Correction

Tirva sat in his chair as the boy cried beside him. The sound strangely didn't irritate him, nor did it upset him. No malice or cruelty was here, the boy needed consoling, but he also needed to cry.

Tirva's datapad sat idly on the table as he dwelled on Master Sarain's words. The boy has lost his family, just as Tirva had as a boy, no longer confined to the walls of his first home. Every boy had to grieve for his family at some point, in some way or another, only this time it was Tirva's fault.

Needless deaths. All because he was too underhanded to ask an apparent friend, he knew though, that the answers he had found were nothing like the answers he would have been freely given.

Tirva turned to the boy who cradled a glass of ice water, he set his shisha pipe down and raised the child's chin with a gentle finger. He smiled and gestured to the boy to drink, who in turn merely looked at the strange man. He didn't know what was happening, alone, among strangers, in a place such as The Anahitan Clubhouse, this could be a nightmare to most children.

"I am TIrva, and your name will be Hemes..."