The First Penitatas - Resolution
When Sam finally woke up, the first person she saw was Skal.
For the blonde Kyyreni girl the road to recovery was long and difficult. Her wolfish muzzle lost its swelling quite quickly, but it took days for the bruising to fade. Her internal injuries took longer still, many of which left deep psychological scars. Added to her own suffering was the loss of her adoptive father, and the similar, brutal treatment her mother had endured. It would take years for the trauma to fade away, yet even then there would always be a grim splinter within her, stabbing through her heart at unexpected times for most of her life.
Luckily, she had her friend to help her through every hardship. Skal practically lived in the hospital as Kadan was busy, either with the aftermath of a resurgent civil uprising or whatever other tasks had need of an Enforcer-Captain. Whenever he talked to Skal, which was rarely, he talked in vague terms about reforms and "doing right" by Skal. None of that meant much to the boy. Kadan had let him be, but still he felt as though their emotional clash had simply been a temporary pause before the status quo returned.
Still mostly bedridden, Sam was mostly kept busy with her datapad or ebook. It became a tradition that when Skal returned to her following their brief separation that she would ambush him with some random piece of trivia, such as the total miles of optical cable running through The City, or the size of the supermassive black hole in the centre of the galaxy.
"I found out what my name means today," Sam said once Skal had settled on the edge of her bed. "it's short for 'Samantha', which means 'listens to God'."
"Which God?" Skal asked, brushing down his blond fur to try and look more presentable. Sleeping in chairs did little for appearances.
"A Human one, probably," Sam replied as her left hand hovered awkwardly over her right. Skal could see how much she longed to pull the cannula out. It seemed cruel that the only needle left in had to be in such an unpleasant spot. She quickly snapped her attention back to Skal," What does your name mean?" 
The door opened before Skal could confess his ignorance. Kadan strolled in, pleased with himself for a change. "You've gone quiet. What are you plotting?"
"We're just talking!" Skal blurted out, "We're talking about names and what they mean."
Kadan accepted the explanation with a nod, "Well, 'Skal' is derived either from scyll, meaning 'mountain', or sk'rl, meaning 'toothed' or 'jagged'."
"I think 'jagged' suits you," Sam giggled, "makes you sound all tough. What does 'Kadan' mean then?" 
"Blood stained," Kadan replied. "Skal, I know they only just let you back up here, but we need to leave. We have a date with the Arbitrators." 

The Arbitrators were to the Enforcers what Nobles were to common Thralls; a part of the same structure, but with duties and scope so vastly different it was often hard to see the commonalities.
The Order House was much like an Enforcer precinct from the outside, a grim structure designed to be intimidating to the common man. Where the Enforcers carried this bleak minimalism to the inside, the Arbitrators adorned their interior with finery. The floors were dark marble, the walls covered in paintings of ancient Kyyreni who helped shape the High Law, and sculptures or other decorative works stood on plinths wherever a visitor might be compelled to loiter. The message it sent to Skal was clear; these were his betters, and that was not to be forgotten.
Kadan guided the boy to a meeting room in the West quadrant of the building and instructed him to sit. Individuals came and went, Kyyreni of all three species wearing the colours and insignia of Houses and Guilds seemed to have business in the room, but if Kadan knew anything about them he was keeping it to herself. Eventually, an Arbitrator approached the pair. He was a Dawnsider, although that was not immediately obvious due to the extreme nature of his ceremonial costume, an intricate assembly of crimson robes, tan leather and black silk bindings that was clearly impossible to put on without considerable assistance.
"Well I hope you're proud of yourself," the Arbitrator growled at Kadan, his voice muffled by his facial bindings. 
"Nice to see you too, Eval," Kadan replied. 
The Arbitrator began the arduous process of revealing his face, grumbling as he did so, "you know how to use a crisis to your advantage, I'll give you that. Don't think we haven't noticed the Guild prescribing powers to itself! There will be a reckoning for that, Kadan." 
