So last night was not just a bad dream.

Elsa wordlessly accepted the bowl of broth with a shaking hand. It was hot enough to be painful to drink, but she powered through it. The pain felt only fair, given how much pain the fire (her fire) must have inflicted. She felt sick and exhausted, not only physically but also mentally. In retrospect, the wall of fire she had put up had hardly even been necessary. They could have dealt with the undead shamblers easily enough.

She dared not ask how much damage had been done, how many people had died, before the disaster came under control. At least the city still stood, or at least, the part of it where the Shallyan hospital was located. Ludo was alive. And the others were fine, she assumed, or they would be here as well... unless they were dead.

No reason why they'd be dead. I woke up outside the house and they were alive. Or did I dream that?

And what of Klammenberg and the vampire? She had seen Udolf die, but not the other two, and in the confusion of battle and almost dying, she had not paid attention to what had become of them. She certainly had not seen their bodies.

Sieghard. I need you here.