{Memory core ????/???}

~~~~~{Memory Core ???? Start}~~~~~

When the memory reformed, I stood once again in the pauper’s schoolyard, the cramped, neglected lot behind St. Elrick’s School for the Poor. There was no curling smoke to warn me that this was only a memory. It felt painfully real—too real as everything came back.

The sharp scent of dust and old chalk slithered into my nostrils, dry and abrasive. The sunlight cut across the broken stone yard, glaring so brightly that I had to squint. I could feel the grit on my tongue, the stale taste of yesterday’s bread still lingering at the back of my throat as if I had actually eaten it just hours ago. But I knew it had been years.

Scattered across the yard, boys in dull, patched uniforms stood or huddled in small knots, like dropped leaves caught in a stagnant puddle of time. The cloth of their shirts was worn thin; elbows peeked through frayed sleeves, knees showed under too-short trousers. Their feet shuffled over the cracked stones, raising ghostly wisps of dust that never seemed to settle. The walls of St. Elrick’s loomed over us, damp stone blocks slick with grime and old age. I could almost taste the mold and rotting mortar. Inside, I knew, the classrooms reeked of sweat and candle smoke, where the brothers tried to teach arithmetic and letters to boys too hungry to learn.

This was the day. I knew it too well—the day I failed Candar. But to say I failed him was a kindness, a softening of what I truly did. It wasn’t just failure. It was treachery. Cowardice. Something far worse than neglect. It was the day I sold him out to save my own skin. I had made my choice swiftly, thoughtlessly. Now I was forced to relive it, pinned by the weight of my regret.

Over by the leaning wooden fence—its posts rotted at the base, one threatening to topple if a stiff wind blew—Candar stood with arms crossed over his narrow chest. He was a slight figure, slender shoulders and too-long limbs that made him look perpetually off-balance. His dark hair was cropped close to the skull, and he picked at a frayed bit of his shirt’s hem with nervous, twitching fingers. I remembered how earnest he had been, how he used to smile at small kindnesses, how he once gave me half a crust of bread he’d saved. There was a worry etched into his face now, a tightness around his eyes. He knew the guards had been sniffing around the neighborhood. He suspected trouble. I could see it in the way his eyes darted like trapped birds, never settling, scanning the yard as if he could sense the hunter’s approach.

I wanted to warn him, or at least to run to him. But I was stuck there, transfixed, a spectator in my own memory. I couldn’t change what happened. The guilt coiled around my ribcage, pressing until each breath was shallow and cold. The knowledge of what was about to unfold pressed into me like the tip of a knife.

Then I heard it: the march of boots, a crisp, sharp rhythm on stone. The simple, boyish chatter around me died away as if snuffed out by an invisible hand. The sudden silence was worse than any shout. We all knew what the boots meant—guards, soldiers of the city authority, men who appeared with purpose and left with prisoners. Today, their purpose was Candar. My stomach twisted, sour and knotted, and the taste of bile stung my throat.

Three guards strode into the yard, their uniforms immaculate, their faces hewn from grim stone. They moved like a single organism, each step perfectly in sync, scanning the loose cluster of boys. They knew who they wanted. They’d known since dawn. My heart hammered, rattling against my ribs. I knew what I did. I knew they were there because of the lie I told, the suspicion I planted. Fear clenched my chest. I couldn’t let them see it on my face. I tried to swallow, but my tongue felt dry as parchment.

I was the one who drew their gaze to Candar. It was my whisper in their ears, my desperate attempt to shift blame. The zoo’s destruction, the missing patch of fabric found near the cages, the monstrous accusations—it all fell like a hammer on Candar’s name because I nudged it there. I saw myself in the memory, felt the words spilling from my mouth. “That’s him,” I said, my voice too loud, too eager. “He’s the one with the torn uniform. It has to be him.”

Even then, I wanted to clamp a hand over my mouth, to reel those words back in. But the memory was merciless. I watched, horror blooming fresh, as the guards picked him out from the crowd like wolves singling out a wounded deer. Candar’s eyes widened, and he stiffened. He was trapped, cornered by reality and my betrayal. One guard stepped forward, face impassive, and seized Candar’s wrist. The metallic snap of manacles was like a judge’s gavel cracking against my skull.

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“Candar Thorne,” the guard said, voice flat. “You’re under arrest for destroying the city zoo and for—” The words trailed, but I knew the crime: murder, assassination, chaos. A life twisted into a scapegoat’s hide. He may have been involved, but here I was ratting him out to save my own hide

Candar gasped, voice shaking. “What? No! It wasn’t me!” He stuttered, eyes huge with disbelief. He turned to me, searching my face for a lifeline. “Rod!” he pleaded, my name a desperate gasp. He expected me to stand up, to defend him, to tell the truth. Candar thought we were friends. He thought I was better than this.

