It had been a full day since she began writing the eulogy. She had made progress, not much, but some. But she couldn't think of the words. Despite herself, nothing came forth. It was getting late, but she was restless. She needed to think.
She left her room and wandered about in the evening light. There was nothing to do. She needed to find something or someone. She thought of Dante but decided against it. He was probably resting and didn't need to be disturbed. She avoided the palace chapel. It was still being used for the injured. The main hall was a makeshift barracks, primarily housing those with nowhere else to go. The library was inviting, but all that would do was distract her. The servant's quarters came to her mind, talk with them, but it didn't seem right as they were undoubtedly busy helping with the recovery.
Eventually, she let herself wander outside the Palace, down the eastern thoroughfare. A guard by the gateway followed her without her notice. The people were wrapping up their work for the day, and the roads were already relatively straightforward, though scorch marks and stains still remained. They would probably be washed away in the next storm. She could see what was underneath even with all of the horror that remained. As she walked further down the road she eventually came to the Cathedral. The Cathedral had been relatively unharmed since it was on the far side of the city from the main force of Demons. Still, chunks of the stone dome, and towers had been broken off, and much of the art built into it was damaged or destroyed. She walked in. Maybe talking to one of the priests would help her. The priest of Azrael would certainly have something to say about it.
She reached the front door and found it slightly ajar. A few steps closer, and she could hear the wailing. Someone was already inside it seemed. Nadia was about to turn back when she stopped. Why would someone be crying so sadly? Having lost her family she could imagine. Maybe they could help her, or maybe Nadia could help them. She took a deep breath and walked in.
A long way from the door, near the main altars, was a young girl, perhaps near her own age. She could see drops of blood staining the ground that led to her feet. Her long white hair was wild and dirty. She couldn't make out what the girl was saying, but periodically she could hear a 'Why' and 'mom' through her sobbing.
