Umbren tugged on the tight collar of the suit he now wore, “Faldrid is this really necessary?”

Faldrid shook his head almost violently, “For the last time yes! It's a banquet! Hosted by the Disciples of Fulgcere themselves.”

The two were walking through the crowded tenebrage tents. Many Blueclocks gawked at the two’s appearance and some even laughed out loud.

Faldrid had gone out of his way to get him and Umbren something to wear for this banquet. Umbren didn’t very much enjoy the black suit he now wore, but couldn’t deny Faldrid’s gift or the eagerness in giving it.

“I just don’t see why I have to go. I don’t even know what a banquet is.”

Faldrid continued on without skipping a beat, “It’s a big fancy meal where people can discuss matters and flaunt their egos.”

“Why do I have to go again?”

“As the only Hound of Mortis here you must serve as a representative.”

Umbren couldn’t help but laugh, “If you wanted a representative, Alsarie is much more of a Hound than I am. Have you seen them?”

Faldrid looked back, his expression filled with irritation, “Yet you hold the title and she doesn’t.”

“A title doesn’t mean…”

Faldrid stopped and turned around to face him, lowering his voice, “You will go because we need you. Prince Aldaman and Mortis being in the same room being in the same room for too long could spell ruin for us all.”

“You want me to stop him.” Umbren’s mouth tasted like sand.

Faldrid gave a sigh, “Stop if you can, he’ll listen to you before he listens to me. At least you’ll be able to serve as a buffer of sorts.”

“Thanks.” He said dryly.

Faldrid waved his hand as he turned forward and carried on.

Umbren attacked his collar once more, it felt like each breath was more ineffective than the last, “Do I really have to wear this though? I mean the feast in Skotus didn’t call for such a thing.”

“We’re not in Skotus anymore, we have to carry out the customs they have here. Especially when we will be in front of so many disciples.”

Umbren suddenly gulped as a not started to form in his stomach. The reality of what he was walking into dawned on him. All those disciples that had only been legend before then in the same room, “I hope I don’t make a fool of myself.” he let out.

Faldrid turned back with a smirk, “I hope you don’t make a fool of us all. You or Mortis,” He ran his head over his bald head at his own words.

They finally broke through the tent and came before the palace. Morta consulted with Vale and Sadine while Relam seemed to be having a one-sided conversation with Mortis.

Morta, Vale, and Sadine wore silk gowns. Vale and Sadine’s were black while Morta’s was the same purple as her eyes. Mortis wore the same purple cloak and Relam had on a poorly made suit.

Mortis’ eyes widened at the two’s arrival. In response, Faldrid gave a simple bow.

Disdain seemed to come to Mortis’ eyes at that, “I am only allowing you to come because you make good conversations that I won’t have to be a part of.”

Mortis looked to Umbren with a smirk, “Look who’s gotten all dressed up.”

Umbren suddenly wanted to rip the ridiculous suit off of himself as his cheeks became red.

Morta and the others made her way over to the group. She had a beaming smile directed at Faldrid and Umbren, “You two look so handsome!”

Umbren’s face came to resemble a tomato.

Morta clasped her hands together as she looked to Faldrid with a twinge on disappointment, “You’re still wearing that scarf.”

Faldrid simply awkwardly laughed off the statement.

Vale came to his defense, “I’m sure he’ll take it off when he’s ready.”

Sadine scoffed, “He’ll wear that thing to the grave without telling anyone why.”

As Faldrid attempted to defend himself, Relam came behind Umbren, “Aren’t you excited!”

“More nervous than excited.”

Relam slapped him on the back, “Oh you shouldn’t be! It's an honor to be here! I was lucky enough to hear about in time and get something to wear.”

Umbren scanned Relam’s attire and its poor quality suddenly made sense, “Why are you attending the banquet?”

Relam looked to have been slapped in the face, but he recovered incredibly quickly, “It is my duty.”

“How so?”

“I am Relam Kymos, Herald of Tenebrage, I would surely throw dirt on my name if I didn’t come here tonight.” His tone was grandiose but his words seemed to drag it down.

“Alright then.” Umbren said in an unimpressed tone.

Relam took notice immediately, “And why are you here might I dare say.”

“I’m the buffer.”

“The what…” The color suddenly drained from Relam’s face as his eyes looked past Umbren.

