There had been no breakfast for Skal that morning. He was given a little water and a chance to relieve himself, but it was made clear he'd get little relief until the evening. He dressed smartly for his own sake, wishing to preserve what little dignity he could before the punishment was underway. He knew he was lucky to have spent the evening before at home instead of in a cell, so at least he slept comfortably, if not well. Kadan and Kas both accompanied him to the Palace Common and allowed him to travel freely; another luxury.
Towards the eastern side of the Common on a small, raised platform, the pillory waited. It had been designed with a younger prisoner in mind, similar in construction to the models used for the mass public humiliation during the Winter Hall. This one was mostly metal, save for a thin leather padding that was the only consideration given to comfort, and it was orientated so the prisoner would stand upright. To the uninitiated being upright as opposed to bent over might have seemed inconsequential, or even preferable, but it meant there was no means at all to rest an aching limb, nor could there be anything resembling privacy.
"Please don't do this," Skal whimpered as he approached. It was early morning, early enough that most people were still preparing for the day ahead. The temporary privacy was no comfort compared to the knowledge that it meant extra hours stood in bondage.
Kadan gave the boy a soft pat on the head. "You know there's no way out of this. The only thing you can do now is cooperate." The captain looked to a waiting Enforcer and gave a nod before gently pushing Skal to the edge of the pedestal.
Sniffling quietly at the impending punishment, Skal carefully undressed and allowed himself to be lifted bare-furred onto the pedestal by the Enforcer. The front restraining bar was slid forwards and Skal took up position, trying not to tremble as Kadan and the guard adjusted the height of the restraints, lowering them a few inches so they would lock properly. With securing bolts returned to place, Skal was told to put his wrists and neck against the back-plate, and the front bar was locked shut. It gave him a little room to wiggle, but not much. It was possible, he imagined, to pull his paws free if he was willing to dislocate his thumbs, but his head would not go anywhere. Finally, a wax plate was slid into a waiting slot. Skal had seen the plate ahead of time. It bore three words: SKAL. PENITATAS. RUNAWAY.
"It'll be over before you know it," Kadan said quietly as he stepped off the pedestal. He turned quickly, grabbing Kas more forcefully than was necessary, and all but dragged the Medicalos away with him. The Enforcer gave Skal a brief glance up and down, shrugged, and slowly wandered out of sight.
Skal clenched his eyes shut and whimpered a curse to himself. He tried not to think about the stupidity that had brought him here, naked and bound for all the world to come and laugh at, but now there was nothing for him to do besides think. He cast his mind about, but there were no other happy topics to reflect on. He was here, and would be here for at least twelve hours. Twelve hours! Half a day with no food or water! The very idea made him want to cry, but he fought he urge long enough for his mind to wander to another, no less happy topic - Sam.
Just conjuring her face was a stab in the gut. His worry over losing her gnawed his insides, worming its way through his body until he wanted to vomit. Before, he could have tried to fight it - to lose himself in activity, or to run until he was too tired to hurt. Today, hurt was all he could do.
"How did I end up like this?" he sighed, squirming unhappily in his bindings. As if summoned by the question, memories began to surface, and through his mind's eye, Skal watched the man he used to be pave the path to his current circumstances.

The 67 Crew operated out of Renovation Lot #67, the last 'fuck you!' from the Housing Co-operative to the people of The City before their organisation went belly-up. It was one of several lots that ran along the southern edge of Outer Tenements, and the key feature of each had been the flats. They were ugly rectangles of grey concrete, four floors of four apartments, none of which were occupied by anyone who could possibly have lived anywhere else. The Co-op raised twelve buildings across nine lots, and within a year of completion plans had been made to rip them all down. It had taken thirty years, but eight lots had been transformed into something worth having, leaving #67.
Skal had been with them for two years, and they had become a family to him. He still had his mother of course, but by fifteen he was eager to leave the den and carve out his own destiny. The 67 Crew were a gateway to that destiny; he was living a life without rules, without boundaries, and without the soul-crushing drudgery of lesser men. He wasn't going to rot in an office, or break his back as a labourer. He and the crew were going to run the City from the shadows, kings amongst men!
But first, he had to visit his mother.
"Oh, hello love!" Ayjr cried as she threw her arms around him, squeezing the young man as tightly as she could. It was not the kind of public greeting a stone-cold killer wanted, but he grit his teeth and bore it.
"Hey mum," he replied, trying not to sound impatient. When he was released, he waved a rolled-up paper magazine and added, "I got you another one of your puzzle books."
"Oh thank you, you're always so thoughtful." She took the cheap book and gave him a motherly kiss on the muzzle before waving him through the door. "Look at you! All skin and bone! Haven't you been eating?"
