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C rimson could barely hear the devastating roar in her ears as Cobalt violently coughed. She held a cloth napkin to his mouth as the dark blood came up with every wheeze and hack. He was worse than she’d ever seen him before. His tiny figure shivered and quivered with a mighty force that couldn’t mean anything good.

“Come on, Blue.” She whispered, trying to keep her tears at bay. There wasn’t enough time for her to break down when he needed her desperately. “You have to pull through. You’ve survived every other bout. Treat this one like it’s no different, like it’s just another round.”

She stroked his sable hair, a shade given from their mother. She tried to ignore the tremble that ricocheted through her like shaking aftershocks when an earthquake finished destroying everything in sight.

“I’ll be okay.” He mumbled, his lips taking on an azure tint that scared the living daylights out of her. “I always am.”

“I know,” Crimson murmured down at him and pressed a light kiss to his damp forehead. “You’re stronger than you look. You’ll be back on your feet in no time.”

Even if he hardly ever left the bed.

She dared to leave him for a minute, rushing to the small cabinet by the door and rustling through it until she found the hyssop syrup. A tincture, made by a healer for a large sum. One that almost left them out on the streets instead of the Spinning Compass that they called their home. But it was the only thing that seemed to subdue his fevers, to calm his coughs and allow him to sleep without waking during the long hours of the night.

The long hours that she barely got a wink during, because she always watched over him. The bed was large enough for both of them, and when the nights were particularly chilly and the wind howled like wild dogs, she curled up beside him. Tucked him into her arms as she sang soft lullabies to help ease him into a quiet slum instead of focusing on his illnesses that never seemed to cease.

It had always been them, just the two of them.

Ever since their mother gave birth to her brother, Crimson filled both the roles of sister and parent to him. She would do anything in the world even if it meant giving up everything in her life if it meant him surviving. Which was why she fought in the Blades of Blood. The one thing that might kill her if she was ever discovered. It was a risk she was willing to take though, if it meant being able to afford the medicine to take care of Cobalt properly.

Medicine was expensive.

Even down in the Bronze Gate.

Healers charged an arm and a leg, and there were several horrible people in the world that took advantage of the desperate ones who needed it more. Ones who lied about the contents of the vials they sold, ones that were filled with poppycock ingredients that wouldn’t do anything, let alone cure a fever or two.

Crimson quickly learned that lesson.

After she’d purchased a bottle of amber liquid from a self-pronounced healer who claimed he held the remedy to cure any illness, no matter the severity. The vial bankrupted her, leaving her without food for a week but her hopes were like a roaring fire of light and brightness as she tipped her brother’s head back and poured the contents down his throat. He swallowed it easily enough, and for the first two days it seemed to have worked.

Cobalt woke before her on the first day, shaking her awake until she blinked in confusion up at the small boy who seemed to have more energy than he’d ever had in his entire life. He laughed when she bolted upright and took his cherub face in her hands, twisting and turning it over to peer at the healthy glow in his skin.

“Let me go, Crimson!” He giggled and she couldn’t stop kissing every inch of his face as she almost wept with joy. She couldn’t contain her delight as for once, he seemed perfectly healthy.

The cure had worked.

They’d spent the entire day out in the sun, plucking wildflowers by the riverbank and swimming in the deepest parts. Even the fish swam by, tickling their toes with spiked gills and shimmering scales. They found wild strawberries and filled their bellies until they were swollen and even the thought of the ruby fruit made them feel sick. After the sun had set, they made for their apartment and slept until the next day.

He was fine then, as well.

She treated him to a day in the town, showing him around their tiny parcel of peace as he stared in awe at the amount of colours that came through in the summer day. He’d never been outside their door, let alone the Spinning Compass before so it was all a sight unseen for the little boy. When he begged her for a single sweet, Crimson found that she couldn’t deny him that miniscule pleasure. Even if it meant she’d have to go another day without purchasing food.

She was just so happy that he was okay.

But then he wasn’t.

Because Cobalt didn’t wake up the next morning.

At first glance, Crimson assumed he was utterly exhausted from their two, nonstop days of adventure. But then as she’d taken a closer look after another hour passed by and he hadn’t stirred yet, she’d seen the returning signs of his fever. The beads of sweat on his forehead, the pale pallor to his cheeks that were puffy and the sapphire colour of his mouth.

“No!” She scrambled towards him, running her hands up against his freakishly warm skin. He groaned softly and she felt the onslaught of angry tears as she shook. “No, no no ! You were better! You were happy and dancing and playing and swimming!”

He didn’t answer her and she began to sob.

Crimson yanked the blanket up higher on his thin, too frail chest and tucked him in. She made sure there wasn’t an inch of his body to be seen as she stroked his black hair back and dabbed a damp cloth over his face to cool the rising fever that had him twitching.

She found out about her gifts that week, too.