Umbren turned and found a woman stomping over to them. She didn’t seem too happy either. Her face was a mixture of irritation and dedication. Umbren felt like he remembered her short cropped her from somewhere…

Faldrid heard the steps behind him and turned with a smile, “Talquin, how nice of you to join us.”

“Why is she here!” Relam almost shrieked.

“Someone needs to represent the Bluecloaks.” she grumbled.

By the way she walked, her dress seemed to give her more discomfort than Umbren’s suit. It wasn’t as nice as the Hands’ and Morta’s but it was much nicer than Relam’s suit at least. She even managed to find a dark blue one to match her rank.

“But I’m a Bluecloak,” Relam let out in confusion.

Talquin glared at him, “Hardly, do you really think you flaunting that damn horn around will be a good representation of Bluecloacks?”

Relam’s mouth went numb as his hand neared the horn at his side, “It is only right with my station…”

“No one cares about your station.” She growled

Relam’s jaw dropped as color surged back to his face, “What are you talking about!”

The two began to squabble, Relam more than Talquin, but Mortis seemed uninterested as he rolled his eyes and moved towards the fulgcere palace.

Morta followed and the Bow Sisters after with Sadine looking back with an amused grin at Relam.

Faldrid gave a sigh at them and gestured to Umbren to follow. Umbren took a deep breath and followed the group into the palace.

Talquin followed with a distraught Relam quick at her heels.

***

Umbren wished to Tenebrage that Faldrid had not dragged him here. He wished more so to be gone quite soon. The air was so tense it made him squirm in his seat. He wished he could get his hands on the one who made the seating arrangement. He was face to face with the luxcian prince, Aldaman. Who in their right mind would decide such a thing.

The rest of the seating was even more bizarre. All the tenebrage were all on one side of the massive wooden table. However, Umbren was closer to Morta than Vale and Sadine. Faldrid was even closer to Mortis.

Umbren took a sip of wine from the glass in front of him, “So much for being a buffer.”

As things stood, he was three seats down from Mortis, squished between Faldrid and Vale. He looked to his left at the Hands. His eyes caught the dark crescent on Sadine’s arm. Her dress oddly didn’t have a sleeve for her right arm, and he guessed that crescent was the reason. It had appeared right after they had walked into the light of the palace. Vale had a similar one that ran down her leg, her dress was made to show it off also.

Umbren didn’t know what the marks meant, but they vaguely reminded him of the one that appeared on the head Hounds face.

Across from Vale, to Umbren’s horror, sat Ritoro. Umbren shifted uncomfortably like the thought of the man would bring his attention.

Across from Sadine sat a woman in simple traveling garbs with a mask that depicted the sun being impaled by two spears. Umbren didn’t recognize who she was, but he swore he saw Sadine half snarl at her every now and then

Relam and Talquin sat together past them, still bickering about something. They sat across the fulgcere messenger, Caekeve and one of those blacked winged caetum. One of the same sat near the front of the table next to Lord Geb and the Healer. Lord Taldry and Lady Cere were of course at the head of the table.

The first manner of conversation of that night had been directed towards the caetum at the head of the table.

Taldry had asked where his Mistress was and in response the warrior replied, “We representatives.”

Taldry tried to dig more, but received the same response, “We representatives.”

Taldry soon became tired of it and began speaking in a flowing yet nasal language. Ever since then all members of the head of the table conversed in it. Umbren had looked to Faldrid when it first began but he gave a simple shrug, “I’ve never thought I would meet a caetum. No reason to learn the language. At least that’s what I had thought.” He sipped his wine with chagrin at that.

“So much for making good conversation.” Umbren had mumbled when Mortis was eventually pulled into the conversation by Taldry.

It was odd to see him and Morta speak that tongue. Especially because of how good they seemed at it. At points it sounded like they had a better grasp of the language than the caetum. To Umbren, looking at the caetum was like watching an animal talk.

“So, you’re the Hound from early, aren’t you?”

Umbren whipped his head around to gaze at the man in front of him. Prince Aldaman wore a self-satisfied smile as he spun his wine around in his glass.

Umbren gave a meager nod, prompting a brow raise from Aldaman, “I my experience Hounds are more bark than they are bite, and that even stalls to a whimper when my spear is through their chest.”