"Just so long as it comes after we've set this matter to right, you can reckon all you like," the Enforcer replied with a dismissive tone, much to the vexation of the robed Arbitrator.
After a pregnant pause, the crimson official stepped towards the busy room and beckoned them to follow. Beyond the door was a low table guarded by a black-furred Nightsider in fatigues and combat armour akin to those of an Enforcer, save that they were crimson and in immaculate condition. He carried a bullpup rifle in a way that spoke of casual violence and a will to enact it. Two thick cables ran from the back of the gun to a body unit at the small of his back, just above the tail. At Eval's approach the guard stood back to make room for the Arbitrator to sit down.
As Skal was led to his appointed seat he became aware of the dozen or so observers along the edges of the room. Spaced between them were tripods for cameras and recording equipment, although the Penitatas could not guess their audience; he had no memory of an arbitration ever being broadcast to the public.
"Today, in accordance with the judgement of the law, we have assembled to make a ruling that shall form the precedent for years to come. After consultation with both the Lord Governor and Noble Tavik, and upon extensive study of laws and rulings dating back hundreds, or at times thousands of years, the Order of the Arbitrators has decreed thus: the Penitatas system is wanting, and has violated the tenets of High Law."
A ripple of whispering began from the onlookers, but Evals silenced it with a thump of the table. Order restored, he continued, "We have two matters of law to resolve here today, both immediately concern the Rejuve Skal before us and, by their comparable circumstances, all Penitatas on Taviksaad. First, Skal, in accordance with the law I hearby decree, effective immediately, that your Penitatas status is revoked and you shall be returned to your former status of Unbound Thrall, with all the duties and obligations of that station."
The grandiose words delivered their meaning well enough to the boy. "I'm free? No-longer a Penitatas?"
"Correct. However!" Arbitrator Eval raised a hand urgently to preempt any reaction from Skal, "it must be made explicit that the removal of Penitatas status does not exonerate you of your crimes. You are guilty of crimes both personal and collective through membership of a criminal organisation, and this demands punishment; the method of your punishment was unlawful, not the act of punishment itself. The moment you leave this room your new, just punishment begins."
While Skal mutely tried to process this announcement, the Arbitrator carried on, explaining how he determined the punishment Skal would now endure. Thirty years in Black Pit, a dungeon buried beneath the wasteland. Thirty years in the cold darkness, deprived of freedom, of rejuvenation technology and even so basic a thing as sunlight. To endure such a place as an adult would be a living hell. To be sent there as a child was a prospect that gripped him by the throat and squeezed the life away. The words flowed over him as white noise as his mind retreated inwards, despairing at the casual cruelty of fate and those who had power over him. 
It took a jab to the arm from Kadan to snap back to reality. Startled, he focused on Eval, who returned the child's frightened stare with a disapproving scowl, "I realise you have no experience of legal process beyond the application of an Enforcer's boot, but I would have thought something as basic as 'pay attention went without saying!" 
"S-sorry!" Skal whimpered, "I just- you can't send me under! You can't! Please!" 
"How ironic, given that was what I was trying to explain to you!" the Arbitrator pointed firmly towards a datapad that had been slipped across the table toward the boy. Speaking as much to the audience as Skal he continued, "the failing of the Penitatas system lies in the compulsory nature of the rejuvenation. Any man or woman may seek rejuvenation, but to honour the faiths and traditions we hold dear it none of us shall be compelled to it. Thus, just as many of our first colonies were settled by convicts who volunteered to be exiled to the stars, so must a Penitatas willingly enter their penance.
"Skal, the contract before you is one that binds you to the Enforcer-Captain. You will serve a cycle of ages five to ten as a slave, put to whatever purpose your master deems fit. At the end of your cycle, you will either be freed or subject to another cycle, and so on until it is judged you have suffered enough for your wrongdoing."
"How is that any different to what I have now?" Skal asked, feeling increasingly annoyed by the whole pointless spectacle. 
