Master Otaro was with the Duchess and the Duke. They were in the private receiving chamber behind the throne room. The Duchess was talking “To think we have two possible Favoured living in my fortress and another that left. I never noticed.” The Duke rested his hand comfortingly on the Duchess’ shoulder

  “Most of us can’t detect those with potential Leng, that is why Master Otaro is here.” He said nodding towards Otaro. The Duchess continued.

  “We let one slip away from us Tarion, with that dirty dovian of all people. Our numbers are so few now, soon there will be too few.”

“I believe one of my students is the protector.” Master Otaro said disturbing the Duchess’ morbid complaints.

“Which one?!” The Duchess said showing emotion more plainly than she normally did.

“I do not know; it could be any of them or all of them it seems it isn’t as strict as I thought.”

“And you are sure this protector exists, that you aren’t just imagining things, like the old man you are.”

“My feelings are rarely wrong Mrs. Leng, someone will rise to face the coming destruction,” Otaro said.

They felt it then, an explosion of magic, it wasn’t like any awakening he had felt, the magic was death with threads of darkness tangled through it, it latched to Otaro’s magic and he shook it off absentmindedly it felt of pain and hurt. Not good he thought, unstable awakening.

“An abomination.” The Duchess said.

“I wouldn’t go as far as that,” Otaro replied.

“A living being with the aptitude for death magic it is an abomination, this is truly the end times. It needs to be found; it can not roam free.”

Otaro could feel the cold influence of death magic, it was heading toward the courtyard, The Duchess and Duke followed after him. Otaro didn’t doubt that they could feel it too but locating its position was difficult to even the most ancient of the favoured. It was late at night but people were out of their rooms, even those who weren’t mages could feel the touch of death. They followed a dozen steps after the favoured, avoiding the presence of the Duchess but curious enough to follow.

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When they were almost at the courtyard the Duchess stepped ahead, she was always far too obsessed with matters of leadership, and Otaro fell back further in concession, better not to aggravate her.

Otaro heard a bone-curdling scream and then a shock of the Duchess’ magic he hurried forward to see what was going on. While he had expected something shocking he definitely did not think it would be this. A girl hung suspended in the air a pitch black claw where her hand should be was within a hair's breadth of a fox boys head, that was Magevaii he could feel him, the girl was small and lean, she had pale blonde hair almost white and matching pale skin surrounding startlingly grey-blue eyes now awash with fury and she wore a torn white dress, Death magic rolled off her in waves and he couldn’t help but step back a bit.

If she didn’t feel of death and did not wear that twisted expression of hate she would look exactly like naïve little Umbra. He thought. Wait, could it be? He searched through the hate, the pain and fury. And it was Umbra but she had changed beyond anything he could have imagined. No more could he feel the gentle girl she had been she felt only of death and pain. Otaro looked to the Duchess and saw the cold anger in the set of her shoulders, she was going to kill Umbra unless he did something.

Otaro rushed to Umbra’s side when she fell crumpled to the ground. He tried to support her head, but she lashed out weakly at him forcing to drop her and dodge out of the way of her hands. The ugly slashes on Umbra’s back were cauterized from the Duchess whip. He grimaced these would not heal; she will have them for the rest of her life, and it was his fault.

He bandaged her back threading what little magics of healing he knew into them. He put her on the useless bed in the other room, he had stopped sleeping long ago. The choosing ceremony came and passed, he didn’t appear, there was no point he would not take Magevaii, he guessed at what he had done.

He meditated on the air in his front room, time passed quickly a few days felt like minutes. He felt her wake up, he roused himself and made some tea giving her some time to herself. He had things he needed to tell her.

He carefully opened the door Umbra was lying on the bed lost in her thoughts and he felt then the blackness of her being roiling in her, uncontrolled and dangerous. He cleared his throat, and she looked over at him with those cold grey eyes. She was almost like the Umbra he had met in the alley scared out of her wits of the daughter of Ma’at, but now a roiling blackness twisted inside her and cold death magic diffused from her. She would have to resolve her being before we leave or it will consume her. He mused.

And he opened his mouth to begin his apology, Umbra’s cold grey eyes watched him with interest.