~ Flashback ~

Blumiere's father ran as far and fast as he could, hearing the sounds of his tribe being torn apart by Tippi, too afraid to turn back. Too afraid to face her again.

'YOU'RE THE ONE WHO GAVE HIM THAT SCAR ON HIS EYE! QUIT PRETENDING YOU LOVED HIM! YOU ONLY LOVE YOURSELF! YOU ONLY CARE ABOUT YOURSELF! QUIT PRETENDING YOU CARED ABOUT HIM! YOU DIDN'T! YOU'RE A HORRIBLE FATHER WHO JUST STOOD BY WHILE YOUR TRIBE KILLED HIM! A PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A PERSON IS WHAT YOU ARE!'

Her words echoed over and over in his head, their painful truth eating him alive. He could run from her rage, but not from her words, as they were already spoken. There in his head, they would remain for the rest of his pathetic life, slowly eating him alive from the inside.

He deserved to die back there and he knew it. But he was afraid. Too afraid to let himself get what he deserved. 

Too afraid to do anything. That's all he ever was. Too afraid. Why was he even still running? There was no way he could make up for what had happened. No way to undo what had been done. Life didn't just hand out second chances. His own mind and heart screamed at him, telling him what a horrible person he was. What a horrible person he'd always be.

You can run... but no matter how far you go, you could never escape yourself.

He just continued running until he was far enough to be safe, then he collapsed to his knees and hugged himself, letting a fresh row of bright blue tears fall. His eyes and tears were perhaps the only part of him that still contained that vibrant blue color. Everything else was greyed and dulled. He could look at his hands and see grey.  He brought his hands to his hair, which brushed over the tops of his eyes. Only instead of blue, it was black and dull now.

It was strange how quickly everything he ever knew could change. Now he didn't even know himself. Now he was completely and truly alone, with nothing but regrets filling his mind.

The memories flooded as he saw himself ruin one of Blumiere's beautiful blue eyes per the tribe's request. 

He remembered when they told him what he must do. He remembered dropping to his knees, begging them to let him spare his son. He remembered crying as they dragged him away. He remembered being powerless to do anything.

And now here he was. He held up a hand and tried summoning a small projectile, only for a teeny spark to show. His magic was nearly gone. Timpani must have drained most of it, just as she drained all the color from him.

He knew he couldn't go back. But where would he go? Who would he turn to?

For now... he guessed he'd just move forward. Move forward, and search for something. Though what, he wasn't sure.

For months he wandered hopelessly, too afraid to go back and confront Tippi. Not brave enough to go up to anyone. The rest of the world seemed to do nothing to stop Tippi in her path to darkness, and he alone was powerless against her and the Dark Prognosticus. He knew he could never face her. She'd tear him apart in seconds.

It took what felt like lifetimes, but, eventually, he came across the dimension in between dimensions known as Flipside. He didn't expect anyone to really take notice of him. As far as everyone else knew, the Tribe of Darkness had gone extinct.

He sat down near the edge of town. Defeated, helpless, and hopeless.

He felt like he was just wasting his life away now. No purpose, no meaning, no love. There truly was nothing for him.

And that was when he saw it. 

All his love, hopes, and dreams, limping into town, broken and nearly dead.

There in front of him was Blumiere.

Now, Blumiere's father wasn't in the room when his son was brutally taken away from him, as other members had to drag him away from the scene, but he did hear about what happened. It was rumored that his son was cruelly beaten, then cursed to wander the dimensions until his body died, with no way to track or save him. He was told there was no hope of ever seeing him again.

Yet here he was, his clothes bloodstained, his blue skin much paler than before, covered in cuts. It was like his body was incapable of healing itself, even after all these months.

But to Blumiere's father, the worst thing to see was that monocle covering that scar over his left eye, because that was the scar he had given him. That wasn't from the tribe. It was from him.

Per their request, but it was still from him.

He hated that he did it, and hated how he was able to justify it at the time.

Not anymore.

"BLUMIERE" Blumiere's father shouted, running up to him, when his son suddenly collapsed to the ground, exhausted and nearly dead. "Oh, no no no!" Blumiere's father cried, swiftly sliding to his knees and catching his son, scooping him up in his arms. He checked his child's pulse to find it was faint. His blood was running too low.

He was going to die.

"No, Blu, please. Y-you gotta stay with me," Blumiere's dad begged, voice breaking and lip quivering. "P-Please..."