"Because your previous sentence lacked the new conditions," Eval replied. He gave a brief glance to Kadan as if confirming he should proceed before reading off his pad, "First, any and all duties asked of you must be those fit for a child of your biological age, or one of no more than one year older. Likewise, your punishments, both earned and 'unearned' will share this restriction. Your master may at any time and for any purpose subject you to the restrictions expected for a child of your biological age as part of your punishment. Finally, no more than one session of 'unearned' discipline shall be enacted per day, and no more than five per week. Do you understand this contract?"
"I think so," Skal answered, convincing no one.
"It means you'll never feel the lash again," Kadan said, "if the contract is broken then you can seek aid from the Guild and be given a new master." 
Skal wanted to say how little faith he had in the Enforcers siding with him over Kadan, but he kept the spiteful comment to himself. Instead he asked, "is this my only choice? Can I ask for something else?" 
"Nothing else will be offered!" Eval retorted, indignant towards Skal's request. 
Kadan, bizarrely, was the voice of calm, "what exactly do you want changed?"
Skal took a deep breath and made the plunge, "I don't want unearned spankings and I don't want to be punished for trying to be good!" 
"Hold on," Kadan cut in, seeing the Arbitrator's patience running out, "Four unearned punishments a week at most, but none of them mandatory - at my discretion you can avoid them. Your other request is something that I'll try to do, but it's not something you can put into law. You won't get anything fairer." 
"What about the promise you made?" Skal asked with a glance towards the audience and their cameras. He gripped his mother's life ring tight and plunged onward, "I want it written into the contract that you have to train me, or teach me skills, or find someone who will! Before my time is up you have to make sure I have a future!" 
"And I want my markings gone!" he snapped, thrusting his free hand forward. "I want them taken off to prove to me you'll honour your promise!"
"This is ludicrous!" Eval barked, but Skal was readying himself for the final blow, one last haymaker to clinch the deal. 
Trembling with fear and adrenaline he practically shouted, "And I only get three unearned spankings, one for each Enforcer my gang killed!"
A surprised silence fell over the proceedings. Skal's defiance had stirred the watchers and angered the Arbitrator, but his last concession had dumbfounded them all.
"Then you accept responsibility for those deaths?" Kadan asked quietly. 
Skal nodded, clutching the ring at his chest so tight his hand began to ache, "I didn't kill them, but I was part of the gang that did. I could have turned them in sooner, or just walked away... But I didn't. I stayed because I was a coward. I deserve to be punished for that." 
The sound of gossip picked up again, but Kadan spoke over it with a loud authoritarian tone, "Arbitrator Eval, if you will give your word that the contract will be amended to adjust the number of unearned punishments per week, the requirement of training or mentorship, and that Skal need not wear the gene-brand, then I will swear my oath to it now."
"So will I," Skal echoed after minor prompting. 
With the look of a man who felt he was the butt of a cruel practical joke, Eval rose from his seat and resettled the lay of his robes. Satisfied, he intoned, "by the authority of the Order, I decree this contract binding and ruling settled. Enforcer, remove this Penitatas from my presence! May he never darken my door again!"
It didn't quite feel like a victory to Skal as he was taken from the room and once more sat outside. He knew, or at least believed that the Arbitrators had to be obeyed once they made a ruling, but it was all too easy to cling to doubt. Kadan seemed content to wait for Eval to emerge once more, greeting the official with a smile that was emphatically rejected. 
"Smirking arse!" Eval spat, "well? How do you plan to celebrate your little spectacle?" 
"I was thinking of visiting the Doll House. Care to join me?" 
Eval shifted instantly from a bitter snarl to uproarious laughter. "You sly bastard! Yes, I will absolutely be there, but wait an hour! When you nail her tail to the floor, you will want to have the perfect nails!"
Satisfied, and with a puzzled Skal trailing him, Kadan started for home. There was still a great deal to do, and he was eager to begin. 