"Worry about feeding yourself. You're getting thin in your old age!" Skal shot back with a laugh. He paused as a familiar odour reached his nostrils. "Aunt Mada's been round, hasn't she?"
Ayjr gave a little grin, "She has, her and her filthy habit. She visits at least twice a week, unlike some people." Skal grimaced at the implication.
The pair entered the living room and Skal dropped himself into the guest sofa, so called because it was smaller and less comfortable. The main sofa had plenty of space, but Skal had never felt quite right sitting on it. That was his father's spot, even though it had been a long time since there'd been a father to fill it. "So what's new?" he asked, and his mother entered into a long monologue of people and places he cared little about. His mother seemed to have an encyclopedic knowledge of every family within half a mile of the house, every birth, death and marriage filed away to be unloaded onto her son whenever he was foolish enough to give her the opening. Still, boring him to tears seemed to make her happy.
"What are you doing for money these days?" she asked out of the blue, catching Skal off guard.
"Money? Oh... I have a job." he answered weakly.
Ayjr's face lit up. "A job? Oh that's great news! Who are you working for? What are the hours? Is the pay good?"
The young man raised his paws to ward off the questions. "It's a pastry place on the other side of the district! I'm doing deliveries and odd-jobs. It's nothing special, but it'll give me some coin."
"And hopefully enough to get a new place to live," his mother answered with a stern tone. "I don't like those 'friends' of yours. You mark my words, Skal, they're trouble."
"Look, I just live with them to split the bills. I barely spend any time with them."
Ayjr's raised eyebrow made her doubt obvious, but she shrugged it off and turned to her new puzzle book. "Well, even so, I think you could do better. You can always move back in with me, you know? It'd make saving easier?"
"Yeah, I know, but I like having my own place. It's... it's easier for work," he finished weakly.
His mother looked up and smiled at him as only a mother could. "Oh I know why you don't want to move back in. Your father was the same; he couldn't be out from under his parents fast enough! Something about being a man, I suppose. I didn't move out until I was pregnant with you! But the house is awfully quiet with just me here."
"I know. I'll try and come round after work one day. Speaking of work, I really should be getting on. Love you, mum." He gave her a goodbye hug and, at her insistence, a kiss on the cheek. Then he was off, back to the 67, back to the life he knew she would never accept. He didn't like lying to his mother about what he did, but the lie made her happy. Besides, what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

It was mid-morning, with fatigue was well and truly setting in, when Skal finally became the centre of someone's attention. 
He'd been dreading it since he first entered the pillory, watching as Palace Common slowly filled with life and activity. Most came for the many shops that lined the paved public space, or the vendors of varying permanence who spread themselves about the Common proper, hawking food or trinkets. Although it lacked the greenery of other commons, it was still a place for the young and old alike to play, exercise or laze about as their hearts desired. These groups, for the most part, left pilloried folk alone. But inevitably, someone would take notice.
Skal heard them before he saw them. Young women's voices, two, perhaps three of them, either late adolescent or just-turned adult judging by their voices. At first, he only listened for something to do, but he caught a few words that sent a jolt of panic through his heart. "Do it, I dare you!"
Footsteps closed in on him, and as he tried in vain to squirm around and see what was happening an unseen woman smacked him hard on the backside. He cried out, more in shock than pain, and was rewarded with the shrieking laughter from the group. It was only then they came into view. The trio were all Daysiders with soft, oak-coloured fur and pleasant ash spots. They might have all been sisters, given how similar their markings and general appearance was. All three were thin-faced with a white ring of fur around their lips that blended into their necks and down toward their breasts. They each wore a revealing outfit of similar style - one blue, one purple, one black, and all three had matching silver torcs on their left biceps.
"See? I said he'd be a Penny," the girl in blue said. "And he's a runaway! Trying to get out of being punished, little boy?"
"It's not what you think!" Skal whimpered. "I wasn't trying to run! It was a mistake!"
The girl in purple skipped over to his side and said, "Yeah? Well so is lying! People don't get up there by accident!" she swung for his backside again, and the loud crack of her paw against his rear amused Blue and Black so much she smacked him again for good measure. It was enough to make him tear up and whimper, which seemed only to embolden the trio.
Black hopped up onto the pedestal, clinging to the pillory to support herself as she looked into Skal's eyes. "Aww, the little guy's crying. Don't worry, we won't make you cry anymore." With a grin she reached up and ran her nails down his flanks, making him cry out for a very different reason. Overjoyed by the reaction, she began to tickle down his sides, making Skal squirm and cry in desperation.
"Nononono!" Skal wailed, thrashing in his restrains hard enough to rattle the pillory. His desperation served only to encourage his tormentor, who laughed with glee as the helpless Penny began to wail and cry under her public tickle-torture.
