2 The Prodigy

Was she texting him again? A small, well-built 17-year-old casually flicked his hand partially open. His watch's holo-display activated and covered most of the fingers on his left hand.

*Are you sure u want to do this?* Yep, it was her.

He replied. *Yeah*, with a soft smile. She was such a worrywart sometimes.

He closed his hand and the holo-display shut off. After gazing out the hotel room window for a moment more, Kyrie stood and placed his hotel key on the desk. As he walked across the room, he pulled up the hood of his soft, midnight-blue hoodie. It was better for him to stay hidden these days.

A sturdy black case a foot and a half taller than the five-foot boy rested against the wall next to the exit of the room. The case had a cross shoulder strap and a handle on it. He slung the strap over his head. It landed on his right shoulder and he grabbed the handle. His smile was nowhere to be found. It was time to go. If he waited any longer, he'd be late.

He maneuvered the case through the hotel door. He quietly made his way down the wooden hallway, past the front desk, and out on to the bustling streets of Laserath. Once outside, he positioned the case so it rested comfortably on his back. This had to go well, it was his last chance.

♢ ♢ ♢

As Kyrie walked down one of the busier streets, he noticed one of the taller buildings had a monitor on it for displaying ads, emergency notifications, and news broadcasts. A news broadcast was being displayed.

Kyrie glanced up at the monitor. And felt his nails bite into his palm at what was being shown. How, how could they?! "They're still showing that!? It's been 3 months!" He just wanted it to stop. He wanted to move on.

A passerby on the street sharply turned and said, "Hey punk! You're being disrespectful to LegendSlayers!" Kids these days just don't understand what LegendSlayers risk to keep people safe.

Shit, so much for staying hidden. Kyrie turned to his left where a much larger man stood. In a more mollified tone with his head crooked and his heart pounding Kyrie said, "So, you're saying I should show a little respect, right?"

The man crossed his arms and responded, "Yeah, that's right. They're the ones who keep punks like you safe." Maybe, just maybe this punk would listen to what he had to say.

Kyrie lowered his hood, he might as well go all in. "Yeah, well… I think continuing to show it is disrespectful to the friends and family of those who died."

The man's arms relaxed in shock. "Why would you say a thing like that? They should be honored and remembered for fighting to save people like us." His arms tightened and his glare sharpened. "Especially, when most of the clan died protecting people like you."

So, the man didn't recognize him. Perhaps, Kyrie had been gone long enough. Or maybe he'd been gone too long. Either way, he couldn't take this. He should walk away. He'd be late, miss his last opportunity, but they were still playing that clip and people thought it was okay. No, they thought it was right.

Kyrie clenched his hands and said, "Would you want a video of how your loved ones died to be shown on the news over and over again!?" He pointed sharply to the monitor and asked, "How is that fair to them!?" in a voice that broke as Kyrie's heart had so long ago.

The man's arms hung loosely at his sides. "I… I hadn't thought of it that way." Poor kid must have lost a lot in that attack. Damned legends.

Kyrie nodded and turned to leave. So many people were killed, and he couldn't do a thing. He paused for a moment and tried to compose himself one careful breath at a time.

"I'm sorry for your loss," the stranger said as he watched the hurting child before him. The child he'd accidentally hurt more.

Kyrie sighed. "If you're truly sorry, then go apologize to the dead." Before he continued down his prior path. A path that led to the destination he'd chosen. A destination that resulted from the first decision Kyrie had made of his own free will. Hopefully, he could still make it to his new school, his new life, on time.

When the stranger glanced mournfully at the news broadcast, he realized the image had changed from the clip showing the tragedy of the now lost city of Avalon. To the picture of a familiar 17-year-old boy with short black hair and a set of longer teal bangs that rested next to his right eye. Both of his eyes were a dark teal and his skin tanned from the sun. The man failed to notice the teal ribbon wrapped around the boy's neck. Underneath the boy's picture was the caption * "The Heroic LegendSlayer Kyrie Say" *.

Damn, that kid really had lost a lot. The stranger turned in the direction Kyrie had taken. "Hey kid! …" He could no longer see Kyrie and had received no response. Still, the man spoke, as if with the futile hope that Kyrie could still hear, "I'm… I… I'll go visit the Crimson memorial." The man turned and left, headed in the opposite direction of Kyrie.