It seemed as though all of Vices had come out to witness the seizure, perhaps out of a sense of collective shame. Most of the crowd were sober, which itself was a miracle, but Skal was surprised to see several Rejuves watching the mass of Enforcers, Arbitrators and their accumulated hangers-on. He himself drew no small amount of interest, at least prior to the main event. The backs of his hands were exposed and itching, though they were now free of the P-shaped mark that signified a rejuvenated criminal. At Kadan's insistence he was shirtless, allowing his scars to be viewed by all. By the murmured words he caught, they evidently showed quite clearly through his young fur. 
Then came the Penitatas of the Doll House. The first drew a collective gasp of shock and anger, which swiftly gave way to a near silent, hateful pressure. What went on behind closed doors was widely known, yet thin on detail. This was the reality, rendered in the highest possible definition. 
The twelve Rejuves, eleven Dawnsider females and a single male, all between the ages of three and six were marched by sympathetic Enforcers to a waiting lock wagon. Each of them were thin, haggard specimens who wore their torments clearly upon their faces. Their glassy eyed, thousand mile stares and hobbled, limping gaits sent shivers down all but the most callous of spines.
Just out of sight of the grim march, Lady Sin and her guards squared off against Kadan, Eval and a female Arbitrator in rich green robes of office. Lady Sin gave a disinterested glance to her confiscated stock, twitched her tail irritably and said, "I expect to be compensated." 
"And you shall, to the tune of twelve hundred coin. For the lot." Kadan purred his offer, savouring the quiet indignity writ across the woman's permanent smirk. 
"You must be joking! That's a poor price for a single slave!" 
The green-robed Arbitrator stepped forward smartly, "it is a perfectly acceptable price, given the atrocious condition of the artefacts delivered." 
She read Lady Sin's puzzlement and continued, "Under the judgement of Mikjalnr, negative three-oh-two Modern Calendar, a slave is judged to be a work of supreme artifice, a remarkable mechanism of the greatest of craftsmanship, and is to be treated with that due reverence and value. As the value of a slave is derived from their potential for manual work, I feel more than confident that any duty asked of them could be achieved by a comparable device of one-hundred tathl value, if not less."
"You are citing some archaic nonsense from nearly two thousand years ago!" Lady Sin snapped, "besides, they don't need to do anything besides lie still. They are flesh sleeves, nothing more."
"Disregarding that the law does not officially recognise sexual activity as a means to value a slave, I am most grateful to you for making that point. A gift, ma'am," Eval offered up a brown paper bag to Lady Sin, who cautiously produced the contents; a black tube with a screwed on lid, comparable in size and shape to a thermos flask.
She unscrewed the lid, revealing to all the purpose of the device." You must be joking." 
"One flesh sleeve," Eval announced proudly, "I also asked for a physical receipt as proof both of purchase and fair valuation of your property.
"Enjoy this while it lasts," Lady Sin growled, allowing the sex toy to drop to the ground. 
Kadan bared his teeth in reply, "I intend to!" He stepped forward quickly, baton drawn, and cracked Lady Sin across the muzzle with such force that she span around a hit the ground on all fours. Her guards froze, pinned to the spot by the warning whine of an energy weapon brought to firing charge. Neither of the brutish men fancied their chances with Arbitrators in the firing line, nevermind whatever arcane arsenal their guard carried.
Kadan stood over the bloodied Lady Sin, slamming his boot into her guts for good measure, "Littering is a crime!" he growled, "pick your shit up. You can spread the word the Guild are cracking down on it today." 
"Not that you'll care tomorrow," Lady Sin hissed back, struggling to her feet and wiping her bloody muzzle. 
"Hard to say. I just enforce the rules," Kadan replied, enjoying the brief moment of retribution her carelessness had bought him. 
