Riba was abandoned. There was nothing else it could be. In the hours since the sun rose the group had been searching the city, not a single being had shown itself. Every single building they searched was empty of people and of Zlohiel. No matter how much the four of them yelled that they weren't going to be of any harm, no one appeared.

Towards the middle of the morning, they searched the crumbling castle in the middle of Riba, their hope slowly dwindling. They found nothing but bodies, scattered around like discarded toys. The king and his family lay sprawled in a once lavish room, blood staining the walls and floor. Nyal covered them in bedding, an attempt at a respectful burial.

They took a break in one of the empty rooms around the castle, rationing out the small amount of food they had. They could take some from the stores in the castle, but a lot of what they had seen around the kingdom had turned rotten.

She searched the library and every important place in the castle but found nothing that could help them defeat the Zlohiel. It was almost as if the whole of Riba had forgotten that Corpius had existed. There wasn't even a statue of him, let alone any of his important works. The only books she had found held false information on their enemies, written long after the war.

Perhaps they would have to go to Dreeva. That was where Nyal had found Corpius's book in the first place. She should have suggested they go there first, but the warlock had wanted to go home. She couldn't just deny him that. If anyone had been left in the city, she would have screamed at them for disrespecting such as important figure as Corpius.

Elora watched Nyal throughout the morning. He grew more and more frantic with every minute that ticked by, his hair becoming frizzy and his face turning a deep red. Elora didn't know how to help him, despite how much she wanted to. How do you comfort someone who just lost their entire home?

She tried to stick by him, to give him silent comfort by walking close to him. He seemed to be calmer in her presence, but it still wasn't enough to stop him panicking. She watched him breathe shakily every time he called out for survivors, every time he turned a corner, as though he had gotten his hopes up each time.

Her own gnawing feeling never went away, only got worse the more she saw. She tried to ignore it, tried to ignore the two voices screaming at her in her head: her own and her father's. He'd been talking to her all morning, telling her he'd seen the city while they had been sleeping. He told her there was no one left, but never told her where they had all gone. She didn't want to believe him, but the longer they looked, the more inclined she was to listen to him.

They were wandering out of the castle when Nyal finally said something that wasn't a yell. "How can a kingdom this big be completely empty?" he asked, more to himself than anyone else. "It doesn't make any sense."

"I'm not sure, Nyal," Elora replied quietly. Her father still wouldn't tell her, no matter how much she asked him. She didn't know why, but part of her suspected he just didn't care enough to answer.

"They can't all be dead," he muttered next to her, looking over at the nearby body of a woman.

"Maybe those who survived left," Mikhail suggested, still full of optimism. "They could have gone to Voda, or somewhere else they thought was safe."

"Maybe," Nyal replied. He seemed doubtful, and Elora couldn't blame him. If Riba was in such a state of destruction, who could say that Voda was still standing? There was a high chance it was gone too, that every kingdom was gone.

"There's nothing more we can do here," Ragen said.

"You're wrong," Nyal replied.

"Am I?" Ragen questioned, gesturing around them. "There's nothing here! Just dead people and toppled buildings! Why stay here any longer than we need to?"

"Because it's my home!" Nyal roared, spinning to seethe at Ragen, who didn't even look startled. "There are people here! There has to be!"

She reached out towards him. "Nyal," Elora said, ignoring the glare he shot her. "There's no one left here." She still didn't want to believe it, but a quick glance around told her everything. Riba was gone.

He ran a hand down his face and wiped at his eyes. "No! No," Nyal's voice trailed off into a pained groan. He spun, stalking away from them before Elora was able to say another word. Her wings twitched as she watched him go. She wanted to follow him, but she knew that it would only make things worse.

He disappeared around a corner, turning down an alley between two buildings. She could still hear his footsteps and his angry breathing. She hoped he wouldn't stray too far. Nothing had shown up yet, but that didn't mean they were safe.

"Ragen," Mikhail began. "Was that necessary?" The pair began to squabble among themselves, leaving Elora to stare after Nyal in silence. There was a lump in her throat that she couldn't speak through, no matter how hard she tried. She wanted to call from him, to make sure he was okay. She didn't regret her words, only the way she spoke them.

