“Quite. A little bit,” Kire replied, when Aeron made the observation about her age. She continued moving the lumber as instructed, ignoring the dull ache in her hands. His questions were difficult, but justified. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” she repeated after a long pause. She stopped in her work and looked down at the lad. [i]Earnest had been this small, once.[/i] She put her hands on her hips, mostly to stop herself from reaching out to the boy. As much as she felt the impulse to give him a reassuring hug, or a gently touch on the shoulder, she also knew it wasn’t her place. From the way he reacted to Zeke’s attempts at comfort, Aeron didn’t need to be pitied. 

“There are people who just want to take and take, and they don’t care who’s in the way. Empty inside, like their heart’s just a hole in their chest.” She let out a deep breath. “Some of them, they even enjoy it when others suffer. This man, he—” Kire frowned. “—his magic requires a lot of bad things to happen to other people. He needs that, for his forbidden magic, to make his dolls. But he also knows I care deeply for other people who are hurt like that. He knows I will be angry, and will look for him.”