The First Penitatas: The Fallout
After what felt like an eternity, the Penitatas of Class 1 were slowly making their way back to school. Skal was early; so early, in fact, that he'd been forced to stand in the cold for ten minutes until the teacher arrived to unlock the building. He and Alif were ushered inside, but Skal chose to loiter in the hall rather than go straight in. Udum didn't ask why, and told Alif to help set up the classroom while he attended to other matters. Skal closed his eyes and counted under his breath, trying to untangle the knot in his gut. The idea of seeing Sam's empty seat burned inside him, and the last thing he wanted was to make a scene.
It wasn't long before more students began to appear, and two in particular were hard to miss. Their dyed fur was fading now, but it was still far from back to its true blond hue. Hafn and Ros both called out their greetings as they hurried over, happy and smiling as though they welcomed being back under the pacing attention of their Nightsider teacher. "Good to see you two," Skal said pleasantly, feeling better now that he had friends with him.
"You too," Hafn answered, but with a hint of hesitation. The boy's subtle glancing about told Skal exactly what he wanted to ask.
"No, Sam's not here," he sighed. "Kadan said that she's being taken care of, but I don't know anything. She's not being charged with assassination, or so he said, but she has to stay somewhere safe for now."
"That sucks," Ros replied. Hafn merely gave a bitter growl. "But hey, cheer up! She'll be back before you know it, now that the assassin's been caught!"
Hafn snorted at Ros' positive attitude. "Yeah, but what about his mates? They're still roaming the street!"
"Let's just go inside," Skal cut in quickly, sensing the bitterness in Hafn's voice, and growing concerned that his raised tone might cause a teacher to pay attention - an unlucky child from Class 2 had been 'too energetic' not long before they broke up for the holiday, and found themselves thoroughly spanked by Udum before being sent to their own teacher, likely for a reminder.
The room was much as the trio remembered, save that none of the desks were in their proper places. Alif was struggling to form up the proper horseshoe, and the squeak of the rubber-footed desks as they were dragged about made the boys wince. "Hey, little help?" the Daysider called out.
"Sure," Hafn replied with a snark. "What do you need? Desks? Chairs? Rope for the nooses?"
Alif's brow furrowed, while the other two in Hafn's group both gave him sidelong glances. "What are you talking about?"
Hafn bared his daggered teeth at his classmate. "You know what I'm talking about. Ros and I were almost lynched! How come we nearly die, how come Dawnsiders and Nightsiders get the crap kicked out of them, but your kind doesn't get touched? Answer me that!"
Skal stepped forward quickly to put himself in Hafn's way. With a paw pressed to his friends chest he said firmly, "Ros and I are going to help set up the classroom. You don't have to help if you don't want to." Without waiting for an acknowledgement, Skal turned to Ros, nodded his head toward Alif, and the pair set to work. Hafn, sulking, prowled about the room with his arms folded. All three working boys glanced toward him whenever they drew close, and with his attention elsewhere he seemed sullen, yet that turned to fury whenever he caught the Daysider's eye.
At last, with the desks half-done, Alif's patience wore out and he marched towards his scowling classmate. "You have something you want to say?" he snapped.
A low growl answered him. Hafn's upper lip trembled as his posture shifted to a more aggressive stance. "Yeah, I do. I am sick of your kind! Why can't we go five days without a Daysider trying to rob us, rape us or kill us? What is so hard about not being a fucking animal?" and with that he shoved Alif hard. The boy recovered quickly, but by then other members of the class had begun to arrive, and a few Pennys from Class 2 were watching through the door.
"Do that again," the Daysider growled, stepping back into Hafn's face. His paws were curled for scratching, and like Hafn, he had subtly shifted stance to better brace for a fight. With a grunt, Hafn shoved Alif once more, harder this time, and the Daysider bounced back immediately as a dozen voices cried out in excitement and alarm.
It wasn't a clean fight. There was no style or strategy to it, just two boys grappling, scratching and biting. Punches and kicks were thrown blindly as they banged against desks, swaying around in a struggle for supremacy. All the while, voices around them broke out in the ancient, primal chant of playground scuffles everywhere; "Fight! Fight! Fight!" The hue and cry died swiftly as the pair broke apart, having given each other a few red marks about the arms and face, and split a few seams on one-another's clothing. Alif was the one who finished with a view to the door, and so his battle-lust bled away first. Hafn, seeing the horror in his opponent's face, turned to find Udum staring down at him.
"Are we quite finished, boys?" the Nightsider asked. His voice was millpond calm, yet that served only to heighten the anxiety both boys felt. Seeing the skirmish was over, Udum paced towards his desk, tutting lightly. "My, my, my. Fighting on the first day back? That will not do. That will not do at all. A test of honesty for all present; who started the fight?"
Both boys looked about at the scattered, scared faces of their fellows, each of them wondering whether the group would side with them. Alif broke his silence first. "I threw the first punch, master."
Udum nodded, "yes, I saw. Hafn? Have you anything to say?!
"I started it," Hafn told the floor, unable to raise his head at all under the scrutiny of his teacher.
"Yes you did," Udum agreed. "You antagonised him, perhaps in the hope that I would thrash him for throwing the first punch. Rest assured, I will not suffer such base manipulation in my classroom. You were hit because you deserved to be hit - the only fault was that the blows should be delivered not by a child's fist, but by my hand. Class! Put the desks in their proper order and take your seats. Hafn, you will sit for now; Ros, come forward to my desk."
Ros gave a sharp gasp at hearing his name, "B-but I didn't do anything!" he protested.
"Quite right, but you are Hafn's friend and confidant. The boy must learn that when he behaves poorly, it reflects poorly on all of you, and you especially. Perhaps seeing you suffer for his mistakes will help this lesson stick in the mind. Stand before my desk, Ros. Shorts around your ankles, if you please."
As Ros took up position, whimpering softly in fear of what was to come, Udum fetched a piece of lined paper and a pen from his desk and presented them to Hafn. "You will write out the following: 'My actions have consequences for those around me.' You will write this ten times. When you are done, I shall judge your work and, should I find it unacceptable, you will be made to repeat the exercise. Write neatly, precisely, and swiftly. You will begin when I say and not before." The instructions given, Udum walked calmly to where Ros was waiting and hoisted the boy onto the desk. A soft leather strap was put around his tail to hold it in place, and the dreaded ruler was readied for work. "Begin!" he called, and at once brought the ruler down hard on Ros' rear.
