Umbren didn't really remember what had happened. He had collapsed shortly after the appearance of the disciples, and now he had awoken in a tent.

In the corner of the tent was a woman sitting in a chair watching over him. She wore all black attire, except her cloak, which was a dark green. Though her hood was down, Umbren could make out her green crescent eyes.

Upon seeing he was up, the woman gave a disinterested nod,"I will notify them that you are awake," she promptly walked out of the tent.

Umbren laid there and thought about the events that had occurred, and he suddenly started to violently shake.

"I killed them all, Loutrin, Miglo, Yorburn, all of them. No, no, no, that’s impossible...I couldn’t have done that. Could I? All I did was take my hood off. That couldn’t have led to all this...dear Tenebrage what have I done.”

Before Umbren could take the thought any further, the disciples walked into the tent with the woman from before carrying a spare chair. When the women sat the chair down, Lady Morta turned to her, "Thank you Alsarie, you can go now."

Alsarie bowed and left the tent.

Umbren blinked at the two grand figures. This was a moment he had been dreaming about his whole life. But inside he felt nothing but guilt, "My Lord? My Lady? What are you doing here? I’m sorry for my current state. I would have cleaned up if I knew...Please forgive me!”

"All we want to know is what happened at that Luxcian camp," Lady Morta said in a gentle voice.

Umbren looked them over. Lord Mortis was tall even by tenebrage standards, and he seemed to play the role of the tenebrage disciple quite well, for he looked very dignified, and it seemed as if he demanded and expected the respect of all those in the room.

Lady Morta on the other hand was quite different. She was small by tenebrage standards, she seemed humble and gentle. In fact, the only qualities that they shared were their unusual purple eyes, and cloaks, which were bright purple, and made of a material that Umbren couldn't identify.

Umbren sighed, letting his head drop, and told the disciples everything.

Lord Mortis thought it over, "I knew Yorburn was impulsive, but how could he have been that reckless."

"He said that despite the strange number of luxcians, that it would still be our best chance to infiltrate the camp," said Umbren

"But still," Lord Mortis looked down deep in thought, then looked up, "You said that when he fought the Luxcian general he wielded Cronai?"

"Yes."

"Hmm, who was this general? If he was able to kill Yorburn in a one-on-one duel then he is a dangerous one to look out for."

"If I can remember correctly his name was Ritoro."

At the name Lady Morta's eyes widened.

Noticing this Lord Mortis asked, "Do you know of him?"

"No, I'm afraid not, the name just sounded familiar. Though it is one we should remember."

Umbren nodded "I see... so what will be my punishment?"

"For what?" Lord Morta asked rather confused at the question

What does she mean by 'what.'

"A luxcian scout saw me, that is why all this has happened, so don't you think I should be punished?"

"No, not at all. It was a mistake; it could've happened to anyone." Replied Lady Morta.

Lord Mortis looked up in annoyance. "Why would I waste my time punishing you, you’re more valuable as a soldier."

Umbren was somewhat shocked and confused by the two disciples' remarks, “But..I was punished…It was all my fault surely…”

Morris’s irritation grew to anger, “I have made my decision and there will be no questioning it!”

Something inside Umbren snapped at the disciple’s remark, “No! It was my fault. Mine! I deserved to be punished! If it wasn’t for me all those people would still be alive!” Umbren’s hands started to shake uncontrollably.

Mortis’s glare grew violent at Umbren’s defiance, but Mortagently laid her hands on Umbren’s and looked back at Mortis in worry.

Umbren calmed himself through deep breaths, giving up on the topic, "Do you know if there were any survivors other than myself." He feared the answer he would get.

Lord Mortis slumped, as if dreading this question. "Unfortunately, only two others survived. One was another rookie like you who we found unconscious, and the other was a Hand of Morta who was playing dead."

"Hand of Morta... there was a Hand of Morta in our group!"

"Why yes, I believe her name was Thestra," responded Morta

"She was a Hand of Morta?! Why would you place such a person in our group."

"Well, even though they're supposed to guard me and Mortis, I often send some of them to participate in missions, and since Thestra was a rookie herself, I thought that your group's mission was an easy chance for her to gain experience in the field. Though it seemed to be more difficult than expected." Lady Morta bit her loop and looked to the floor, disappointed.

"Will I be able to see them?" asked Umbren.

