Chapter 2:
Avalon
On any other day, the walk home would be brisk, routine and uneventful. But today was different. The narrow-winding roads seemed endless as he trudged past the holographic-biometric scanner, its bluish soft glow pulsing briefly before giving a sharp beep, confirming his identity.
Leaving the canopy of the covered gate, he entered the enclave. His brows furrowed as the searing sun rays kissed his skin, forcing a flinch. To make matters worse, the loo — a blistering, dry summer wind infamous across the Indo-Gangetic plain — had been in full swing. And in Jodhpur, it was harsher. That blended with the Thar’s fiery furnace, it felt like treading over molten lava.
This is why I hate attending school in summers! He raised his hands, his sleeves catching the sweat trickling down his face. This world is really governed by buffoons, why can’t they let us finish early?
Shaking off the urge to faint, Sidharth took a deep breath and continued his journey home. He crossed the quivering-augmented zebra crossing, scurrying straight into the residential area.
The street he took had a pulsating blue arrow, projected on it, directing him towards Quarters 520-560. Another arrow on his left, colored red, pointed toward the Gym and the sporting complex. And lastly to the right was the final arrow, pulsating yellow, indicating a faulty projector, this arrow led to the library.
Each colour denoted a path, leading to a particular area within the enclave. This allowed for a smooth flow of traffic.
As Sidharth walked down the snug roadway, illuminated in blue, his amber eyes wandered over the pink-washed building on the edge. Sculpted from the local sandstone, these double-storey structures filled the locality positioned at regular intervals.
Serving as makeshift homes for the officers, these houses were divided into four units, which were then referred to as quarters. Each of them designated a specific number projected on their porch.
Although unassuming at first, each of these homes despite being identical, still represented their owner.
SSE-522, the quarter to Sidhart’s right, bore the same looks as its counterparts, but still had a very different outlook. Foiled in vines and tiny flowers, its balcony was akin to a hanging garden with delicate petals, foreboding hues of scarlet that bloomed despite the heat.
And the one right below it had a covered fence shrouding its grace. But Sidharth could still see the peeking heads of bronze dragons — chiselled by hand — glaring back at him acting as a guardian deity for its residents.
<Warning> The watch flickered to life once more. <Hydration level low! Please drink water now!>
Sidharth let out a long sigh, swiping away the persistent notification. Yet the glowing water drop icon blinked mockingly on the screen. This time it wasn’t letting him go. Filled with reluctance, he reached for his bag, pulling out the blue sipper. As annoying the robotic-chirpy shrill voice was, he knew better than to ignore it — at least not twice. After all, who would do such a thing? A space mercenary?
<Good boy> The watch buzzed chirpily. <I am so proud of you. And just like I always say, drink six glass of water daily and you will do just fine.>
What the hell, lady?! Do you think I am five?
Entering the deep recesses of the enclave, he was embraced with a familiar tranquility. One marred with a faint screech of grinding metal. His eyes darted towards the end of the road, where a few men clad in banyans and slightly ripped khaki trousers carried a heavy looking piece of machinery, mostly for construction, on their shoulders. They were near his house.
Getting closer, he could now dimly hear their muffled whispers, rough and laced with regional dialect. There were words Sidharth couldn’t make out, until he heard one of them say Avalon.
Startled, he turned his gaze towards them, his expression tightening.
Why would someone like them bother with that name? — the thought pierced his mind as his glare intensified. His breathing quickened, each exhale shallower than the last. He broke into a hastened walk as unease settled in. His mind trickled with questions: Why did they utter that name? Was it related to the skirmish? Or was it afternoon gossip? He needed to know.
Yet, before he could have narrowed the distance, a solitary military drone hovered towards the worker, buzzing warning them. Catching the signal, they all scrambled, bolting towards their destination.
“Hey,” Sidharth staggered, catching his breath. “Those workers…What were they talking about?”