Meanwhile, as the last of the sex slaves were helped into the wagon and sent to the Hall, Skal found himself once more the subject of attention. "Is it him?" a child's voice whispered, promoting him to turn towards the crowd where he found two Dawnsiders stood, a pair of blond boys of five and six. The elder of the two had a painful, purple swelling around his left eye.
"You're Skal, aren't you?" the older boy asked.
"We saw you on the broadcast!" the younger chimed in. He clutched at his waistcoat as he spoke, revealing the P symbols clearly. "You were amazing! I mean, wow! You stood up to an Arbitrator! You must have balls the size of planets!" 
Skal chuckled at the eager praise, waving it off as though a Thrall talking back to the physical embodiment of High Law was as trivial as winning a bar fight. "I just asked for what I was promised, that's all."
"How'd you get the scars?" the younger Penny pressed on, pointing energetically at Skal, "I bet they flayed you for trying to stand up to them, right? That's why you were there! Because they couldn't beat you into silence!" 
"Do you want to let him tell you, or do you want to make up your own story?" the elder boy scolded, but he quickly cut in with his own question. "That ring, it's a life ring, isn't it?" 
Skal nodded, gripping the token protectively as he replied, "my mother's. I wear it to remind myself that she wanted me to be something great, something more than a ganger like my father."
The hurt boy rubbed at his bruised eye, "I got this during the riot. Some drunk bastard bottled me for a laugh. When I saw your ring I got to thinking what mine would say... And I don't have anything except maybe 'I was loyal'. That loyalty is what landed me here though, so I'm not sure. It's stupid, but I made this to try and be like you, sort of. I wanted to ask if you were okay with me wearing it..." 
The boy reached into his pocket and drew out a length of ratty string tied into a loop. Hanging off it was a thick ring of cooking foil, as crude a mimicry of Skal's token as could possibly exist.
"I don't understand, what's it supposed to mean?" 
The boy turned away, suddenly sheepish, "I had this dumb idea of wearing it so that, well, if you ever somehow saw me with it... You'd know we heard you, saw you push back. The way you asked for punishment over the dead Es, that was pretty bold too, but it felt right. I mean..." 
"He means we've all done stuff we're not proud of," younger Penny finished, "It doesn't seem fair that I'm someone's property because I hit some shitbag thief too hard, but..."
He let the thought trail away, his inner shame kept private for now. The looks the two boys gave him were strange and new. He'd seen the look before, even wore it himself a few times; it was the face of someone looking to a leader, awaiting and hoping for guidance. 
He held the ring in his open palm, studying it as he spoke, "I wear this for myself, because it was what I needed. It gave me the strength to fight for myself where no-one else would. So... so wear one if it helps you."
The boy grinned. With more reverence than his trash trinket deserved, he slipped the string over his head, a symbol briefly spoiled by snagging it onto his ear. Once in place, he beamed like a soldier with a freshly pinned medal, a grin he wore right up until the moment his owner emerged from the crowd behind him.
"There you are! What are you two doing out here?" the Kyyreni was an angry orange with shadowed eyes, clearly a Daysider but with a strong local accent and a pendant of interlocking rings, a symbol worn by Dawnsiders to honour the binds of family.
"The Doll House got raided," Skal offered up, choosing to speak for them in the hope it might keep them all out of trouble.
"That so?" the man replied, trying to place where he knew the boy from. He shrugged the confusion off quickly, "Alright, back inside now. I like a bit of theatre as much as anyone, but you have chores being neglected."
The younger boy scampered away with no further prompting. The older lad grinned at Skal, made an 'O' shape with his hands and whispered, "Keep up the fight, Skal." Then he was gone, lost in the crowd along with his master and fellow Penitatas. The whole exchange left Skal more than a little puzzled as to what had just happened, so much so that it was almost a relief when Kadan reappeared to take him back to his old life.