When her stomach growled at her that she needed food, she ignored it. She ignored its whines and calls for four days straight as she tended to her brother. Crimson changed his clothes, washed the previous ones, made dandelion broth and fed it to him with whatever strawberries she could find from the spot on the river bank. She wiped away his sweat and brushed his hair. She held him when he cried and sang him to sleep to the best of her abilities .

But her own needs couldn’t be ignored forever.

Wild strawberries and dandelion soup wouldn’t fill the gnawing ache in her lower abdomen. Not for someone of her age. So she set out into the town, searching for any sign of a soul that would take pity on her and offer her up a morsel. Even if it was a crumb, she was desperate.

One by one, men and women passed her by without a single, sparing glance or a speck of kindness. It was raining that day, because of course it was. It only added to her misery as she stood in the downpour of cold drops. She was drenched to the bone but it didn’t matter.

“Please! Spare a coin or two, for food?” She begged of a gentleman who made for the Silver Gate. He shirked her arm off as she tried to grab him. He cursed her, leaving her behind as he disappeared around the bend.

“Anything would do!” She called to a woman who only wrapped herself tighter in her pink shawl, rushing for the cover of a tavern nearby.

“You’re too pretty to be out on the streets, begging.” A male voice snickered behind her. “I’ll give you a coin.”

“Thank yo-” Crimson flipped around to see her saviour, only to have her gut clench in rife terror as she took in the man. The coin wouldn’t come for free, by the looks of him. He was dressed for someone who could only belong within the Gold Gate. He wore a smoke doublet with rich, golden buttons that ran down his front and a bag embroidered with silver birds that picked at ruby thistles.

“I- I’m not selling anything.” She protested and went to turn away from him, but his gloved fingers latched onto her arm. He whisked her back to him and she could smell the strong cologne that drifted off of him in wafting waves of patchouli and amber .

“I thought you said that you were desperate.” He chuckled down at her. “Desperation is quite a motivator.”

Crimson kicked his knee, succeeding in releasing her from his hard grasp. A crunch sounded and she took a miniscule bit of pride in it as she tore from him.

“You animal ! You belong in the Pits, of all places.” He snarled at her and limped away, leaving her to herself.

The Pits.

She halted her walk down the cobblestone street, back to the apartment as she turned that particular name over in her head. She’d heard of it before, and knew that place.

But where?

Why?

Crimson continued down the street, avoiding the scoffing looks of others who passed her. They snickered at her height and her thinness, even if they weren’t much better off themselves. A life in the Bronze Gates only held so many outcomes for its residents.

She wandered until she found a tavern.

The Bronzed Goblet.

The double doors were held open by metal pins in the ground, welcoming all sorts of life within. But as she peered around the entrance, she saw something strange. All men of life were gathered inside, which was more than odd considering that most people didn’t dare to venture past the Silver Gate. Let alone come into the Bronze Gate.

But there, at the counter, was a man in a velvet top hat and chiffon cravat. He murmured something to the barkeep who grinned and pushed past the counter, beckoning him to follow. He did, only to vanish a couple minutes later and for the woman to return to her post at the bar without him. A second and third followed, disappearing into what seemed like thin air .

Crimson snuck around the corner, fixing herself against the wall to observe some more. Patrons laughed, drank and gambled at round card tables. But throughout the entirety of the night, more and more emptied into some other section of the tavern that escaped her vantage point.

She stole leftover rolls and chunks of meat from abandoned plates, gorging herself on whatever she could find and even going so far as to consume the remainder of ale left in some of the cups. It was far from good, but it was enough to satisfy her craving hunger. She knew she couldn’t remain for too long, because she didn’t want to leave Cobalt alone.

Crimson slunk closer, finding her way to the counter and hiding behind the hunking male that whispered, “Steel cutlass.”

The woman nodded and led him away, as Crimson took up his place and eagerly awaited her turn. When the barkeep returned, without the man, she squinted down at the small female before the counter.

Crimson wasn’t short by any means, taller than most girls in fact. But the counter rose off the floor at least a foot, and the woman was nearing six feet herself. She stood on her toes, leaned in and uttered the same phrase that the previous customer had.

For a second, she wondered if she’d misheard him or gotten the password wrong.

But then the woman pushed off the bar and came around it. She opened her mouth and asked, “Are you one of Roland’s new girls?”

Crimson had no clue who Roland was or what his girls were. But if it got her inside the secret door, to find out whatever was happening below the tavern, then she would do whatever it took. Especially if it meant finding a way to provide a better future for her and her brother .

“Yes.” She answered hastily.

“I swear he hires them younger and younger every year.” The barkeep grumbled but ushered for her to follow. “Just be careful with the extra handsy customers.”

Crimson watched as she led her into another room and opened a panel in the wall that wasn’t there before. The woman gestured for her to enter, so she did.

That’s how she found the Pits, and with it- the Blades of Blood.