The sunlight reflected off of Cronai’s surface. Dust hung heavy in the hair, being kicked up by the two swordsman’s duel. Umbren breathed heavily. He struggled to keep up with his opponents, but he couldn’t have the other swordsman see him like this.

The dust was suddenly swept aside by a wooden blade.

Umbren gritted his teeth, not because of his opponent's appearance, but because of the training sword he wielded. It mocked Umbren every time he saw it.

He quickly brought his black blade to meet the wooden sword, but his opponent’s blade seemed to flow like the wind as it maneuvered around Cronai.

The training sword slammed into Umbren’s ribs, sending him flying. He was able to land on his feet. Umbren coughed incessantly as Mortis walked out of the dust cloud, dispersing it with the blade he held.

“Better, but not good enough.” The disciple said with a stern voice.

Umbren glared at Mortis and ran in to engage him.

Mortis gave an amused smile, “At least you're tenacious.”

Mortis blocked and parried Umbren’s attacks effortlessly, but never went in for a strike of his own.

“Sloppy,” the disciple swept Umbren’s legs out from under him with his wooden sword.

Umbren fell down with a frustrated grunt, and Mortis struck his sword hand.

The wooden blade's strike sent a painful sound through the air, but it only caused Mortis to raise an eyebrow, “I can never disarm you, can I?”

The wooden sword rested on Umbren’s wrist, but he stared at Mortis, biting his lip, Cronai still in his hand.

Mortis smirked and kicked Umbren away from himself, “Again!”

Umbren quickly rose and readied his sword, but Mortis simply watched with an amused expression.

Umbren rushed towards Mortis, but just as he drew close a blinding light split open the space above them causing Umbren to stop in his tracks.

Lightning spilled forth from the purple depths of the light, and Umbren thought it may have been brighter than even the sun.

“AHHHHHHH!!!” A man came spewing forth from the light with a rough sound as his back landed on the ground below, and in that instant the light disappeared.

Umbren looked at the man in shock. He was short, shorter than any Tenebrage, with a purple shawl which had a black feather etched onto it.

A violent whip of a sword rang through the air and Umbren found himself also on the ground with a whelp on his head, staring up at Mortis.

“Don’t be so easily distracted.” He glanced at the man, “It’s about time we ended this session. Come on, I have other things to get to.” He started walking off without Umbren.

Umbren nudged the man’s body, prompting a deep groan, “We can’t just leave him like this. Where away from the city. He’s too vulnerable like this.”

Mortis gave out a sigh and promptly tossed his wooden sword next to the man, “There we should go now. He’ll follow us when he’s ready,” Mortis didn’t seem satisfied in his words.

Umbren slowly got to his feet, rubbing his head as he followed Mortis. He had known from the past year that there was no convincing the disciple to do anything against what he’s already set into stone.

***

Umbren followed Mortis through Skotous’s capital of Ambis. Ambis was a very chaotic city to say the least. Multi-story tent-like structures made up the city with the higher quality and more colorful tents, signaling status. As Umbren walked through the streets he spotted multiple seamstresses hard at work on their next piece, Tenebrage were famous for tere textiles. Beggars sat begging for coins, so that they may afford a trip to Avayev to end their life. Though what was most prevalent in the street were the soldiers celebrating their victory and claiming respite before going out to battle again.

“Lord Motis please wait!”

A voice interrupted Mortis as he was trying to brush off the many tenebrage who would swarm around him for a hope to receive his blessing, but some simply wanted to bask in his presence. Umbren had repeatedly seen Mortis ignore the rabble, but he sometimes thought he could see satisfaction in the disciple’s eyes.

Mortis turned around to face the voice as if it was a bother to deal with, “I have no time for such things fulgcere, if you want to talk, you must keep up or wait until we arrive at the altar.”

“The altar?” Umbren couldn’t hide the amazement in his voice. He had never been in the sacred place. Only those with the disciple’s permission could enter and they almost never gave it.