"Of course," said Lord Mortis. "But you should be ready to move out tomorrow. I don't intend for that caravan to reach a luxcian city untouched."

"I understand." Said Umbren.

Lord Mortis and Lady Morta got up from their chairs and walked to the tent's entrance.

"I would recommend that you get a good night's rest. We move out in the morning." Lord Mortis said, with his back turned to Umbren,

Umbren nodded, and Lord Mortis exited the tent.

After Mortis left, he stopped and looked back at the tent. Noticing this, Morta asked, "What is it?"

"It's nothing," and with that the two left and checked on others in the camp.

Umbren sat thinking the conversation over. "No punishment? But I deserve to be punished. It was my fault for all of their deaths. If you die a soldier you aren't dying in vain? But what purpose did their deaths serve?"

Umbren clenched his fist, and thought these questions over.

Two people

Umbren repeated this thought over, and over again and his head. "Thank Tenebrage." When the luxcian general pointed to those tents Umbren thought all was lost, but two survived. Umbren immediately thought that he should thank them for being alive.

The woman, who had watched him before, walked into the tent, with a cloak in her hand and a belt. She laid it down on one of the chairs and left without even taking a single glance at Umbren.

Umbren got out of the bed and examined the things she brought. There was a black cloak made out of a very fine and durable material and the belt contained pouches with many throwing knives, and attached to the back of the belt was a kukri, a inwardly curved blade, The blade of the Black Crescent

Umbren was curious about how they found out how he preferred to use throwing knives, but he decided to put that question off. He put on the cloak and the belt and went outside.

The camp was alive. There were tenebrage grooming and feeding attoka. There were tenebrage carrying weapons back and forth from the blacksmith and soldiers. There were some tenebrage eating and talking around a fire. Umbren looked around the camp, and it struck him as interesting, just how different it was from the luxcian camp. The luxcian camp was somewhat organized, but this camp seemed like everything was just put down with no rhyme or reason.

Umbren decided that he should try to find Loutrin first. As he walked around the camp, he noticed that the mood felt a bit seldom, undoubtedly from the events that had happened, Umbren shivered at the thought of it.

Umbren found Loutrin sitting by a fire, cooking some sort of rodent. He sat down across from Loutrin on the other side of the flame. They both stared at the dancing flame crackling as it did so.

"I heard two others survived, had a feeling one of them was you." Loutrin said, still looking at the fire, his face unchanging.

"I just came to say thank you, I don't know what I would have done," Umbren paused and looked up from the fire. "If I was the only one," Umbren said.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

"Well, I guess it was good that I'm still standing," Loutrin said, now looking at Umbren with a smirk.

The silence between them began again, as they looked at the fire.

"You want some?" Asked Loutrin

"Hmm?" Umbren said, drawing his face from the fire

Loutrin nodded towards the rodent being cooked above the fire

"No, I'm not hungry, you can have it all." Umbren said.

Loutrin looked at Umbren, almost as if he was trying to read him, "Suit it yourself, more for me then."

The two stared at the fire again, the only sound coming from Loutrin eating.

"Loutrin?" Umbren asked

"Yes?" Loutrin's attention stayed on the rodent.

"Are you sure that you didn't see anything when you were checking on that light?" Umbren continued to look at the fire.

"Yeah, I'm sure, why?" Loutrin looked up from his dinner.

"It's nothing."

Loutrin stared at Umbren for a while then changed his attention back to his meal.

The silence fell between them again.

"Hello, my good men." Faldrid suddenly plopped down next to Umbren

The last time Umbren saw him was when he assigned him his task. That seemed so long ago. How long ago was it? A day? Mere hours? Umbren didn't know.

"Now I don't wanna bother you two for too long, so I will just come out with it. Can you please tell me what exactly happened?" Faldrid held a piece of paper and a quill, with a smile on his face.

Umbren stared at the bald man with disbelief. Whereas Loutrin chuckled to himself.

After seeing this, Faldrid sighed, and put down his piece of paper and quill. He then stared at Umbren with a more sympathetic look.

"I'm sorry for my bluntness, but I ask you to understand that many of my friends, my brothers died in mere hours, so I just want to know how."

"I understand, but I just told lord Mortis, and lady Morta, so you're gonna have to give me a while," said Umbren.