The pink-furred Penny jolted at the blow, but remained quiet until, a few seconds later, the second blow smacked squarely where the first had landed. This drew a desperate yelp from the boy, whose behaviour was normally good enough to avoid such trashings, and by the third he was loudly yelping and squirming. His failure to keep still seemed to displease his teacher, who adjusted the grip on the ruler and brought it down again. This time the long, broad ache was replaced by a thinner, sharper smack that caused Ros to throw back his head and howl tearfully, "No-o-o! Ple-e-owowow!"
"If you'd rather receive the broad strokes, I suggest you keep still!" Udum scolded, not once breaking pace. One ruler stroke after another, all layered firmly at the base of his tail. After ten such strokes, Udum seemingly grew bored of that particular part of Ros' rear and aimed much lower, swatting hard at the soft flesh where rear and leg met, drawing a fresh, and far more urgent set of howls from Ros.
The teary-eyed boy tried to crane toward his friend, squirming to look at Hafn as he hunched over his writing. "Ha-fn! Hurry-y-y p-please!" Ros wailed, legs twitching at every swift, snapping impact. Hafn's head did not move, but his brow remained creased in effort as his pen-hand moved, it seemed to Ros, with cruel slowness.
After close to five minutes of unceasingly swatting, Hafn's head and hand shot up into the air. "Finished! I'm finished!" he cried urgently, just before Udum delivered the final swat. The teacher carefully placed the ruler down, whispered for Ros not to move, and came to inspect Hafn's work.
"Why, Hafn, this is a surprise. Ros, your friend has spared your backside. You may go and lie down at the back of the room if you wish. Hafn, to my desk!" Both boys moved sluggishly, albeit for very different reasons, and neither one looked at the other as Hafn's own pants were removed and his rear put on display for all to see. "First, we shall start by giving you the same punishment you made Ros endure. Then, once your backside is properly warmed up, your true punishment will begin. Ah, but first, a little something more is required."
The 'something more' turned out to be a defolicator. Swiftly passed over Hafn's green-dyed backside, the Penitatas was soon displaying two pale pink globes to his classmates. Such a sight would normally have drawn giggles, especially from the girls, but there was only morbid silence as Udum left Hafn in place and went to a storage cupboard at the back of the room to fetch the 'true punishment'. This he placed out of Hafn's line of sight, but in full view of everyone else. "The ruler first," he said, and brought the measuring tool down briskly on Hafn's pale rump. The boy jumped at the impact, and while his fur offered little in the way of padding, he regretted losing it at once. As with Ros, the strokes were aimed high at the tail base, and it took only two before a clear, red line began to form. Four left the boy yelping and whining for mercy, but such cries only caused Udum to twist the ruler for a more biting stroke.
Ten strokes delivered, Hafn only had a brief moment to grow accustomed to the sting before the ruler returned. "Ah! N-o! Please no mo-ore!" he yelped out, despite knowing it would do no good. Udum's pace was steady, a metronome against the boy's soft skin - Thwak! Thwak! Thwak! - each blow delivered a few seconds apart with mechanical precision, no matter how much Hafn bawled or squirmed. He'd made Ros suffer for five minutes, and five minutes was what he got. The only difference came at the end, when the final minute was returned to his tail base to 'even out the stripes', his teacher said.
With the time served, Udum allowed himself and the class to admire the hot, red stripes measured out at the top and bottom of Hafn's rump. Then, with care, the Nightsider took up his next instrument. It was a paddle, made with holes in its face to encourage blistering. The terrible instrument made a heavy whoosh as it was brought upon Hafn's bald backside without warning, and the Penny's head snapped up sharply at the blow. He froze, back arched and mouth open as if frozen before, after a few moments delay, he began to howl. Udum didn't give him a chance to grow accustomed to the fresh agony, delivering a line of hard, fast smacks across the middle of the boy's rear and leaving him broken, howling in red-faced agony as four searing little blisters began to grow between his ruler marks.
"I believe the lesson has been learned," Udum said calmly. He took a moment to check on Hafn, wiping the boy's face and quietly assuring him the spanking was over. With that private support given, the teacher fetched from the back of the class a handful of pillows and arranged them on his desk, and shifted the anxious, whining Hafn onto them. "You are going to stay right here as a reminder to everyone present to be on their best behaviour. Alif, don't think I've forgotten about you! Provoked or not, you were fighting just the same, and that means trouble for you and Lyy. However, we have wasted more than enough time on reddening backsides today. You two will serve your penance in the privacy of your own homes. Be thankful for that mercy!"
"T-thank you, Master!" Alif squeaked obediently, and a similar, timid utterance was delivered by Lyy.
With that, Udum returned to his lecturing, speaking to his class about the importance of obedience, loyalty and self-discipline. Focused far more on his own pain and humiliation, Hafn tuned out the specifics, choosing instead to bury his head in his paws and quietly sob away his shame. Even that was not easy for him, as twice Udum stepped up behind the boy and delivered a sudden, unwarranted smack to his blisters, each time prompting a loud squeal of agony and a long bawling back to his prior, broken whimpers. He missed out on the usual class breaks, and it wasn't until lunchtime that he was finally allowed to come down, pull his pants carefully over his stinging rear and rejoin the class.
Seeking some normalcy, Hafn wandered over to the corner of the room where Ros and Skal were waiting. The boys had adopted that space as their own for their meals as they all brought food from home, but today the group had shrunk by two. Sam's absence was to be expected, but it seemed Lyy had chosen not to join them either. Glancing round the room, Hafn saw Lyy sat at her desk with her silver lunchbox and her red silk cutlery bag placed carefully on the desk. He wandered over, his teeth grit against the unpleasant rubbing of fabric against his furless rear, and asked, "Hey, aren't you joining us?"
Lyy shot him a venomous glare in reply. "Why would I want to eat with you? Alif told me why you two were fighting, and what you said."
"I didn't know he'd punish you and Ros because of it!" Hafn protested, but that seemed only to enrage Lyy further.
