Thick clouds of dust and smoke filled the inside of the church. They swirled and danced like giant snakes, guided by the draft and rain from the crushed dome.

On the brink of fainting, Lorelei looked around, and her heart painfully quivered.

An enormous pile of masonry, wood beams, and bent metal - at least the height of four grown men - towered in the middle of the nave. Above it, a jagged hole gaped at the churning sky. A few large pieces of glass still hung in the twisted and crushed scaffolding, making the remnants of the cupula look like the sharp-toothed mouth of a giant lamprey. A large fragment from the wall of the destroyed spire somehow still balanced at the rim of the broken ceiling - a giant tusk stretching over the already mutilated nave.

Lorelei swallowed dryly, the loud thundering of her heart fiercer and louder than the rumbling storm outside.

That chunk of the tower was held together only by brittle mortar and what little support two blackened wooden beams could provide. It wouldn’t hold much longer.

“Mir-Mama! Oh, no, no, no! W-what do we do?”

Rasha’s distraught voice overcame the ringing in Lorelei’s ears - a few quaking words that cracked the dam of anguish and rapture, allowing for the sounds of chaos and pain to follow.

People were moaning and screaming. The overloaded beams were groaning under the impossible weight of the stone blocks. And hidden beneath it all, quiet sizzle and splatter announced the escape attempts of tufts of crimson flame as they fled from the downpour and into the dry safety of the side galleries.

And again, for a split second, a blinding flash erased everything from existence, only for the world to reappear amidst the roar of thunder.

“Come!” Rasha grabbed Lorelei’s arm and tried pulling her to the side. “We need to get you out of here!”

“No.”

Her mistress’ calm response startled the Binshi.

With a determined tug, Lorelei freed herself from the young warrior’s grip and ran towards the moaning, unstable pile of debris.

“There are survivors!” she shouted over her shoulder. “We need to get them out! Now!”

With a slew of curses not much unlike her sister’s, Rasha jumped after her.

The two closed the wreckage and the horror of the situation became even clearer. Impaled, crushed, mangled - the bodies of the unlucky devotees that had been praying under the dome were now fused with the pile of stones and wood. Their blood trickled like crimson springs down the charred granite and formed puddles on the once beautiful mosaic of the temple’s floor.

Lorelei suppressed the urge to vomit and looked for a sign of life - a twitching arm, a moan, a flailing body. She spotted an old woman pinned to the ground by a fallen beam and rushed to her. With Rasha’s help, she managed to free the woman and pull her far away from the dangerous ruins.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” she asked while quickly bandaging a sizable gash on the old woman’s forearm with her handkerchief. “Have you been hit on the head? Any pain when breathing?”

The woman just sobbed and shook her head, her eyes staring blankly at something only she could see. Lorelei carefully but quickly checked her arms and legs, pressed her ribs slightly, and then dug her hands into her patient’s messy hair.

“All seems fine,” she sighed and smiled. “You’ll be fine, madam. Please don’t move from here. Rasha, let’s go. This time, we split.”

“That would put you in danger,” grumbled the young Binshi.

“But we can save more people. Now go!”

Before her aide could protest further, Lorelei was already running again. Not long after, she dragged a youth with a broken arm to make the old lady some company. On her end, Rasha appeared with a burly man leaning on her shoulder, whose limping right foot was unnaturally twisted.

“Please, wait here for a bit.” Lorelei helped the man to sit down and lean on a column. “Your leg is broken and needs to be properly adjusted, but the injury is not life-threatening.”

“W-wait…” The man squeezed through clenched teeth and grabbed Lorelei’s wrist as she was about to leave.

“I know it hurts but please, let me go.” She held the man’s hand. “I promise, I’ll come back. Don’t be scared. But now I need to go and help the rest.”

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“No…” The man coughed and laughed. “I’m not scared, my lady. But I know you. I was there. During the Duke’s trial.”

“I…” Lorelei stiffened, not knowing what to expect.

“Thank you,” the man coughed again and let her go. “Now fly, my lady. And may the Fathers protect you!”

Lorelei could see the sparkle of hope on the man’s tormented face. A lump clogged her throat and she could just pat the man’s shoulder in response before jumping up again.

‘Merhek!’ she cursed herself silently. ‘Keep calm. Emotions have no place here. Concentrate on the patients. But there are too many…’

Throwing a desperate look around, she spotted a few more figures moving or limping amongst the debris.

“Over here!” she screamed and waved, attracting the survivors’ attention. “It’s safe under the arches on the left!”