Mercifully, Black's fun was cut short. One of her friends gave a terrified shriek. "My bag! He stole my bag!" and at that Black retreated to her friends. All three turned east as Purple pointed towards a pedestrian footpath, shaking and sobbing over the lost bag. Although it had happened mere seconds before, the thief was already long gone. After taking a brief moment of talk the three ran off towards the Common's Enforcer precinct, comforting one another as best they could.
Several minutes passed as Skal was left to cry himself calm again. When he finally blinked the last of the tears away he found a Dawnsider before him; an unkempt man with long, messy fur and a beard of grey that bisected his black mane. The helpless Penny whimpered softly as the man stepped closer, then climbed onto the pedestal itself. "Don't worry, they won't be back."
Skal's terrified eyes flicked to the man's right paw as it rose, revealing a lady's purple purse with a snapped leather strap. He made sure Skal saw it, then tossed it casually on the ground behind him. "Evil little shits, aren't they? Taking swings at helpless folk 'cause they'd never dare to try it with one that can fight back!"
"I... thank you," Skal whimpered. It seemed the safest answer.
The stranger nodded, "I've done a few stands myself, lad. Pay it forward, that's the rule." Then the dropped down and wandered away as if he hadn't a care in the world. He'd barely stepped out of view when the crying trio returned with an Enforcer escorting them. Skal turned away from them, fighting hard not to smile as the Enforcer found the purse and gave them a low, yet angry lecture on what happened to stupid little brats who wasted the Guild's time.
"You can stop smirking as well!" the Enforcer snapped at Skal when the women had gone. "I know for a fact that bag wasn't there when they left. You think it's funny?"
"Nosir!" Skal squeaked, his eyes wide and breathing suddenly frantic.
"Alright then." The Enforcer looked about for a while, and satisfied there was nothing else to do, he took his turn to step up on the pedestal. "You're Skal, right?"
"Yessir," the Penny boy answered quietly, wishing more than ever the ordeal was over.
"Thought so." he reached down and brought a hip flask into view. "Here, have a sip."
The water, what little of it he had, was a blessing given he'd been deprived of any kind of nourishment. The Enforcer met his eye, briefly, and then returned to his patrol of the Common as though nothing had happened. At last, Skal was able to breathe a sigh of relief, and his heart slowed enough that it was no-longer threatening to burst from his chest. He watched the Enforcer for as long as he could, taking comfort in the knowledge that someone was looking out for him, but that solace was lost in under a minute. He was alone again, exposed and vulnerable, and he was left to dread how long until the next visitor came to torture him...

"If you want something in this life, you've gotta take it!" Basr cried, and Skal was one of the dozen who cheered in response. Basr was a big man in the Crew; an off-worlder, a black flag and dread pirate who'd come to Taviksaad to lay low for a while. His fur was darker than most Dawnsiders, and he had a deeper voice than most. He didn't so much speak as growl, like an animal taught to mimic Kyyreni speech. "The trick is to take a little at a time. That's why everyone skims, see? You cut a man's throat for the coin in his pocket, Es will come to crack skulls. Take a little bit, enough for a bite or a bottle, and they'll shrug it off as not worth their time. The game is knowing how to handle people, you hear? But how is the Crew gonna handle people who step up and swing at us?"
He produced a knife with a flourish and pointed it towards Skal. "The man who cut you, you know where he lives?"
Skal nodded. The cut on his cheek was raw and throbbing, and large enough to need a few stitches. "He lives right on the edge of Merchant. Just inside of Unfer's territory."
Basr gave a guttural curse that made his thoughts on Unfer and his gang obvious. A ripple of laughter spread through the Crew. "You and I are going to go have a word with our would-be hero. If Unfer takes issue, I'll explain things to him."
With just a brief pause to issue a few orders, Basr led Skal out of their residence and out into the streets. The pair wore matching orange jackets, a remnant of the Co-op. They were sturdy, hard-wearing garments with plenty of pockets inside and out. A useful trait for thieving. Skal fell into step behind the senior ganger, and as they walked he tried his best to imitate the older man's movements. At twenty-five, Basr seemed to have the whole galaxy figured out; everything he did was precise and purposeful, and nothing ever seemed to concern him at all. He would stride right past an Enforcer like they were any other Thrall. He even grinned at them sometimes as if to say "you know what I am, and you don't dare touch me!". Skal wanted to be like Basr more than anything.
They found the house easily enough. Skal had watched the shopkeeper long enough to know the house's location, but by a stroke of luck they caught the man as he was heading out. He had his wife and two young boys with him. "What do we do?" Skal asked as the pair watched from the corner of the street.
