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***Leilatha***

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Elder Urifir surveyed the carnage, "That was one powerful fiend." He looked over at the wind runner that came to report to him from Leilatha's group. "Was that the leader?"

"I believe so, but," The wind runner looked over at the devastation. "It displayed far more power before when it faced Lord Perin."

Elder Falar, standing nearby, was only partially paying attention to the conversation as he ordered his family guard into action. "What are you waiting for!? Go and help the injured! We can all rest later!"

Elder Qinam was still breathing heavily but managed to talk between wheezes. "That used up- nearly all of the water- just now. No point in staying- here anymore."

"Should we head into the city and retake it?" Falar asked, "We should have the weaker soldiers clean up the injured and lead the civilians away. But to where?"

Urifir was listening to the wind runner recount what had happened to Perin and motioned for another wind runner scout to come closer. "There are other elders at the north and southeast gates. Tell them what has happened here. Let them know that we will enter the city and if civilians still block their path, ask them to send us reinforcements."

Qinam glared at Urifir, "There you are- making decisions for- us again. Don't you think we- should rest up- and help the survivors- get further away before- we head back into battle?"

"Get going." Urifir sent the wind runner off as Qinam wheezed out his sentence. Then he turned to look Qinam in the eyes. "I think the enemy is stuck in the city, hiding from the storm and we should take this chance to kill as many of them as we can."

Falar kept his gaze on his troops that were rushing over to aid the fallen. "You can see to the injured while you rest Taleasin. I'll join Devdan in the city and save the injured that I can in there."

Qinam managed a *Hmmf* in response.

It was then, the wind runner from Leilatha's group spoke up. "What about Lady Leilatha? We need an escort for her."

Urifir cocked his eyebrow and spoke in a cold voice. "You can take her on to my villa. You are familiar with its location yes?"

The wind runner lowered his head, "Yes elder." He didn't mean to antagonize the elders but he had to ask further, "Is that also where we should expect your forces to rally after the fighting here is done?"

Urifir nodded, "My villa is the closest-"

"But my estate is more fortified!" Qinam interrupted. "And it's not that much further south." He growled out starting to wheeze again.

Urifir ignored Qinam and spoke to the wind runner, "You can take her to whichever. Let us know and we'll send you a better escort later." He shot his gaze at Qinam, "Taleasin, send the most critically injured to my villa, but your estate would be better for those that can still walk on their own."

Qinam barely had the time to grumble out "Fine, fine-" before Urifir turned to his troops and yelled. "Form up and secure the gate!"

The wind runner heard Qinam further grumble that this was the reason the elders spent most of their time away from each other. The wind runner had already reported what he knew of the enemy and now had the basic plan going forward. He decided it was the right time to excuse himself and return to Leilatha's side. He bowed, then turned to leave but was stopped by Falar's words.

"Wind runner, what is your name?"

"Elder Falar, I am known as Aeson of Falram. May I have your leave to return to Lady Leilatha and relay the information?"

Falar gestured permission with his hand, "You may."

Qinam *Hmmfed* again and looked away.

...

Viram's injured and exhausted clone opened its eyes. It found itself inside a recently abandoned house. Heavy rain pounded the alley outside and poured in through the destroyed wall the clone had smashed through. There was a clear path of destruction through the neighboring house that marked the clone's path back to the ground. The clone lay there staring at one of its arms and wondered why the limb was so far away and stuck on a splintered wooden beam. Without the lively fire that filled it with energy, the flesh was a pale grey streaked with black.

Elder Qinam didn't just harden the water, he had taken the liberty of hardening the water into a wall of spikes and blades before it was smashed into the fiend. Violet Ichor dripped from the fiend's wounds and its fire was completely out. The only life it had left was smoldering deep in its chest and wasn't even enough to turn the water drenching its body into steam. It tried to get up, too tired to feel any anger, it had to return to its master. Viram would be able to sense that something had happened to one of his clones but wouldn't be able to tell the exact details until the clone was close enough or had merged back into his body.

The clone could faintly sense where Viram was and that he wasn't very far away, but there was no telling if the clone would survive long enough to get back to him.

[How embarrassing to have been reduced to this state.] The clone's legs buckled and its body slammed back onto the ground. It felt the ichor oozing out of the many holes in its body, but it didn't give up. It started dragging itself over the broken furniture, leaving a dark streak as it crawled across the floor. Images of its many victims flashed through its mind. No doubt Viram will be incensed by the clones poor performance when finally facing worthy opponents. The other clone may even laugh at its comrade's failure. But none of this was important, its sins would disappear as soon as it merged back with Viram.

It could tell that its time was running out. Wounds that had turned black as the ichor clotted, were torn open again against the rough ground. Outside the ruined house, rain poured down over its body and seeped into its wounds. The puddles it scraped and slide past turned black even as they drained down the street. The clone made its way downhill but found its path blocked by churning floodwater.

It stared at its new arch-nemesis in disdain until a gurgling growl from a nearby ruin of a building caught its attention. It was a familiar sound.

The clone could no longer feel anything past its knees. It bit the inner walls of its mouth as it scraped over the stone walkway and snarled as it further tore its skin on the house's broken timber.

"Dragon. Are you there?" His voice was a horrible, rasping utterance. The taste of his own ichor grew stronger with every syllable and breathing was more and more difficult. He was no longer alone.

He heard a surprised grunt and the pile of rubble shifted as the wounded lava dragon extricated itself from the smoldering, half-burned wreckage. Only a stump remained of one of its wings, the other was crumpled and torn. The limp wing dragged along at the dragon's side as it plodded over the rubble. Its remaining eye found the clone and widened. The dragon let out a pitiful whimper and rested its head near the clone's own wrecked body.

"Take me back to Viram. I will guide you. Hurry." The clone gurgled and choked as he spoke. His breathing was becoming almost too laborious. Dark ichor dribbled from the corners of his mouth.