Umbren gulped. His mind was filled with so many thoughts that it might as well have been blank. Faldrid kicked his foot from under the table, jogging him back to reality.

“From my experience…they have both in strides.” Umbren didn’t sound too confident in his words.

The prince furrowed his brow, “That may be so…but it seems you might not bark at all. Maybe all bite then?”

Ritoro exhaled through his nose at that. A broad grin came to the Aldaman’s face at it, “What do you think Ritoro?”

Ritoro looked to Umbren with that same unreadable expression, “Certainly all bark and no bite.”

“Really!” Aldman said with surprise, “What makes you think that?”

“I don’t know if you saw your highness, but he would have been killed by that Apostle of Nilowin.”

The caetum towards the back snarled a little their way then went back to his business.

Prince Aldaman waved his hand, “Surely that’s inevitable. An apostle against a simple Hound, I don’t see that as fair.”

“No, it wouldn’t have been fair, but he should have gotten a few scratches in. As it is his technique is not dreadful but average.”

“I wouldn’t call every Hound a master combatant though?”

Ritoro seemed to stare through the table, “Not a master, but their brutality and tenacity make up for it. Usually, a Hound will use their life as a weapon to kill one luxcian. From what I saw today, it was hardly a spectacle of a Hound. If I had not arrived, it would have been a slaughter.”

Vale smirked at his words, “You make it sound like you did all the work.”

Ritoro smiled with his eyes, “Yes of course. Though I have to admit I had some doubts that the old signal would work. I’m sure I would have found a way through it eventually.”

Vale gave a slight laugh, “Of course I would remember, Madame Shelta drilled it into us like it was no tomorrow.”

Sadine bit her nails, “Spent more time in the palace than training it seemed though.”

Vale gave an irritated smile, “I was being trained in other things then.”

A pleased grim appeared across Prince Aldaman’s face, “Yes, I remember you trailing behind Morta in the palace all the time. It seems to have paid off; you look to have grown into a fine woman. Don’t you agree Ritoro?”

Vale put her hand over her mouth with an embarrassed smile, “Please you’ll make me blush.”

Sadine rolled her eyes at it all and went back to glaring at the mysterious woman across from her. The woman didn’t appear to care that much about it.

“How is the wound holding up?”

Umbren turned to the Healer across from him. Conversation in the caetum tongue had not yet ceased, but he may have just gotten bored.

Umbren shrugged, “It seems to have healed alright, but I still can’t feal the area around it.”

The Healer gave a tired sigh, “Yes, if that’s the case then I’m afraid you might never regain it.”

“That’s fine, I don’t think I ever really needed that anyway.”

The Healer’s lips briefly twisted with concern, but eventually settled into a relieved smile, “I’m glad. Have you talked to the one that did it?”

“Alsarie? Yes, but I’m not sure if she feels sorry about it or not.”

A feminine voice came up from down the table, “Alsarie?”

Sadine almost jumped at the turn of the masked woman’s head.

“Did you say Alsarie?” The mask woman asked.

Umbren simply nodded

“Ahhh…Where is she now? I would love to see her.” The woman’s voice was refined and smooth, but had a certain edge to it.

“Babysitting.” Sadine remarked, still glaring at the woman.

“Babysitting.” The woman spit the word out, “you tenebrage waste her talents.”

Sadine looked as if she tasted something bitter, “Don’t act like you aren’t one of us.”

The woman’s body seemed to jerk upright, “How dare!....”

Ritoro grabbed her shoulder and whispered something in her ear, and she calmed down.

“I would simply like to see my sister is all.” she said through a heavy breath.

Vale took a small sip of the wine in front of her, “You aren’t her sister, not anymore.”

“Once a sister always a sister. I would think the Hands of Morta would agree.”

“Perhaps, but you still won’t see her. Do you have any other demands you would like to make of us?” she said mockingly.

The woman put a finger to her mask, “You know, when I came to this dinner, I expected to see some of your best fighters. By doing so I believed I could carry out my father's orders. However, Alsarie is nowhere to be seen…”

“Get to the point.” Sadine barked.

“Where is the young girl with an eyepatch. My father is excited to meet her again.”

Different reactions came from around the table

Umbren gawked at her. Faldrid coughed on his wine. Ritoro glared at her. Morta froze for a moment. Taldry couldn’t help but smile. Vale and Sadine gave the woman murderous stares.