The girl jumped from her seat, the rubber nubs of the chair's feet giving a loud, low squeal at the sudden motion. "That's not why I'm mad at you, idiot!"
Hafn looked from Lyy's furious scowl to Alif, who in turn had his eyes fixed firmly on Udum. He swallowed nervously, returned his focus to Lyy and said awkwardly, "I'm sorry, I didn't know you two were friends."
Lyy's paw slapped across Hafn's muzzle, and every single Penny fell deathly silent save for her. Panting and teary-eyed, Lyy gave a shaking gasp and said in a low, seething tone, "why don't you stay with your own kind from now on, and I'll stay with mine. That way, you won't have to be sick of us anymore." Then, as if only just realising where she was and who was watching, she quickly sat back down at her desk, gripped the edges of the table and stared at her food as if expecting it to run away from her. Hafn backed away slowly, his paw raised to the reddening mark on the side of his muzzle, and without a word slunk back to his corner of the room. Udum never so much as looked up from his desk.
After a miserable lunch, eaten slowly with a great deal of sniffling and sulking, Hafn was allowed to rejoin his peers for proper lessons. There, at least, he found a little peace; Udum mostly probed the far side of the horseshoe during his brief dissertation, and afterwards came written exercises to demonstrate how well the students had grasped the concepts recited to them. It seemed unfair, as Hafn had hardly been in a position to listen properly, but most of the questions concerned things they'd been lectured on before the holiday, so everyone was equally disadvantaged. The class even dared to engage in whispered conversation, which grew to quiet talking levels before Udum indicated, by way of lowering his glasses and scowling at the class, that the volume had reached its maximum. Not long after, a fresh torment began.
"Lyy, I have a question about your homework assignment." The girl looked up anxiously as Udum strolled over to her with his dreaded ruler in hand. "Paws out, child. Do you believe your essay was of sufficient length?"
"I... no?" The girl shrieked as the ruler chopped down on her paws, smacking both in quick succession and causing her to recoil them back against her chest.
"If you knew it was too short, why did you submit it incomplete?" Udum asked with a disapproving tone. "What you gave me was of good quality, better than I had expected from you, so I won't accept lack of ability as an excuse!"
Thus began the grim march around the class, challenging the children seemingly at random. No-one knew when they would be called, or the criteria for the choosing; Eneyd also got her paws whacked - knuckles and palms - so when it was Bozma's turn the whole class was on edge. All he got was a quiet, "you can do better," and nothing more. Skal was first to receive something approaching praise; passable work. Then came Ros.
"I trust you did not conspire with Hafn for this assignment?" Udum asked, peering sidelong at the boy with an air of haughty disdain.
"Nossir!" Ros frantically shook his head. "But we both got help from Ivaka, our mistress."
Udum considered the excuse for a moment. "Fair enough. I have marked the sections I considered overly similar. So long as this does not happen again, I'm willing to let it slide. Otherwise, a decent effort." He then turned toward Hafn. and raised his tablet, pausing briefly to adjust his glasses before reading aloud.
"It is the estimated opinion of some discriminating nobles that Vsar, although resolutionary for his era, should be overcast in favour of more modern thinkers, whose lived experiences better refract the present aons." The tablet lowered, and Udum scowled down at the shrinking Penny before him. "Quite the claim, young man, and un-sourced. Where, pray tell, did you get this information?"
Hafn flinched at the question. "I... I spoke to a nobleman who visited the Sinking Light and... and that's what he said."
Udum bared his teeth in disgust. "Bad enough that I had to suffer through your butchered attempt to sound intellectual, but now you compound your failings with such an obvious lie? Here's the truth, Hafn; you decided to claim greater knowledge than I, to dismiss teachings I prescribed because you had not the stomach to accept the lessons!"
"No! That's not true!" Hafn protested, but to no avail. Udum took hold of his right wrist and pulled him forward, bringing the ruler down hard across the boy's palm with a terrible thwack, which was all but lost under the sharp howl from Hafn. A second stroke followed and he clenched his paw closed to protect the sensitive skin, only for his teacher to twist his hand and rap the knuckles hard enough to make his fingers jolt open.
"You should know by now that I resisting punishment only earns you more!" the Nightsider scolded as Hafn reluctantly opened his palm to the dreaded metal-edged implement. Four more sharp chops smacked against the soft, pink pad of the boy's paw, and the fire of its bite kept him howling throughout. Ever fond of balance, Udum released the boy's paw after six strokes, only to grab his other hand and repeat the process. After a few short minutes of slow, burning strikes, Hafn was left bawling and cradling his wounded paws and long, angry welts bubbled up on his tender pads.
"You are here to learn," Udum scolded. "You are all here to learn! The most important lesson of all is that defiance of authority will only bring you pain and misery, as our absent student is no-doubt acutely aware by now. You should-"
"She's innocent!" Skal snapped, all but leaping from his seat in anger at the accusation. "Sam was used! She's a victim!"
Udum froze. It was a terrible stillness, like that of a predator in the moment before pouncing. When he spoke, his voice was low and calm, which was far worse than any amount of angry shouting. "It is admirable that you wish to defend your friend, but neither your position within the Enforcer's Guild, nor your personal delusions will sway anyone. Your friend is guilty of one of the worst crimes imaginable and she will face the consequences. I hope, for your sake, that her suffering is not made public."
The Nightsider stalked toward Skal's desk. He removed his shades and clasped his hands behind his back, so that he could look the boy squarely in the eye. "When you believed her dying I offered you time and space to grieve. When that grief consumed you, I forced you back into the waking world. Now I see the anger in you, and I won't feed it. You can shout and scream and stamp your little feet like a toddler all you want, but I have no intention of entertaining your victim complex. I pity you, Skal. I pity the anguish that girl gave you, I pity your inability to see her for what she truly was, and most of all I pity you because you are either unable or unwilling to deal with your grief like a man. So snap at me all you like little boy, and when you've bitten every hand extended to you, and no-one cares to listen to your pathetic mewling... well, then we'll all see how tough you really are."
"Shut up!" Skal howled in return, shoving his chair back and bolting for the door. A dozen pairs of eyes watched his flight, and a tense stillness came over the classroom as the echoes of the door slam faded away.
