Author's note: Timeline: ancient Gallifrey, under the rule of the Pythia

Dukkha thought they were all babies. The boy called Anicca squatted in a corner with his face buried against his knees, rocking and snivelling. The girl called Anatta leaned sullenly against a wall, arms crossed across her chest. Tiny flames danced in the pupils of her eyes.

"I want to go back. I don't like it here," Anicca moaned. Useless.

Anatta sneered, eyes squinted in suspicion. She didn't bother speaking aloud, but her thoughts kept up a silent chant of, Boring, boring, boring.

They were all soft, especially the matronly Sister smiling at the trio. Her presence felt like a clingy, warm blanket wrapped around them and shielding them from the cold outside world. She explained what they already knew, that they were all mud orphans: children who had lost their old families and couldn't find new ones due to their tainted, god-touched psyches. Shanir Houses did exist among the minor families, but they were insular and particular about bloodlines. Dukkha's House, Barax-Sulding, had been like that to the end.

"But there's a place for you here, a chance to belong," said the Sister.

"I had a place," muttered Dukkha. A short-lived, fragile acceptance by a new lord, lasting until Dukkha had revealed too much. Next time, they would not be so careless.

"You were a yondri-gon, dear. You were never going to be allowed across the threshold, never going to be a part of their Family."

Anatta rolled her eyes, thoughts exuding indifference. Spare us the pitch, you bloated old bat.

The Sister smiled with infinite patience at Anatta. "All the adventure and comestibles one could wish for, that's what we're offering."

You want us to kill for you. Dukkha's thoughts were like ice.

"Anyone can kill," said the Sister. "Her Highness requires agents with more finesse."

"And that's us, is it?" scoffed Anatta.

"You are special, each of you. That's why you were chosen."

It was so obvious, thought Dukkha. Only a fool would fall for it. A desperate fool. But they were babies. And desperate.

The snivelling boy finally lifted his face, jaw slack. "Chosen? You... you want us?"

The first crack in the wall. But in the end, all three of them drowned in the enveloping warmth and sincere welcome radiating from the Sister. Lost in the promise of home.

This is where you belong.