The fulgcere struggled to get to Mortis’s side, tripping over himself as he went. He wouldn’t have made it through the crowd if it wasn’t for a side glare from Mortis towards the crowd.

The Fulgcere was truly of small stature with a hunched posture. His pupils were trapezoidal in shape and he had a beak-like nose.

“I’m sorry your highness, but I have an urgent message from Lord Taldry requesting your aid.”

Mortis seized the wooden sword that the fulgcere was struggling to carry at that point and handed it off to one of the members of the mob, and shortly thereafter a shriek could be heard followed by a thud on the ground, but Mortis paid it no mind.

“If Taldry wanted aid then why didn’t he come here himself?”

The mob around them clearly made the fulgcere as he tried to regain his composure, “I apologize your highness, but my lord is regretfully kept busy by other matters.”

Mortis looked to a certain seamstress shop, making one of the workers violently blush and bow her head, but it was unnoticed by Mortis, “But not too busy to be watching us, is he?” Suddenly Mortis furrowed his eyebrows, and turned away from the shop, “Coward.”

“Your highness I can assure you I can explain everything. If we could perhaps go somewhere…” the fulgcere glanced nervously around him, “private?”

Mortis ignored him, but soon the crowd parted much to the relief to the fulgcere. A massive tent made of murals of thousands of characters and events took up the three’s entire view. Umbren and the fulgcere gawked at the structure, but for different reasons. The fulgcere gawked at the sheer artistry of the structure as the cloth that made up the tent was weaved in a way that made it look like it had the capability to move, but unmoving and dead. Umbren gawked at its unimaginable aura of reverence that came from the structure. Most tenebrage never even came this close out of respect.

Mortis turned to the fulgcere and smirked, “Private enough for you?”

The fulgcere gave a gulp and nodded fervently.

“Keep a firm hand on your tongue fulgcere, for you’ll be speaking in front of Tenebrage today.”

The Fulgcere look of awe turned to one of indescribable terror

***

Umbren came to his destination with overwhelming disappointment. Mortis hadn’t allowed him into the altar even after much protest from him. Umbren had firmly believed that if a fulgcere was let into the sacred place, that surely, he would, but unfortunately that was not the case. Now he stood before a rundown tent like structure. The cloth that made it up was worn down from time. It was torn to such a degree tha it would be reasonable to assume that an animal was responsible for the damage. Though drunken duels were most likely the reason. Even now when the sun was at its peak in the sky, some Bluecloaks drunkenly stumbled out while others rubbed their temples with chagrin.

Umbren slowly parted the curtains that made up the entrance to the establishment, and he was greeted with exactly what he was looking for.

Tables and chairs were scattered around, more broken than others. Where there wasn’t any furniture, carpets and pillows dotted the floor. Most of the space was taken up by unconscious tenebrage. As Umbren entered he was nodded to by an old tenebrage missing an eye who was cleaning glasses behind a thin and transparent curtain.

The various tears that littered the tent let in sunlight illuminating a certain Greencloak, sitting at a table with his head in his hands. Umbren went ahead and sat across from him.

“Has Mortis’s lap dog taken time to come visit us?” Faldrid gave an amused smile.

Umbren sat down across from Faldrid, parting empty bottles as he did, “Is that what everyone’s calling me now?”

“Well yes, but of course not to your face. No Bluecloak would risk offending a Hound.”

The scar on Umbren’s shoulder began to ache from where Tenebrence tasted his flesh, “I still don’t see myself as one. I haven’t even met the others, and from the stories I’ve heard I don’t think I want to.”

Faldrid started to rub his chin where stubbles of a newly growing beard rested, “That’s not entirely true. Alsarie was a Hound at one point.”

Umbren raised his brow in surprise, but it quickly passed, “From the way she acts I can’t be that surprised. Though I can’t say she likes me at all,” Umbren looked to a tenebrage who let out a groan, “A previous Hound now Hand, but wears a green cloak. Why is that?”

