Each On Their Own Battle

Ercilia thinks hard and long about it.

The guests shot to death, the servers torn between fighting to defend themselves and cowering in fear at the corner, the guards bleeding badly from a number of wounds, the lives of her family draining away, and her beloved smeared with blood while backed against a wall, his eyes blazing and feral, his teeth bared and growling at his attackers.

"No, no, no!" Ercilia screamed. "Just where are they?!" 

Her shell-shocked mind tries to reason. If the top of the gatehouse is on fire, then any survivors will be fighting the blaze. That is if there are still some left. 

She pushes that last thought aside and tries to will herself to hope. There's no guarantee who she'll meet, friend or foe, if she tries to head to the courtyard by the normal route. Everything around here is in complete chaos, and she's struggling not to let her thoughts get as messed up too.