Udum took a moment to reflect before carefully placing his glasses back on and sighing, "For all your flaws, Hafn, you at least had the wisdom to accept punishment. Our little Skal is about to learn the hard way that running from your problems will only make them worse. Now! Let us cast this from our minds for now, and let me take a moment to explain to you all why you should never consider an act as foolish as his..."

Skal made it all the way to the transport station before anything resembling a coherent thought entered his mind. He had ran the whole way, and the combination of cold air and emotional intensity left him leaning against an informational billboard as he gasped for air. His chest felt as though it were being crushed, and where as an adult he might have been able to think clearly, in his six-year-old form his mind thrashed about inside his skull, leaping from extreme to extreme without ever focusing on something useful, or rational. His paw snatched for the familiar, comforting weight of the life-ring he wore, and he cried openly for his mother at the touch of it. Life had been so much easier then, when all problems could be solved by running into her arms, nuzzling against her and enjoying the comfort of her touch.
His tearful sobs steadied for a moment. For an instant he was back home, in the living room. The carpet was red, worn hard and flat in the centre of the room but still vibrant and full-bodied in the corners. The walls were covered in cream paper, and joiners ran at regular intervals to hide where the papers met, or didn't quite meet as the case may be; you could see the gaps if you knew where to look. The joiners were covered in blue flowers, as was the header-band. The ceiling was mottled white. The sofas were expensive, but hand-me-down, the white leather discoloured by use. Farthest from him, with a hot drink steaming gently on a glass side table, was a Dawnsider woman. She was grey furred with tan speckles that began under her ears and spread, growing to about fist sized across her shoulders before petering away onto her chest and midway down the spine. Most of those were covered by a well-cut woman's shirt, deep blue, and a matching pair of working pants. She had a cheap book in her hand, a paper throw-away full of word puzzles. He could see her face, but he couldn't make out the details; not the shape of her muzzle, nor the colour of her eyes, nor the pattern of her body heat. He didn't need to. He knew exactly who she was. "Mum!" he called out, but she wasn't there to answer him. The memory seemed so real he could feel the carpet between his toes and smell the disinfectant from the freshly scrubbed kitchen floor in the next room. In a heartbeat it was gone.
Numb and shaking, Skal managed to work his way onto a magline car and headed for the only place he could think to go - the Hall. The ghostly memory left him with a burning need for a parent, and Kadan was all he had. He needed to find him, to throw himself to his master and for the world to be made right. All the way, he couldn't stop himself from shaking, nor could he restrain the random fits of tears. He ran headlong through the motor pool upon arrival, his progress briefly halted by a challenge from a young man who didn't recognise him, but captain Bast was on hand to wave him through. "Kadan's looking for you," the captain said. Had Skal been in a better frame of mind, he might have heard the warning in the officer's tone.
Skal hurried through into the office to find Kadan sat at his desk, seething quietly. The Penny boy gave a blubbing gasp as he entered, and that pause gave Kadan the first word. "I got a call from your teacher that you'd ran away," he growled.
"I din't... I n-needed... He said- " Skal gave up trying to explain, partly because he couldn't make sense of his own actions, but also because the growing anger in Kadan's face had began to seep through the boy's befuddlement.
"You are the poster boy for the Penitatas program!" Kadan snapped. "Udum's school was set up by Lady Tavik herself! He reports directly to her! There are eyes on us now, looking for any excuse to tear down the whole system, and you've gone and ran from his damn school!"
Skal flinched beneath the venomous words, struggling to come up with some excuse that might justify his actions, but all he could come up with was to plead that Udum's harsh words were too much for him to take. He didn't bother to say that out loud; if the roles were reversed, he'd never have accepted that as an excuse. "Torn? What's the punishment for runaways?" Kadan asked, turning his attention from Skal to the young Corrector.
Torn grimaced at the question. He gave a sorrowful look towards the Penny and answered quietly, "Desertion would be a lashing."
Kadan shook his head, "This isn't desertion, this is a Penitatas running from his master. Do we have a settled punishment for that? No? Fine. Skal, you'll stand in the stocks."
"What? No! That's not fair!" Skal protested, but it only served to make Kadan more angry.
"You know damn well it's fair!" he shouted back. "You brought this on yourself! You're the one who wanted to shape his own destiny, you put yourself on the pedestal! Now you have to live with that, whether you like it or not, and that means you can't get away with something like this! I'll fast-track it through and you'll serve your time tomorrow. Maybe, with luck, word won't get out until it's over."
Skal stood and trembled, mute with fear, as Kadan turned away and huffed out his anger. The man's fists clenched and relaxed in a slow, rhythmic pace as his breathing slowed and deepened. Once calm, he focused on Skal once more. "I want you to go home now, and I'm trusting you to make your own way there and stay put. Don't make things worse than they already are."
Defeated, Skal hung his head and let out a low, teary whimper. "I'm s-sorry. I'm an idiot," he sighed, rubbing his paws anxiously. His eyes remained down-turned as he heard Kadan step towards him, and a hand was placed upon his head.
"Skal," he began, but hesitated. "I understand why this happened, I do. I know you want to see Sam again. I... look, we'll talk about this later. Please, just go home, and keep your nose out of trouble for the rest of the day." Skal opened his mouth to protest, but the warning scowl he got convinced him to keep his mouth shut. Tail firmly between his legs, he quietly slunk from the office, sick with dread at what tomorrow might bring.

The Sinking Light was busier than Ivaka had expected, and the clientele had undergone a subtle, but noticed shift. Some of the regulars and semi-regulars had vanished, but in their place had come a much younger set of visitors. They came alone, in groups or with families, and almost all were around the age of ten; rejuves who had chosen the Birthing as a time to begin life anew. That was no issue to anyone at the Sinking Light, but the Nightsider couldn't help but keep one eye on the door at all times, wondering if a Daysider was going to walk in, and what she'd do if they did. She only saw two the whole night, both Rejuves. The pair were physically ten years old, a boy and a girl, and she knew they'd arrived by the sudden drop in background noise. They were defensive, clearly having lost whatever giddy feeling had carried them to a place renowned for its ties to Rejuvenation and the Enforcers. She met the boy's eye, studied him for a moment, then quietly beckoned them forward. The tension passed, for now.
The boy settled on a stool and put on a brave face. "We don't need our parents' permission to drink here, do we?"