Faldrid shrugged and leaned back in his chair, “Why don’t you ask her. A large group of Hands arrived around the same time we did.”

Umbren gave a dry smile, “Mortis wasn’t very…pleased by some of your decisions on the field.”

Faldrid gave out a sigh, “I won’t risk any unneeded loss. If Mortis isn’t happy with that then he can remove me from my position, but it’s not like he can afford to. After that disaster in Sangai the luxcians are becoming more aggressive, and that’s not even mentioning the political changes going on. General Amian is making moves I hear and any power gained by him is not a good sign for peace.”

Umbren looked around the bar as Faldrid went on his speel, Umbren noticed a lone figure in the corner with haggard posture and a sleeve that covered his entire left hand, staring into a singular cup.

Umbre nodded to the corner, “How much has Loutrin had to drink.”

Faldrid looked behind him at Loutrin, “He’s been like that since we got here. Just mumbling to himself.

“Hey Loutrin, you alright?” Umbren asked

Loutrin seemed to wake up from a daze and notice Umbren and Faldrid for the first time, “How could I be? How could any of us be? That new deal with the Geodine will ruin us!”

Faldrid rolled his eyes, “Oh that.”

Umbren had not heard of such a thing, “What trade deal?”

Loutrin blinked at him in disbelief, “What trade deal? You're with Mortis all the time! You're practically his lap dog. How could you not know?!”

Faldrid waved his hand, “Now Loutrin you don’t have to be like that. That deal won’t ruin us. I think it will actually benefit us. Our treasury was practically non-existent until it happened.”

Loutrin slammed his fist on the table and stood up, “At what cost!? Give away our Rena Root, our most valuable resource? We’re running out of it to begin with, with all the smugglers around. And for what? To finance this war? If we can’t afford it, why even bother? Why risk the suffering of the people?”

Faldrid furrowed his brow, “It’s true that there's an abundance of smugglers, but at least now we can somewhat control and benefit from the trade of the stuff.”

Loutrin clenched his fist and stormed out of the building, “Unbelievable,” he muttered.

Faldrid sharpened his gaze on the tenebrage’s back, and seemed like he was about to follow, but didn’t.

Another tenebrage stumbled past Faldrid and towards the exit. As he passed Umbren noticed the subtle movement of Faldrid’s hand.

Umbren smirked, “Faldrid I didn’t know…”

He was silenced when Faldrid placed an ornate black horn on the table, “What a fool, letting his guard down like that.”

Umbren started looking around the room, “Where is Relam?”

“How should I know? If you hadn’t been able to guess, the only person that would be able to remember last night is Loutrin. The only remnants of it is the damage to the pillars. I swear they’re gonna collapse one day at this rate.”

Umbren looked towards the pillars that held the cloth of the building up. They were undeniably in desperate need of repair.

Faldrid took the horn and placed it in his cloak, “So where is Mortis now, most likely meeting with the Hands no doubt.”

“No, he’s actually meeting with a fulgcere.”

Faldrid’s eyes widened in shock as his whole body seemed to freeze in place, “A fulgcere? Why?

“He said he had a message from his disciple Tal..I don’t really remember the name.”

Faldrid put a finger to his temple and glanced down, “What would Lord Taldry want with us? He barely gets involved in anything. Even when Yoshin was…” Faldrid gaze returned to Umbren, “And why aren’t you with them.”

‘They’re meeting in front of Tenebrage, and I wasn’t allowed in his resting place.”

Faldrid gazed down and mumbled to himself. Umbren tried to get his attention again, but it was to no avail as the Greencloak was consumed by thought.

Umbren shortly made his way out of the building, but Faldrid’s thoughtfulness must have rubbed off on him as he didn’t notice the small boy running towards him.

He ran into Umbren, sending them both to the ground and the papers he was carrying flying.

Umbren glared at the boy in frustration, but something about the boy caught him off guard. He seemed relatively harmless and weak, and looked at Umbren with a look of fear.

“You look familiar.” Umbren let out.