Eons ago, in the days of the first Keepers, a sacred blade was forged, the Rekindled Pyre. Formed from a single feather from Phoenia’s wing, the blade's cutting edge shifted between fiery red, orange and yellow hues. With Ikemba’s own blood drawn with the sacred blade and a piece of Phoenia’s metallic flesh, he crafted the first Crest, blessed by Phoenia’s most trusted shaman in the first Blood Oath. As the ages passed and after many a Blood Oath, the Creed, afraid to lose the blade to the sands of time, created replicas to be used by future Keepers in this most sacred of ceremonies.

Sarah faced the crowd, holding the Rekindled Pyre in her trembling left hand. The long, polished wooden table she stood behind had been engraved in Ikemba and Phoenia’s image: a human warrior encircled by a flying phoenix. Terranis stood beside her on the stage, nodding at her in support.

I hate this part! thought Tabitha as she squeezed Jonathan’s hand with a death grip. She could barely watch what was coming next. 

Sarah took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Did Tim tremble in fear when he had to make his sacrifice? Sarah couldn’t remember too well; she was only eight at the time.

“I give up my blood for this Oath,” she announced, slitting her right palm and letting the blood trickle into the stone bowl in front of her. Tabitha grasped Jonathan’s hand even tighter. He cringed from pain.

Good thing I only have two kids … thought Jonathan gratefully as he patted his wife’s hand.

“I sacrifice my flesh for this oath,” Terranis announced, pinching a small portion of metallic flesh from his left palm and dropping it into the bowl. Unlike Sarah, this procedure was painless for him, and the missing chunk regenerated soon after. As the flesh plunged into the bowl, it began to mix with Sarah's blood. Markus walked up the mosaic stone-tiled steps and retrieved the bowl, bowing towards the Elders before placing it atop a round stone altar at the back of the stage. The Head Elder stepped forward and stirred the contents of the bowl while singing a prayer in a coarse yet refined voice. The furnace to the right of the stage ignited, as though he had sung it to life. Soon, the rest of the Elders joined him in the hymn. As Sarah proceeded off the stage, a middle-aged woman promptly rushed towards her, guiding her to a bench on the side to clean and wrap the wound.

It always amazed the guests how enchanting the hymns were. Although many have attended countless Blood Oaths, the experience was timeless. As the Elders transitioned into another hymn, the Head Blood Elder proceeded to smelt the matter. 

The Head Blood Elder, “The Epilogue,” was one who had renounced his previous identity in his ascension to the role. His was to chronicle the beginning of the gardios’ journey, and simultaneously confront them with the knowledge that it will end as all things end. Watching the Matter melt and the blood boil and evaporate he spoke to the tempo of the ritual, “May thy bond never sever and thou will remain strong.”

When another hymn was completed, the Head Blood Elder delivered the smelted matter to Terranis, who was waiting patiently at the forging table to the left of the stage.

Hmm … Tim really is going to be later than Johnny-boy. Dang it, I lost the bet! thought Markus, shaking his head.

Where is he? Terranis is quick at the forge ... Sarah’s going to recite the Blood Oath soon! thought Jonathan as he peered around the room for some sign of Tim.

“You again?! I don’t know whether to call you lucky or unlucky!” Officer Jones was exasperated but didn’t appear surprised at all. He was helping Tim bandage up his grazed arm, one of the least severe injuries he’d had in the past while. The officer glanced over at the other victims as he scanned Tim’s Creed Crest with his phone.

Jenkins, Haley and Rodney were sitting on the sidewalk away from the alleyway, giving their eyewitness accounts to Officer Moreau. Both Haley and Rodney had abundant holes in their jackets. Officer Burns, the flaming redhead, was providing first aid to Haley’s left leg. It was heavily bruised, and Tim was reminded of his own injury over a week ago.

She’s going to really feel that for a while, thought Tim.

“—plus you got those kids involved again,” said Officer Jones, sighing in disappointment.

“It’s not like I meant to,” Tim replied remorsefully, scratching the back of his head nervously.

Special Unit Umun had arrived during Tim’s fight with Wazp. Their top priority had been to set up the avoidance field so no one could catch a glimpse of the Blood’s rampage. Once Tim had incapacitated Wazp, he was immediately locked up and whisked away before the Retro Records crew could scrutinize him further. Officer Moreau and Officer Burn’s only reply to their questions about the Blood was “I have no idea”.