My lips wouldn’t move. Shame coursed through me, hot and searing. I knew if I spoke then, I would condemn myself. The guards would find out that cloak was mine, that I was near the zoo that night. I never intended for Candar to be caught like this. I never intended for the noose to tighten around his neck. But I feared the consequences of honesty. I feared the interrogation, the iron bars, the scent of rot in a prison cell. So I said nothing. Not a word.

Around us, the other kids recoiled. They knew better than to intervene. We were all poor, all replaceable, all as powerless as mice before a cat. No one wanted the guards’ attention. And one figure stepped forward out of the crowd, a thin smirk curling across his lips: Erik. He delighted in this, eyes dancing with malicious glee. “Looks like your friend’s done for,” he called, his words dripping with venom. “Bet he squeals all the way to the cells.”

I hated him for it. I hated myself more. Candar’s voice cracked as the guards hauled him toward the gate, kicking up dust in their wake. “Rod!” he cried again, voice raw with betrayal. He twisted his neck, trying to keep me in sight, as if by the force of his gaze alone he could drag the truth out of me. “Tell them it wasn’t me!”

I choked on silence. My heart thrashed. I fixed my eyes on the ground, watching pebbles scatter under the guards’ heavy footsteps. The dust in the air settled on my tongue, bitter and gritty. I knew I could still call out. I could tell the truth. But I didn’t. I did nothing.

Erik laughed again, colder now. “You’re really going to let this happen, Rod?” he taunted, voice curling around my neck like a noose. He knew what I’d done, or at least he suspected I had a hand in it. He thrived on the spectacle of my shame.

The other boys watched, eyes lowered, shoes scraping the stone as they shifted uncomfortably. They wanted no part in this. They wouldn’t risk themselves for Candar, or for me. They knew the world was cruel. They had learned its lessons well: keep your head down, stay silent, survive. In that moment, I saw myself clearly, no better than any of them. Perhaps worse, for I had actively fed the beast that was devouring my friend.

I lifted my gaze at the last possible moment, catching Candar’s eyes as the guards passed through the old iron gate. Those eyes were wet with fury, terror, and heartbreak. His voice echoed in my skull. Then he was gone, dragged beyond the boundary of that dusty yard and into a fate I knew was far bleaker than a night in a cell. They would blame him for the zoo’s destruction, for the monstrous escapees that rampaged through the streets. He would be branded a terrorist. And in my memory, I knew what happened after. He didn’t come back. Later that evening, as the bells tolled, he was hanged in the village square. I remembered the whispers that followed: A murderer caught. Justice done. The guards proud and stern. The crowd uneasy but silent.

The scene around me shattered like thin glass. One moment I had been in the schoolyard, heart thumping with dread; the next I was back in the present, in the damp, dark recesses of the sewers, where I had been reliving that memory through a memory core. My lungs hitched. I realized I had been holding my breath, my chest aching. The weight of guilt was still there, heavier than iron.

I stared down at the memory core in my trembling hand. Its dull surface offered no comfort, no absolution. The distant drip of water echoed through the tunnels. The stink of rot and algae replaced the dusty schoolyard air. Yet the taste of shame remained, bitter and unyielding. Every nerve in my body thrummed with regret, with self-loathing. Candar’s voice still rang in my ears, begging me to save him.

I had failed him, yes—but not just failed. I had sacrificed him on the altar of my own fear. Even after all those years, even across time and distance, I could not escape the weight of what I’d done. It clung to me, a stain I would never scrub clean.

And so I stood there, alone with my guilt in the dark, silent but for the echo of memory. I could not change the past. But I could feel its teeth in my flesh, gnawing at my conscience, reminding me that what I did could not be undone. I had been a coward. I had been complicit. I had let the guards take him, let them hang him, to save myself from scrutiny. The memory dragged me under like a stone tossed into still water, and the ripples of that day still spread through my life, distorting everything that came after.

In the hush of that sewer corridor, I wondered if I would ever find the courage to tell the truth, even then, when it no longer mattered to Candar. Perhaps I owed him that. Perhaps I owed myself that. But in the silence and damp dark, the only answer was the hollow thud of my own heartbeat, and the quiet drip of water onto stone.

~~~~~{Memory Core ??? End}~~~~~