Chapter 111: A Rough Start on the Path of Faith

The afternoon had grown chilly, and the streets were quiet.

Jess stepped out of the basement. After spending hours beside the fire, the sudden cold wind made him hurry to put on his cloak and wrap himself tightly in it.

He said goodbye to Ursula and Erlan, who had come out with him. He took an extra look at Erlan's expression, wondering whether the man still held a grudge over what had happened that night.

On the surface, things still seemed a little awkward. Whether Erlan was plotting revenge, Jess couldn't say.

After Gakin had once cornered him in an alley without warning, Jess was reluctant to draw conclusions about anyone.

He strolled home by way of the canal, wishing he had headphones or something so he could listen to music.

Even without a smartphone or MP3 player, a portable music box would be nice. Was there a spell that could play music directly inside his head?

The sky was cloudless. Jess watched the sun slowly sink toward the sea, the upright masts of sailing ships cutting its red disk into blurry pieces like a pumpkin pie sliced at random.

The canal beside his feet reflected golden light, sparkling as the water moved.

A little soft background music would make him feel like the main character of a television show, walking through a closing-credits montage. But the splash of oars from passing boats and the sharp, sudden calls of cold-weather birds flying from the Mage Quarter gardens had a charm of their own.

Somehow, Jess felt lonely, as though a piece of something was missing inside him.

Maybe it was because he'd just left the warm gathering by the fire. Or perhaps the evening view reminded him of something.

He was looking for a way to distract himself from the feeling when he spotted a round, stocky figure sitting on the canal wall outside his home, staring at the distant red sunset.

"Gred?"

The figure whipped around at the sound of his voice.

"Finally! Aren't you supposed to have your afternoons off?"

"There was a gathering," Jess explained, sitting beside him. "What are you doing here?"

"It's been over a week since we last saw each other, hasn't it?" Gred asked. "We split up after coming back from Redridge and haven't spent any time together since. I've been stuck at home for two days. Haven't even gone to the Warriors' Guild. My arms and legs are going soft!"

"Don't tell me you've found another job!" Jess felt his neck tighten.

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These days, the moment Gred said he was bored, wanted some exercise, or had found a simple job that paid well, Jess became nervous.

"Are you sure you've recovered?" Jess asked.

"I think so," Gred said. "That's why I want to take a job and see whether I'm really healed. Only a real fight can prove how well you've recovered!"

"Forget it. I can't," Jess said. "I'm preparing for an exam in the Mage Quarter. If I pass, my travel expenses should be covered. I'm desperately short of money. If I fail, I probably can't afford the boat fare."

Gred turned toward him. "Didn't you earn a lot gathering herbs? And hunting wolves..."

"Go on, then," Jess said. "What happened after that?"

Gred understood what he meant. He coughed awkwardly.

"Fine. I'll have to find someone else."

"By the way," Jess asked, "you said you wanted to join the church. How did that go? Would they accept you?"

"Don't remind me," Gred said. "They wouldn't take me. I told them I wanted to join the Knights of the Silver Hand, and they said I had to be a priest or a warrior the church trusted. So I told them I wanted to become a priest. Then they started talking about tests and said I didn't believe in the Holy Light, so I wasn't qualified."

"You don't even know them," Jess said. "Of course they're not going to take you if you walk in and announce you want to be a priest. But seriously, do you actually believe in the Holy Light?"

"Then what counts as believing in the Holy Light?" Gred asked.

That stopped Jess. What did it mean to believe in the Light?

"I thought you knew a lot about the church," Jess said. "Remember when you told me the church made torches with holy power for the Raven Hill Cemetery? I'd never even heard of the church making torches for tombs."

"That was just something I'd heard from other people!" Gred explained. "I didn't really learn about the church until I visited Southshore. The graveyard there has some lights like the ones in Raven Hill. Hardly anyone at Aerie Peak believes in the Holy Light. For lots of dwarves who've never left the Hinterlands, the Light is some new idea they only heard about after the Orc Wars."

Jess hesitated.

"Do you believe the Holy Light can guide your life? For example, if you do something evil, it punishes you. If you do something good, it answers your call when you're in trouble?"

"I don't know what counts and what doesn't," Gred said. "Remember what happened at Sentinel Hill? Did that count as the Holy Light appearing? That wagon was full of church people. Since someone explained the Holy Light to me in Southshore, I've never felt it as clearly as I did then."

"That sounds good," Jess said. "Didn't you tell the church people about it?"

"I did! But the priest said if you only believe in the Light when it helps you, you're using it, not truly devoted to it. And that means you can't become a priest."

"What a hassle." Jess scratched his head. "Maybe those church people are just prejudiced against Wildhammer dwarves."

"Why should they be...?" Gred muttered.

Jess knew joining the Knights of the Silver Hand was genuinely difficult before the Scourge invasion.

Every member was either a brave priest, a devout warrior, or a noble knight.

Only when the Scourge War broke out did the Silver Hand begin recruiting ordinary soldiers and knights on a large scale, bringing them into the church as paladins to fight the undead army about to sweep through Lordaeron in the name of the Light. That was when the Alliance saw a huge increase in its number of paladins.

At that time, converting a warrior who had never felt any attachment to the Light wasn't so difficult.

Imagine facing mountains of skeletons and zombies, with despair all around. Then a true paladin steps between you and absolute horror, wielding a golden sword and warhammer, shouting "For the Light!" and smashing countless evil creatures aside with a single blow. Even someone who had once hated the Light would start believing.

If a fighter like Gred had tried to join the Silver Hand during the Scourge invasion, there was almost no chance they'd reject him.

But right now, it was much harder.