Blumiere didn't respond.

His father knew he couldn't fix this. He wasn't capable of fixing this.

But maybe someone could. He held his son in his arms and sprinted inside the nearest building, not even bothering to knock. "HELP!" Blumiere's father begged, rushing inside and grabbing everyone's attention. "Please, my son! C-can anyone help him?!"

The entire establishment went silent and turned their eyes over to him.

"Please," He desperately cried. "I-I'll do anything."

"...Why isn't that ancient wearing a hood?" A child questioned, looking at him.

It was uncommon for ancients in the area not to wear their hoods. "Is... is he from the Tribe of Darkness?" A woman whispered, looking at his face. 

"I thought they all died," Another replied, as a bunch of people started talking over each other, speaking about how they believed the Tribe of Darkness had gone extinct. Blumiere's father began to feel a nervous pit in his stomach, as clearly, the tribe did not have a good reputation here. He held his son closer to him as everyone talked around him, asking questions. 

The talking continued, when suddenly an old-looking man calmly raised his hand, silencing everyone.

"I believe I may be able to help," The man stated, making everyone go silent. Blumiere's father quickly turned and looked at him. The guy was wearing a blue cloak, similar to his own red one. However, his hood was up.

The mysterious blue-cloaked man smiled through his yellow eyes a warm, almost comforting smile. Though Blumiere's father couldn't see the smile itself, he could tell it was there. "I believe I can help you," the blue-cloaked man said.

"Oh, thank you," Blumiere's father cried, voice small and desperate. "Oh Jaydes, thank you so much...uh," He trailed off, unsure of what to call the kind soul.

"Merlon," The man chimed. "My name's Merlon."

"Well thank you, Merlon," Blumiere's father breathed with a grateful look in his own eyes while Merlon gently grabbed his arm and led him away from the crowd so he could help Blumiere.

Merlon took a look down at Blumiere and placed a gentle hand on his forehead, wincing slightly at how cold it was.

"His body is way beyond repair..." Merlon muttered. "I see the Tribe of Darkness wasn't kind to him."

"Please," Blumiere's father begged, the expression on his face showing that he was desperate. "I... He's my son. You have to save him. G-give him my body! Give him my blood. I-I'll do anything."

"That's not how it works, my friend," Merlon laughed. "But worry not. I may have another solution."

Merlon then waved his hand over the cut on Blumiere's left eye, frowning slightly through his yellow eyes and looking up at Blumiere's father.

"You did this, didn't you?" Merlon asked, removing the monocle and eyeing the cut. "I can see both a physical and an emotional wound in this scar,"

"....Yes," Blumiere's father admitted. "I... I broke him. I broke him. So please, can you please help me fix him?"

Merlon paused, looking at the other man as if he was pondering the question over, then softly beamed through his eyes. "Of course. Now may I ask what your name may be?"

"Oh. My apologies," Blumiere's father sighed, briefly looking down at his son, then back up at Merlon. 

It wasn't common for tribe members to just give their names to strangers. 

But... this stranger was going to help his son. 

And the tribe was gone. They couldn't hold their rules over his head anymore. So he deemed it alright.

They couldn't control him anymore. Yes, it was a tragedy, but it almost felt freeing.

"........I-I'm Pierre." Blumiere's father breathed, somewhat shocking himself. It felt strange to say that... but so right. "My name... is Pierre."

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Pierre," Merlon chimed, briefly eyeing his red cloak, then gently reaching for the hood and pulling it up and over Pierre's head casting a shadow over his face and only leaving his two bright blue eyes visible. "Here. This will help others not see you as you were, but as you are." Merlon kindly explained.

Blumiere's father nodded, although he felt strange. It was common for most ancients to wear their hoods so their faces were covered, but not Tribe Members. Where he came from, they always had their faces visible to symbolize the fact that you could never hide from the tribe.

Wearing the hood kinda felt like he was being told that it was okay. The tribe couldn't get him anymore. It was like... he was leaving that life behind and starting a new one.

He briefly looked down at his now grey arms.

Starting a new life... as a new person now.

Merlon softly smiled through his eyes at Pierre, then gently took Blumiere from him. "Now let's save your son, my friend."

And just like that, he got it. A second chance. 

A chance to fix what he had broken.

Only this time, he would be the person he always wanted to be.

He smiled...

And he made a promise to himself, to try to never let that smile go.