not give up. I was the chosen one to help conclude the tale, and I would have to see it through. As I thought that, the flames of memory entered my very being. Surprisingly, I did not feel the heat of the flames, though it was not comforting either. The happiness and sorrows of Oscar Emberheart were embedded in me with the flames.

If before I liked him as a character, he’s now more like a brother to me—a brother whose shoes I’m borrowing. Now I could empathise with him strongly.

Meanwhile, it was not just inside; I was burning.

. . .

Even outside, Scar's body was so hot that it could boil eggs. And that was not all. Yeriel, who was beside him, was frightened and still. It had been a couple of hours or more since Oscar passed out, and she, along with Ben, had carried him into the medical ward. Unfortunately, there was hardly anyone present there that had more expertise in healing than her.

With her experience in healing arts and medical science, she could feel something was changing inside Oscar. The flames were certainly burning him, but somehow he was healed as well. She had never seen such a case or even read about it. She sent Ben to call someone with better experience while she tried her abilities.

She could only sigh and shake her head in helplessness, not having any ideas about what to do.

‘Nothing is working,’ she exclaimed, frustrated. So much for her pride in being the best healer among the students.

Oscar's body was literally on fire, which she could both see and feel. His red hair was even brighter than it had been before, like a raging flame. Surges of crimson flames erupted from his body, thoroughly burning the mattress, producing a pungent smell. It was only a step before turning into full-fledged charcoal.

Yeriel put her hand on his forehead and felt the heat. It was so hot that she found herself uncomfortable with it.

Abruptly, the fireplace, where the flame that was currently warming the room, shook. Yeriel stood up instinctively and saw the flame rising from it, moving towards where Oscar's body was. Even the heater was having its heat drawn towards Scar's body.

She felt like stopping it, but she did not know how. Yeriel is an honour student in the arts of healing, yet she had a bewildered expression on her face seeing the scene unfold before her eyes.

Oh, Ishar, she muttered under her breath, withdrawing a couple of steps. She could put off the fire if she wanted, but that might cause some serious problems with whatever transformations Oscar was going through. She could only hope that the healing would be enough to keep him in shape.

Yeriel had seen nothing like this before, but she could tell it was not dangerous for Oscar, who was sleeping soundly. I will stop the fire, if I see anything wrong, she told herself and clasped her palms together, fingers over fingers as smooth air like waves condensed into some mysterious pattern of symbols.

A spell to form water ready to counter the fire if she sees something wrong, though she could not deny that all she was seeing was wrong.

The flame merged with his raging body, and that was not all. The flames in the surrounding rooms also flew towards their room. Even the little oil lanterns were not safe from it. It was as if the flames were summoned by something. It all went towards the unconscious body. Now the mattress was completely burned into black charcoal, and so were Oscar's clothes.

His body rose in the air, and the flames surrounded him in a cocoon, revolving around him, mesmerisingly. His skin was burning, and it was healing at the same time as well. That appeared painful to even look for her, yet Scar did not even let out a squeak.

It went on for a while until the flames faded away, and finally, Oscar seemed to have gained consciousness. His body collapsed with a fit of coughs and heavy gasps.

. . .

When I awoke, I was surrounded by raging flames. A notification informed me it was the awakening of [Purgatory], but I couldn't help but feel a little frightened. The flames did not seem particularly unpleasant. Though it burned a substantial chunk of my flesh, it was far less, considering the sheer number of flames that rushed at me. I did not have time to ponder this as I soon fell to the frigid floor. The oak bed had already turned to pure charcoal and ash.

But that was the last of my problems. I broke into a fit of coughing, with heavy gasping for breath. The fire was consuming all the air near me, making it difficult for me to breathe. Fortunately, the worst is over.

I breathed heavily and calmed my racing heart. The flames were already resolving, and I could finally see clearly.

[Congratulations! You have awakened Purgatory.]

[-Purgatory: (Mastery: E)

Purgatory is the ability to wield flame. It was the power to purify anything and all things. From healing to the overwhelming flame, consuming everything in its path—that is what Purgatory is. It is the best weapon against all sins and evils. Whenever you use the flame to consume evil and sin, you will get more used to this ability and it will become more powerful.]

Even the healing ability was in action at the time, as most of my burned skin healed rapidly in the naked eyes. It was literally like magic, though it could only heal external wounds such as cuts, slashes, burns, or other similar injuries.

It was exactly what I expected, and I was far from being disappointed. The majority of its power has gone unmentioned in the prompt. Simply put, Purgatory was too powerful for me to handle with my current control over spirit energy. Similar scenes of me burning may occur in the future, but I can't help but smile.

Even though the flames are too potent and violent to control right now, what about six months from now? Six months should be enough for me to gain 10% of the power of Purgatory, and with just 10% of that, I could accomplish a lot of things that many people could never achieve in a decade.

As I stood up and was about to give a laugh, that’s when I heard a scream. I looked to find Yeriel, who was screaming in front of me, covering her eyes with her palm.

"You are not wearing anything, stupid," she yelled at me and rushed out of the room.

I found out I was really wearing nothing and became flustered. Even though I was unharmed by the flames and fire, my clothes were not. Then it dawned on me. How would I leave if I didn’t have anything to wear?

"Yeriel, come back," I screamed after her. "No, first get me something to wear. How am I going to leave this place?"

_________________________

Edited by Mysteries.

Proofread by kqwxz.