“He spoke to me…”
Caekeve had been mumbling to himself ever since he arrived in the plaza with the tenebrage.
“Yes, he did, but now are you going to help at all or just sit there.” Faldrid said, a bit annoyed.
Umbren, Faldrid, and Caekeve stood around the giant ornate fountain in the middle of the plaza. Around them, Bluecloaks and Hands scurried about setting up camp as stars shone down on them from overhead.
Umbren turned with a smirk to Faldrid, “We’re not doing anything are we?”
Faldrid shook his head, unaltered by the comment, “There’s not much for me to do after giving orders. I’m just here to answer questions. Luckily, none have come. Though I’ve already set up my tent, have you?”
Umbren averted his gaze from Umbren’s knowing eyes, but this only left a smile on Faldrid’s face, “But I never remembered you setting up a tent the previous nights.”
Umbren was about to retort, but Caekeve spoke up in a dreamy tone, seemingly unaware of the other two’s conversation, “I wish I could have talked to him more,” suddenly a long groan left his lips, “Why did I have to come here!?”
At his comment, Umbren looked around and noticed the absence of any fulgcere in the area. Faldrid noticed this and made a comment to Caekeve, “I’ve heard that fulgcere are inquisitive creatures. Honestly, I’m a bit disappointed. I thought we would be swarmed by now.”
“We are not simple creatures, tenebrage. Though what you’ve heard isn’t baseless. The fulgcere are keeping their distance out of respect for Lady Cere, and Lord Taldry.”
“So, we will be swarmed eventually?” Umbren asked
“Eventually.”
Faldrid gave a slight amused smile at that, but it deepened as he saw a downtrodden figure walk towards them, “What happened to you Relam?”
Relam’s voice was filled with frustration, “That damn woman! Who does she think she is? I was doing nothing wrong, but just because she didn’t agree with how I was doing things, she sent me away!”
Umbren gave Faldrid a confused glance, “Who?”
“A conceited bluecloak. Though she does back it up, she might even receive a green cloak one day.”
“A green cloak!” Relam let out, “If I can’t get a green cloak, what chance does she have? Over my dead body!”
“Well, you’re going to die sooner rather than later then, Relam.” Umbren put in.
“What! Do you think I won’t get one before her! I’m the Herald of Tenebrage!”
“If you keep changing that title, no one’s going to take you seriously, especially Mortis. Even now I believe that he’ll never give you a green cloak out of spite, much less before her.”
“She doesn’t deserve it though! What has she done to get it!”
Faldrid gave a sigh, “She hasn’t gotten the cloak yet Relam, calm down. But if I may ask a question, what have you done to deserve it? Or maybe how much do you even know about her? Do you even know her name?”
Relam began to speak, but grappled for words, and ended up gazing at the fountain's waters.
Faldrid motioned to Relam, “Don’t be like that. How is the camp coming?”
“I can’t speak for the Hands, but before she sent me away, we were nearly done. She’s probably going to take credit for it all when Lord Mortis and Lady Morta get back.”
Faldrid gave a brief nod, “Good, we don’t want the disciples to get back and deal with any problems. Their talks with Fulgcere’s disciples will likely leave them…less open to mistakes.”
Caekeve gave a sharp laugh, “What are you trying to say? That my lord and lady are some types of burden on your disciples?”
Faldrid waved away the fulgcere’s questions, “whenever disciples get together, they are less than amiable. I saw it first hand during the peace treaty, and just because the Soluriel are absent, doesn’t mean it will be less tense.”
“My lady and lord, just want to make a simple request, and Morta and Mortis heard it, and agreed to come. Why would there be any trouble?”
“Where there’s a request; there’s an exchange, and exchanges are hardly ever equal. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, that I can stake my life on, it’s that disciples don’t like their authority being undermined by others, not even other disciples.”
The end of Faldrid’s words was accentuated by the uniform movement of all the tenebrage turning towards the palace in front of them.
The plaza that the tenebrage were camped in was surrounded by all sides. In front of them, a palace with blue and purple columns towered over them. What was interesting about the building was that a large tower sprouted out from its roof. To their right stood a building of similar design, but markings of the fulgcere script covered every inch of it, and its columns appeared less elaborate than the palace. Also, the entrance to the plaza was divided by a marble tower which the tenebrage were transported to when they arrived in Canalith. However, as unfamiliar these buildings appeared to the eyes of a tenebrage, the structure to their left was an enigma.
A simple black cube towered over them.
That was the only way to describe it. Its coloring was in sharp contrast to the bright color of the other two buildings and even the fountain. What was even more peculiar was the fact that there didn’t appear to be any doors or windows. Not many tenebrage tents sat near it.