The landlady gave a cold smile in response. "Show me your paws," she said to them, and on each she saw a runic 'V' symbol. "Good enough for me. What do you want?"
"Two small ales and a table. We'll be ordering food," the boy replied as his female friend glanced about the room. Nobody was paying them much attention now, but the cold welcome had obviously shaken her. Ivaka got their drinks and directed them to the back of the room. Then, for good measure, she waved over her temporary bouncer.
"Keep an eye on those two, would you? My gut says there'll be trouble."
Eskal followed Ivaka's pointing snout and said, "I don't see them being a problem."
"Can't you feel the room, nobleman? If they get out without someone swinging at them, I'll give you a day's board for free."
"No bet," Eskal replied as his eyes caught a shift in movement. In the next table over were two Dawnsider men in Lifter Yellow, middle-aged and dedicated to a day-long session. They'd been focused on a small tablet that blared out sports results, but they were no-longer cheering or booing in tune with the fates of their team. The nobleman began to move slowly toward the Lifters, and as he did his paws slipped into his pockets to find a pair of knuckle bars waiting there. He never got a chance to use them; barely halfway across the room the front door opened again, and this time it was fear that brought silence to the room.
The Varangian entered. His flame-orange fur was cropped short, allowing old scars to show clearly beneath. A necklace of knuckle bones hung around his neck, and the grey leathers he wore reeked of sulphur. He wore his weapons openly; a dirty machete at his hip, and a pair of thin daggers in a bandoleer across his chest. He looked about and quickly found his mark - the recently arrived Rejuves, and with every eye in the Sinking Light upon him the Varangian approached the pair. "Our kind don't drink here," he growled.
The boy, trembling, dared to speak up. "We're not with you. I think you've mistaken us for someone else."
"Our kind don't drink here," the Varangian said again, and this time a paw came to rest upon the blades at his chest. "This place is for cowards and weaklings. You know what must be done to the weak."
Eskal stepped forward, squaring off against the Varangian. "They don't have to leave," he said, but the pair disagreed. They had cleared the table and scurried away.
"Haakyr wants to speak to you," the Daysider added to Eskal as the Rejuves retreated out into the street. "Don't keep him waiting, or he'll come here in person." With that, he turned smugly on his heels and strode away, laughing to himself. With the sinister intruder gone, normality slowly returned to the establishment and the background chatter picked up once more, while Ivaka turned her attentions to the kitchens.
The rear door to the Sinking Light crept open, and the Penny boys were ushered through with Danin close behind. "There was a gang of Daysiders outside," Danin explained, "I figured it was best to avoid them."
"Yes, we had the pleasure of meeting one," Ivaka growled before checking on her young charges. "How was school?"
"Fine," Hafn mumbled as he tried to push by and head for the stairs. Ivaka took him by the shoulder and halted his escape, much to the boy's disdain.
"What's wrong?" Ivaka asked, stepping between Hafn and his escape. The boy refused to meet her eye. "Hafn? Talk to me."
"It's nothing! Please just leave me alone, mum!" the Penny snapped, to the surprise of all present. Ivaka carefully stepped aside and let him run upstairs. She waited until he was out of sight before turning to Ros for an explanation.
"He got into a fight in school," Ros said without being prompted. "Udum paddled him pretty bad. Shaved the fur off his backside as well."
"I see. Stay here a minute while I go talk to him. Grab something to eat if you're hungry." Satisfied her better-behaved charge wasn't about to break character on her, Ivaka headed up to the boys' bedroom and found Hafn face down on the bed, muzzle buried firmly into his pillow. She lingered on the threshold a while, waiting to see if he would acknowledge her, and entered only when it was clear he either wasn't aware of her, or was actively ignoring her presence. With a sigh, she settled down beside him and said, "Alright, let's see the damage. Shorts down."
Grumbling at the request, Hafn did as he was told. As expected, she was greeted with a bald, pink backside, but the line of four angry blisters came as something of a shock. Ivaka had taken a few implements to the boy since purchasing him, but never something that would leave such an enduring injury as a cut or blister. "What happened at school today?" she asked carefully in a supportive tone. Hafn responded by trying to bury his head further into the pillow. "Hafn, I can't help if you don't talk to me. I'm giving you a chance to give your side of the story here."
The boy shuffled enough that he could turn one eye up towards Ivaka and mumbled, "I was mad at Alif, the Daysider. Because of what happened during the Birthing. I lost my temper and I got into a fight, so he paddled me!" The boy became more animated, the confession drawing out his emotions so that his words became shaky and tearful. "T-then he swatted my paws because he said I lied to him when I wrote in m-my homework something Eskal told me! It's not- it's not f-f-fair! He's horrible to us! He p-picked on Skal as well! He was so cruel to Skal he ran away!"
"Oh, sweetheart," Ivaka answered in as soothing a tone as she could. She didn't know what to make of Hafn's claims about Skal, but that was far from her concern for the moment. "I'm sorry, I really am. You and Ros seemed to bounce back from that day so quickly, I just never thought..." her fingers gently stroked the fur on Hafn's head, while the boy hid his face once more and began to quietly sniffle and shudder. Her ministrations slowed as her mind wandered, considering what was best for her unhappy charge, and while lost in thought she failed to notice Hafn had calmed down until he squirmed from under her paw and sat upright, cross-legged on the bed. "I think it might be best to tackle this head on. Go wash your face and change your clothes while I contact your teacher."
Somewhat nervous, Hafn obeyed. After scrubbing himself at the sink, not quite drying his fur and changing into a comfortable white shirt and black shorts, the Penitatas idled at the stairs until Ivaka emerged from her office. A brief flicker of a smile suggested she was happy with his appearance, and the Nightsider steered him downstairs and toward the back door with only a brief pause to rattle off instructions for the staff. Once out in the bustling streets of Vices, Hafn was taken by the hand and walked along a familiar route toward the nearest transit terminal, and from there it was a short ride to Darkside, albeit one that was made unpleasant for Hafn due to the blisters on both cheeks. Udum, it turned out, lived on the very edge of the subterranean district, in a tall, but narrow house whose back walls pressed against the district's excavation wall on two sides. The shiver that ran down Hafn's spine as Udum opened his front door had nothing to do with the uncomfortably cold air. "Welcome to my home," Udum said to Ivaka with a slight bow. "My wife is upstairs in the dining room, so we shall make use of the lounge. Please, have a seat."