"What do you mean?" Basr asked before taking a second look. With a mocking laugh he asked, "Are you scared of his pups or something?"
"No! I just-"
Basr rounded on him and scoffed. "Just follow me and try to look tough."
The gangers approached their prey from behind, moving quickly to close the distance. Basr slowed as they drew near and Skal mirrored him, so that the family had crossed out of Merchant via the south entrance and turned east towards Vices when Basr made his move. He hurried forwards with both hands in his pockets, and Skal's heart hammered as his own paw closed on the knife in his jacket. "Hey there, friend!" Basr called, and all four of the Dawnsiders turned towards him. The merchant's eye flicked from Basr to Skal, and a look of fear swept over him.
"You and I need to have a talk about what happened at your store," Basr continued, taking a moment to look both children in the eye and grin at them. They were six years old at most.
"Back away! I'm armed!" the merchant snapped, and he reached for his belt. In the blink of an eye, Basr had a knife resting on his muzzle, the blade's tip aimed at the man's left eye.
"Let's all be calm," Basr growled over the wife's frightened shriek. "Hands away from your belt, there's a good lad. Now first, I owe you an apology; young Skal here was reckless, and a little greedy. Him and his pals took more than their share, and that's on me. It's disrespectful to run off with the whole register, am I right? Normally I'd make the silly pup apologise and give some of the money back, but he's not the only one at fault. You gave him a nasty mark..."
"Please, just let my family go. It's me you want!"
Basr gave a sigh in response. He pulled the knife away from the merchant's face and said, "Oh, you're making this worse by the minute! This'd be so much easier if you were a selfish prick! I'd have just taken an eye out and walked away smiling! But no, you had to be a good man..."
Lightning quick, the ganger lunged at one of the children, grabbing the youth and flinging him toward Skal so fast that by the time anyone cried out or tried to stop him the boy was in Skal's grip. Basr's knife danced toward both parents, warning them off from any attempt at rescue. "You hurt one of my lads, and you're willing to be hurt in kind for it. That means the only real way to make you learn is to hurt someone you care about. Skal, mark the boy. Mark him the way you were marked."
Skal drew the knife from his pocket. The youth squirmed and cried in his grip, and the pleas made him sick to his stomach. He had no desire to hurt a kid, but while he soul-searched over what to do he caught Basr's eye, and he had no doubts what awaited him if he refused. The blade flashed, and Skal let the boy run shrieking back to his parents.
"Blood for blood, a debt paid," Basr announced as he began to back away. "If you're smart, this'll be the end of it. If I have to come looking for you again, well, there's plenty of fates worse than death a little boy could suffer." His point made, he smacked Skal on the chest and turned away, smiling to himself as they strolled home as if nothing had happened.
"It bothered you, didn't it? Cutting the cub?" Basr asked as they reached Outer Tenements once more.
"I... yeah, it did," Skal answered meekly. To his surprise, Basr seemed almost sympathetic.
"I get it, I do. You've got rules. A code, if you like, and hurting the little 'uns ain't part of the code. Thing is, Skal, honour's nothing without reputation. You know why people admire the Lords for their honour? Because those bastards could cut their way through a dozen lesser men with their eyes closed. You praise a stone-cold killer for being polite because you never want to see him otherwise, get me?"
"I guess," Skal replied. "Listen, Basr, I need to run. Got to see my mother."
The older Kyyreni snickered at the confession. "Running to mommy to get your ouchie kissed better? Fuck's sake! There's another thing you ought to do; get gone from your blood. The Crew is all the family you need, hear me?"
"I-" he began, but Basr cut him off instantly.
"Does your mother know what you do? Are you gonna tell her how you got that cut, or what we did today? No! You're gonna lie to her, tell her some sad little story so her poor ol' heart don't give out. Yeah, I had a mother once, and her going with the Shepherd was the best thing that ever happened to me. It freed me to be a man, get me? Ghost her, Skal. Best for everyone."
The idea left a sour taste in his mouth. Basr must have seen the young man's reaction as he rolled his eyes and dismissed the younger ganger with a flick of his paw. Sighing with relief, Skal turned towards his mother's house and set off at a trot. When he arrived, he could smell Mada's tar-smoke lingering on the threshold, and there were several stubbed-out butts in the planter by the door. She'd been here a lot lately.
He was welcomed with the usual enthusiasm. His mother was dressed in a thin, sleeveless top with a broad neck that allowed her brown markings to show, but it also revealed a woman who was worryingly thin, with her skin and fur contoured to match the position of her bones. "Mum, are you okay?" Skal asked as they embraced. He could feel her spine beneath his paws.
