Umbren sat outside of Faldrid’s tent with Faldrid, Caekeve, and the disheveled Bluecloak. After they had discovered Thestra and the others in the bush, Motis requested that he Morta and Thestra meet in the disciple’s tent. Everyone else was banned from interfering, including Umbren. Umbren was unsure if he made the right decision not to protest Mortis’s demand, especially because Mortis’ attitude towards the young Hand would most likely make him overstep his bounds in his conversation with Morta. Though his reaction was in stark contrast to Alsarie who gave a spiteful glare at Thestra when Mortis made his demands, luckily she begrudgingly heeded them.

Umbren glanced at Mortis’ tent and remembered what he had said about having faith, but Umbren couldn’t bring himself to have complete faith in the man. He wondered if what happened in Sangai would have happened if others hadn’t completely trusted his actions. There was also the vow he made to Mortis a year ago in that forest near Haden, he wouldn’t let it slip so easily.

Umbren turned his attention back to the group he was with, “I’m sorry but I never got your name before.” His question was directed towards the Bluecloak.

“It’s Mordrin.” He said curtly.

Caekeve seemed to be eager to question Faldrid even more, but even he had a limit on the excitement he could summon up on one topic, so he changed it, “Not a man of many words are you Mordrin. Glad you haven’t changed much in these turbulent times.”

Mordrin gave a brief shrug, “You might say they’re turbulent, but for me they haven’t changed. Someone commands me and I carry them out.”

“Aren’t you humble? You know Umbren he’s the best tracker under Mortis’s command.”

Umbren recalled the black mist that he spread out through the forest, “So you use that mist to track people then.”

Mordrin picked up a stick and started tending to the fire, “Whatever that mist touches is known to me, so yes.”

Faldrid let out a light laugh, “Humble yet again. He’s actually the only person in the Black Crescent that can use his blessing in such a way,” A cynical smile appeared on Faldrid’s face, “Yet he refuses to teach anyone else. Even Morta’s best tracker has an apprentice.

Mordrin looked up from the fire at Faldrid with a slight glare in his eyes, “I don’t intend to become useless master, especially by my own hand.”

Faldrid shook his head modestly, “I meant no offense, and there’s no need for you to call me master.”

A tense quit overcame the group that not even Caekeve felt comfortable breaking. Though Umbren spoke up.

He had taken notice of a hideous scar on the Bluecloak’s face that was reminiscent of a beast’s claws, “Is that a result of one of your hunts.”

Mordrin placed a hand on his cheek and gave a nod, “We were pursuing luxcian forces out of the border towns. Lord Mortis wanted to make sure that not a single one remained. Though one luxcian general wouldn’t fully retreat, and decided to play a game of cat and mouse with his force and the one I was a part of. For five days and five nights we hunted each other relentlessly, and on the second my Greencloak was pierced through the lungs with an arrow of light. The luxcian general was a weird one also, instead of using a polearm he chose to use these golden claws and a hook.”

“So, what happened at the end of the five days?

Mordrin slowly swept away his cloak to reveal a golden claw holstered on his belt, “I took these as payment for what he did to my face.”

Faldrid gave a hearty clap, “Well, I guess you're not a man of few words all the time.”

Mordrin didn’t seem to hear him as he nodded to Umbren, “So where did you get yours,” and he pointed to the right side of Umbren’s face.

Umbren slowly held his hand to a line that went from his temple to the bottom of his chin, and the man with his unreadable expression came to his mind. It was the most vulnerable Umbren had ever felt, “Sangai,” He let out, in low whimper.

Caekeve, who had just been listening, let out a, “ah,” and spoke in an eager tone, “So you were also there that day. Faldrid has been unusually tight-lipped about the events that transgressed that day, so…”

The fulgcere didn’t want to ask, but Umbren understood what he was implying, “The only thing I’ll say is that the only reason why me and Faldrid are alive today is because of the girl that the disciples are talking to right now, and I’ll never be ashamed to admit that.”

Faldrid gave a nod, agreeing with everything that Umbren said, but Caekeve looked to the disciple’s tent with eagerness, “Oh really? I wonder what stories such a girl has.”

“Don’t even try it.” Faldrid said with a bitter taste in his mouth.

The fulgcere also caught a glare from Umbren, and went silent. This silence appeared to be permanent, but someone else appeared to break it once more.