<Negative> The drone buzzed, its olive-mono lens flickered as it hovered closer to the young boy. <The subjects in question were completing their assigned tasks. No conversation has been recorded.>
“But I heard them.” Sidharth insisted, wiping sweat from his forehead. “They mentioned something about Avalon.”
For a moment, the drone’s lens flickered again, its pause unnervingly deliberate.
<Negative> The drone repeated, its voice colder this time. <No conversation has been recorded. I apologize for the inconvenience. If you wish for further investigation, kindly contact Col LK Mazumdar>
“But–” Sidharth stammered, his gaze hardening.
<Yes?>
“Nothing,” He waved his hand, forcing a weak smile. “Everything is fine. Thank you for your service.”
<Acknowledged> The drone beeped in an almost cheerful chime before ascending towards the sky, leaving the boy alone.
Now at the end of the road, he was standing under the canopy of archaic trees lumped together. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
No point thinking about it Sid. Focus on your birthday.
Calming himself he stretched out his arms, embracing the coolness the trees brought. Fused with the melodic cacophony of the sparrows and the buzzing of cicadas, Sidharth felt a fleeting elation. For a moment, he even mused the fantasy: these birds and insects singing an ode to him, wishing him happy birthday.
Like they would.
Sidharth chuckled as he took the left turn; his quarter was situated diagonally from the trees. Tucked far from the bustling avenue, his home was cradled near the vibrant flora of the enclave. His street, though pale in comparison to the others, was engraved with bouts of cavities and gravel scattered over it. The holographic blue arrows pulsed faintly, trying to retain their shape. Even the quarter number projection had lost its light and now stood lifeless on the walls. It was a mess.
Yet, Sidharth smiled. For him, this imperfection was perfection. Since the day he moved here, this place has remained the same. Despite the complaints and the countless promises, this street stood untouched. A quiet testament to its enduring neglect.
Much like his beloved city, even this place had lingered itself into the passage of time. Still Sidharth loved it, this was his home, he was finally back.
Walking down the walkway leading to his quarter, he passed his father’s favourite two-decade-old, snow-white SUV: Tata Safari. It was resting under the wooden shed he and his father had built two winters ago.
Every quarter comes with four garages, issued to the presiding officer. The space within them would be usually enough for a single sedan. However, for the Zous it was a different story. They owned two vehicles, thus this shed was incepted.
Built with a foundation of sturdy bamboo and a tin roof, the father-son duo had worked together to erect this marvel. At times, even the lazy elder sister/daughter, Aisha had joined the team, but she would quickly scatter away whining, as she was assigned with the job of carrying heavy equipment.
A fond smile grew on Sidharth’s face as his gaze stayed on the shed for a moment longer. Content, he took the stairs moving towards his home.
His family lived on the upper floor which usually became a furnace during summer. It was annoying, Sidharth would admit, but he didn’t really mind. As long as his loved ones were present there — though his sister had a different opinion.
On the turn before the second flight, he was met with the neighbourhood's adopted stray dog: Ginger. He was sleeping at the interval with his brown fur-body spread across the cool floor. For him it was surely heaven.
“Look at you sleeping, you fat dog,” Sidharth chuckled as he knelt. He wanted to pet him, his hands were stretched about to make contact with his fur when a foreboding voice of his mother echoed through his ears: Don’t you dare touch Ginger. God only knows how many germs he might be carrying!
No harm in petting him once right? It’s not as if Mama will find out.
<Don’t touch Ginger! You might get infected>
“Oh come on!” Sidharth punched his watch.
With this commotion, Ginger, who has been enjoying his afternoon nap, woke up startled. His ears pointed upwards as he dashed down, scared of the abomination of a watch.
“Great, just great.”
Disappointed, sad, heartbroken and angry, Sidharth Zou entered his home.
So much for a great birthday. Can’t you just let me pat Ginger for once Ma?
A/N Its time for Avalon Saturdays!!! New chapter is out and well we have some world building here and there not a lot but ah well hope you guys enjoy the read. Positive and Wholesome stories for the win!
Happy reading!
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