By the time they made it home Skal was exhausted. Between there and Vices they had seen and done plenty, not least of all attending to the rescued Penitatas taken from the clutches of Lady Sin. Skal and Kas had helped feed, water and bathe them all, and the normally indifferent Enforcer Guild had even seen fit to provide cots, pillows and blankets in the cells for them. It had been difficult to hear the snippets of their lives they were willing to share, but also heartwarming to see their faces tearful with thanks at having their fates recounted. They were told their new Penitatas contracts would be negotiated with their prospective owners, allowing them to face a justice that might actually be called just. It slipped Skal's mind at the time, but no-one talked about what would happen to any who refused to remain as a Penitatas.
Then there was the visit with Sam, who despite having been crying shortly before their arrival greeted Skal with bounding enthusiasm. She had apparently been told about the broadcast and had caught the key notes, sharing in the view that he had struck some kind of great victory for all Penny kind. She'd also revealed she would be coming home soon, and in a quiet voice tried to tease him with promises of celebratory sex. However, her voice was dead and hollow at the prospect; Skal gently assured her that she had no obligation to offer herself to him, especially given all the hardship she'd endured. That earned him a kiss, possibly the sweetest, tenderest kiss he'd ever known.
Finally, there was home, a place he'd barely seen of late. It had been so long the place felt changed, slightly alien as he walked through towards his bedroom. It was a little early for bed, but the physical and mental toll of the day meant he simply did not care. He was looking forward to relieving himself, maybe a shower if he could keep his eyes open, then the warmth of his bed.
"Skal," Kadan called from behind him, "I hate to do this, but you have a punishment due."
Skal winced at the announcement, turning back towards his master with a pained grimace on his muzzle, "can't it wait until tomorrow?"
Kadan shook his head, "sorry lad, but you're going to have to take them close together this time. One tonight, one in the morning, one the day after. It'll suck for you, but it's what has to be done. You did agree to it."
With a frustrated whine the boy acknowledged that mistake. It had seemed like a good way to get what felt most important at the time, but now his backside was on the line he wished he'd held out for avoiding punishment instead. "Does it have to be a spanking?"
"No, you're going to spend time on the stool instead,"
The Penny boy nodded eagerly. As uncomfortable as the pointed seat of the stool was, on an unspanked backside with his fur grown back, he figured it wouldn't be so bad. "Okay, just let me-"
"I'll let you nothing," Kadan cut in firmly, "In your room and undressed."
"But I need to go!" he whined, but to no avail. With his master forcefully undressing him. With a series of pained whimpers and more squirming than usual, Skal was parked onto the pointed seat and bound securely, with feet raised and his backside pressing down into the triangular studs. "H-how long?" he asked in a pained tone.
"Chin up, be tough," Kadan answered quietly, ignoring the boy's question. The door to the room was closed, leaving Skal with an unpleasant pressure in both his bladder and his rear, both of which were growing. It was made all the worse by the position he was bound in, with his hands pulled tight to his stomach to prevent him from taking the weight with his hands. The side-effect was he was pressing on his own stomach, squeezing the one part of his body that did not want to be squeezed.
"Kadan, please!" Skal wailed as the points dug into his soft backside, drawing the discomfort out to the point of pain, "Please let me go! I'm gonna wet myself!"
Silence answered. Desperate for release, but fearful of the consequences, Skal let out a quiet yelp as a tear leaked from the corner of his eye. He recalled with terrible clarity how Kadan had twice suggested he use the latrine before leaving the Hall of Corrections, both offers Skal had refused. Another example, as if he needed one, of things going badly wrong for him.
If the boy's desperation was deliberate, Kadan couldn't have planned it better. As the digging studs became unbearable, Skal naturally began to shift and squirm, desperately trying to shift the weight onto an untouched area of his rear or simply to give some relief to the most tender, but the shifting and squirming caused the pressure on his insides to shift as well, creating painful jolts and terrifying moments of almost losing his control. He panted and whined, but refrained from crying out again in case doing so would lengthen his torment.
The bedroom door opened at last. The pained Penny let out a desperate gasp as Kadan entered, crying out in a teary voice, "You have to let me up! I can't hold it any longer!"
