Origin.
The base attribute of every Sentient being in the Universe. The Core of any existence.
Every experience undergone, every unique choice made, every unique memory as a consequence has its beginnings in the origin of an individual.
In the argument of Nature vs Nurture, the origin is the fundamental Nature of every entity.
Regardless of one's ability to perform supernatural feats, possession of magical circuits or other magical abilities, the Origin of an individual reigns supreme.
Origin, the truest form of existence there is.
In the system of Magic and Magecraft, the origin is not simply just a behavioural trait such as Empathy or Diligence. When one is able to utilize any form of Magical energy, the Origin is able to dictate far more.
The Origin is a special stream from the Root connecting to every individual.
The Root, the Akashic Records, the Vortex of Radix as well as a multitude of other names all refer to the same place. The repository of all knowledge in existence, past, present and future.
The Stream of Origin flowing to each individual is a connection to the fabric of reality itself. It is the purpose of each idiosyncratic existence, the defining evidence that every individual is unique, irreplicable.
The awakening of an Origin is something revolutionary to the existence of an individual. An act that changes the very thread of one's fate. The future consequences could very well lead to the destruction of worlds.
The awakening of the Origin of an individual widens the very stream that is the connection to the Root, strengthening the base nature of one's self. Behavioural traits, motivations, each and every decision made in the future is fundamentally affected by the awakening.
It is through this awakening that a person can go beyond their natural potential, discover and utilize new branches of Thaumaturgy(Magecraft) not possible before. This strengthened connection to the very fabric of reality can even allow for the ability to perform unique mysteries unable to be replicated by Magecraft, True miracles almost worthy to be called Magic.
The awakening of the Origin demands utmost caution, for its repercussion spans far and wide, eluding mortal comprehension. The very mortality of a human affected by the awakening.
Intense, scorching heat enveloped the surroundings, rendering it unbearable for any living being. The air was thick with suffocating pressure, akin to the weight of towering mountains pressing down upon his limbs as he moved forward. Each movement he made unleashed torrents of excruciating pain, every nerve in his body screaming out in agony.
Pain was all the boy knew for all that surrounded him was fire, he was inside the world's hottest furnace, every cell in his body melting, losing their structure every second that passed.
Others trapped in this fiery storm cried out, hoping for help that would never arrive. There was no assistance to be given by a nameless stranger, no selfless acts that would give a tiny hope of survival. There was no refuge to be found in this Hell. There were no gods that would reveal themselves to help their faithful. There was nothing but the impending reality of death.
Still the boy persisted, sacrificing a part of himself ever step he took. The cursed flames burning away even at his sense of identity. Did he even remember his own name at this point?
What was it? Shirogo? Ichirou? Shiroma? Or was it Shirou? Was that it? Was it his name? Was that all that remained? Did it even matter at this point?
His lungs were giving out, collapsing more and more every second, the difficulty of breathing getting harder as he gasped for each breath, the air filled with nothing but smoke. He started losing his ability to even stagger forward, moving on all fours. His eyes strained to stay open, and every blink caused increasing pain.
Still he endured, fighting against his instinct to succumb to the darkness he saw with every blink. Drawing closer to the cold embrace of death.
Right as he collapsed, he caught sight of a man in a suit, crying as he desperately scanned the area for survivors. For some reason the man had not succumbed to the flames like many others had. The man had apparent injuries but in contrast to his surroundings, he seemed as though he was at the pinnacle of human vitality.
The man soon spotted Shirou, running over in hopes that he had finally found a survivor. Upon confirming that he had indeed found another living human amidst the chaos, a relieved smile, brighter than any other the boy had ever seen appeared on his face.
It was this scene that would intrigue Shirou in countless other worlds, sparking into an obsession, a desperate need to elicit the same expression on someone else through his actions. In many other worlds, this incident would mark the start of the boy's cursed fate.
Yet in this world, as Shirou observed the smile on the man's face, all he felt was a sense of curiosity. For he had lost too much in the flames thus far, he had detached from the concept of emotions. He longed to understand, to reclaim what he had once knew but lost. He yearned for enlightenment, never wishing to be yet just another unknowing victim.
In the depths of unconsciousness, unaware, a strange phenomenon was occurring to Shirou. A bright golden cloud of light enveloped his unconscious body, spreading evenly throughout. It was an injection of the pure magic, providing a soothing peaceful sensation beyond anything that he had experienced.
The light started to heal every inch of his body. Healing every scratch, every patch of burned skin inflicted by the fire. It pulsed as it moved over the boy, gradually being absorbed into his motionless form. It healed every inch of him, every imperfection. Even an old scar predating the fire was corrected as the cloud of light glided over before entering his body.
The boy was being remade—body, mind and soul. The magic of the mysterious cloud of light hovered over, transforming the boy into something… more.
The light was the manifestation of Avalon, the sheath of Excalibur, the greatest sword that ever was or will be. Its purity unmatched, able to heal any injury and provide protection against every possible force. Fueled by the remnants of its owner's energy, it began to purify the boy's body, inadvertently rewriting parts of the boy, even his Origin and alignment into one that mirrored its own. That would become all that was left of the boy—a wish and an Origin of the Sword.
At least this was the situation in countless other realities, for in this reality, the boy had an Origin that preceded the concept of the King Arthur's Sheath. Thus, no matter the purity and power of Avalon, regardless of the miracles it possessed, it would not be able to completely rewrite the boy's existence.