Ivaka settled onto the low, black lounger with Hafn tucked close to her side. The seat was much to firm for the boy's liking. "I wanted to speak with you about what happened in school today. Hafn said you accused him of lying?"
"The boy had the audacity to claim he had spoken to a nobleman while working on his assignment," Udum answered calmly as he settled into a nearby armchair. He had a pad in his hand, which Hafn recognised as the one he used at school to judge the assignments.
"As unlikely as it sounds, it's the truth. We have a man of noble birth renting our guest room." Ivaka's hand massaged Hafn's shoulder as she spoke.
Udum considered this a moment. "I see. Be that as it may, it is an extraordinary assertion to make without a source, or even so much as a name with which to back up the claim. If Hafn had included the name of the nobleman he consulted, or offered it to me in the classroom, I may have been lenient on him."
"You 'may' have been?" Ivaka leaned forward, shifting both paws onto her knees. "That's another matter I'm concerned about. I've heard about some of the things that go on in your classroom, and it sounds to me like you're a bully to these children."
The comment caused Udum to raise an eyebrow. "Let me first say that I commend you for being concerned enough for the wellbeing of your charges to come to me about this. That said, my methods are approved by the highest of offices. I was hand picked for the running of this school precisely because I am able to provide both scholastic guidance and corporal punishment as is required, and in case you have forgotten, punishment is exactly what the Penitatas require."
"They are punished. They were reverted to children and sold into slavery," Ivaka countered.
"Indeed? And barring his enrollment in my school, how is his life any different to any other child? Oh, I have no doubt you were hard in the early days, and likely if he openly defies you, but I think it a safe wager to say that you have softened on him. Why else would you be here now? I was chosen for this duty because I am able to look past the small, timid bodies they possess and see the adult in dire need of correction. I lived on the Human world of Icara for a time, and I was instructed in how they raise their Penitatas. I cared for a 'soft timer' for several years, and the experience was enlightening. I am not harsh upon my charges because I enjoy their suffering; I am harsh because their suffering is necessary! For their own sake, they have to endure the pain and humiliation, so that they can be broken down and remade into better people. I do not believe you have the stomach for that, and I mean that as no insult. Hafn is fortunate that he can run home and cry in the arms of someone who cares for the tears he sheds."
Udum gave a long sigh and made to rise from his seat. "I hate to seem an impatient host, but I have a great deal of marking to do. It devours ones time."
"I'm not finished yet," Ivaka answered, refusing to stand as invited.
"I'm afraid that you are. If you have issue with my methods, you are welcome to bring your concerns to the House Tavik. Alternatively, you may withdraw one or both of your charges, but doing so will be remarked upon in their records, and may reflect poorly upon them when their parole or special punishments are considered."
A low growl escaped Ivaka's throat as she snarled, "I don't appreciate you threatening my boy."
"It was merely a statement of fact. It is neither my fault, nor my concern that you find reality threatening. Good afternoon," he finished with a wave towards the door.
With a pained look towards Hafn, the Nightsider woman rose and took the boy by the hand. She made for the door, albeit slowly, chewing over her thoughts as she reached the threshold, only to turn sharply and face Udum once more. "I will be bringing my concerns to a higher authority," she hissed. There was a tremble in her voice, an energetic shake that straddled the line between fear and anger. "I won't be going to House Tavik; we both know they won't have time for someone like me. I'll take my concerns to Corrector-Captain Kadan. He's a close friend, you see, and he doesn't find the nobility nearly as intimidating as I do. Now consider this, Udum: Kadan damn near beat our new Lord Governor to death in a Rough House just because he thought the man was too cocky. What do you think a man like that will do when he hears you're torturing the children in your care?"
Udum replied with silence. He studied Ivaka's face carefully while keeping a neutral expression, neither rising to the challenge nor retreating. The only clue to his inner thoughts lay in his paws; his fingers twitched and tapped rapidly, as if he were typing out some inner monologue. At last, having reached a decision, he glanced down to Hafn and said calmly, "You should go upstairs and speak with Alif. His room is on the top floor. Chop-chop."
With a leaden stomach, but not daring to protest, Hafn worked his way up the vertical house to the bedroom of his fellow Penitatas. It wasn't hard to find as the door was open, allowing him a clear view of Alif at his desk. The boy was bent over a paper pad and a data tablet, switching attention from one to the other. His muzzle was creased with concentration, but his general posture showed he was an unwilling participant in his writing activities. Hafn snuck in, lip twitching with frustration at having to share a room with the Daysider. Alif sensed his approach and looked up sharply, quickly becoming puzzled, then angry. "What the hell are you doing here?" he growled.
"My m- Mistress Ivaka made me come. She wanted to speak with Udum," Hafn replied. He found his arms folding across his chest of their own accord.
Alif grunted at the reply and turned back to his work. "Well I hope you get stuck with this stupid essay as well. Thanks to you I got paddled as soon as we walked in the door, then Udum made me write about how it's important to my 'proper moral upbringing' to support and cooperate with my classmates. I have to justify my position using moral arguments from scholarly sources. Oh, and he was going to treat me to a day out when the Kingsball tournament starts again, but now I won't be going to that. I won't even be allowed to watch the games at home if he isn't satisfied with my work, so thanks for that as well!" Alif finished with a spiteful snap.
"Won't be hard for you, knowing everything about history and stuff," Hafn grumbled in reply. Alif ignored him initially, and so Hafn settled for leaning against the wall and tapping his toes in the thick, green carpet. With little else to do, the Dawnsider boy watched his unwilling host scribble away, and when that proved to be insufficiently engaging he resorted picking his nose, tonguing his teeth and huffing random rhythms under his breath.
"Do you actually care about history, or do you just pretend to impress Udum?" Alif finally asked. Whether it was because the question had preyed on him or he simply wanted Hafn to be quiet, it wasn't clear.
"Can't it be both?" Hafn replied as his eyes searched the room for some excuse not to interact with the Daysider boy. Nothing sprang out at him. "My great grandfather is a noble. Ever since I learned that I've wanted to know more about what being nobility is like."