"Never mind me, what happened to you?" Ayjr asked, clutching her boy's face and turning it to better see the cut. "Someone attacked you?"
Skal squirmed out of her grip as quickly as he could, waving her away. "Just some drunk idiot at Vices! Mum, I'm fine, but you look awful!"
"Oh don't you start! I've had Mada haranguing me all bloody morning! I'll see the doctor first chance I get, but it's a waste of time! It's just a stomach bug that won't shift! Come on in, have a seat and I'll get you a drink."
Skal did as he was told. He took up his usual spot on the guest sofa, chewing his lip with fret until his mother appeared with a small bottle of ale for him. He took it from her and watched as she eased down into her chair, moaning in discomfort all the while. Skal opened his mouth to speak, but his mother cut in, "I'm surprised those friends of yours weren't looking out for you. Isn't that what friends are meant to do?"
His paw moved to cover the cut. "They didn't do this, if that's what you're thinking."
"Never said I was, but I have said they're no good for you. Many times, in fact."
The young man barred his teeth. "Mum, I really don't want to argue about this. I..." he wanted to offer to move back in with her, but Basr's face loomed in his mind. Nothing good would come of crossing him. Skal's gut said he was on watch now; he'd caused trouble for the higher-ups in the gang, and he was getting a bad reputation. Making that worse could put his hide in jeopardy, or worse, put his family in the firing line. He realised the silence was dragging on. "I don't like Aunt Mada smoking around here. That's probably what got you sick to begin with. Can you tell her not to?"
His mother chuckled at the request. "Oh no problem, love! And when I've done that I'll ask the sun to shine green!"
"Well if that's how you're going to be I'll not bother trying to help you anymore," he snarked back with a playful, if forced grin. His mother smiled back at him as the fingers of her right paw massaged the leather of the sofa beside her, wordlessly inviting him to sit closer. He hid behind his drink, swigging as an excuse not to speak until she turned her attention back to her puzzle book, and they fell into a familiar, if stiff silence.

By the afternoon, Skal's suffering had become truly unbearable, but he had no choice save to bear it. It wasn't just the ache of fatigue, having stood so long that his arms and legs were going numb, but it was the hunger. It felt like he hadn't eaten in days, and the scent of the food carts was driving him mad. Passersby clearly knew of his needs, as more than once a passing Kyyreni would stop and torment him by holding their meals up to his nose and filling his senses with the hot, spicy scent. One young Daysider stood in front of him and made a show of eating, chewing theatrically and purring with delight at how wonderful his meatballs were. When he was done, he threw the little tray at Skal, splattering hot sauce all over his chest.
He began to weep again. He clenched his eyes shut and begged for mercy, whispering a prayer first to Vorhol, then to Risik, then to anyone who was listening, and finally to Kadan directly. Neither gods nor mortals answered him.
Images of Udum's classroom formed in his mind. He longed to be there now, sat with his friends and enjoying his meal. He normally found his lunches to be bland affairs, usually home-made sandwiches made with cheap products, or a ration-bar if neither Kadan or Kas had gone shopping recently. His friends always had such enticing meals. He recalled the pasta nests Hafn and Ros had on the last day; crisp and crunchy, with round, hard-boiled eggs resting on a bed of diced vegetables and sprinked with a sweet and salty glaze. Time, effort and love had gone into those meals to make something fit for fine dining, and they were in the lunchboxes of criminals.
The sharp, angry twisting of his stomach took his breath away and he desperately tried to think of something else, but there were few topics he could find refuge in to save his mind from the hunger pains. Certainly not the past, be it recent or distant. His old life kept coming to him like a waking dream, forcing him to relive days he wanted to pretend never existed. He clenched his paws and tried to imagine the comforting weight of his mother's ring against his palm, or resting upon his chest, but neither would come. As if sensing his need for her, another memory surface, and Skal could only weep as old wounds opened again...

Skal had spent the morning running errands, mostly moving stolen goods through the old service tunnels from the Crew's storerooms to a trusted fencer, then bringing the coin back to the banker. The task was beneath him, and he knew it. He also knew exactly why he was doing it, but he didn't much care. He got the job done with time to spare, grabbed lunch to go from a street cafe and ate on the move as he made his way toward the hospital. His mother had gone in yesterday, but he hadn't been able to see her due to visiting hours.
The building was brand new, but surrounded by an old red-brick wall that still bore the name "Gandyr Textiles". He followed the wall with one eye always on its rim in the hope he'd find a place to hop it and cut some of the trip, and that may have been why he failed to notice Basr until the ganger stepped out to block his path.
