Tellith imagined the citadel in ruins, corpse laden hallways silent as he picked his way through them. No sign of life, nothing left alive, discarded weapons and limbs scattered. The carpet squished with blood as he walked, and the atrium was a sea of death; bodies heaped among dead foliage-

He broke off. No, the plants wouldn't be dead. The Atrium's waterfall would still tumble five stories down to the pool below, and the greenery potted trees and shrubs would still be lush ...