Sidonia: Core & Blade

The dye shops had shuttered before sunset, but the alley still glowed in bruised colors.

Red water crawled between the stones beneath Gaurav’s sandals, thin as blood and twice as cold. Blue stains climbed the brick walls. A strip of yellow cloth snapped overhead where the wind had caught it between two leaning rooftops. Beyond the alley’s far mouth, the Capital lamps burned in orderly rows, guarded and bright.

Gaurav kept to the dark between them.

Fourteen years old, alone in the world, and tired enough that every step felt borrowed, he carried his empty bucket against his hip and watched the border gate at the end of the lane. If he reached the public shelter before the lamps changed, he could claim a corner near the stove. If anyone asked why he had no family, he would lower his eyes. If anyone asked about his core, he would say nothing.

The last test had been inconclusive. So had the one before it. Crystals clouded, needles broke, examiners frowned, and each time the same word followed him out.

Unreadable.

It was safer than weak. Weak boys were pitied. Unreadable boys were forgotten.

Gaurav had learned to prefer forgotten.

A metal bell rang beyond the gate.

He stopped.

The sound came again, lower this time - not from the watchtower, but from beneath the stones.

The dye water shivered around his feet.

Gaurav set down the bucket.

A crack split the alley floor. Red water poured into it, vanishing with a hiss. From the rooftops came a scrape like iron dragged across bone.

He looked up.

Something crouched on the wall above him.

It had the long forelimbs of a hunting cat, but its body was too narrow, its ribs showing beneath black hide. Antler-like branches rose from its skull, wet with green moss. One eye glowed amber. The other was sealed by a pale scar.

A Blood Forest creature.

Gaurav’s hand went to the knife at his belt. The blade was chipped, more useful for cutting rope than fighting anything with teeth.

“Easy,” he whispered.

The creature’s head tilted.

He backed toward the gate. Three steps. Maybe four. The watchmen stood beyond the iron bars, their voices muffled by the evening traffic.

Gaurav raised both hands. “I’m leaving. You can have the alley.”

The creature dropped.

He threw himself sideways.

Claws struck the wall where his chest had been. Bricks burst into red dust. Gaurav hit the ground hard, and pain flashed through his shoulder. The creature spun with impossible speed, its claws carving furrows through the dye-slick stones.

He scrambled up and ran.

The alley narrowed ahead. Two dye carts blocked the center, their wooden wheels wedged against one another. He could climb them, but the creature was already behind him. Its breath rasped like bellows. A hooked claw caught the back of his shirt and tore the fabric from shoulder to waist.

Gaurav stumbled into the carts.

The creature lunged.

He jammed his knife between the cart wheels. The blade snapped. The impact drove him beneath the lower frame as the beast crashed over him. Its claws punched through the wood, missing his face by inches.

Gaurav held still.

A drop of blue dye fell from the cart and struck his cheek. He could hear the creature searching above him, its weight creaking the boards. Its wounded eye leaked a thin yellow fluid onto the stones.

The shelter. The gate. The lamps.

He had been so close.

The creature dragged one claw through the gap. Gaurav pressed himself flat, but the tip caught his ankle. Pain cut cleanly through him. He bit down on a cry.

The claw withdrew.

He looked at the broken knife in his hand. Half a blade remained, jagged and bright.

No core. No strength. No one coming.

Aarush would have known what to do. Aarush, his brother, had been born with limitless talent, the kind that made grown instructors lean forward when he entered a room. Aayush would have split the stones beneath the creature and sent it tumbling into the earth. Gaurav could almost hear his closest friend’s voice, stern and steady, ruler of Earth even if he was nowhere near this alley tonight.

Move.

Gaurav’s fingers tightened around the broken blade.

The creature lifted the cart.

Wood shrieked. Night opened above him.

Gaurav rolled toward the wall as the cart flipped. It crashed down behind him, barrels bursting and dye flooding the alley in red, blue, and black. The creature staggered through the spill, blinded for one precious second.

Gaurav ran toward the gate.

He made it six steps.

The creature struck him from behind.

He hit the stones face-first. His teeth cut his lip. The world became color and noise: dye burning his eyes, claws scraping stone, the gate bell clanging as someone finally noticed.

“Open the gate!” a watchman shouted.

Gaurav pushed himself up.

The creature’s shadow covered him.

A claw descended.

He threw up his arm.

Something inside him answered.

Not his muscles. Not his breath. Something deeper, buried beneath every failed test and every quiet humiliation....