"Taking the scenic route home?" the man asked with false friendliness. Skal froze at the question as he desperately tried to create an answer, but the man chose not to wait. "I've told you before about this. I've made it clear you need to cut ties with those who aren't with us, and yet here you are."
"My mother's sick, damn it!" Skal barked, but his words carried no weight.
"Then save her a little heartache, because if you don't grow the fuck up right now I'm going to have to go in there and tell her someone cut her little boy's fucking throat!" Basr's eyes flared with fury and Skal staggered backwards as if struck. He closed his eyes and shook away the rage, speaking in a softer, calmer tone. "You're what, sixteen now? Seventeen this Birthing? A lad your age with your wits should be up and coming! No offense to the lads you pal around with, but they're just bodies. They do what they're told and they take their cut, and they've no plan for the future beyond where the next high might be found. But you? If you aren't running the Crew by twenty then you have failed at life, and I mean it when I say you could."
"What are you trying to say? You think you're doing me a favour here?"
"I am, and you know it. Do you see me wasting my time on the piss-heads and the dick-wavers? Did you not once ask why I kept asking you along on the big jobs? I'm trying to make a man out of you, Skal! By the Gods, it's overdue! You're a child in an adult's body, and that's all you'll ever be until you get off your mother's teat. You gotta walk away now, and I'm not asking this time."
Skal glanced from Basr's cold stare to the hospital building. He counted the windows until he found the fifth floor, and what might have been his mother's room. He wanted a sign - her face, or Aunt Mada, or something placed in view to tell him where he was. But there was nothing. He let his head drop, and Basr gave him a gentle push to turn him around. "Come on home, lad. Have a drink with me, and you'll soon forget you ever had another family."

By the afternoon, Skal had managed to sleep. It wasn't true sleep, but it was close enough that time passed more quickly and his exhaustion lessened to mere painful fatigue. Dried sauce and other food products clung to his fur, leaving him feeling dirty. He had long since grown numb to the irregular shouts and mocking taunts of those who felt inclined to heckle him. The boy felt broken, physically and mentally, and he had neither the strength nor the will to fight against his confinement. Lost in this miserable torpor, he barely registered the arrival of two Enforcers until he was pulled free of the pillory. "He's all yours," one said, and Skal was hoisted off his feet and carried out of the square.
"Kadan?" he rasped, his throat burning with thirst.
His master shushed him until they reached a waiting car. He was steered into the back seat and Kadan sat beside him, offering water and a tube of meaty paste meant as sandwich filler. The boy practically inhaled it, glad of something he could eat with so little effort. "You need a bath," the Corrector-Captain grumbled, but his Penny charge didn't seem to hear. As soon as Skal had consumed his ration he slumped against Kadan's sighed, breathing in heavy, pained breaths, and drifted into a troubled sleep.
He woke again inside of a public baths. Groggy and confused, he mumbled a few incoherent questions that went unanswered before being carried into a private room. Warm, scented water awaited him, along with the careful touch of a young Dawnsider who tutted and mumbled to himself at the state of the boy's fur. Compared to the throbbing ache in his limbs, the occasional plucked strand of fur as he was cleaned seemed inconsequential.
As he lounged in the warm, steaming water, Skal was almost lulled back to sleep but for an unwelcome jolt of memory. He grimaced, which the two adults assumed to be physical discomfort, and turned his eye towards his master. "Kadan? I... I want to see my family. Please?"
"What family?" Kadan asked.
"I have an aunt. I think she still lives at apartment 1, 03-173 Inner Tenements. Please can I see her?"
"I don't think that's wise," Kadan answered, and he saw how anguished his charge became at the answer. "But I can look her up, see if she's still there, and get in touch."
"No! I need to see her today!" Skal wailed, whimpering as he tried to get up from his splayed-out position and sending surges of hot pain through his body, as well as earning cross words from the groomer. "Please Kadan, this is really important to me! I have to do this!"
"Hey! Pipe down and let the man finish!" the Enforcer snarled, and Skal obeyed with a sad little sob. "Gods... fine. When we're done here I will take you to see your aunt, assuming she lives where you think she does. But if she's not there we aren't wasting time looking around. Now keep still."
When he was finally scrubbed to Kadan's satisfaction, Skal was allowed to dress before being led back to the car and provided with more food and water. The biggest relief came from the presence of the lifering pendent, which Skal clung to tightly. Kadan gave their driver the address and they set off for Inner Tenements, arriving via the north. It was primarily residential as the name suggested, but for the sake of convenience a variety of businesses operated there, mostly focused on food, household goods and entertainment. The buildings were of good quality and stood out primarily due to eccentricities of design; being the first district built with permanence in mind, Inner Tenements had become a testing ground for aspiring architects as the colony took shape. You could see its influence all across The City, although many of the more eclectic designs lost favour with the residence, who cared little about design awards and simply wanted a comfortable place to live. Skal recalled one such design being opposite his aunt's house; triangular buildings split into two apartments each. The back roof of these buildings sloped so steeply that the upper residence had to be spread vertically across two floors, while the lower one sprawled out backward from the street. The boy looked for the houses as they drew near, but the lots were bordered by chain-link fences that bore artwork of far less memorable five-bedroom homes.