Alif paused in his writing and turned around slowly. His expression made it clear what he thought of Hafn's worthiness for such a station. "Then I guess you don't know where your kind comes from."
Hafn gave Alif a puzzled look. "We come from the Dawn, obviously."
"The 'Dawn' is made up," Alif answered with as bitter a tone as a six year old could manage. "Before Rahyyk, your kind were called 'Daysiders', just like mine. Rahyyk changed that. He wanted to unify the world, and he knew you couldn't do that just by marching into the land of the next tribe with an army; you had to convince that tribe they were actually your tribe, and so that's what he did. He made the Dawn Kingdom, and he gave it a chosen people. He spread the Forge-Faith to the tribes most like his own; the 'true' Kyyreni who had a God-given duty to unify the world under one banner. Then he cast out all those who didn't fit his new order - those who wouldn't worship his Gods, or who were 'corrupted', like my ancestors."
"That's a load of bullshit!" Hafn snapped back angrily. "I haven't read as many books as you, but I've watched plenty of history broadcasts! There's a reason the Eastern Dawn is full of ancient castles and fortified towns, and that's because your kind would slaughter whole villages and eat them! There are mass graves all along the border, some of them older than the Dawn Kingdom! Some are even older than the first empires! You have always been monsters, and no amount of stories will change that!"
In the long, furious silence that followed both boys stood ready to brawl, with fists clenched, teeth bared and a predator's growl in their throats. Staring at Hafn, Alif was able to see the door from the corner of his eye, hanging ajar. He gave a shiver of childish dread, his anger quickly dissipating at the thought of a fresh spanking so soon after his last round of corporal punishment. Still, even with that fear, there was a petulant need to jab home another barb. "You were wrong about what you said at school; we weren't untouched. Do you know Nira in Class 3? Someone decided to fire a shot put at her with a homemade launcher. She's been in the hospital for a week."
Hafn froze, trying to cling to the anger he'd felt moments before, but it hard to do with the growing knot in his stomach. "I didn't know that," he mumbled. "Were you friends?"
"That's not the point," Alif growled, turning his eyes back to his work. "You assumed that we were spared because we were Daysiders. It doesn't work that way. Men like Haakyr pretend they speak for our whole species, that we all stand united behind their madness and depravity, but we don't. At least, we don't want to. When someone like Haakyr tells you to join a cult, you join because you know exactly what he'll do if you refuse."
The quiet that followed was not one of anger, but reflection. Hafn stood meekly in the middle of the room, clutching at his tail, while Alif gave a long, dejected stare towards his writing tablet. Eventually, Hafn broke the calm with an awkward question. "Did... was your friend ever get found?"
Alif puzzled over the question. "You mean Rhyd? He wasn't my friend, he was just a Penny I suffered with. I don't know where he is, and I don't want to know. I hope I never see him again. He was... he was everything you accuse me of being."
"He reminded me of the first Daysiders I ever met," Hafn said in the sullen tones of an unpleasant memory revisited, "some of them moved in opposite us when the plot opposite was renovated. Next day, three of their kids were playing outside. They were older than me, but I wanted to be friends. They seemed nice, but when they invited me around the back, off the street, they turned nasty. They called me a 'piss-furr', then they beat me up and stole my bag. When I told my dad, he blamed me. 'What did you expect? That's what their kind does!' he said."
"Sounds about right," Alif replied with a miserable tone. He gave up pretending to work and pushed the tablet away. "We'd better get our story straight, because I know Udum's going to have heard raised voices and I don't want another paddling."
Hafn gave a nod and forced himself to smile. "I guess we tell him we worked things out between us?"
"We came to an understanding, you mean? I don't think we're ever going to be friends, but we don't have to be enemies."
"Fair enough," the Dawnsider boy replied with a nod before settling back against the wall. He wasn't there for long, or so it seemed to him, before the tell-tale shushed thumps of feet on carpet alerted him to an adult ascending the stairs. Hafn stepped out and glanced down the steps anxiously, and was far from thrilled to see Udum there.
"Ah, excellent. Time for you to come back down," the Nightsider said. Then he turned and descended, not bothering to check if the Penny boy was following, which he naturally did. He was led down into the lounge where Ivaka was perched on the edge of her seat once more, signalling her intent to leave. Udum bent down to scoop a small stack of papers from the table in front of her, turned, and handed them to Hafn. "An assignment for you. No doubt Alif has filled you in on what is required, and I have confirmed with your mistress that you will be given ample time tonight to complete the task. If it is not done tomorrow, your hide will bear the penalty."
"Y-yessir, I understand!" Hafn squeaked as he accepted the papers. They bore the essay title pre-written for him, and a short paragraph explaining exactly what was expected in terms of minimum length, content and sourcing. Ivaka, apparently waiting for this, rose to her feet and offered a quiet word of thanks to Udum before taking Hafn gently by the shoulder and steering him towards the door. Under his breath he muttered, "How come I have to do this?"
"Because I say so," Ivaka replied firmly. "I think this will be a good exercise for you, to help get your feelings in order."
Hafn did not speak again until they were safely away from the house and headed for home. It was getting on towards the evening, not that such things mattered much in the domed city, but it was marked by an increase in traffic on the streets as morning shift-workers headed home, or out in search of entertainment and the evening-shift set out to take their place. Taviksaad never truly slept. "It was pretty cool of you to call Udum's bluff like that, threatening him with Kadan. I bet he was really scared," Hafn said nervously as they joined the queue at the transit hub.
Ivaka replied with a warning poke on the boy's arm. "Udum didn't have us stay because he was afraid, we stayed because he realised just how much this mattered to me. If you start acting like you or your friends can push him around you are going to be in for a lot of pain!" Hafn's blistered buttocks clenched at the scolding, and he nodded urgently to show his understanding. Seeing the boy shrinking beside her, Ivaka gave a soft chuckle and added, "Hey, look on the bright side? You're not working tables or scrubbing down tonight. Get that essay done early enough and you'll have plenty of time to lounge around doing nothing. That's your idea of paradise, isn't it?"
"I guess, but won't Ros feel bad about having to work while I'm not?"
"Good point. In that case, you can come back to work as soon as you're done with the essay. I'm kidding!" she added urgently, seeing the shocked, hurt expression on Hafn's muzzle. "If you finish early enough, and I'm happy you've done a good job, I'll send Ros to keep you company. Sound good?"
