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Dashing up the main street, the path to war it was quite literally called, the two warlocks saw the rushing truth to why the Avatar was still silent. The blood of the Exarch prince to be sacrificed was dripping into the glittering white cracks between slabs of wraithbone. His chest no longer rose and fell. They needed not to lean down to check on him to know that perhaps the man who could save them was now dead at their feet.