Skal gave a little grunt of discomfort as he was helped from the back seat. The inactivity of the ride had caused his limbs to seize up and he groaned like an old man as he tried to coax his muscles into motion. With their driver idling, the Penny boy was poked into motion and hurried towards a familiar green door, bearing the address in silver letters and numerals. There was also a dent just below the decorative glassware caused by a hurled stone. Skal knew that because he'd been the hurler. Kadan knocked for him before taking a step back and clasping his paws above his tail, allowing the Penny to take centre stage.
It was both thrilling and terrifying for Skal to see the woman who opened the door. She looked older than he remembered, having aged rapidly upon entering her forties, but there was no mistaking the miasma of tar-smoke that clung to her and discoloured her nails. "Yes? Can I help you?" Aunt Mada asked Kadan, apparently not noticing the boy before her.
"Auntie? It's me, Skal," the boy said nervously, his right paw still closed protectively around the lifering.
Mada looked down in surprise, which swiftly gave way to anger. It was unpleasant how similar to his mother Mada looked when furious. "Skal? Ayjr's Skal? Oh well, that's all I need! Let me guess, he's been made a Penny and you expect me to take him in?"
A subtle growl rippled inside Kadan's throat, missed by Mada but painfully loud to Skal's trained ear. "No, he's my charge. I brought him here because he wanted to speak to you."
"Well I have nothing to say to him!" Mada countered crossly.
"Auntie, please-" Skal began, only to be shot a furious snarl in return.
"Oh don't you dare 'auntie' me! You made your choice a long, long time ago! Did you think you could just waltz back into our family after ignoring your mother when she needed you? You didn't even bother to come to the funeral!"
"Stop!" Skal wailed, sobbing openly in grief at his aunt's tongue-lashing. His uncle and cousins had been drawn in by the shouting, but were swiftly dismissed by Mada, who intended to handle things herself. The interruption bought Skal time to compose a little. "I wanted to be there, aunt Mada. I really did! But... I was s-scared of the people I fell in with. I know it s-sounds stupid, but I didn't know how bad they were until... until it was t-t-too late!"
As Mada riled herself up for another scolding, Kadan calmly interrupted. "For what it's worth ma'am, a lot of these gangs keep their members loyal with threats against family or friends. It's easy enough for a professional criminal to acquire information from young, impressionable lads and trap them in the gang."
The woman considered the statement, her tail twitching as she weighed up how to react. "Well... I know that's not the case with him! He was happy to turn up when his mother was healthy!"
"The really b-bad ones di'n't come till she got sick!" Skal whimpered, pausing to wipe his eyes. "But... they're why I stayed away when she was sick. When I found out she'd died... it broke me, aunt Mada! I didn't come to the funeral because I didn't want to admit she'd died! I t-t-told myself she w-w-was still ali-ive at ho-o-ome!"
The boy bent double, gut-punched by his confession, and to his surprise Mada knelt down to hold him as he bawled. His apologies and begging cries for forgiveness were gibberish, but she seemed to understand the meaning behind it. "You are a stupid little sod, Skal... but Ayjr loved you. She didn't care what you were doing, and yes, she knew about the gang. You really think your lies fooled her? That didn't matter to her. You were always her little boy, and she'd have forgiven you in a heartbeat if you'd come clean. She was asking for you right up until the end." Those final words made Skal wail all the more.
With a pained huff, Mada released the tearful rejuve. "I'm afraid it's not so easy for me, Skal. You have a lot to answer for, and I damn well hope it hurts! Maybe... maybe when you've served your time we can talk about you coming back, but not now. Not yet."
"I un'stan'," Skal sniffled. The stress of the confession had left him shaking.
"Well then..." Mada paused as her eyes were drawn to the boy's chest. "Is that her life ring? Blood and Iron!"
Skal clutched the charm protectively, backing away until he bumped against Kadan's legs. "I wear it for her! To remind me to be better! So she's with me and can see that I'm not who I was!" he said desperately.
Mada shook her head in a slow, weary motion. "Gods know you can't be expected to understand something as basic as proper respect for the dead... fine, keep it. Maybe, just maybe, having her final prayer upon your chest might just fix that blackened little heart of yours. I'd like you to leave now, and don't hurry back."