She intercepted a pair, a man and a woman, who were staggering towards the makeshift sanctuary and supported them.

“Thank you, child!” The man heaved a sigh of relief, but suddenly stiffened and ogled Lorelei. “Duchess!?”

“Father Ignatus!?” She was no less surprised to recognize in the plump, dust-covered man her recent guide through the cathedral.

“Thank the Gods, you are unharmed, Your Highness.” The priest gripped her shoulder and there were tears in his eyes. “But what are you doing in this abysmal place?”

“The same as you, Father.” Lorelei chuckled and put the other arm of the nearly fainted woman over her shoulder to lessen the priest’s load. “Can you estimate how many have been buried?”

“With the storm and Twilight Mass approaching… over sixty, maybe even seventy.”

Lorelei bit her lips before the curse could leave them. How many would they find alive? And how many of them would survive to see the next dawn?

As the three reached the safety of the side arches, Lorelei looked at the ever-growing number of patients. Some were moaning in pain, some were sobbing, and some lay there motionless and a breath away from death. A few dust-covered priests and novices wandered around, some mumbling prayers with terror-twisted faces, others - trying to bandage wounds with what they could find for the moment.

A clamor from the entrance of the church announced the arrival of a large crowd. This made Lorelei’s heart tremble in fear and elation. More people meant more hands. But how good those hands could do their job was an entirely different matter. And as if answering her premonition, a loud voice overcame the clamor.

“Alright, lads! Let’s dig ‘em stones away! Clear the rubble!”

“Wait!” Lorelei shouted and jumped before the well-wishing crew. “If you start pulling stones away carelessly, it can crush any survivors below. Or even you, if you’re unlucky. Is there a mason amongst you?”

“There ain’t no time fer yer nonsense, lass!” The self-proclaimed speaker of the group snorted and tried to push further but Lorelei bared his way. “Move! Don’t stand in ma way if ye know what’s good fer ye.”

“And if you know what’s good for you, you’d be kneeling before your Duchess!” Father Ignatus hobbled up to them and let his anger and frustration loose.

“Duchess? What Duchess?” The spokesman looked Lorelei up and down. The disdain and annoyance on his face were quickly replaced by terror. Even with all the dust and blood, her disheveled clothes were fine enough to at least convince him that she was a high noble. “Oh, shit! I mean…”

“Doesn’t matter.” Lorelei brushed off his stuttering attempt at apology. “As you’ve said, there really is no time to lose.”

She pierced the men behind him with her gaze.

“You,” she pointed at one, “go fetch a patrol from the city guard. And you, you run to the apothecary district and bring as many people and medicine as you can. And don’t forget bandages. And you, with the beard, find me a mason or a brick-layer, or an apprentice roof-maker. Anyone that might know how to stabilize that damn thing before it crumbles down and does even more damage.”

“No need to look for a mason, Lady.” A pained but strong voice sounded from behind.

Turning around, Lorelei crossed eyes with the man with the broken leg she had helped. He gave her a crooked smile and put a hand over his heart.

“Master Mason Croft at the Duchess’ services.”

“Master Croft, your injury is not light.” Lorelei said sternly. “Your help is appreciated but-”

“I won’t overexert myself from sitting on my but and giving instructions, my lady. And time is pressing.”

Pondering for a brief moment, Lorelei conceded and turned again to the newcomers.

“Then the rest should follow Master Croft’s guidance. Father Ignatus?”

“Yes, Duchess.”

“Call for all remaining priests and bring your infirmarian here. Make sure to stifle any fires and ambers before they have spread. And we should start transporting the people away from here. Does the church’s hospis have enough beds?”

“No, my lady. But we can bring the ones with no bed in the dormitorium of the novice priests.”

“Excellent. I’ll be coming to assist with the patients as soon as I’ve had a word with the Duke. Where is he exactly?”

“My lady…” Suddenly, the chubby face of Father Ignatus became ghastly pale. “He went with Bishop Petronius to visit a certain someone. They are both in the temple’s crypts.”

“Thank the Fathers!” Lorelei let out a long breath. Noah hadn’t been there when the ceiling crashed.

“No, my lady. This isn’t good.” The priest brushed his sweat with a dirty hand, smudging dust and grime over his face. “The entrance to the crypts is over there.”

His finger pointed at a spot somewhere beyond the mountain of debris.

“What do you mean?” Lorelei’s knees felt like molten butter and she had to struggle to stay straight.

“I’m sorry, Duchess. I’m afraid the entrance to the crypts was blocked when the east tower fell.”