“Oh, are you talking about Sangai! What a great night, I really proved myself to Mortis then…I think.”

The group looked up to see a boy with an ornate horn on his waist walk up to them. Faldrid was the first to reply with the same voice he had spoken to the fulgcere with, “I hope you’ve taken better care of that horn Call of Tenebrage.”

Relam blushed a bit and smiled at Faldrid’s remark, “Don’t worry I am. In fact, that’s what I’m doing right now. Those other Bluecloacks are not the funniest to be around. I swear my horn will be stolen by the night’s end if I stay over there. They’re all just jealous I think, especially this one girl…a real pain in the-”

Umbren cut him off, talking bad about someone else was never a good decision when everyone was camped in close proximity, “Wow Relam, I didn’t think you could be so confident.”

Mordrin gave a stiff chuckle, “You should see him when Mortis is around.”

“Can you blame me!” Relam let out, but he apparently surprised even himself with the remark and looked around panically, “Where is Lord Mortis anyway.”

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“Well…”

***

“I expect a thorough explanation of this.” Mortis said with his hands crossed.

Morta furrowed her eyes at him, irritated that he had gotten involved with the Hands business, and Thestra was on her knees with her head held meekly, even she knew the mistake she made.

Morta spoke in a tired voice, but held a nonchalant posture as if the whole ordeal was a regular occurrence, “One of my Hands stepped out of line and followed us here,” Morta glared at Thestra, “She must have wanted to prove herself somehow in the coming days.”

“That’s not what a meant,” A mix of disappointment and annoyance could be heard in his voice, “Don’t play games with me Morta.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Morta said sourly.

Morta motioned to Thestra, “You expect me not to question her existence at all? She shows up in Sangai with Shelta and Yoshin’s Kukri, and is a Burned One. You expect me not to question that! Who is she, Morta? I didn’t ask that night last year because the shock overcame me, but it was as if she disappeared from my grasp after that.”

“It all seems pretty self-explanatory to me,” Morta casually remarked

“Self-explanatory!?” A furious roar of shock permeated the tent.

Morta held her hand to her temple as if the whole situation was a bother, “She was Shelta’s apprentice, so after her death I took her in. I was glad to have someone as talented as her.”

“How could she be her apprentice? Look how young she is, barely fourteen it looks like.”

Morta had no response to that

Mortis took a conscious step towards his wife, “Are you telling me that our daughter disappeared for the final years of her life in order to raise a child. She disappeared when we needed her most to raise her!”

Mortis started to tremble from rage, but Morta held up a finger and stopped him momentarily, “You missed something in your logic Mortis. Shelta raised her which means…”

Mortis froze in place, “Are you saying she’s her daughter?”

“What else could I be implying? As I see it Shelta lives on through her, so I didn’t hesitate to make her a Hand.”

A purple energy started pulsing through the tent as Mortis’ face contorted into a scowl, “Shelta lives on through her? Don’t make me laugh. SHE’S THE ONE WHO TOOK HER AWAY FROM US!” Tenebrence appeared out of mid-air.

Thestra instinctively went to her kukri, but as darkness spread through the tent, her hand slid from the hilts.

Morta held Night in her hand as clouds of darkness swirled around her, clashing with the purple energy coming from Mortis.

Morta held her ground, not giving in inch, “My decision is final Morta, and it is one that you will never be able to change, so stop acting like a child.”

The two disciples glared at each other with enough intensity to kill a normal person that dared to walk in on their confrontation. After a minute a desperate look came to Morta’s face as she realized what would happen if the situation escalated further, “Please Mortis, for Shelta.”

Mortis clenched his teeth, and suddenly the pulsing ceased and Tenebrence went back into the void. Morta followed suit dispersing her darkness and sheathing Night.

Mortis wordlessly moved to the entrance of the tent, but not before looking at Thestra, “You never even flinched. Your Hand only moved to your weapon. Morta’s words might be true, but I need more proof than that. I expect a duel in the near future, and you can’t refuse.”

Thestra gave a wordless bow as Mortis exited the tent.

When Morta met the night air, he also encountered Umbren who was almost breathless. The scene from inside must have been apparent to the whole camp. Umbren looked to speak, but with one single glance from Mortis he was silenced, and the disciple went off by himself.

Morta and Thestra remained in place, each still feeling Mortis' presence as his words cut like a knife into both of them.

