The setting sun cast a weak glow upon the struggling city, and that light was further dampened by the clouds of smoke billowing overhead. She had no issues ducking into dark shadows and hiding to avoid any groups of people that might cause trouble. Mostly it was just confused or frightened citizens, but she did see an armed military patrol nearby, obviously trying to keep the peace in this area.

Danica shook her head at the futility of it all and hopped the stone fence into the cemetery. She saw an occasional person hiding out here from the chaos going on, but she doubted they’d cause her any issue. Still it paid to be cautious and she went around them, careful to avoid any detection.

Passing by the entrance to the catacombs, she gave a brief glance inside. The doors were opened, and she somewhat knew the interior. Perhaps if need be, she’d hide inside there and ride out the rest of the night. Landon hadn’t sealed off the back exit of it, so she wouldn’t be trapped within. Revisiting that room was something she didn’t relish the thought of, but it was better than being cornered in a tomb.

Danica turned when she got to the door and surveyed the surrounding area. She never forgot her mad dash to freedom that night, scared and alone, yet she ran for her very life. No one ever realises the effects a traumatic event could have on someone until well after the moment has passed. That very night helped shape her into someone completely different than she’d been before. It made her into the person she was today and gave her the power to right the wrongs that had been committed.

The door was already cracked open, just barely enough to give it the illusion of being shut. “Garwin,” she whispered to herself.

She proceeded inside and shut the door behind her. The mute colors of the evening quickly gave way to the gray of her dark vision once inside. It was mostly how she remembered it, save for the dead body laying upon the floor. The corpse had been posed after death to lay straight while pointing his sword towards a door. Upon closer inspection, the lock of the indicated door appeared to have been recently damaged.

Garwin had told her the lock would be broken. He’d set all this up expecting her to show up there that night. But why? Was he waiting inside for her? Her mind screamed out that they were setting a trap, but the closer she got, the more determined she was to see this through. It was probably going to be her only chance to do this and it would be foolish to throw it away out of fear.

She quietly opened the door and proceeded down the narrow hallway, passing by a few other doorways. Something about those didn’t seem like the correct way to go. It was the doorway at the end that stood out the most. It appeared more grand for some reason, seemingly unnecessary for an underground door. Knowing what she did about these priests, that seemed the right path to take.

Upon reaching the door she heard the faint sound of voices from within.

“Where in damnation is that muscle headed fool?”

“Maybe he got picked off out there. He always liked fightin’ ya know.”

“I pay him good coin to be my bodyguard, and when I need him most, he’s not around.”

“Good news for me then.” she said, opening the door.

Three of them. Sombec farther back, sitting at his desk. Slade over by a rack of bottles, with a goblet of wine in his hands. Finally there was another man there lounging in a long chair with a book. He was rather thin and didn’t strike her as threatening in any way.

“By the damned gods!” Sombec yelled, while standing up. He knocked the chair over, but seemed rather unconcerned with his clumsiness at the moment. “Do you have any idea what you cost me you little trollop.”

“I actually do.” She pulled out the ring and held it to the light. Green glinted tantalizingly off the sparkling emerald. “This and one hundred silver pieces.” She made sure he got a good look at it before putting it back away again.

Sombec chuckled at the realization. “I’d heard that someone put that old crone out of our misery and I guess I have you to thank for it. That still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“Yeah,” Slade interjected. “If ya missed us so much, then why’d ya run off?”

Danica pulled her sword and casually swung it around, getting her arm loosened up. “I think you know why I’m here, actually.”

Sombec gave a smirk at her daring words. “Manning, Slade, get her. We’ll put her back in the cell where she belongs, and this time, I’ll make sure she doesn’t get away.”

Slade pulled his short sword and stepped confidently in her direction while Manning slowly backed away. “Uh, Sombec, she has a weapon.”

The portly priest sighed tiredly and pointed to slade. “So does he, you idiot. Grab that broom over there and beat her with it while he distracts her.”

