Gordon was woken up by the sudden increase in temperature. He opened the front door to take a look outside. His face crumbled in complete horror, when he saw the situation outside. He ran inside the smithy.

  “MORD..... YVENE, WAKE UP!!!” Gordon screamed out.

  They didn’t seem to respond....

  Gordon went upstairs to check on them. He hurriedly climbed the stairs, hoping that the fire would not reach the smithy. But his hopes were futile. As soon as he opened the bedroom door, he saw a horrific scene. The roof of the smithy had crumbled down upon the blacksmith couple, killing them on the spot. The black flames devoured their lifeless bodies.

  “No......” Gordon couldn’t believe his eyes.

  He came back to his senses, when another chunk of the roof fell down, destroying the bedroom completely. Gordon ran down the stairs as fast as he could. The smithy was soon to be caught up fully in flames. He had to gather as much as possible within the limited time he had. He entered the workshop and looked around frantically. He saw a sword lying beside the furnace. He grabbed it and attached it to his waist. He took other necessary materials and escaped from the smithy. Gordon witnessed the black flames, completely destroy the smithy.

  The boy ran, not knowing his destination. The whole city was up in flames. He had to get out of the city. He had to survive. More than a few minutes had passed. His legs were giving up. He couldn’t run anymore. He didn’t have enough strength left to even stand up properly. Meanwhile the fire was catching up. If he didn’t act quickly, he would perish in the fire. He tried to get up. If needed, he would crawl to get out of this city. He was determined not to die here. Gordon saw that some of the citizens weren’t even trying to escape. They had accepted their fate. They just waited for the inevitable. He wanted to try and save them. But Gordon himself was running out of time. He wasn’t at a liberty to worry about anyone else other than himself.

  In the meantime, the nobles were trying their best to stop the fire from spreading. Hamton and Belzi used water and land spells continuously while the other nobles were busy, evacuating the survivors. Lizle wanted to follow the river, downstream, to look for her son. She knew that he was still alive. But then again, she was a Noble. She couldn’t just leave her duties and responsibilities for her personal reasons. The other nobles assured her that they will help to find Azoth but evacuating the survivors came first.

  The citizens were in a state of panic. They didn’t know what caused the fire. The nobles wouldn’t answer their questions as they didn’t want the situation to get worse. More than two hundred people were rescued. But thousands were killed in the fire. People had lost their families, their loved ones, their hopes and dreams.

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  The nobles took the survivors to a safe shelter, away from the fire. They returned back to the city to find more survivors. While searching for survivors, Lizle saw a boy, not more than eleven or twelve, limping his way, in the direction of the city’s entrance. He reminded Lizle, of Azoth. She approached the limping child.

  “Hey kid, come with me... We have a safe shelter for the survivors.” Lizle said in a soft voice. The boy looked at her. His blonde hair glowed in light of the flames. He gave Lizle a faint smile, before collapsing in her arms. The boy was tired, his whole body was in pain. He was carrying a heavy sword on top of that. It was a miracle that he could travel this far.

  When the boy regained his senses, he saw that he was being carried by Lizle on her back.

  “Thank you madam...” The boy said in a tired voice.

  Lizle wanted to say something but before she could speak, a huge blast distracted her. She almost ran with the boy, towards the safe shelter. The boy was too tired to question anything. Lizle was almost there.... Just a little bit more and she would reach the shelter. They were almost outside the city but there was another blast which took place right in front of them. A building crumbled and Lizle fell down with the boy. The nobles rushed towards the blast and saw them fallen on the ground. They helped Lizle to get up on her feet.

  “THE CHILD!!! WE HAVE TO RESCUE HIM!!” Lizle protested.

  “THERE IS NO TIME!!! WE HAVE TO SAVE YOU FIRST!!” Volzen and the others dragged Lizle outside the city.

  Lizle saw the unconscious body of the boy, lying on the ground, amidst this disaster, while she was being taken away, unable to do anything. The nobles had almost exhausted their spiritiz energy. They couldn’t waste the little remaining spiritiz energy they had left. So, the boy was left there, while the nobles escaped to the shelter.

  Transmissions had been sent to the Spiritiz Council. They were sending a large number of carriages to carry the survivors and the nobles. The nobles waited in silence, until the carriages arrived. Lizle experienced intense feelings of guilt and remorse. In the end, she couldn’t save the boy. She didn’t even ask for his name. While lost in her thoughts, the carriages arrived. The survivors entered the carriages. It was up to the Council to decide, where they would settle. All the carriages carrying the survivors, went back to the Spiritiz Council. Only the one carrying the nobles, followed the river downstream, to look for Azoth.

  The banks were searched thoroughly. But there was no trace of Azoth. Lizle was heartbroken. She couldn’t save her only son, nor could she save that boy. The nobles stopped their search and journeyed back to the Council, to report the incident.

  The beautiful metropolis of Soren was completely in ruins. Belzi’s house had fallen. Being the Noble of the Soren region, the Council might hold Belzi partly responsible, since this destruction took place while she was present in the territory, and was unable to stop it completely. She could only hope that the Spiritiz Council would not take away her nobility.