The Outer City never slept. Generators coughed black smoke into the sky, their steady rumble shaking the metal walls of the slums. Rusted pipes leaked steam into alleys, and wires sparked overhead where half-broken lamps buzzed against the rain. This was life beyond the Bastion's inner walls. Factory workers, scavengers, gangs, and the forgotten poor packed shoulder to shoulder.
Kaelrich Veyrmann had grown up in this mess. He turned sixteen today, though birthdays didn't mean much here. Just another ordinary day of smoke and grime.
Except tonight wasn't ordinary.
---
He lay in a narrow alley, soaked in rainwater and filth. His chest heaved like a broken machine, each breath shorter than the last. Heat built under his skin, crawling through his veins. Something had begun.
Kael knew what was happening. Everyone in the slums did. People collapsed in alleys like this every week. Sometimes they twitched and screamed for hours before going still. Sometimes their bodies just came apart. Only rarely did someone survive. Those in the Inner City had healers and mentors to guide them. Here, you have only lady luck, and even she does not care to bless them.
And Kael was never an exception.
He clenched his teeth, fighting the rising panic. His body arched, his back scraping the concrete. His vision blurred. The sound of rain was deafening, like it was pounding directly against his skull.
So this is it. We had a good run.
His thoughts spiralled. Faces flashed across his mind: the younger kids at the orphanage, The old man scolding him for being late, the fading memories of his parents' faces. He hadn't said goodbye, the world didn't give him the chance.
A raw scream tore from his throat. Light seared under his flesh, racing like molten wires across his body. It felt like being torn apart and stitched together at the same time. He slammed his fist into the ground, gasping. His blood felt like it was boiling.
Something flared on his neck. He felt a burn running itself into the bone. His breath broke. The world went white.
Minutes passed. Or hours. He couldn't tell. The pain blurred everything.
But then…
Silence.
The pain cuts off in an fashion of absolute. Like someone had ripped the fire out of him mid-breath.
Kael's body hit the ground with a thud. He lay there, gasping, his mind hasn't recovered, he thought there was another wave of pain to be, but it never came.
Rain tapped against metal nearby. His own heartbeat filled the quiet.
Slowly, he pushed himself up on shaking arms. His skin was slick with sweat and rain, but not blood. He looked down, no wounds, no light, nothing except the faint glow still throbbing at his neck.
That was new.
A small rain pond next to him reflected a small tattoo of a full moon, sending the blue ray it emits back to the sky.
He ran his fingers over it. The skin there was hot, raised like a scar. The glow pulsed once beneath his touch, then dimmed.
For a moment he thought something might happen, that he'd feel different, stronger, anything. But there was nothing. Just the ache.
But this doesn't make sense at all. Awakening always leave one either dead, or reborn. I don't feel like either.
Kael exhaled hard, a weak sound half-way between a laugh and a cough. The alley smelled like rust and old rain. Steam curled from vents above, painting the walls in grey.
He stayed sitting for a long while, head against the brick, letting the rain wash the sweat from his face. His body was shaking.
When he could stand, he did. Every step felt uncertain, like his legs weren't sure if they remembered how to work.
The light on his neck flickered one last time before fading to a dull mark.
He pushed a hand through his soaking black hair, wiping dark eyes that were painted red by his exhaustion.
He was an exception in the end, Lady Luck had adored him, just wasn't in the way he wanted nor expected.
---
Kael's legs felt like wet sand. He pulled his hood over his head and started walking, one step at a time, until the alley opened into the wider street. The rain had thinned to a mist that clung to everything, catching the weak glow of half-dead lamps.
He wants to head home, he needs some answers, he's sure the old man could explain his condition.
But despite all those worrying thoughts, he still can't help it from putting on a thin smile.
Still, it's unbelievable, more than a miracle even, not one kid had survived this process in years.
He still made it in the end, and he felt grateful to just be alive.
---
His boots crunched on the wet pavement as he made his way toward the market square. Just earlier in the day, he had been here for a very different reason. Today was his sixteenth birthday, the day the council would force him from the orphanage. He had been trying to steal food, a final supply before he was on his own. The sharp pain in his chest had sent him running, knowing he was about to awaken, and he'd found a remote alley to get through it alone. Now, he was back in the same square
It was a sprawling mess of narrow lanes crammed with shacks built from scavenged metal and broken wood. Large, rusted factory towers loomed in the distance, their chimneys coughing out endless smoke. Shouting vendors screamed over each other selling watered-down stew and half-rotten bread. Kids darted through puddles, barefoot, laughing as if hunger was just a game.
Further down, a group of men were gathered around a broken lamp post, gambling with bottle caps. Their laughter was hoarse but real, the kind that came from people who'd stopped caring how bad things looked.
"Double or nothing!" one of them barked. Another shouted back, "You've been saying that since last week!"
Kael walked by them without slowing. One of them gave him a look, the kind that weighed strangers by how much they could steal from them, then lost interest.
As Kael moved the square, he approached a familiar stand which appears to be selling clothing.
"Hey Ted," he asked. "Selling anything dry?"
The stall owner was a jolly looking man, chubby and middle aged. Kael knew him as Mr Ted, as far as he knows, no one had been able to find out his first name.
"Kael! You look like a drowned cat, boy!" Ted barked a laugh, waving him closer. "What'd you do, wrestle the rain and lose?"
Kael glanced down at himself, dripping sleeves, muddy trousers, hair plastered to his forehead. "Something like that."
Ted chuckled again, rummaging through a pile of folded clothes stacked behind him. "You're in luck, I have just what you need!"
He pulled out a dark, coat, a shirt that looked only moderately used, and pair of normal, black trousers. Kael wasn't picky.
"How much?" he asked.
"Five silver," Ted said cheerfully, like he'd just offered a blessing.
"Five silver! Are you mad?" Kael was not happy with this offer, 5 silver was way too much, a full set of cloths should at most cost 3 silver.
"It's the last in stock Kael! Take it or leave it! I'll have you know, Connor isn't back until next month!" His grin didn't change, he effectively has a monopoly in this district right now, Mr Connor was the only other clothing stall owner here, and he's off visiting a friend. The next stall would be a few hours away.
"Three and a quarter silver." Kael gritted his teeth. Holding the coins onto Ted's desk.
Ted crossed his arms, pretending to think, then leaned forward with mock gravity. "Make it three and three quarters and I'll even pretend you don't smell like wet metal."
Kael stared at him for a moment, then slapped the coins onto the counter. "Deal."
"Pleasure doing business!" Ted said, radiant as ever, sweeping the coins away before Kael could change his mind.
Kael took the clothes, stepping under the awning of the next stall. The shirt was rough but dry, and the coat's lining still held some warmth. He changed quickly, wringing out his old shirt before stuffing it into his bag.
When he stepped back out, Ted whistled. "Now there's a fine young man! Almost looks respectable."
"Almost," Kael muttered.
"Well, have a nice day!" Ted waved him goodbye.
Kael adjusted his collar and walked away from the stall in silence, still in disbelief he took that deal. He would have never bought it if his clothes were completely unwearable.
Kael cursed quietly, "That bloody fraud."
He began heading back to the orphanage.