She shivers again, and her tears soak my shirt. Second woman this year to cry on me, and not for anything I did. That might actually be a first. "Not the night, not the dark. Like the dark." she says, and I smile, my hand still moving in a rhythmic caress through her hair. Her arms tighten around me, and I can feel her lips move against my skin. "The unbelieving, and the abominable, and murder-murderers - and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars."

Oh, yes, a cult. Spreading fear amongst its folk like some virulent plague. "Nothing to fear from them either, ninia," I say with a low chuckle. "Not when I'm here. You're safe with me." And that much is true. She's mine now, and woe to any that tries to hurt her. "Not that many of those you listed are anything to be afraid of. Whoremongers and Idolaters tend to concentrate on what they're doing, and liars have no power if you don't believe them. As for unbelievers..." I settle myself on her bed, drawing her little body into my lap, "That all depends on what you believe, doesn't it?"

She sighs, her tears subsiding. After a moment her grip loosens, though she doesn't let me go. Good. "The light's too bright to sleep and the curtains are on fire. Put them out."

"No fire, ninia," I smile, stroking my thumb down the line of her jaw. "No fire, and no light save the moon. The darkness is with you."