With a timid goodbye, Skal turned away and walked unsteadily towards the car. He was quiet on the ride home, which he spent perched on Kadan's lap with his head against his master's chest. "Still alive?" Kadan asked quietly, but got no reply. After a pause, he tried again. "It... must have been difficult, her rejecting you like that. For what it's worth, I really hoped she'd accept you." This too went ignored, and he decided it was best to leave the boy to his thoughts. It was only when they reached home and their driver was dismissed that Skal found his voice again.
"I've never been very good at losing people," the Penny said softly.
"No. Nor have I," Kadan answered as they headed up the steps towards their home.
The boy paused on the walkway outside their door and Kadan followed his gaze. In the concrete courtyard below a pair of Dawnsider boys were playing keep-up with a leather ball, shouting excitedly as they neared or broke their personal bests. "I want a family," he said at last. "Not a fake family like the gang, or-" he paused, flinching at the realisation of what he was saying.
Kadan turned to unlock the door. "I know what you want, but you heard your aunt. Come on inside, you need to rest."
"Okay," Skal sighed as he fell in behind his master. It was hard to deny the appeal of a soft, warm bed to sleep in, even if it was still early. Kadan helped the boy undress and eased him into the sheets. Sleep came almost instantly, but it was broken when a paw roughly shook him awake. A glance at the clock told him he'd only been asleep for a little over an hour, and a glance was all he could spare as Kadan shook him again. The man reeked of spirits.
"Skal," he began as he sat on the bed beside the boy. He took a moment to examine the bottle in his right paw, and when a curious rattle revealed it was empty he let it drop and roll away. "I had something I wanted to say to you. I... I can't say I remember much about my father, my blood father that is, and my mother sold me so it's hard to care about what happened to her. But that doesn't mean I don't know how much it hurts to lose a parent, because I had one. There was a man within the Guild who was always there for me, who raised me and who, for some reason I've never understood, became convinced that I was worth something. Losing him..." the captain sighed mournfully and fell silent.
After a minute or two of quiet, Kadan stood up and turned to face Skal, who lay with his eyes open, peering up at him from the little cocoon he'd made from the sheets. "The only thing I've ever been good at is hurting people, and I'm good at it. Get good enough at it and you can go a long way in life just because nobody dares to tell you 'no'. But it means I'm not good at being a leader. I've never been a good captain; I only got this far because I had other people to handle all the... the parts that don't involve breaking skulls. People owe me their lives and so they look past all the problems... they turned a blind eye to things..."
Skal shuffled up into a cross-legged sitting position. "Why did you take me in?" he asked.
Kadan gave a frustrated grunt at the question. "I... I had lost my father, and I couldn't come to terms with that. It left me with a rage I hadn't felt in years, and I hated myself more than anyone because there was nothing I could have done to save him. So I did what I always do; I spread the misery around. I honestly thought having you as a punching bag would make me feel better about myself, but it never did. I just found something new to hate about myself. I know you know what that feels like."
Skal nodded. His voice trembled as he spoke, "You make a choice, and it's the wrong choice. Then you realise you can never go back and fix it, and everything you try makes things worse..." he trailed off into a dry, shaking sob.
The boy watched as his master knelt down by the bed and placed a paw on his knee. "I know what you want, Skal. I know because Kas wants the same thing. I'm not stupid. But I know exactly the kind of man I am, and I know I should never have taken you in, either of you. The longer you stay here the worse it's going to get. It's better for both of you that I find somewhere else for you to live. It's... it's not fair that you have to live in fear of me coming home drunk... or drinking here..."
Skal looked into Kadan's dilated eyes, blinking away a tear. His voice was barely a whisper when he spoke. "Please don't send me away, dad."
Kadan clenched his eyes shut, and a moment later buried his head in his paw. He stayed there, frozen and breathing heavily for some time. Once his breathing calmed, he revealed his face once more and spoke softly, "you need to sleep now, you have school tomorrow. The day after, I'm arranging some lessons at the Guild. Then... then I'm going to do something I'll regret, like find a new place to live, because this place is too damn small for the three of us as it is. Hey!" he cried out as Skal threw himself off the bed and latched his arms around Kadan's neck. The captain gave the boy the affection he clearly longed for, allowing him a minute of comfort before making him return to bed. "This... I haven't got the head for this tonight. Just go to sleep now and I'll make sure Kas gets you up in the morning. I'm... goodnight. Goodnight... goodnight."
"Night," Skal replied, watching Kadan shuffle out of his own bedroom with little dignity. He couldn't help but smile over the words left unsaid. Tomorrow would be hard, the day after might be worse, but then... then came the promise of a new beginning. A rebirth, at last.