the Calm

Rosely seemed happy that Umbra had opened up to her, even if only a little. She followed the corridor toward the staircase.

"Umbra… what a name for such a small child, but it certainly fits him in a poetic way," Rosely said, wearing a smile sadder than her usual gentle one.

As she approached the Grand Master's office, the smile on her face disappeared completely. She entered without knocking, but the two men inside were clearly expecting her.

"Good, Rose is here. I'll continue the partial report of the mission, Graystock," Jones said, addressing a man as tall and broad as himself, with short white hair and one clouded eye marked by a diagonal scar across his face.

"We're not going to focus on the fact that you returned ahead of schedule carrying a brat under your arm…"

"Umbra. His name is Umbra," Rosely interrupted Graystock.

Jones noticed the impatience in both Rosely's and Graystock's expressions, and also saw Rosely tighten her crossed arms against her chest.

"Of course… you returned with Umbra," Graystock said, apparently trying to ease the tension.
"Did you find any signs of those damned Divergents?"

Graystock chose to focus on the main issue and abandon the reprimand for now.

"If by signs you mean three completely destroyed villages with no trace of a single survivor—except for the… the boy Umbra—then yes, we saw signs of them," Jones said, shifting his gaze from Graystock to Rosely.

"Not only that. Their methods stopped being merely cruel. Some bodies didn't even have their blood drained. It's as if killing those people was nothing more than a sick game to them," Rosely said, suddenly drawing both men's attention.

Graystock seemed to have seen his own share of filth in his youth, as he did not appear shaken.

"And after we stopped following his trail to bring Umbra here, did anything happen? Any attack?" Jones asked.

"Hm… nothing. Just silence. The same way it started, it seems to have ended," Graystock replied while staring out the window toward the dead forest beyond the city's outer walls.

"Something doesn't add up. And the Queen—did she say anything about her bloodsuckers? There's no other reason for them to be doing this unless she finally handed over formal control of the city to the Great Father," Rosely commented, removing one hand from her chest and resting it against her chin, trying to piece things together.

"Nothing. The Queen is practically alone in that castle now. And the only path goes through the temple. No one is authorized to go up there—especially not us hunters," Graystock said, gripping the window frame.

The three of them fell silent for a few moments, each trying to form their own theories.

"You're dismissed for today. Tomorrow I'll speak with the boy Umbra to see if he remembers anything," Graystock said, ignoring Rosely as she stepped toward him, clearly wanting to argue against the decision to interrogate the child.

Jones grabbed her by the shoulder before she could speak and pulled her out of the Grand Master's office, closing the door behind them.

"Rose, I know you've grown attached to the boy… to Umbra. But you need to control yourself. I know this is a delicate matter—"

Jones was cut off as Rosely removed his hand from her shoulder and stepped away.

"That's not the issue. Umbra could barely say his own name twice. He went through things that not even the most experienced of us would endure without breaking. And the old man already wants to give him more reasons to break?" Rosely said firmly.

"I think you've forgotten that the boy is tougher than he looks. By the Sun, Rose, we found him trying to fix his own leg right after witnessing a massacre," Jones replied.

"I have no intention of making the boy suffer any more. And I don't think that's Graystock's intention either," he added.

"The way you two argue, someone might think you're in love," Zaira said, appearing at the staircase leading to the second floor.

"Not now, Zaira," Jones said with his usual sigh.

Rosely said nothing more. She simply headed upstairs toward the room where Umbra was staying.
The other two remained at the foot of the stairs in silence for a few seconds.

"Damn, I noticed the kid had melted Rose's heart, but she looks like she's about to lose her head," Zaira said, rubbing an apple against her clothes.

"No one can blame Rose for growing attached to a child after what they did to her," Jones replied in a dark, almost whispered tone.

"I know, I don't blame her. But that child will probably become a hunter—or even be handed over to the Church. I worry about Rose suffering another disappointment that brings all of that back," Zaira said, deciding to save the apple for later.

"I know. I worry too. But you know that if Rose makes up her mind, not even Sol'kael himself could talk her out of it," Jones said, sighing once again.

Zaira went upstairs, and Jones headed down.

Meanwhile, Rosely opened the door to the room where Umbra slept. With extreme care, she entered and sat beside the boy. The night seemed calmer, apparently free of nightmares.

Rosely gently rested her hand on Umbra's black hair. He seemed to feel safe with her—safe enough to sleep deeply, unlike before, or even after waking up on the road to Solvigil, when he had acted like a feral beast.

Rosely lay down beside him, holding him close. Anyone watching from outside would have no other thought than that Rosely had always been the mother of little Umbra.

She looked through the window, which echoed with the sound of light rain.

_How long has it been since the Sun shone for everyone?_

With that thought, Rosely fell asleep, her arms wrapped around Umbra, who accepted her warmth without resistance.