Manning grabbed the broom and tried to come up behind Danica while Slade approached from the front. She gave him a side eyed glance, and waited for the right moment. As soon as he got close enough she spun around in a full circle, arcing that sharp edged steel across his throat. He fell to the floor, clutching at the bloody wound and gasping for air.

Sombec took a step back, nearly tripping over the fallen chair, while Slade whistled appreciatively. “That was a fancy move, girly,” the street mercenary said. “Don’t go thinking I’ll be as easy though.”

Slade dove in with an overhand strike, which she easily sidestepped. He had overreached the swing somewhat, leaving his flank exposed, and she gave him a biting cut on the thigh as a punishment. He yelped in pain, and swung back towards her with a backhand swing. She leaned back, letting the blade hit nothing but air, and gave him another cut to the opposite leg.

He came in again and again, and every time she was able to dodge out of the way or parry his feeble attempt of an attack. She’d once feared this man, and with every new cut inflicted upon him, she could see that it had been unnecessary. He had always been nothing more than a common thug who bullied those he deemed weaker than himself. It was past time he got what was coming to him.

Slade dropped the sword and knelt to the ground, holding his hands up to her. “Yield! Yield!”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Danica looked down upon him and sneered. “Look at me. Look at my face. You did this to me, and every time I see myself in the mirror, I’m reminded of that night.”

The look of confusion on his face went to surprise as she plunged her rapier down to the hilt in his chest. Danica pulled the blade from the dying man and kicked him away from her, releasing the last bit of hatred for him that she’d stored within her all those years. It was time to move on now and see things the rest of the way through.

Her attention turned to Sombec and her heart actually skipped a beat. He held a rather large book in his hands, speaking words that she couldn’t possibly comprehend. A bluish white glow formed around his skin and faintly radiated outwards into the area. A shimmering bubble appeared out of thin air, completely surrounding him.

Danica tried to race towards him, hoping to somehow interrupt his spellcasting, but was too late to stop it. Her body hit what seemed like a soft wall before bouncing back. It left a strange tingling sensation throughout her body for a brief moment before fading away. It was a feeling she’d already experienced once in her life and had hoped never to do so again.

“You come into my home, kill my men, and threaten my life,” Sombec yelled. “I should end you here and now half-breed, but for some reason I actually admire your courage. Turn around and walk away. I shall show you more mercy than you showed them.”

She looked at him, hatred flaring in her icy blue eyes. “Mercy? You don’t know what it means, you bastard.”

Danica swung her sword into the bubble, trying to see if there was some way to get inside of it. Every time she struck the barrier, her blade would bounce back, sending magical pulses through the metal and into her body. Frustration mounted with every swing and at any moment she expected his patience to wear thin at her antics. Why wasn’t he taking the offensive like the witch had with her magic?

This was different.

She stopped her barrage to take a moment to think about what exactly was different with this. He held his book, while hers had seemingly taken on a life of its own. The old woman had easily manipulated the spell, while he only seemed to be capable of this shield. The witch was capable of exercising incredible power easily. Sombec was sweating and looked exhausted already.

Danica let out a laugh. “You can’t keep this up can you?”

“Of course I can,” he snapped. “You have no idea the power I possess.”

She laughed again and pointed her sword directly at his face. “Let’s find out then.”

A single step forward and the point met resistance, warping the protective bubble around it. The strain was incredible and the numb tingling gave over to a mild pain as her body absorbed the magical energies given off by the spell. Still she persisted and was able to take another step, followed by a third. His power was indeed beginning to wane out of existence. Once it did, she’d not give him the opportunity for another spell.

The metal tip was nearly in front of his right eye when he ducked to the side, letting the power of the spell go completely. “Enough!” he yelled as her sword punched through the space his head had been only a moment before. “It’s obvious you meant to see me dead, but perhaps we could strike a bargain for my life.”

