Navir, Ardavan, Nimi, Torin, Sorvan and some other teens arranged themselves in a straight line in the compound of one of the communities' prominent individuals.
Bodies hovering horizontally against the sunbaked dirt, forearms braced, backs taut and elevated in a rigid plank. The older man stood over them, cane poised in his hand, shadow stretching across their strained limbs, the nearby power grid humming as if it too waited for what was about to happen.
"You were seen near the control room," an older man said, voice flat. "Hours before the outage."
Navir lifted his chin. "We were on the field. Playing."
"Next to the grid," the man replied.
Nimi shook her head. "That doesn't mean we touched it."
A spark from the grid glowed in the evening sun.
Sorvan's jaw tightened. "The lock was already loose."
"Obviously." Torin scoffed. "Hey… If proximity is guilt, then the birds should also be punished." He added
An elder clicked his tongue.
Whack!
A rod landed on his back.
"Ah!" Torin screamed, hushed, voice low.
Silence followed.
"You boys were irresponsible," the elder said. "Carelessness invites damage."
"We didn't go anywhere near it," Nimi said, voice cracking.
The older man pointed at the ground. "Lie flat."
Navir hesitated. A cane struck the dirt beside his foot.
"Now."
They obeyed. Dust pressed into their faces. Heat clung to their backs.
Torin muttered, "At least it's familiar ground."
The first strike landed.
Air left Navir's lungs.
His red eyes burned. His jaw tightening in restraint.
Trying not to disrespect the elderly man.
"Count," the elder ordered, voice ruff.
Sorvan whispered through clenched teeth, "This isn't fair."
Another blow fell. The compound listened.
The elder's hand raised, cane glinting in the dimming light. "Pain," he said, voice flat, "forges the steel of character."
Navir's forearms burned, dust clinging to his sweat-slicked skin.
He gritted his jaw, eyes darting to Ardavan as the elder's cane lifted from his back and landed sharply on Ardavan's back.
Ardavan flinched but held steady, muscles taut, only for the cane to snap down again, this time striking Torin.
Whack!
"Yelp!"
Whack!
"Ah!"
Whack!
"Ow!"
Torin muffled and wincing, yet a smirk flickered across his face.
The rhythm shifted, the elder's hand moving from one to the next with cold precision, each strike a calculated lesson in pain and obedience.
Torin grinned, voice cutting through the heavy air. "I think my back just discovered a new definition of enlightenment."
A soft laugh rippled from a few teens, quickly swallowed by the elders' sharp gazes.
The elder's frown deepened.
Whack!
"Ow!"
Torin shrugged, undeterred. "Well, if wisdom comes from pain," he muttered, wriggling under the next strike, "then Argathes must be the smartest in the world."
The group of teens in line for punishment giggled. Temporarily oblivious to the tense situation they were in.
Navir's arms throbbed, body tense, yet his mind raced. Each lash wasn't just punishment, it was control over thought, a silent message of power.
One of the teens whispered under his breath, "He wants to break us…"
Torin snorted quietly. "Well good luck with that."
Navir's eyes flicked to the others. Some stifled laughter, others clenched their teeth, yet even in compliance, whispers of defiance lingered.
The first cracks in Argathe authority were beginning to show.
Across the street, in the soft amber glow of late afternoon, a group of Luho foreigners strolled casually.
Ash-colored skin seemed muted under the sinking sun, diamond-bright eyes glinting like shards of ice, midnight-blue hair catching the last light.
They spoke and giggled lightly, a stark contrast to the tense compound.
Then the eldest among them barked, voice cutting like a whip through the fading warmth: "What are you doing!?"
The laughter died instantly.
The flogging stopped.
Shadows stretched long across the street, and a hush fell over the teens as all eyes snapped to the old man, the evening light casting his angular features in sharp relief.
Navir sighed.
So did Torin.
"Oh! What a relief." He exhaled
A sharp hum from the nearby power grid followed a spark, echoing the tension.