Danica slept the night away and most of the morning as well. By the time she awoke, the sun was at its highest point in the sky, and her head ached severely. She took a few bitter herbs to deal with it and drank some water to wash the horrid taste away. Slowly the pain behind her eyes subsided, but she was still far from feeling like she could face the day ahead.

Landon would be awake, but she didn’t want to see him at the moment. They’d been consoling each other for the last couple of days and she felt as if they both needed some time alone to heal. He’d need to get back to work now that Norport’s famous serial murderer was dead.

What did she have left to do now?

Danica went into her daily exercise routine, still miserable from the dull ache of cracked ribs and that nasty wound in her shoulder. Fennor had warned of a possibility for infection to set in as that hook was rather filthy. She could at least be thankful the damage hadn’t been as crippling as the one he’d inflicted on her leg the first time they’d met.

Finishing up and then cleaning off, she thought briefly about going to the kitchens for something to eat. Danica shook her head and dismissed the thought. It was just too soon still. They’d have something ready and she could eat whatever she liked, but it just felt so odd knowing she’d walk in there and not find Angela there anymore. Nothing seemed to feel right at the moment.

She grabbed a small pouch containing a silver and a small handful of copper, then left the barracks. There would be vendors selling food within the city and she could just as easily grab something to eat out there. It wasn’t often she went out into public during the day anyways. This may be something she could do to help clear up her mind from the recent events that had transpired.

She went to the market district and purchased a bun that had been stuffed with lamb and cheese while cooking. It was greasy, and definitely something she wasn’t used to eating, but it wasn’t too bad if she were being honest about it. She sat on the green space, thinking of the woman who’d been murdered there while slowly eating. Not wanting to waste good food, a habit she’d learned as a young girl and still clung to, she stored the leftovers away for later.

There’d been something constantly nagging in her mind anyways ever since she talked to that old preacher in Yeville. Not so far away sat a small church dedicated to the god of light. For obvious reasons, she hadn’t wanted to ever deal with the religious goings on within the city. His words to her about how corrupt it had become and his kindness had really made her kind of curious to see things for herself though.

The outside of the building’s base was made with stone blocks, carefully carved and inlaid to fit against one another using very little mortar. The upper part was thick wood, constantly oiled to protect it against the harsh elements. It shone golden in the light of day, making it stand out amongst all the surrounding structures. She had no idea on how they’d managed that look, but it was probably expensive to maintain.

Through the sizable oak doors she went and found herself standing inside a rather large room. It was beautifully decorated with art works and tapestries hanging on the walls. The scent of burning incense wafted strongly through the air, somewhat unpleasant in its heaviness. Rows of padded benches ran the length of the room, all leading up to a raised platform where the priest could give his sermon and be seen by all.

She’d barely had time to look around when a middle aged man in white robes ran up to her. “You need to leave. Now.”

She looked over at him, somewhat annoyed at the rudeness. “Why?”

He huffed in indignation. “You know why. Now leave before I call the city guard to haul you out.”

By now other people had stopped what they were doing to stare at what was happening. They’d certainly not expected the dark elf to show up at their place of worship and confront the resident priest.

She gave him a coy little smile. “I work with the city guardsmen in case you were not aware. They’d sooner haul you to the dungeons as they would me. Have you forgotten what the captain did to Sombec?”

The priest turned a shade of red, the anger quite visible upon him. “Fine!” he snapped. “What is it you want?”

“What I want,” Danica said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “is to know why I cannot be welcomed in the church of light.”

He stammered a moment, but held firm. “You are the spawn of evil, dark elf. Your kind worship the gods of darkness and despair. Zaphel should strike you down here and now then let Myrra burn your soul for daring to profane their holy temple. That is why you should not be here.”

She stepped forward, getting nearly in his face. “I don’t even know the names of the dark gods and yet you would accuse me of worshipping them? You know nothing about me and no one in this whole damn town even cared to try.” She jingled her coin pouch loudly enough for him to hear. “I’d planned to make a sizable donation on behalf of the guards.”

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The color from his face drained, leaving it almost nearly as white as his robes. “I’m sorry. My apologies for the rudeness, perhaps we could discuss this somewhere more private.”

She turned away in disgust. It was a test to see if his convictions could be purchased and he failed it rather stunningly. The air of corruption and greed was evident from the moment Danica walked in, as she assumed it would be. This place was nothing like the little church house in Yeville and the priests were nothing like that old man who found happiness in simplicity. Were all of Norports churches as bad as this one?