“What could you ever want with her.” Vale let out.

The whole table had turned its attention to the conversation after Morta and Taldry’s reactions at the head. Geb, the caetum, and Senka, appeared a bit confused as they whispered among themselves. The caetum didn’t appear to care much about the situation at all.

The woman tilted her head, “You can’t be serious. After what she did, it’s only just that my father would come looking for her.”

The two Hands looked at each other in confusion then around the table. Sadine eventually caught Faldrid’s smile.

“So that madman actually meant it. He really wants her as one of his Daughters.”

Sadine’s lips slowly turned to a grin and soon she was laughing uncontrollably, “Your father or whatever, General Amian, wants to make Thestra a Daughter!?” she began to bang her fist on the table, “That man must be an idiot!”

Even Vale couldn’t help but smirk.

A ripple of rage ran through the woman’s body as she jumped out of her chair. Ritoro seized her hand with a stern expression.

After a moment or two, the woman threw him off with a snarl and stomped out of the room, walking past a flustered fulgcere on her way out the door.

“Make sure to tell him what I said!” Sadine shouted at her, still possessed by laughter.

The flustered fulgcere hurriedly walked towards Lord Taldry and whispered something in his ear. Taldry’s eyed widened then his face contorted into a nervous grin, “My apologies everyone, but it seems that there is a matter I must attend to.”

He got up from his and shuffled out of the room, “The food should be out soon!” He called back.

As he left all those in the room simply stared dumbfounded. However, the caetum didn’t seem to mind.

Before anyone could mention something else, a luxcian soldier sauntered up next to the prince, whispering in his ear. The prince nodded at his words with a smile, and when the luxcian left he gave a reminiscent sigh.

“Such an amazing reunion in so many ways.” He motioned his hand towards the head of the table, “Of the disciples, if not all of them,” He swept his hand in front of him towards Vale, Sadine, and Ritoro, “And one of old friends.”

Morta began to clutch the table as Mortis stared daggers at the prince, but he didn’t seem to care.

“You reminisce about the old times. How you were all trained by Madame Shelta, and Morta. I’m surprised that hunters name hadn’t come out of your mouth…what is his name again…”

“Liandell,” Sadine let out her eyes narrowing into a cautious glare with each passing second.

“Ahh…yes Liandell. He was the only one that didn’t betray our trust in the end,” he gave side glance to Ritoro who had taken a special interest in a window across the room.

He stood up from his chair, “Tell me Vale and Sadine how many luxcians fell to your bow that day. How many luxcians were SLAUGHTERED by Shelta’s kukri? Can you tell me that.”

Ritoro seized the prince’s hand, and outrage burst forth onto his face, “Don’t touch me! How many luxcians did you murder that day?”

Ritoro averted his gaze, but Aldaman continued, “My father might have forgiven you, but I will never forget.”

“Betrayal!” Aldaman called out, “I will never forget the taste of it,” he spat.

Everyone he spoke of avoided his eyes except for Sadine who stared him down silently.

“Do you still not have any excuses? Any REASON!”

After a moment of silence Sadine spoke, “My lady spoke, so I followed. I would do it again a thousand times over.”

If words could leave a wound, Aldaman wouldn’t be standing, “Something so simple…”

Faldrid put his hands together and pleaded, “Prince Aldaman this is not the place…”

The prince jabbed his finger at him, “You! The failed messenger.”

A shiver ran down Faldrid’s back, “I tried…”

“You tried! Tell that to the thousands of luxcians whose bodies were never even recovered and the thousand more still that died of that illness.”

Mortis almost laughed, and the expression on the prince’s face turned to one of sheer horror mixed with rage, “You laugh! You laugh at the death of innocence.”

“I gave Soluriel his warning. That was my mercy. He was the one that chose not to listen. Pray that I am as merciful next time.”

“You are a monster.” Aldaman spat, “To hell with you. To hell with all of you!”

Aldaman turned and walked out of the room as Mortis sipped his wine, “Fine with me, it's Tenebrage’s domain.”

A line of fulgcere started to march through the door with silver platters.

Cere stood with a clap of her hands, “The food is finally here. I apologize for the wait.”

Not many at the table had an appetite left for it.