“His request is impossible, isn’t it? It just can’t be done. Right?”
“I don’t care if it’s possible. Why should we care when they haven’t done anything for us? Never thought Taldry could be so entitled.
“Don’t be like that Mortis. There’s still much more to discuss in the coming days. Though I am bothered by the news about Talthia. Is she really alright Geb?”
Mortis appeared followed by Morta and Geb from the wall of tents in front of the group around the fountain.
All bowed except for caekeve, some deeper than others.
Faldrid was the first to greet Mortis “How did it go my lord? I’m sure you had much to talk about with…”
Mortis’ face soured with anger as he barged past Faldrid , “Yes, we did, and still more to come I wager.”
Mortis and Morta’s tent was placed next to the fountain with a fair amount of space between the tents around it, and Mortis went straight into it, violently parting the entrance, “And make sure that fulgcere doesn’t loiter around my tent!”
Caekeve jumped at that
Geb looked on the tent with a disappointed sigh and turned to Morta, “It seems he didn’t take Taldry’s words well. Would you like to get dinner? I would like to talk without the worry of politics.”
Morta held her gaze on the tent then looked to Geb with a smile, “I would love that. You know I would, but if I leave him alone like that, he’s likely to come up with some unsavory ideas. Maybe another time.”
Morta slowly made her way into the tent without another word.
The group that was left had a few different reactions. Caekeve bit his nails out of nervousness, Relam lamented over how Mortis didn’t even notice him, and Umbren stared at Geb.
Umbren had never seen a geodine before, and he doubted many other tenebrage had. The man in front of him was a head taller than the tenebrage around him, and appeared to be strong enough to throw any of them miles away with little effort. His outfit flowed like silk, but looked like metal armor.
Luckily, for Umbren the geodine disciple’s circular pupils remained fixed on the tent in front of him.
The situation remained much the same until it was broken by Faldrid clearing his throat, “ yoen fullen Geb a ta. Dre gu tere mu, ron coun ge kitera. Ronav uio vera a oie joi Geodini. (Greeting oh great Lord Geb. If you wouldn’t mind, I could join you. I have always wanted to practice my Geodini).”
Geb’s eyes widened with satisfaction as he gazed at Faldrid, “U Tenebrage fer coun yeren Geodini. Ronal promas. (A Tenebrage that can speak Geodini. I’m impressed).”
“Fullen Tere yerevan uon ronam. (Your words honor me Lord).”
Geb gave a pleased grin, “Hernan, fe joinas grenad ea reonal ualen. (Come. It grows late, and I am hungry.)
Geb led the way as Faldrid followed, speaking the strange words that Umbren had never heard before. He turned to Faldrid and Caekeve, “What did they say?”
Caekeve looked up from biting his nails with an annoyed expression, “Are you tenebrage so ignorant that you can’t even speak Geodini. Unbelievable.”
“How do you even learn something like that?”
Caekeve started to wave his arms around as his irritation grew, “Have you ever heard of reading? Try that before you ask me anything else. Really, I have more important things to worry about.”
Umbren tilted his head at that. He had never thought about learning such a thing. He believed that few tenebrage did.
“Can you teach me?”
Caekeve’s eyes widened in surprise, “Didn’t you hear me!? I don’t have time to help you.”
“What could you possibly be busy with?”
“Didn’t you just hear! Your lord doesn’t want me around! How can I please my lord, if I can’t do what he asked!?”
“I can make him change his mind.”
“I bet not!”
Umbren turned his attention to Relam. Caekeve wasn’t going to help him in any way. Even if he made Mortis love the fulgcere. Though then again Umbren was starting to think that he couldn’t make Mortis do anything.
“Hey Relam, do you know how to read?”
Umbren’s words knocked Relam out of his trance with a laugh, “Read? What do you take me for? A Hand? Of course, I can’t read. Why would you think that?”
Umbren shrugged, “I don’t know. I mean you have a last name, don’t you?”
Relam spoke in a sardonic tone, “Yeah Kymos, but it’s not like anyone cares of late.
Caekeve let out a light chuckle, “With a name like that what did you expect.?”
Relam glared at the fulgcere, “What did you say?”
The two got into a useless argument that Umbren didn’t care about that went nowhere and ended in Relam going back to his tent and Caekeve leaving to return to his board.
Umbren sat in front of the disciple’s tent glad for some quiet. It had been a long day for everyone, so it didn’t seem like any of the camps was keen on staying up any later. Umbren let his eyes close as sleep started to overtake him, but before that could happen, he heard light footsteps approach him, and at the same time an argument erupted from the tent behind him. Umbren opened his eyes to find that the owner of the footsteps was nowhere to be seen.