Kadan knelt down in front of the squirming youth and offered him a bottle. The boy's face reddened, but he couldn't refuse the opportunity given. With a hurt yowl as the built up pressure eased, Skal looked toward the wall in shame as Kadan made sure his stream stayed where it belonged, catching the boy's urine and holding the bottle in place for long enough to be sure the whimpering Penny had nothing else to give. "I'll get rid of this for you, then in a few minutes you can come off the stool."
"Bastard," Skal growled at the wall as Kadan left, only to catch him pause by the stillness of his shadow.
"Alright, since you're enjoying yourself, I'll let you stay longer." the boy winced, hating himself for his stupidity as the door closed once more. At least it's only my rear that hurts, he thought sourly as the steady, dull ache wormed its way through every inch of his tender flesh.
It was a quarter of an hour before Skal was finally given mercy, by which time he was utterly miserable and spent of all strength. With his bindings off the boy was lifted up onto Kadan's chest and held gently, but firmly to mewl and whimper away the lingering discomfort. At least the stool's bite faded quite quickly, even if the humiliation endured long after any evidence of the discipline had worked its way out of his hide. "I picked this so you wouldn't have anything lingering over tomorrow morning. Didn't want to risk any tenderness carrying between punishments."
"Just let me use the latrine before you punish me, please?" Skal's earnest request was mumbled into Kadan's shoulder, to the quiet amusement of the Enforcer.
"And here I thought you liked that kind of thing, after the mess you two made at the Revelry. And no, I will not let you live that down," Kadan replied with a chuckle, enjoying the hot blush that ran across the boy's face. "But there is a real lesson here for you; sometimes, you get caught short, especially in the Guild. Take your pleasures, your rest and your relief where you can, and never assume you'll have time for them later."
"Your teaching method sucks," the boy pouted back half-heartedly, earning a quick, but soft rap on the backside for his trouble. Discipline over, and calmed by mild affection, the warmth and comfort of his master's bed awaited him. He was away before Kadan himself turned in, and this time the boy slept not clutching a pillow, but with one hand tucked beneath his chin and the other clamped firmly on his ring. He gave a comfortable sigh as Kadan settled into the sheets beside him.
"Tomorrow's the first day of a new era," the Enforcer told his sleeping charge. He watched the boy's quiet slumber for a few minutes before turning out the light and holding him close, bringing the comfort of company to the Penny's dreams.

Tonight, Hafn had an audience; Lyy and Tosjig, plus Ros if he could slip away for ten minutes. Tosjig was a semi-regular visitor to the Sinking Light as his masters used him as a messenger, mostly to tell the drunks to sober up and come to work. The Dawnsider boy seemed to like the job; his Guildmates were a jovial sort who teased him a lot, but also kept him sweet with treats and sips of spirit, so much so that he was usually tipsy by the time he stumbled home. Lyy was a much less frequent visitor. She was a Daysider girl, five years old with rust-coloured fur and black striping from neck to tail tip. She came twice a month on average, her master and the owners of the Sinking Light deciding she could 'play' (which meant sit and talk quietly) with one of their two Pennys while her free-spending master emptied his wallet. From what she'd told Hafn, Lyy was kept around as a pet. The only detail she'd ever cared to reveal was a cryptic phrase; "I wish he'd never found out I was ticklish."
Hafn had always fancied himself a story-teller, and his was one worth the telling. The two visiting Pennies sat enraptured with his story, hanging on every word. The first half Tosjig knew already, but all of it was brand new to Lyy who was so hungry for more she couldn't sit still. "So then what?" she squeaked at Hafn, squeezing her tail in anticipation.
"Well, after the courtroom he came to Vices, bringing Enforcers and Arbitrators to take on Lady Sin herself! He had them drag the Pennys out and take them away! Now they're up in the Hall, waiting for their turn before the Arbitrators thanks to him!"