Disappointment crept onto Faldrid’s face, "Yes, yes, yes, I understand, take your time. It must have been very traumatic." He said, crossing his arms

As if just remembering his presence, Faldrid turned his head towards Loutrin with a hopeful and questioning glance.

Loutrin smirked, "Don't look at me like that. I was unconscious for all the notable events. All I remember is a sharp pain in my head and then nothing."

Faldrid nodded, not looking too pleased. "That's something I guess."

He turned back to Umbren, "I'll give you time, just tell your story when you're ready."

Umbren nodded half-heartedly and went back to staring at the fire. Despite the dreary atmosphere of the camp, you could still hear some conversation among other campfires and there was even a bit of laughter. As Umbren stared at the dancing flames he heard the singing of crickets and the animals of the forest near the camp. It was something he found refreshing since it broke the silence, but it also was unsettling at the same time. He had never heard such lively sounds at home.

"You ungrateful little…!"

The three turned their heads to the voice unanimously. It was around the campfire that the Hands of Morta shared. The girl in green that Umbren had seen when he had woken up was standing over another Hand, but he couldn't tell who.

"Come on, get up! Just because she won't punish you for your failure, doesn't mean I won’t. What's with that look, can't you do anything for yourself? Don't you hear me. Answer me Thestra, damn it!"

Umbren's eyes widened as he heard the name.

He didn't know why but his hands moved towards the knives at his belt. Loutrin saw this and smirked.

"I personally wouldn't recommend that." he said

Umbren shot him back a glare. Loutrin put up his hands defensively, but in a light-hearted manner.

Faldrid, noticing their conversation, looked at Loutrin then to Umbren's hand on his knife.

"Are you trying to get us killed!" He grabbed Umbren's arm. "You don't mess with them, especially not that one, especially not that one." He emphasized the last point.

Umbren was about to give a counter remark when a whistling sound went by them. The group looked towards the Hand's fire and saw the green cloaked women with shock on her face.

"What's this all about then?"

One woman walked towards them with a bow in her hand, as she got to the camp, she looked at the woman in green.

"Well? Alsarie, answer me."

Alsarie looked away from the women

"Well that's how it's gonna be." She looked towards Thestra, "Tell me, do you really think it's right to treat your junior like that. Even after they've been through so much?"

Alsarie picked up an arrow at her feet and handed it back to the woman without returning her gaze.

"Oh! Is that any way to treat your senior?" The woman said with her teeth clenched.

"Sadine!" Another women voice yelled

The group looked towards the source and saw a woman clad in a black robe.

"Vale, it's been a while, I see your sister is the same as ever." Faldrid said with a familiar smile.

"Oh, Faldrid, I didn't know you were here. It's nice to see you. How long has it been? A couple of years at least?"

"Really? I suppose it has been that long. Do you know what's going on?”

Vale shrugged and turned back to her sister, "Sadine, what are you doing? Don't be so rash. You're making a scene." She added the last part.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't just stand by and do nothing." Sadine yelled from the Hand's fire.

Vale turned to Faldrid, "I'll be right back."

She walked towards Sadine and Alsarie, "You didn't have to shoot at her though. Think before you act, why don't you."

As Vale arrived at the campfire, Sadine rolled her eyes and turned away slinging her bow over her shoulder.

Vale looked at Alsarie, "I don't know what happened, or why it happened, but please act in a way that more befits a Hand. We wouldn't want to disappoint Lady Morta, now, would we?"

Alsarie bowed reluctantly, "Please forgive me for my behavior, it won't happen again."

"It better not." Vale sighed.

Vale left the campfire and Sadine followed, the pair stopped at Umbren's fire.

The two sisters' appearances couldn’t be more different. Vale held herself that gave off an air of respect, whereas Sadine held herself in a more relaxed manner. Sadine’s hair was cut to her shoulders, while Vale’s hair was pulled back into a braid that fell down her back. Vale was tall and thin, while Sadine was more squat.

"Sadine, I see that you are still a bad shot with a bow." Faldrid said jokingly

"I missed on purpose and you know it." Sadine asserted

Vale smiled a bit and swatted loose strands of black hair from her face, "So, how have you been, not getting into too much trouble I hope."

"I've been doing what I've always done, planning and paperwork. I actually haven't been in battle in a while now that I think about it."

"That all sounds very tedious, hopefully you will be able to fight soon," Sadine said

"Tedious, but peaceful."

