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One of the wives began to pray, holding three black-haired children close. The fourth child, who stood at his father’s side, edging nearer for warmth, was elbowed away.
    Aardanel was no place for love.
    â€œWell, priest?” the man asked, glaring at Kerrus. “What words of comfort have you got for us? What’ve you got to say t’ convince us this situation’s less of a feck-all than it looks?”
    Kerrus shrugged. “Nothing. It is a feck-all of a situation you’re in, and there’s nothing I can say to make it any different. You chose to come here, knowing what this place is, and I won’t tell you lies to warm your hearts. It’s been called hell, and I can’t imagine any of the real hells being too much different.” The women were crying again, and the one had stoppedher praying. There was little enough kindness left in Parro Kerrus’s heart, little room for sympathy, for comfort. He’d been here too long, seen too much.
    Aardanel was no place for hope.
    â€œYou’ll each be assigned a duty—everyone does their part here. The wardens will give you yours, and show you to your huts. My hut is right next door here, if you need to talk, need advice, need anything. I hold prayer every eightday, but the chapel is always open. The best advice I can give you now is to keep your heads down, keep the Parents in your heart, and make the best of the choices you’ve made. It’s scant comfort, but it’s the most you’re like to find here.” Yes, Kerrus always took it upon himself to help the newcomers adjust to life in Aardanel. To teach them as quick as possible that it was a heartless and unforgiving life they’d put themselves in. “Now, if I may, I would like to speak to the children. You may wait for them outside, or the wardens can show you to your huts, and I will return them to you.”
    â€œWhy?” the mother of the three demanded, holding them all closer. The father walked to the door without a backward glance, leaving his son huddled by the everflame.
    â€œChildren have an especially hard time adjusting to life in Aardanel. I would speak to them, put them somewhat at ease.”
    The childless wife snorted. “Aye, you’ve a real talent for that,” and she followed the father out the door.
    â€œI ask only a moment,” Kerrus assured the mother, who clung still to the last familiar things in her quickly changing life. But finally she released them, handing the smallest to the oldest and heading out the door with a last, suspicious glance at the parro.
    With popping joints Kerrus lowered himself onto the ground, sitting near the everflame. “My children,” he said softly, looking at them each in turn, “I wish I were not speaking to you right now, for it would mean you were not here.” He reached into a pocket and produced a handful of sweets. The children grabbed for them eagerly, eyes bright, as though they hadn’t seen food in days. As though they hadn’t seen kindness in years. He sighed. “What I said to your parents is true. This is not a pleasant home, and it will not be an easy life. You are innocents, brought here by the choices of others, and for that I am sorry. But know that Metherra still holds you close in her heart, that Patharro still shields your back. I will watch over you, do all that I may to see you each safe and comfortable. If you have need of anything, I beg you, ask me and I will do what I can. Aardanel is no place for children, but I would see that your lives are made as good as they can be.” He handed out another sweet to each, murmured a brief prayer. “Be on your way now, children. Keep the Parents’ kindness in your hearts.”
    The three black-haired children fled, their cheeks bulging with the sweets. The youngest was sniffling, her nose running, death a shadow on her pale cheeks. She would go to the flames, and soon, too, Kerrus