For Avalon was not truly a physical object, rather it was a materialized conception of an Ideal. Avalon was the physical embodiment of Utopia, a perfect land of dreams. A peaceful land, devoid of conflict and suffering.
This was why the boy retained the one thing that he had possessed ever since his soul came into being: his Origin, his connection to the Root. However, even though he maintained his base existence, inadvertently he had acquired an extra Origin and alignment of Sword. Alongside what had come before, his Origin of Conceptualization.
Avalon had purified him, but in the process, the boy had gained something more. When he awoke, his mind, body, and destiny would be forever altered.
Shirou woke up to a steady beeping and a strong, smell of disinfectant. He was found himself lying on a bed in what seemed to be a hospital room. His mind flashed back to the last thing he remembered, now the only memory he possessed—the fire that he had been in.
The fire had consumed him, left him in agony, most of his body must have been charred from the fire and yet he was without pain as he raised his arms, catching sight of smooth, unblemished skin. It seemed impossible, what he was seeing, yet his expectations were defied. Even if his mind had exaggerated the extent of what he recalled from the incidents, there should have been some signs that he had indeed been in a fire.
Inching himself up on the bed, Shirou examined his body. To his surprise, his skin appeared healthier than ever before. If he had truly been in a fire, he should be seeing some blisters on his skin, failing that, parts of his body should have taken on a shade of red. He felt refreshed, devoid of any pain. He sensed that his physical condition was better than it had ever been.
Was his mind playing tricks on him? Shirou tried to call upon his memories beyond the supposed incident to no avail. Looking around the room, immensely confused, he once again confirmed that he was indeed in a hospital room, meaning he had to be in some sort of accident to warrant being there.
Despite his confusion, as Shirou tried to orientate himself with his surroundings, his eyes beheld an empty gaze, taking in everything he saw with a sense of detachment.
Soon, the sound of approaching footsteps reached his ears, growing louder with each step. He realized that they were heading towards him. Two men clad in white entered into his room, one of them was wearing a coat with a stethoscope around his neck while the other was carrying a clipboard.
"Hello there, I see you have woken up. I am Doctor Ijima, how do you feel?" The doctor, identified as Dr.Ijima, initiated a conversation with Shirou on his condition while his colleague, the man with the clipboard, focused on the display of the machine beside him and jotted down notes.
"It seems that before you were checked in, you were found near the site of the fire." Doctor Ijima explained, pausing before he continued. "It was a terrible incident, and thus far, you are the only survivor to have regained consciousness"
"We haven't had the opportunity to conduct a full examination, but based on our initial assessment, you should be able to be discharged from the hospital today. When you were admitted, you were unconscious, but from what we can observe, it appears to be just a case of smoke inhalation. We will arrange for some tests later on, but there is no need to worry."
"Nurse Doji will return later to do the tests, but for now, we will allow your father to visit you."
The pair proceeded to leave the room, sliding the door open. As they vacated the room, a darkly dressed man entered, contrasting with those who had just left.
The man was clad in a black suit and wore a trench coat over his attire. His hair and eyes matched in their deep black colouring, a common combination in Japan, unlike Shirou's own auburn hair and golden-brown eyes.
His expression was blank, his eyes empty, as if his life had recently been upended, devoid of a purpose of existence. It stood in stark contrast to the expression he had worn when he had rescued Shirou.
Noticing Shirou's gaze, the man shifted his expression to one of neutrality, more befitting to the situation of conversing with a child.
Shirou sensed that despite his lacking memories, this man was not his father, despite what the doctor had said. He expressed his observation plainly.
"You're not my father" Shirou stated matter-of-factly.
The man recoiled slightly, taken aback at the way the conversation had started before responding, "No… I suppose not. But it was the only way to facilitate your registration at the hospital."
"If you could tell me the names of your family members, I will do my best to help you get in touch with them." The man continued.
Shirou scrunched up his face, as if trying to recall the memories he gave up for the purpose of survival. Having failed to conjure up the names of his unknown family members, he responded. "I don't remember them, or anything else, for that matter. The only memory I have is of the fire."
As Shirou engaged in this verbal exchange, he couldn't shake the feeling that this man might hold the answers to both his peculiar awakening and the recent incident...
"Hmm…" The man responded. He frowned, his weathered face proceeded to show a slight change in his expression, a flicker of an emotion that vanished as soon as Shirou blinked.
"Well then, as far as I know, there were no survivors with a similar appearance to you among those who have been found after the fire... Shirou, I hear that's your name. Would you prefer to go with a stranger you've just met rather than going to the orphanage?"
"I must first tell you, in the spirit of being forthright, my name is Kiritsugu Emiya. I am a Magus, an individual that performs Magecraft. Would you like to be adopted?"
Authors Notes:
Discovered this again and decided to do a rewrite. So here's the gist of the story. Shirou gives up more in order to survive the cursed flames as a result of the destruction of the grail.
Canon Shirou doesn't lose his memories which is the reason he wanted to learn magecraft in the first place, wanting to gain some control over his life due to the fear from the fire and what he has lost.
Avalon canonically rewrites his Origin and alignment to sword. As there are parallel world's within the nasuverse canon, there are some realities in which Shirou has different original Origins. Some Origins can't be rewritten, even by the influence of Avalon. Origins such as nothingness(Shiki Ryougi)Can't rewrite nothing after all.
Same idea here but the influence of Avalon still gives him the Origin and alignment of sword. Due to losing his memories, Shirou is more of a blank slate and thus heavily influenced by his Origin. This is basically where the story branches out from.