Bariyan honestly had a hard time believing it, given what he'd seen, what he'd heard, what he'd seen of Martin Darkov in earlier months. And that showed on his face, in the helpless twist of his frown, the set of his shoulders. Though that tension only lasted a moment before he sighed and reached to scratch at the back of his neck.

There had to be good there. There had to be, because it showed in Martin. Even in what he'd been before. The boy had hardly lived in a void; someone had influenced him to become the way he was. His world had let the bad take root, yes, encouraged it, but it was just as responsible for the good in him as well. And Bariyan believed in that over all else.

He nodded. "I will believe."

Then, gently, not knowing whether it was a good time to breach the topic-- "Your sister, then. Is she all right?"