“Will this take much longer, Jerry?” Tim asked hurriedly. He was beginning to get antsy. “I have to attend my sister’s Oath.”

“Ah, Sarah’s sixteen already? Seems like it was just yesterday when you first became a Keeper,” Officer Jones reminisced.

Officer Moreau brushed past them, carrying Haley and Rodney’s battered jackets and phones. He entered one of the vans and waited for one of the police hounds to jump in before shutting the door.

“Yes. Her Blood Oath is at six.” Tim replied as he tapped his foot on the ground impatiently.

“Sorry, kid,” said Officer Jones as he checked his watch. “It’s six right now. You’re going to be pretty late.”

Tim peered down at his own watch; his eyes widened in horror.

“Dang, I am late!” Oh man! Sarah’s gonna be so upset if I don’t show up! He was about to make a mad dash, but Officer Jones caught him by the collar.

“Ahem, sorry to break it to you, but we’re not done here,” he reminded Tim before pausing briefly in thought. “You know what? Why don’t you handle the memory swipe, and we’ll handle the rest from there.”

“Oh! Right!” Tim breathed a sigh of relief.

Officer Jones pointed over to the Retro Records crew. “They’ve already been scanned. Please erase all of them.” He rapped the van door, and Officer Moreau immediately answered, handing over the jackets and phones. Officer Jones passed them to Tim, who marched over to his co-workers.

“What happened to the holes in my jacket?!” Haley asked. Her monotonous tone could not mask her bewilderment as she inspected her windbreaker. None of the damage inflicted by Wazp’s needles could be found.

“You’re right!” Rodney chimed in as he thoroughly checked his own jacket. “Mine are gone too!”

“H-how is that possible?!” Jenkins asked in shock. He was beginning to feel as though he were an extra in a horror movie, the type who died early on.

“Everyone, I have something very important to tell you,” Tim announced, interrupting their confusion. “If you could gather ‘round me, please?” There was a short silence as everyone stared at him expectantly.

“Go on ...” Haley urged him, waving her hand impatiently.

“Okay, here’s the skinny! The truth is, my injuries aren’t from accidents,” Tim explained.

“We knew that already. Just get to the point!” Haley demanded. He had hoped for a bigger reaction. Tough audience.

Tim motioned for them to move closer and lifted his necklace for them to behold. “This necklace is proof that I’m part of a secret organization.”

“Quit playing us! That’s just the crest from the Blood Oath franchise!” Rodney snapped, not believing him for a second.

“Ah, but that’s just a disguise,” Tim replied.

Jenkins started shaking nervously again. “I-I knew it! Y-you’re i-involved in deep, d-dark, u-underground st-stuff!”

Tim wasn’t impressed. He couldn’t understand why they always concluded that he was the bad guy. Did he really look that sketchy?

“Technically, I’m an undercover cop that stops deep, dark, underground stuff,” he corrected them indignantly, looking at them seriously.

“You’re a cop?” Haley asked, now slightly interested.

“Mmm, of sorts. See that air freshener in the car?” Tim pointed to one of the police cruisers. “It has the same symbol as my crest.” The group turned to look.

“They’re Silver Crests too, so what?!” Rodney replied in disbelief, referring to the Blood Oath fandom.

“Guys, look here.” Tim abruptly instructed them. He was still holding up his Creed Crest. They all turned in time to see him tap his Crest and wave his hand in front of them, leaving them staring in a daze. Having completed the memory swipe, Tim dashed into the next alleyway before they fully regained consciousness.

“Good luck, kid!” Officer Jones shouted after him as he disappeared into the alleyway. “You owe me a report after this!”

Tim frantically rushed through the streets, nearly tripping on multiple occasions. By this time, Sarah and Terranis probably made their sacrifices already, Tim bit his lip, cursing himself for not being there for them.

It was then that he ran into a familiar face, Richard Milsnap, his childhood friend. 

“Hey, Tim! How’s it going?!” Richard greeted him happily.

“Sorry, Ricky, can’t talk! Gotta run!” Tim responded, nearly speaking as fast as Wazp. 

“Catch up with you later then, mate!”

“Will do!” Tim shouted back as his friend faded into the distance.

Surprisingly, even with their extensive history, Tim had never had to swipe his memory as he had never been exposed to the Blood before.