The oil lamps flicker once then splutter out. Oil collects on the floor as the ominous sound of dripping continues. Jorif and I flinch because we know that even in the darkness, the unfaltering gazes of the Elders are still on us. We wait, trembling, until the oldest Elder speaks, “Since you violated Rule #356 in the Rule book you are forever banished from the NightHands society.” I concentrate on this one sentence for a long time. But a sharp, whiny voice pierces through my concentration and shatters it immediately. “Well? Get out!” It was the voice of the only Elder who wasn’t old. It might seem like an honor to have the authority and power of an Elder when you are only 34. But it is because he is a selfish and greedy man. There was no choice, all citizens of the NightHands society have to do some sort of work and Reribrov wouldn’t accept any other position.
A sharp kick in the side is enough for me. I scurry outside wishing I had an umbrella to shield myself from the pouring rain. Hesitantly I look back just in time to see Jorif splash onto the sidewalk next to me. We silently look at each other, get up, and move in synchronization down the street.

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