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The next day the fulgcere showed themselves. Umbren was woken up by a swarm of them walking around, questioning the tenebrage and selling their arts. One even tried to sell Umbren a painting of the ocean before he was awake enough to clearly see it.
Umbren denied the painting with much effort, and looked to the tent entrance behind him. He could tell that no one inhabited it, and with much chagrin he reprimanded himself on how he could possibly miss the disciple’s departure. Though he should have expected it.
With nothing else to do he wandered throughout the camp, and it didn’t take him too long to encounter Caekeve.
Caekeve spoke before Umbren, “Oh, it’s you. Do you happen to know where any of your superiors are?”
“Superiors? Who do you mean? Mortis? Morta? Faldrid? The Bow Sisters?”
Caekeve furrowed his brow at Umbren’s confusion, “The person in charge. Because it’s certainly not you.”
“Try the Hands tents. I don’t know if they’ll entertain you or shoot you.” Umbren said dryly.
Caekeve gave no attention to Umbren’s tone or warning, and bowed, “Thank you.”
As Caekeve started off, Umbren called back to them, “Why are there so many fulgcere here?”
Caekeve waved away, “What did you expect? New people to learn from, and art starved customers. Besides you did set up camp in front of the Hall of Knowledge.”
Umbren looked behind him at the building covered in fulgcere script. Many fulgcere seemed to be coming to and from the direction of it. He questioned himself about what they could possibly be doing in that building, but it was none of his business.
The day took him around the camp, witnessing the arts of the fulgcere. There were paintings, poems, and songs. Umbren was so preoccupied with these great things that he barely took notice of the position of the sun, and before he knew it, it was evening.
Mortis and Morta returned around that time, and Umbren was there to greet them at the fountain. Well, he tried, but Mortis barged into his tent while Morta gave Umbren a gracious nod and followed.
Caekeve showed up shortly after and Umbren immediately shook his head, prompting a violent outburst from the fulgcere as he stomped off.
That night Umbren couldn’t sleep. The thought of Mortis’ actions during the day filled Umbren with anxiety. Based on Mortis’ attitude after the talks, Umbren suspected that Mortis hadn’t done anything yet. Umbren was frustrated that he couldn’t do anything, he had to do something or he would go mad.
As Umbren thought these thoughts, he was interrupted by an uncanny sight in front of him. His eyes had long since adjusted to the darkness around him, but suddenly his vision went pitch black without warning, and then it returned back to normal. Umbren blinked a few times to consider if the moment was real or if it was just his imagination. He turned back to the tent entrance and noted a minute movement of the entrance flap.
“Why isn’t this curious.”
Morta turned back with a smile at her follower.
Umbren stepped out of the shadows with his head hung in shame at being discovered so quickly. Umbren and Morta were placed in front of the marble tower that towered over the entrance to the tenebrage camp.
“So, tell me, why do I find you following me in my private pursuits.”
Umbren gave a deep apologetic bow, “I’m sorry my lady, but I saw you leave and I was compelled to come.”
Morta raised her brow, “Why? Did Mortis command you too.”
Umbren fervently shook his head, “Oh! No. I promise he had nothing to do with it.”
“Then what made you.”
“I guess…”
“You guess?”
“I need to reaffirm my purpose.”
Morta gave a warm smirk, “So that’s the case,” she looked up to the sky, “Put down your bow Alsarie! He’s fine.”
Umbren almost jumped out of his skin as he spun around and followed Morta’s gaze and found nothing. That woman was going to be the death of him one day. He just knew it.
When he turned back to Morta, he found her walking away from him, “Are you coming or not?”
Umbren rushed to catch up with her into the midst of Canalith.
Canalith was dominated by buildings and columns of a blue and red hue. Songs rang throughout the night with performers doting the street. Harp players practiced for coins next to dancers who flipped through the air. Somehow the differing music and senses blended together into a cohesive whole. Drunk fulgceres songs mixed with the beautiful voices of a songstress. The sight of men heaving on their knees in streets, mixed with the sight of fireworks that illuminated the night sky. It was frankly like nothing Umbren had ever seen.
“Amazing is it not?”
Umbren was broken out of his trance of the sound and sights around him by Morta’s question, “Amazing, I don’t even think that there’s a word for all of this.”
“It’s just as great as it was, maybe even better, since the last time I was here.” Morta’s mouth turned into a brief frown as she seemed to remember something. She soon shook her head and looked back to her flamboyant surroundings to distract her from thoughts.