She traveled to another one near the docks, and though it wasn’t nearly as nice on the outside, the interior was spacious and filled with ornate furniture and gilded objects. It was a testament to excess and greed that was wholly unnecessary. How much did they spend on all of this when so many people struggled just to feed themselves and their families.

An older man in white robes ran towards her sputtering curses and obscenities. When he got close enough, he reached out to grab her, but she easily side stepped him and pushed him away. His momentum was too great to stop and he fell to the side, cracking his head on a polished wooden bench. Blood began to flow freely from a cut on his balding scalp.

He flailed trying to get up from between the rows of furniture. She’d thought that the injury may have done something to his brain at first, but then the stench of alcohol reached her nose. It was no wonder he was so clumsy. The priest here was barely able to function because he was so inebriated, and it was probably something completely normal to them.

A few men approached her and she focused on them immediately, fearing the danger they might pose. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

They stared angrily at her, but made no move to get closer. She backed up slowly, staying aware of her surroundings at all times. She didn’t want to risk any more of a confrontation with them than was absolutely necessary. Had the moment not been so serious she’d probably want to laugh about that thought. None of this had been necessary. It could have been avoided if they had just extended some amount of courtesy towards her.

She left there and headed across the city to the last place she thought she’d ever want to see again. This one she had no plans to enter, but simply to observe from outside. She figured he would be in there and didn’t relish the thoughts of seeing him without her sword to run him through with.

The cathedral of Norport, its history with her aside, was rather impressive to behold. She took a moment to study the intricate stone block walls, carefully cut and placed by expert hands. She imagined that old man, younger at the time, laboring away for something he truly believed in. He had been so proud of this place until after he discovered the corruption within the very walls he helped create.

A man spoke from behind her. “It’s too pompous for my tastes, honestly.”

She turned around to find herself face to face with a tall, and somewhat handsome man. “You…,” she whispered somewhat flustered.

It was him. The man who’d helped take her away that night so long ago. She remembered looking upon his face, hoping for salvation, but it never came. He’d been part of it all along.

He held his hands out to the side, trying to show he meant no harm. “For what it’s worth girl, I’m sorry for what you went through. It was nasty business, but it was just that. Business.”

She eyed that rather sizable longsword at his side and debated on how fast she could kill him with a knife. It didn’t take long to come to the conclusion that he’d have her cleaved in half before she could even get close with it. This man was a trained warrior, through and through. He would get justice one day, but today was not going to be that day.

“Business,” she said through gritted teeth. “For you it might have been, but for me, it was personal.”

Ne nodded his assent. “I’m sure it was and still is.”

Danica stared at him, her cold blue eyes brimming with fury. “I found Badger in the slums not so long ago. I made sure he was dead this time and I’m not done yet.”

The man gave a quiet laugh and smiled down at her. “I like your spirit, so I’ll give you some advice. Those fools Sombec and Slade are in there right now, and should the desire take you one day, you could do away with them both and do the world a favor. Me? You even think about trying me and I’ll leave your rotting carcass hanging off one of these trees for the vultures.”

She stared at him, wondering how capable he really was. “So I should take my revenge on the others and leave you be?”

“You should,” he said with a shrug. “As I said, it was just business. Matron Stenouse sold you off to Sombec many years ago. She’s done that to quite a few young girls, and the lucky ones that live usually end up shipped to far away cities to live out their lives as whores.”

Danica felt sick at hearing those words, but it all made sense. How many times did that wretched old woman threaten her with becoming a prostitute? How many young girls ended up meeting that actual fate? There were quite a few that left the orphanage at a young age never to be seen again. She’d assumed they’d aged out and went on their way, or been adopted, but now she wasn’t so sure about it.

He began to walk by her, but abruptly stopped. “I’m sure that soon you’ll want to come back here to end that miserable bastard's life. There’s an entrance to this cathedral through the basement you escaped from. You’ll find the door lock conveniently broken, so you shouldn’t have any trouble getting in.”

He walked into the cathedral, leaving her there in front of the steps to ponder what she’d just been told. She wanted to deny his words as lies, but she just couldn’t. Everything just fit so well into place even if it made no sense. Danica clenched her fist and made the decision to ask the matron mother about it. She’d have the truth and quite possibly the old woman's head as well.