Vale frowned at his remark, and looked to Umbren and Loutrin, "Who may these two be?"

"Survivors," Loutrin poked the fire with a stick, his eyes stuck on the flames.

Vale's eyes widened, partially from how harsh the remark was, but her face soon rested into a sympathetic countenance.

"I'm sorry for what happened. It must have been very hard." Vale said

"Ohh…so you must be the other lucky ones besides Thestra." Sadine Added, which invoked a glare from Vale.

"Lucky is one way to put it," Umbren tore his eyes away from the fire and looked towards Vale. She stood with almost a perfect posture, which was a stark contrast to Sadine's slouched shoulders," But thank you for your sympathies."

Vale looked to take in every word as she nodded.

"That's right I almost forgot," Faldrid piped up. "I should offer my condolences. I heard that Madame Shelta died. I am very sorry. I knew both of you were close to her."

Sadine waved her hand, "It wasn't much of a surprise, she was already getting up there in age."

"Sorry for your loss." Umbren said. "If you don't mind me asking, how old was she?"

Sadine put her hand to her chin, "Umm, about fifty-four I would say. Right Vale."

Vale nodded. Though there seemed to be some pain in her face.

Faldrid put his hand to his temple, "fifty-four, wish I live to be that old."

"Don't we all?" Loutrin added

Vale looked towards the moon, "Well it's about time for us to go check on the other Hands."

Faldrid nodded, "See you later then."

The pair nodded and walked off.

"Hey, Faldrid I know it's not as peaceful as you would like but I would love to fight alongside you tomorrow." Sadine called back to them

Faldrid put his hand to his forehead and chuckled.

"Faldrid, who is Madame Shelta?" Umbren asked

"Hmm, well it makes sense you wouldn't know about her. She did retire around the time you were born. She was the leader of the Hands of Morta for most of her life up until her retirement. She seemed to be especially close to the two Hands you just met."

"Now that I think of it her name does sound familiar, but I'm surprised I didn't know more about her."

Faldrid shrugged, "She was very secretive, and even I don’t know much about her, but that’s not for lack of trying. The only thing I know for sure is that she’s Morta and Mortis’s daughter."

“Oh, that’s how I knew her name,” Umbren mumbled as he turned his attention back to the dying flames. He was put at ease by how such a chaotic thing could be controlled to provide such comfort.

***

The fire had gone out and everyone had left for their tents. Everyone except Umbren. He still sat on the log looking at the remains of the fire that had just been burning so brightly. Something bothered Umbren. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

All he could think about was the horrific scenes of the day; Master Miglo's body falling to the ground with a smile on his face. He remembered the first time he saw the tent, the one which held the consequences of his sin. But most of all he remembered Yorburn.

For some reason Umbren couldn't shake the image of him from his head. Him with his black blade. Umbren couldn't shake from his head the sword dance that had taken place in front of him. Even though he was busy dealing with the other luxcians, the two swordsman's duel had left a strong impression on him. Even though it could be argued that the fight ended with a cheap trick, it couldn't be said that the fight itself was anything but an example of pristine swordsmanship. However, the fact that the luxcian, Ritoro, had ended the mesmerizing duel so quickly sent a shiver down Umbren's spine. He was someone Umbren wished he wouldn't have to face anytime soon.

Umbren shook his head. The heroes from the stories wouldn’t just be sitting at a fire thinking about their mistakes. They would take action. They wouldn’t be crippled by failure. They would move forward.

As Umbren sat and pondered these things, a singular thought flashed through his head.

"The sword," he whispered.

Umbren remembered a pile of scrap weapons that lay on the camp's outer border.

He made his way towards the pile, careful not to disturb anyone. On his way he spotted other tenebrage, but they all were seemingly stumbling back to their tents to sleep for the night.

Finally, Umbren arrived at the pile. The pile itself contained a variety of weapons from a flail to brass knuckles.

Due to the shortage of weapons and resources of the tenebrage, they were forced to reuse weapons from fallen soldiers. This meant that tenebrage forces had to lug many weapons back to the nearest tenebrage, which could be a real burden depending on how successful the force in question was doing.

The pile itself was twice the size of Umbren, meaning that the weapon Umbren had in mine would be difficult to find, but Umbren continued on anyway. He searched through the pile inflicting many minor cuts on his hands. Though soon he came upon what he sought and pulled out the black blade, holding Cronai towards the sky.