Such cries were answered verily as a priest, humble and pious, stepped forthwith with divine resolve into the cold snowfall that threatened to snuff the life out of the urchin that lay weeping before the twelve and their glory. The child looked up at the extended hand though his vision blurred with grief. “Fear not my child.” Spoke the priest who’s visage was hidden beneath sanctified cloth. “Cometh into their sacred halls. Taketh thy hand, and from your sorrow shall we bear her righteous fury"