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When Nithel nodded and said with devout seriousness “He is”, she felt something cave inside her chest. She sat back on her knees, stunned.

A part of her had aways known that answer. She knew that at some point in her life she would have to atone for everything that she did. That was why she spent her days cleaning up that abandoned cathedral in the middle of the city. Though it was futile. She had so much blood on her hands.

A part of her had hoped. <i>Hoped</i>. That there was nothing. No good or evil. No specific morals they had to follow. No consequences in the afterlife.

She closed her eyes, her hands trembling. “I see. Then – I suppose he will send me – somewhere bad. When I die.”