Elora stood in the small courtyard just outside the castle, the only noise was the occasional whoosh of the wind and the constant chatter of Ragen and Mikhail. Nyal's footsteps had quickly faded away and whatever noises he made went unheard to Elora. She sighed, stretching out her wings tiredly.

She stood there in silence to a long time, staring at the space Nyal had walked off too and listening to the squabbling of the warlock and the werewolf behind her. She didn't know what they were saying anymore, she wasn't paying that much attention. She waited for him to return, there would be no point in doing anything else. What was there to do?

She didn't know how long she stood there waiting, long enough for Ragen and Mikhail's argument to die down to nothing and the sun to begin its descent. There was no sign of Nyal. Just how upset was he? Enough to not return to her? She didn't know.

"He's not back yet?" Mikhail asked from near her shoulder. She looked to him with a shake of her head. "Maybe you should look for him." She frowned, she didn't want to bother him if he was still as upset as before, but it had been a while and he hadn't returned. She couldn't leave him to wander around an unsafe place on his own.

She sighed. "I'll be back when I find him," she said. "Stay here and stay together. I shouldn't be too long." Mikhail nodded at her, glancing back at Ragen warily. He stood off towards the edge of the courtyard, arms folded over his chest.

Her footsteps were loud in her ears as she walked away from the now silent pair. She turned the corner Nyal had gone down who knew how long ago, hoping that he wouldn't be too far away. The street was silent, the smell of the bodies tucked away in the corners and under rubble almost suffocating her. She hadn't really noticed the stench until then.

She called out for him, told him that it was time for them to leave. She was met with an eerie silence that made her eyebrows furrow in concern. Surely Nyal would be able to hear her. Maybe he had wondered further than she had originally thought.

She turned corners and wandered down streets she had passed through many times over the last two days, slowly moving further and further away from Ragen and Mikhail. They would be okay on their own; she could trust them to stay safe. She didn't know if she could trust Nyal that much.

She thought back to that night at the ball in Fiume, when Darius had set the city on fire. Nyal had seen him and not said a word until after. She remembered feeling so angry at him, that she couldn't trust him. Some of that had lingered after the fight at the Gate, enough for her to be worried about him.

A thud echoed down a street towards her, barely loud enough to be heard. She swivelled towards it, clothes fluttering around her. She stalked down the cobblestone street, wary that the noise might not be Nyal and preparing herself for a fight. The noise had come from near one of the city gates, but there hadn't been a second sound.

She burst into yet another small courtyard, this one made up like a small market like the one the group had entered through had been. She skidded to a stop at the end of the street, nearly tripping on a fallen market stall. Her heart began to pound in her chest, beating loudly in her ears.

Gaizma stood in the centre of the ruined market, stretching his arms high above his head. His back was to her, his hulking form towering above her. He hadn't seen her yet, she had a chance to escape. She needed to move, now.

She stepped back, only to kick at the fallen market stall, the tarp fluttering in the breeze. She hissed at her won recklessness, freezing in the entrance way. Gaizma dropped his arms, huffing out a loud breath. He turned towards her, grinning at her with his pointed teeth.

"I had heard you were here," he said, red eyes pinned on her. Scales rimmed his eyes, slowly blooming over the rest of his face like hideous flowers. "I wasn't sure if you had survived the Gate."

She breathed out shakily, thinking back to the Gate, to the war. He had been formidable even then, killing hundreds of Healers to rid himself of his weaknesses. She didn't know how strong he was now, not after hundreds of years in the Gate. She couldn't say for sure if she'd win a fight against him.

"Where's Nyal?" she demanded, only earning a confused expression on Gaizma's scaly face.

"I'd tell you if I knew who that was, little demigod," he replied, gesturing with a single clawed hand. "But I don't."

"I don't believe you," she snapped, stepping towards him. There was no way she could get away now.

"Of course, you don't," Gaizma said nonchalantly, grinning at her with his pointed teeth. He stepped towards Elora, allowing her to get a better look at the face she had never forgotten. In human form, Gaizma had a strong jaw and a hooked nose. His narrow red eyes always seemed to be glaring at everything, emphasised by the bushy eyebrows sitting above them. His greasy silver-grey hair blew in the wind, falling against his shoulders.

