Project K

Chapter 2 - (Beta phase)

Before Chapter two, a word.

>Kyle may be around 18 years old but he only has 7 years of memory, so yes he tends to act childish as well as mature. As to why that is. We will find out later.

>And when I said before the age of man, I meant before mankind was dominant on Illis, not before their existence.  

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The White Wolf  

Nothing much happened the rest of the night. Philip said that Kyle needed time to process, and Kyle agreed. Too tired to move back to the inn, he accepted his uncle's offer to sleep in his old room. As he reached the door, he jimmied the knob upwards to turn it. Muscle memory.

The room was as he had left it. Although all his belongings were back at the little room he rented at the inn, Kyle kept a few books here that wouldn't fit on his shelf. He was pretty sure no-one had been using the room, but it was clean, the bed made. There were also some of his clothes in the small wardrobe. It was a minor house-keeping charm, but it warmed Kyle's heart that his uncle had kept the invitation open. 

It was after he had sunk under the covers that he allowed the weight of everything that had happened that day to bear down on him. His mind was a mess. He did not think his guardian had any reason to lie to him, and the mark on his hand was testament to that - but there were things that still did not add up. Kyle had been five years old when he'd been marked, but he only had seven years' worth of memory. There was still something that had caused him to lose his memory.

The thought muddied up his mind further. He closed his eyes, trying to calm down. Exhaustion forced him into a restless sleep, and he awoke with echoes of screams. Sighing, he got out of bed. It was almost sunrise, and the sky was dark. Understanding that he could not go back to sleep, he went to wash his face. 

As he left the bedroom, and made his way to the entrance, he saw that the door to Philip's study was still open, and the fire still alight in the grate. Switching directions, he peered in and saw his uncle deep in thought.

"Have you not slept, Uncle? he asked.

Philip turned his gaze to him. He didn't need to reply. Kyle sighed and, walking over to the desk, took the seat in front of him. There was a long silence where his uncle watched Kyle stare at his desk. When he spoke, he surprised Kyle with what he said.

"You are not the cause of your parents' death, Kyle. That guilt is misplaced."

Kyle stared at him. "They gave up their lives for me."

"Perhaps, I truly do not know - but not that night."

"I don't understand."

"The Harbinger did not take their lives that night, Kyle. I returned with you in my arms, thinking that I'll find them dead, but Elazar and Azera survived. And they dared not question it. Why look a gift horse in the mouth?"

For the second time in as many days, Kyle felt utterly confused. All night, he had thought his parents had died as soon as they'd returned.

"Then, what happened to my memories? How did my parents really die?"

Philip sighed. "I do not know, Kyle. I found you after the damage had been done. I've searched for answers all my life, but I cannot see the truth of the matter. I can simply not... see..."

He trailed off, eyes narrowed. Kyle felt a sharp stab of frustration. His uncle had never been this way around him. There was nothing he was not truly aware of. But he felt a strange form of hope and relief - he had not killed his parents. They had not died because he had to live.