"Tell them about when he met him!" Ros barked eagerly as his duties brought him close enough to listen.
"Right!" Hafn nodded, having reached the part he most wanted to tell. "You should have seen him! Only five, like most of us, but he was like a rock, calm as anything. His back was covered in scars where they'd beaten him worse than anyone can imagine. They were like sword strokes, like someone had decided to cut him in half but couldn't break his back! We, Ros and I, wormed our way to the front of the crowd and wound up right behind him as the last of the girls was taken off. He had the ring, the one you saw in the broadcast, Tosjig? Well get this, it's a life ring!"
"Why would anyone wear a life ring?" Tosjig asked, "they're for the dead."
"Right! Because he was dead!" the Penny narrator announced, giddy with the telling. Even a few of the nearby patrons had dialed down their talk to listen in. "They killed him! He died of his wounds they beat him so bad, but when the Shepherd came for him he said 'no! I refuse to go!' and he came back from the brink! Then he went to the Temple and had them make a life ring for him, to symbolise that the boy he used to be was dead, and this new Skal had to fight back with everything he had!"
"That was before he stood up to the Arbitrator, right?" Lyy asked.
Hafn nodded, "Yeah, obviously. He had the ring at the judgement. But anyway, we asked him why he wore the ring when we saw him, because like you said it was weird, so he told us. But then, get this, he holds the ring up and looks at it, like he can see something we can't. Like he's looking into the veiled place. Then he said, 'The Temple says we are born impure, like unworked iron. Through the trials of our lives we are made worthy, drawn out, heated and tempered. We endure life's hardship so that when we die we will stand before Vorhol again, forged into a work worthy of his eye.' Then he looks right at me..."
The boy paused, lowering his voice and leaning in to his friends, who leaned in to meet him. Every ear at the nearby tables was now craning to listen. "...he said, 'So let them beat me. Let them cut me. Let them burn me. When all is done, and my time is served, they'll have given me a killing edge worthy of a noble's blade, and I will use it to carve my name into legend!' So after that, well, I had to do something. I couldn't just walk away like nothing had changed, so I begged for Danin to get this for me."
He reached into his shirt and pulled out a smooth iron disk hung on a black cord. Not a life ring, but more a flattened coin with a hole punched through. The phrase 'Where Skal leads, I will follow" was succinctly expressed in three tight blocks of runic script on one face, which Hafn read aloud for the benefit of his friends. "On the other side, I got the date he struck the blow, the date a Penny took on High Law and triumphed!"
"How in the Gods names did you get that!" Lyy gasped, clutching it in both hands and running her thumbs over the runes as though she thought they would come off.
"Danin's a good sort," Hafn said, "he got one for Ros as well."
"I wish I could get one," Lyy sighed, releasing the pendant. "Coming here is the only time I'm ever allowed to wear clothes at all!"
Hafn winced in sympathy, but Ros swept back in and caught the girl by surprise from behind. Before anyone could speak, the boy had slipped a black cord over her neck and let the metal coin thud against her breast. Startled, she gave the token the briefest of examinations before shoving it under her shirt. Then, the treasonous icon hidden for now, she span around and gripped Ros in a crushing hug, "Gods, you're amazing!"
"Here," Hafn sighed to Tosjig, offering his own pendant. He would have very much liked to be the one getting a thank you hug from Lyy.
By midnight, Lyy's pendant had been confiscated and the girl had been 'punished' with a tickling she'd have gotten anyway. Tosjig, on the other hand, kept his token secret long enough to pass it on the next day to another Penny, along with his story. The evening after the telling, two Penitatas in a Pollen farm in Wrongside slumped into their bunks to find a pair of metal trinkets under their sheets. Two disks, bearing a date and a slogan, delivered without explanation by a sympathetic colleague who had listened to every word of Hafn's tale. So it spread, hand to hand, mouth to ear, tale and token slipping through the Penitatas of The City.
Though he did not know it yet, the legend of Skal the Reborn had begun.