"Where is he?" she growled, sneering at him.

"It's been so long, hasn't it?" he asked, looking into the distance. "The realm has changed so much since you locked us away, and yet it is still the same. Do you know what it's like to not feel the sun for hundreds of years? It would make someone like you go crazy."

"Answer my question!" she interrupted, to no avail.

Leave, my daughter, you are not ready for this.

"I'm back now, little demigod, I'm back for good. The Gate is gone, you can't send us back there. I've come to take what is mine and you can't stop me, no one can."

Elora flared out her wings, baring her teeth at the giant dragon. "I will stop you," she said.

Gaizma huffed out a laugh, "Look at you, so ready for a fight, so ready to die," he started, pushing back his greasy hair with his now scaly hand. "There's a war coming, Elora, one that will determine the fate of this realm. I plan on winning it, and that is where I plan to kill you."

She ignored his word, drawing magic into her hands. "Are you too cowardly to face me now?" she cried, feeling sweat bead on her forehead.

Stop this. It will only bring you pain. She didn't understand his words. He wanted her to kill Gaizma, but when she finally has the chance to do so, he changed his mind. It took all of her will to block out his voice.

"Ah, Elora, if I faced you now, I'd break you like a stick," Gaizma said, his voice turning to a growl on the last word. He stalked towards her, backing her up against the nearby stone wall. "I came to see if what I had been told was true. That you had somehow escaped from the Gate. I don't know how you did it; I was sure they would have killed you. Even after so long you are still as powerful as you were back then." He paused, reaching out slowly with a large hand. He slammed it forward onto her chest, pressing her into the wall. He leaned forward, making her gag at the stench of his breath. "But that's not powerful enough. War is coming, Elora. Face me then, we will decide this once and for all."

"Why wait until then?" Elora spat, coughing at the weight of his hand on her chest. "Why not now?"

Gaizma smirked. "It would hardly be fair," he said. "I will take this realm fairly, not through dirty tricks. I won't kill you while you're weak, I'll wait until you're strong enough for it to be a fair fight."

He stepped away from her, releasing the pressure on her chest. She gasped, her wings twitching painfully from being pressed up against the stone wall. Once again, she drew upon her magic, ready for a fight despite Gaizma's words. He only laughed at her, stepping back into the middle of the courtyard.

The scales that had only covered his hands and face now covered every inch of visible skin, the shiny grey colour glinting in the light. He grinned at her, showing off sharp teeth that began to grow as she watched. Elora hissed, trying to move away but only backing herself up against the wall more.

Gaizma was shifting into his dragon form. He dropped onto all fours, grunting with the effort, his limbs beginning to stretch. It was the perfect moment to attack. She stalked forward, drawing more magic towards her. Gaizma's head shot up to look at her, red eyes glinting over the top of a rapidly elongating snout.

"Nice try, little demigod," he grunted. He let out a cry, wings tearing their way out of his back with a spray of blood. She jumped back with a hiss. She'd forgotten just how quickly dragons could shift. In what seemed to be a blink of an eye, a grey dragon towered over her, taller than the nearest buildings.

He snarled at her, saliva dripping from the pointed fangs that had formed in his mouth. She backed away, knowing now that an attack would be hopeless. He made a noise that resembled a laugh, flaring out his wings.

He launched into the air before she could say anything, beating his wings hard enough to make Elora take a step back. She wasn't going to follow him, he would have more of a chance of killing her in his dragon form.

She panted, watching him lift higher and higher into the sky. He kept his eyes on her the whole time, as though he was mocking her. He let out one final snarl, flames licking their way out of his mouth, before flying out over the city walls until he became a dot in the blue sky.

There was silence. She stared at the space where Gaizma had been, unable to process what had happened. He hadn't killed her, and she hadn't killed him. There would be a war. One she would have to win in order to save the realm.

Thudding footsteps echoed in the now empty courtyard. "Elora!" a voice called. "Elora!" She looked down sharply, gasping with relief when she saw Nyal running towards her. He was safe. He was alive. Gaizma hadn't killed him. Resisting the urge to wrap Nyal up in a hug, Elora vowed to make sure it would stay that way.