Danica nodded in agreement. “I want information and you damn well better tell me the truth.”

“Of course.” He started to reach for his book, but she swatted his hand away with the flat of the blade. “Fine. Ask what you will then.”

Her first question was simple and blunt. “Why me?”

He set his chair back upright and took a seat, obviously exhausted. “I’ve always had a weakness for, well, let’s just say things I shouldn’t have. I asked Rowan for permission, and to my surprise he granted it. In exchange, he wanted me to start undermining the church. We struck a deal for it.”

She wanted nothing more than to separate that bulbous head from his shoulders right then, but forced herself to remain calm. “I doubt the gods would be pleased with you doing that.”

He chuckled and held his hands up. “If Zaphel or Myrra actually existed, they’d come down here and strike me down for the things I’ve done. Rowan told me they were dead now, but no one really knows.”

“Why would you want to undermine the church?” She asked, somewhat curious. “And how?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Sombec said, with a shrug. “I don’t care about religion, and I never did. Rowan found me in a dungeon awaiting trial for prior dalliances. He pulled a few strings and put me to work in the church. Next thing I knew, I was head priest. As for how, well look around, we’ve been bleeding our parishioners dry and living in excess. The people that need help the most suffer in squalor and we turn a blind eye towards it. We’re partly responsible for the state this city is in now.”

She paced around, swinging her rapier casually as she did so, tiny drops of blood falling from it. “Why does he want the church gone? He’s already the leading authority here. Why didn’t he just outright ban worship?”

Sombec nodded along in agreement. “I asked the same thing. He says that it would drive the worshippers underground and make it harder to stamp out. In this way, he is making the religion reviled by the people so they turn away from it. He’s coming back tonight with the red suns and they’re going to take over. I was supposed to cede power to them in a ceremony, but I don’t think that’s going to be happening now.”

“And why is that?” she asked.

“Because if Rowan knew I told you any of this, he’d kill me. If I didn’t tell you, you’d kill me.” Sombec slunk down in his seat, clearly feeling defeated. “He’s not here right now and you are, so it’s not much of a choice for me. I’ve got a stash hidden away that I can live comfortably on for the remainder of my days if I can get far enough away from here to where he can’t find me.”

Something dawned on her then, a horrible realization of puzzle pieces beginning to fit. “Did Rowan plan for this riot to happen? Is he behind it?”

The priest nodded. “Yes. It was all part of his plan.”

“None of this really makes any sense.” She turned away from him, gripping her sword tightly. “What is he planning? And why am I so involved in it?”

“I don’t know anything more than what I’ve already told you,” he said.

In one swift motion, she turned back around and ran her rapier through him. The thin blade easily pierced flesh and continued on through the back cushion of the chair he was sitting on. The look on his face was utter shock while he tried to gasp for air.

Danica whispered quietly into his ear. “You’ve destroyed so many lives, Sombec, and if I let you go, you’d ruin many more. People have died because of your actions. You have no one to blame but yourself for this.”

Once he’d taken his final breath, she pulled her sword out and cleaned the blood off on his silken robes. The crimson stain blooming from the wound was spreading quickly through the once white cloth. She took a moment to stare at the scene, to always remember this moment of revenge.

Danica looked around the room at the opulence spread out before her. A thought crossed her mind and she debated on if she should burn this room, and possibly the entire cathedral down before escaping. The options weighed in, each with their own merits, but ultimately she decided not too. It was likely they’d simply take more from the already beleaguered people to rebuild the cathedral for its new owners.

But what of the things Sombec had said? The only person who could answer now was Lord Rowan himself, and it wouldn’t be easy or likely she’d ever get answers from him. Unlikely, but not impossible. She’d have to carefully plan out her next moves soon, and see what came of it. For now, she needed to escape from here before anyone else stumbled upon the carnage she’d wrought.

Danica exited back the way she’d come and made her way deep inside the catacombs to hide while the city tore itself apart.