“Reaffirm your purpose. Care to elaborate on that?” Morta continued.
Umbren tried to speak but every time he tried his voice would get caught in his throat. Over and over again he tried until he finally let out a faint voice, “I haven’t done anything my Lady.”
“Hmm, what do you mean by that?”
“I made an oath, my Lady. An oath that I wouldn’t let something like Sanghai happen again. That I wouldn’t allow Mortis to do such a thing again, but I haven’t done anything.”
“I’m sure that’s a good thing though. If you haven’t done anything then he hasn’t done anything.”
“No, my Lady. He has done things, like what he did to Caekeve, he looks three times his age now! And his attitude towards the fulgcere disciples is not likely to end well for anyone.”
“So why is following me reaffirming the oath that you took? I struggle to understand your decision.”
“I…I wanted to regain your faith. I’m sure you have also noticed Mortis’ recent behavior based on your arguments throughout the nights we’ve been here. I think accompanying you will make up for that.”
Morta gave a curious smile, “so in other words you want to prove yourself to me? I hardly think simply accompanying me will allow you to do that. Though my advice for you is to be patient. If you come on too strong or oppose his ideas too much, your life is likely to end by his hands. Being a bother is different from being an advisor. Make sure you understand the difference before you act. ``
The two walked in silence for a few moments into Umbren let out a request, “Is there anything I could do at all my Lady? Anything I could do to prove my usefulness.”
“Hah, are you afraid of being left behind? Umbren everyone has their uses, but even so we do not have to be defined by them.” She gave a brief pause, “However, now that I think about it, you might be helpful in this excursion.”
“How!?” Umbren said a little too eagerly.
“We’ll be meeting with someone that you are familiar with. I’m sure you’ll be able to guide the conversation away from anything…unsavory.”
Umbren was about to accept her request but he was met by Morta with a finger on her lips and they went on in silence.
The pair walked on in silence until Morta stopped in front of a small building that stood upon a base of white brick with stairs leading up to an entrance guarded by two simple columns. Music and laughter streamed out of the structure, each noise building upon the last. Fulgcere conversed next to the columns, while others struggled down the steps in a drunken stupor. However, one may look at it, the place was more than lively.
Umbren stopped his pace in confusion. This prompted Morta to turn back with amusement, “What? You were so eager before.”
Umbren spoke louder than he meant out of haste, “No nothing at all!” His voice soon settled down into one of caution, “My lady, you can’t really be considering going in there. For one of your stature…”
Morta looked back to the building with a false irritation, “It can’t be helped. I was told to meet here, and here I am. Shall we go?” Morta started off without checking if Umbren followed.
Umbren of course did with his back growing stiffer the closer he grew to the establishment.
Upon entering, the pair were greeted with a packed room with an even more packed balcony overhead. There were four column that surrounded the middle of the room where two fulgcere stood. One male with a stringed instrument and another female with a silk gown that danced about.
Morta pushed past the fulgcere in front of her. Some resisted at first, but after seeing her purple crescent eyes cowered away out of a reverential fear, some even assisted her through the room. Umbren had a little more trouble as the fulgcere reacted to his presence with an unbridled interest, trying to strike up a conversation with him relating to the tenebrage.
Once the Umbren finally made it out of the crowd he found a lone table with a figure in a white cloak slouched over it deep in thought. A lone candle stood on the table and it considered it with an anxious tendency. No fulgcere was around the table, just Morta who came upon it with a deep and warm smile;though, it felt more real to Umbren than any other smile he had seen from his lady.
Morta slowly pulled out a chair and sat down. Her face seemingly contorted trying to find the words to say to the figure until Umbren took a place next to her.
“You look well, Ritoro.”
Umbren’s mouth went agape in shock and fear. The figure slowly lifted its head to reveal an unreadable expression; though the once nonchalant stance was nowhere to be found in the general, but a deadly alertness still permeated his whole being.
“Hi…Morta” he said in a tired voice.
He slowly took notice of Umbren’s presence, and gave a brief smile, “I see it healed nicely.”
Umbren’s hand instinctively went to the scar on his face.
“I thought you would come alone.” Ritoro commented to Morta.
“I thought that too initially.”
“So why is he here?”
Morta furrowed her brow at the man across from her, “That is mine and his business alone. Ritoro, my time is very valuable. At any moment, my absence will become noticed, so be sure not to waste my time with useless questions.”
Ritoro sluggishly put his hand up defensively, “I’m sorry. It's just hard to form words. The last time we saw each other was…then. I’m sorry for not finding you sooner.”
“Hah,” Morta gave a mocking laugh, “If you wanted to find me you could have years ago.”