Thestra still hung her head and slowly let her hand fall numbly to the ground, “Am I a replacement to you?”

Morta averted her gaze from her daughter, “Don’t take too much of what he says seriously. He loved Shelta more than anything else, especially after what happened to Yoshin.”

“Don’t take it seriously,” Thestra gave a half-hearted smile to herself, “Even after his praise?”

“Don’t try to impress him. Yoshin tried, and Shelta gave up on it when she was young.”

“Hey,” Thestra’s voice got caught in her throat and she faltered as she tried to fight it, “If he loved Auntie so much, then why did she hate him.”

Morta grimaced at her daughter’s comment. She started to explain, but shut her mouth before words came out.

Thestra slowly stood up, shaking her body as if to get used to her own skin. As she left the tent, an indecisive expression covered Morta’s face as she watched her leave. When Thestra reached the tent's entrance, it was slowly drawn back revealing Umbren who was caught off guard by Thestra appearing in front of him. However, Thestra’s face was stone as she walked past Umbren, bumping into him as she passed

Umbren looked to Thestra then to Morta in concern. Morta now wore a reassuring smile, comforting Umbren a little.

“I’m sorry that I interrupted.” Umbren said

Morta waved his apologies away, “No your fine. They were already leaving anyway. I hope my Hands didn’t give you too much trouble when you tried to get in here.”

Umbren slowly made his way into the tent, “No My Lady, none of them got in my way. I actually didn’t see too many.”

Morta walked over to where a vase of water and some wooden cups sat, “Can’t say I’m surprised. I’m sure they heard our…argument from outside, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Alsarie held back the ones that did want to interfere,” amusement briefly came to Morta’s face, “Though I’m sure she didn’t intend on you getting in here because of that.”

Umbren couldn’t help but give a lackluster smile. He would have to make sure Alsarie doesn’t see him when he leaves. She didn’t like him last year, and he suspected that his image of him only worsened.

Morta poured Umbren a cup of water and gave it to him, “So what is it you wanted to talk to me about. If you wanted to meet Mortis, I’m sorry to say that I don’t know where he is.”

Umbren accepted the cup with a gracious bow, “No, I just wanted to make sure that Mortis didn’t do anything…unforgivable.”

Morta gave a little chuckle, “You really are his little advisor, aren’t you? What have I heard some of the Hands call you, his lap dog. Far from a Hound I would say.”

Umbren slipped on his water, trying not to betray himself, and showed his embarrassment to Morta as she went on, “Not like that’s a bad thing though. The Hounds aren’t the friendliest people, so I was glad when I received the news from Vale.”

“Thank you for your concern my lady, but I came to see if you were well.”

Morta once again let out a soft laugh, “You sound like one of my Hands. Make sure not to confuse yourself. It’s important to know who you serve. If you don’t, then you won’t be able to perform the role you were given well. Focus on helping Mortis, I already have the Hands to help me.”

“But lady doesn’t Mortis have the Hounds. Surely if I were to serve you a little, it wouldn’t harm Mortis?” Umbren asked.

Morta looked as if her water tasted off, “The Hounds can’t support Mortis. Hounds only have one thing in mind, to kill luxcians. Mortis can’t truly rely on them.” Morta hopefully glanced at Umbren, “Can you promise me something Umbren?”

Umbren eagerly nodded. What the promise could be never even came to his mind when he agreed.

“Don’t lose yourself, okay? Life as a Hound takes a toll. Mortis has been sheltering you this past year. I expect that won’t last much longer. You won’t be able to accomplish your goal if you forget why you started down your path in the first place. I have seen such things happen to those close to me.”

Umbren bowed deeply with pride in his heart, “I promise my lady. I will never stray from my path.”

Morta gave a satisfied nod, “Now you better return to your tent. If you stay any longer the Hands might find out you came in without them noticing, and I don’t think you want that to happen.”

Umbren agreed with her sentiment. Especially after he imagined Alsarie shoving a spear through his heart.

He bowed once more and promptly made his way towards the entrance before Morta called out to him, “Also Umbren, make sure to have some faith in Mortis. I know it may be hard sometimes, but it's necessary, trust me.”

“Of course, my lady.” Umbren said, but his voice faltered a bit.

After he left, Morta spoke to herself in an exhausted tone, “Someone has to. I don’t think I can anymore.”