[Carillon]

... Seeing the children again was a strange joy. I found myself thinking of them often when I was in Spellgard, and I think they were part of the reason I made such haste to return. I find myself growing rather attached to them in a strange sort of way, and I think they have grown attached to me too. The older ones seem to look forward to my visits now, and one of the priests said they asked after me when I was away. I did tell them I was going, to be fair. I thought it best to warn them, as they have had enough cruel surprises in their short lives.

I think they are mending, slowly. It is so hard to tell, because it is such a gradual process and there is so much healing to be done. They still don't like to talk about it much, but every so often there's a little hint at how much they keep to themselves. The priests tell me they have nightmares from time to time and still have trouble falling asleep, but I haven't pushed them to talk about it. Finn and Rhiannon are especially reticent, in some ways. I suspect it's harder for them, being older. They don't want Lislea to see their fear or their weakness so it's never discussed. Their unspoken fears coalesce into a big dark demon that lurks in the shadowed corners of every room, watching silently over everything they do. Actually, that's almost how Lissa drew it, the one time she did: a great dark shape surrounded by smaller shapes. It wasn't until I asked her about it and she told me that they were the “bad men who killed mummy and daddy” that I noticed the little figures in the corner of the parchment. Even the smallest of the dark shapes was much bigger than the huddle of little stick people trying to scramble off the page.

I worry for them all, but I worry for Liam the most. Not that the other three don't have their own issues still. Lissa wants to be touched all the time, as if she is afraid of being alone. She seeks comfort wherever she can find it, even from near strangers. And Rhiannon has grown no less angry with the world, and Finn no more trusting of strangers. Liam is without doubt the most wounded, though. He still has not spoken, nor responded to anyone's attempts to communicate. What progress he makes is painfully slow and to strange eyes it must look like he hasn't changed at all, but he has. He does more than lie on his side now. He sits on his own. If you spoon food into his mouth, he will actually chew and swallow without prompting. Small measures of healing, but after fearing there was no hope at all they are like giant leaps and strides ...