Ritoro slowly shook his head, “I’m sorry Morta, I was busy with something else.”
Morta’s tone rose in anger, “Busy? With what? And why come see me now? We saw each other near Sanghai a year ago and you said nothing.”
Ritoro gave a light laugh, “Well I was busy sparring with your husband,” he suddenly went quiet, “And ever since then I’ve been mourning.”
Morta’s face darkened, “So you've heard.”
“While I was sparring with your husband actually. Told me the news then kicked me off a moving carriage. Quite a pleasant way to be told of your master’s death don’t you think?”
Morta gave a sigh, “Don’t be like that. I would have told you if you had come to talk to me. No doubt you knew I was in the area, so what stopped you?”
Ritoro leaned back in his chair and gazed into the flame, “I was distracted by something.”
Morta raised her brow, “Distracted? You? Can’t say I believe it.”
Ritoro shifted his gaze from the single small flame to Morta, “Where’s the girl Morta.”
A red blur flew from Morta’s person as the light of the candle dissipated. Morta held night to Ritoro’s threat with a murderous glare, “What did you just say?”
Ritoro seemed to be unfazed, but his mouth tightened into a stringent line, “Where is she Morta? I know she’s here.”
“How do you know?” Morta said, taking deep breaths to control herself.
“I don’t know anything, Morta. Just that I need to find her.”
Morta shook her head as if refusing to process the information, “Why?”
“After you left, Soluriel-”
Suddenly the light of the whole building seemed to vanish as Morta’s fury knew no bounds, “Shut up! Don’t say anymore!”
After a moment Ritoro averted his gaze from Morta to the room around him and Umbren followed his gaze; never had a silence felt so heavy. The once joyous music and raucous cheers and lives had gone silent, and all gazes rested on the three of them.
Ritoro looked back at Morta, “Please Morta, calm down. You’re attracting too much attention.” He pleaded.
Morta firmed her grip at Night, maintaining her glare with Ritoro. She then quickly sheathed the glaive and the light of the building returned.
The musician and dancer in the center of the room looked to each other in uncertainty, but slowly started up their performance once more, and the normal revelry that filled the room returned.
“Is that all you wanted to tell me, Ritoro? Mention his name in front of me and make demands of me.” She said.
Ritoro slowly slouched as a sense of desperation filled his voice, “There’s one more thing I would like to ask of you.”
Morta awaited his request with mild irritation.
“Morta…Please come back to Fotos with me.”
“No.” She let out in a mere whisper.
“Morta please. If you come back with me, we can set this misunderstanding right. We can go back to how things used to be. You, me, Vale, Sadine, Bahrl…”
Morta’s hand started to shake, “I’m leaving,” she said through gritted teeth.
Morta got up and walked towards the exit with gritted teeth. Ritoro desperately reached out towards her, but Umbren instinctively caught his hand.
The glare Umbren received from the general sent a shiver down his spine, and made his legs shake.
“Trying to prove something? Are you trying to play hero boy? Should I give you a bigger reminder than I did that night?” He said coldly.
A sudden realization washed over his face as he quickly called out to Morta, “If you don’t tell me where she is, I will find her. You know I will!”
Morta stopped, her back stiff, and she slowly turned her head back with a furious grin, “I invite you to try. Don’t underestimate her Ritoro, I owe you that much advice at least.” She then disappeared into the crowd.
Ritoro seemed lost in thought at Morta’s words, then woke from his daze and jerked his arm from Umbren’s grasp.
“What girl were you talking about? A Hand?”
Ritoro rubbed his arm, and considered Umbren, “I don’t know, but it's not your business anyway.”
Umbren was about to protest, but Ritoro cut him off once more, “You don’t seem to have fallen to the ways of the Hound. Can’t say I’m not surprised.” He dug in his pocket and placed a single lumiere on the table.
“I didn’t think you got anything.” Umbren remarked
Ritoro shook his head and straightened his cloak, “For the entertainment. Have you ever heard the song, Fall of Fotos, tenebrage.”
Umbren slowly shook his head, searching his mind for the name and not finding it.
Ritoro put a hand on Umbren’s shoulder as he went by, “If you want to prevent another Sanghai, then you better listen to it soon. Shouldn’t be too hard. You are in Canalith after all.”
With that the general disappeared into the crowd just as Morta once did, leaving Umbren by himself under the eyes of fulgcere.
Umbren knew that there should have been many things going through his brain, but for some odd reason the only thought he had was of what the general thought of him. Soon Umbren realized that he left Morta alone and shook his head, reprimanding himself, as he ran out of the establishment into the night.