They burnt the orphanage," he mummered while stroking the white kitten in his arms. He suddenly stopped stroking it and reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out a scroll. Setting the kitten down, he handed it the scroll with a small smile.

The feline seemed to know what to do; with a twitch of its ears, it ran away.

The wind blew through his hair as he knelt by the ashes hoping to find something- anything.

"Do not touch those," a voice whispered urgently, breaking him out of his reverie. He stared at the owner of the voice whose eyes held genuine concern, "Ne- er, The Emperor will have your head."

"What happened?" he asked, ignoring the warning as his fingers inched towards the ash.

When he realized she wouldn't answer, he placed his palm on the ash only for images of gasoline, fires, locked doors, and people- children to be specific- screaming. He frowned at the images.

"What happened?" he found himself asking for the second time that night.

"The people. Where are they?"

"They got burnt."