Kylar Knight was forgetting.
A mist obscured the light that touched his eyes with such tender warmth; the visions of his past that played hauntingly within his eyes were shrouded in a fog of ambiguity. All that he had previously felt for his beloved had vanished, falling to the depths of the shadows as she had. His love was simply a devotion of his past, and the joyful emotions that had coursed through his blood as he fought beside her had perished, as had the loyalty he had once felt obliged to give to the clan. The woman the clan had made of the girl he had cherished had taught him to forget the laughs they had shared and the kites which had flown with such beauty between the parted clouds of the heavens so long ago. It was with the whispers in his heart, and the memories he had once valued forgotten, that he had chosen a path to freedom.
He felt not remorse, but peace.
Ribbon-like clouds of shadows roamed the stars as if they were a ship, and the sky was their sea. The shades of gray above and the lands below had drowned within darkness, yet sorrow was not present within the reaches of the night. The serenity that remained was clear within the sweet melody of the night birds' singing, and the wind that brushed by his ears was cool against his skin, caressing his face as a mother would a child. Like he, the world was with stillness and harmony despite the blood that had run deep within the flowing rivers. The time for grieving had passed quickly, during which Kylar had not once felt guilt nor regret. War had come, but it had gone as well; peace prevailed after the gore and betrayal.
Within this peace, Kylar found truth.
Having been only a distant dream before, the reality of of his own bursting potential, his own strength to fight for his freedom, had finally fallen in a position that was attainable. He had let a string of his desire for liberty lead him forward, and with that, he saw his family without its deceitful facade. In truth, the clan was never his home; the clan was simply a force that tried with all of its might to defeat him, but overcome him it had not. With facts separated from lies and the night around him as calm as his heart, Kylar's stroll ceased as he stood with grace amidst the muttering winds.
A figure approached him with civility, the lines that forged the outline blurred and indefinite. The eyes of the man whose face was hidden beneath the hood were darker than the shadows cast over the cloak he wore. A symbol of another clan—a rival to the one he no longer felt tied to, he knew—had been burned within the man's forearm, the symbol of two fanged vampire bats palpable against the pale skin. Kylar felt no fear at the man's presence; he had faith.
It would be a shining light, however far, in the surrounding darkness.
"Knight." The man spoke in a gruff tone, an edge evident within his voice. A nod—curt because Kylar believed it showed heightened respect—of his own followed in response, words too shyly caught in his throat. "You've proven to be of value to our kind, and as we've watched from afar, we know you are in terrible danger if you stay within your clan any longer." Kylar did not nod, but instead, stared expressionless at the man.
"A terrible danger." The echoed words which drifted from his lips were just below a whisper, and it seemed as if the words were only for his own heart to latch onto. "I am not in terrible danger; I am the terrible danger."
It was in that moment that Kylar finally felt for what he had done.
The walls, once fortified and strong against the guilt that tried to tear them down were collapsing as emotions—wild like a pack of roaring tigers—breached them. Regret and remorse flooded his heart as images of the girl he had fallen so deeply in love with flashed within his mind. Her eyes, a vibrant green more beautiful than the very forest beside his parents' home, and her lips, a pink the shade of cotton candy and the scent of luscious strawberries. How could he have been blinded by his own wishes to defeat the clan that he had killed the only girl he had ever loved? How could he have ever let anger control his heart into commanding him to do such a wrongdoing, such a sin?
Kylar's eyelids fluttered to a close as his lips trembled. He had taken a life that hadn't deserved to be taken. Memories of Blythe and himself, younger, but themselves all the same, surged into his mind. He saw the pair, the strongest of friendships between them, baking cookies in his kitchen, and he saw himself and Blythe running through the shoreline of a sandy beach, the sunset beautiful at the horizon only across the ocean's serene waters. These visions brought a tingling sensation of warmth to the glow inside of his heart, and a longing emotion for the past blossomed within him.
The clan hadn't only changed Blythe; it had changed Kylar as well.
He wanted, needed, to get away. He had been in the darkness for too long, and he wanted to bathe within the glowing sunlight once more. A grunt slowed his thoughts; the man spoke again, his words lost within the flurry of Kylar's thoughts. "We offer you an escape, would you choose to accept it."
It was an opportunity that had came into the light. The clan had stripped Kylar of his own life and choices, and they had transformed him into a man who killed the woman he loved. Blythe deserved to not have died in vain; Blythe deserved to be honored and commemorated.
The scent of the ocean was still distinct within the air, and as he dove back into the dark waters in which he only recently released his beloved's body, Kylar forgot to breathe. When his hand touched hers, affectionately caressing the skin, he saw his teeth's mark still visible on her neck. Taking her into his arms as any lover would do their treasured, he lowered his face to hers. His lips touched hers, and while they were cold, he let the warmth of his own breath channel his feelings into her body. He let his love make its final stand as its beauty traveled to her heart of ashes where its spirit would eternally remain. He took in a breath, but this one was soft, and truly, it wasn't for himself. As he turned towards the surface, he ascended towards it, the single thought of taking his love far from the darkness residing within him. Only when he emerged at the water's top, Blythe's body in his hands, did he, for his own heart, breathe freely. The words of compliance on his tongue, he spoke for he knew he would move forward but never would he forget a single memory with or of his immortal love. "I accept."
Kylar Knight vowed to remember.