"Sound great, mum!" Hafn answered with a grin.

The next day of school came, as it inevitably had to, and Hafn found himself dreading it. He was there early enough that, as with yesterday, the only other boys present were Ros and Alif. No Skal, however. Once again, it fell to them to arrange the tables and chairs, a task that Hafn helped with this time, and they took their seats as more Penitatas filed in one by one. Lyy was one of the first to arrive, dressed in a shimmering green dress and knee-length white shorts. The outfit, like most of what she wore these days, was more suited to a high-class restaurant than a classroom for delinquents. "Hey," Hafn called out to her, but she strode past him as if he weren't there and took her place behind Alif. It seemed to the hurting Penny that she was enjoying their whispered chatting far too much.
When ten of the twelve seats were filled - Sam and Skal being absent - Udum took up his place at the head of the classroom and brought them to attention with a loud clearing of the throat. "Before we begin there are some matters left to address. It was brought to my attention yesterday evening that some of my pupils have been struggling to come to terms with the growing unrest that surrounds us. Fear, anger and confusion conspired to cloud their judgement and prompt reckless acts. That foolishness was punished, but the underlying cause went unaddressed. I will ask this plainly; how many of you would feel comfortable speaking to me about personal issues, or troubles at home?"
The Nightsider scanned his classroom, and seemed to be unsurprised when none of them raised a paw. "As I suspected. In this rare instance the fault is mine, for in my desire to make you all understand the harsh consequences of delinquency and laziness, I failed to provide something equally valuable to your growth; a sense of safety. I am hard on you because you need a firm hand, but I am neither cruel nor malicious - the pain I inflict is pain you bring upon yourselves, and not a swat more. I will never raise my hand to you for circumstances beyond your control, but for that to be the case I must first know the circumstances. You may speak to me openly or in private, whichever you prefer, but I would always encourage you to speak in front of the class; it brings courage to others to speak in kind, and helps your peers to understand your motivations. Would anyone care to speak now?"
Hafn turned to Ros, who gave a slight nod of approval. The boy stood up, glanced shyly about as all eyes turned to him and said, "Ros and I were attacked by the Daysi- by the Sun Cult. They were going to hang us, but we were saved and managed to escape. I... I wanted revenge. I wanted to hurt them for hurting me, but I can't, so I took it out on Alif instead. I'm sorry," he added to the Daysider boy, who didn't acknowledge the comments and seemed to be making an effort to appear passive and neutral.
"Do you all see now how a great deal of pain and misery could have been avoided, if only we spoke to one another about our fears?" Udum's eyes were fixed squarely on Alif and Lyy as he spoke. "Does anyone else have a burden they wish to shed?"
"Hafn and I have already talked things out," Alif said quietly, which Udum accepted with a slight nod as he turned his attention to Lyy.
"And you, young lady?" Lyy's eyes flicked up from her desk to meet Hafn's gaze, but she said nothing. Udum saw the doubt and added, "perhaps some things are best discussed later. For now, let us return to our lessons. It shall be an easier day, so that those with personal considerations can mull them over, and perhaps resolve them by lunchtime."
Udum was a man of his word. He stuck mostly to basic, if boring fundamentals; proper grammar and sentence structure, how to properly convey tone in writing, and a brief sideline into how to write and application letter. He neither called upon, nor made mention of the fact that neither Lyy nor Hafn had volunteered any answers to his questions, and seemed to trust that they were keeping up with the class. Lunchtime came as a welcome escape, even though it was only Hafn and Ros sat in their corner with their lunches.
"Lyy? You are not eating with your friends," Udum said far too loudly to be a private comment. All ten Penitatas paused to watch.
"I'm fine. I want to eat alone," she answered him.
"Are you sure you don't have something to say to them? It seemed you had a great deal on your mind this morning," Udum prompted, and the more savvy members of the class quickly realised where his uncharacteristic friendliness was headed.
"No, I don't," Lyy answered in a tone that bordered on pouting.
As predicted, the teacher's friendliness vanished instantly. "Then let me be plain; you can settle your matter with Hafn now, or you can settle it after I blister your backside in front of the whole class!"
With a startled yelp, Lyy scooped up her food and hurried over to Hafn and Ros. She dropped onto the mat as they made room for her, but made a point of not acknowledging either as she unpacked her food once more and started eating. Shyly, Hafn picked up a tiny blue ball of pastry and offered it to her. "Mum made us mini-upo. You want one?"
Lyy's ears pricked. "Your 'mum' made it?" she asked, glancing curiously at the tiny morsel.
Hafn blushed. "Mistress Ivaka," he clarified. "She... offered to adopt us."
After a pause, Lyy took the upo and popped it into her mouth. "This doesn't mean I forgive you," she said between chews.
"Look, I'm really sorry! I was hurt and angry and... and I didn't think, like always. I ran my mouth off like an idiot and I hate myself for that. I'd never have said those things if I knew it'd upset you."
Lyy paused to scowl at the boy. "So you'd have said them anyway if I wasn't listening?"
"That's not what I meant!" Hafn protested, bordering on tears.
The Daysider girl looked back down at her food. She had silver utensils, real silver. Carefully, she picked through the mix of white meat and reddened, spicy vegetable until she found a tiny green pepper, which she skewered and swallowed. "You said you almost died. Is that true, or are you exaggerating again?"
"It's true!" Ros butted in. "Didn't your master tell you anything about what happened? About why we came over that night?"
"He said there was riots in Vices again, so you wanted to be safe."
"It was more than riots!" Hafn replied, "They wanted to kill us! Then Skal went with Eskal and Kadan to track down the guy who murdered the Lord Governor! They almost died!"
The girl gave a weary sigh. "I don't think I believe you this time."
"But-" Hafn went to protest, but Ros put a paw on his chest to silence him.
"Why don't you ask to come to the Sinking Light tonight?" the younger boy suggested. "Eskal will probably be there, and he can tell you himself what happened. You won't have to believe Hafn, you'll get it all from the mouth of an adult. A noble, no less!"
"I'll think about it," Lyy said, and then made a point of focusing on her food.
She didn't come to the Sinking Light that night.