The funeral night moved on outside, the silence occasionally broken by rain on the roof and wind through the trees of the guild's inner courtyard. During the early hours, even the light reflecting on the temple ceiling seemed to vanish, giving way to the deepest darkness.

The night ended peacefully, almost detached from the insane world beyond the guild's walls—but not for long.

Darkness lost its grip at the break of dawn. Rosely woke up sore, having slept in her hunting uniform. The chain of her pendant tightened slightly around her left wrist.

She rubbed her face in a symbolic attempt to wipe away the fatigue that sleep had failed to dispel. Turning her head, she saw Umbra's face, sleeping peacefully like a normal child, untouched by the trauma he now carried.

Rosely's smile was tender. It lasted only a few seconds. The night had to end.

"Hey… Umbra. Umbra," Rosely said softly, careful not to alarm him.

He woke slowly, opening one eye before the other. When he saw Rosely's face, he pushed his small body out of bed. The healing from the previous night seemed effective, though still painful.

"G-good morning," Umbra said, clearly forcing himself to appear normal.

"Good morning, Umbra. You don't need to force yourself to talk right now. Take your time," Rosely replied, lightly ruffling his hair.

Umbra stood with his face turned toward the floor, trying to overcome the trauma, still struggling to lift his head and face the horizon. A gray horizon, yes—but still a representation of the future.

Rosely extended her hand. Umbra took it without hesitation. Rosely smiled gently. The pendant on her left wrist did not tighten this time.

Together, they descended to the guild hall.

"Awake already, little goblin?" Zaira said, wearing thin clothes clearly meant for sleeping, not for standing in the guild hall.

Umbra nodded, his body partially hidden behind Rosely.

"Good thing he understands human speech. I thought he was brain-damaged or actually a goblin runt," Zaira said, laughing more at her own joke than anyone else.

Umbra seemed to show the faintest hint of a smile—though it might have been imagination.

"Damn it, Zaira, haven't we taught you to dress properly before coming downstairs?" Jones said, emerging from the stairway leading up from the basement.

"Looks like the healing worked well. The little guy isn't even limping. Ugly to look at, but Marcus' healing really does work," Jones added.

"Hey, I'm right here," Marcus said from behind him.

The atmosphere in the headquarters that morning was so pleasant it almost made one forget the rotten world waiting beyond the thick stone walls.

"Come on, Umbra. I'll take you to eat in the refectory. The food isn't as good as Mary's, but old Ethel's cooking isn't something to scoff at—don't tell her I said that," Rosely said.

A general nod of agreement spread through the hall.

Whoever this Ethel was, she must be terrifying. Umbra tightened his grip on Rosely's hand.

The five of them headed toward the refectory. Two long tables filled the room, like in a tavern, but far sturdier than those at the Black Fire. Unlike that place, the tables here were spotless. Clearly, Ethel was a firmer hostess than Mary, who let drunkards carve up her tables with knives and cutlery.

The hunters already there showed complete respect for the space.

"This place feels like a funeral. Why can't we just eat at the Black Fire?" Zaira said, yawning and looking with mild disgust at the orderly environment.

"Hm-hm," a voice sounded behind her.

"Seems the old man in that cave under the stairs has still failed to instill discipline in you, Miss Zaira," said a woman slightly taller than her, with completely gray hair tied neatly behind her head.

"S-s-Madam Ethel, it was just a small joke to lighten the mood for the little go— I mean, Umbra," Zaira stammered, shifting attention away from herself and toward the boy.

Ethel looked at Umbra, half-hidden behind Rosely, gripping her hand tightly. A small smile formed at the corner of the woman's mouth.

"What are you fools waiting for? A written invitation from the Red Queen herself? Sit down. I'll feed this boy who looks like skin and bones."

The entire refectory seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

The five sat at one end of the table: Rosely on one side, Jones on the other, Umbra in the middle. Zaira and Marcus sat across from them.

"You look like a family sitting like that," Zaira said without thinking.

Rosely and Jones exchanged a glance and returned their eyes to the table. Jones sighed.

Fortunately, Umbra's trauma didn't seem to surface at that moment.

The four adults rested their hands on the table. Rosely, Jones, and Zaira each wore solar pendants on their left wrists. Rosely's was tighter, the skin beneath slightly burned. Zaira's hung looser, with fewer marks.
Jones' pendant, on the other hand, had almost no slack, the chain even restricting circulation. Burn marks covered his hand from the fingertips to the start of his forearm.

Umbra noticed the differences between the pendants, even without understanding their meaning.

Marcus, however, wore no pendant at all. It hadn't been visible the previous night in the dim basement. He had brown hair curled at the ends and wore large circular glasses that made it hard to see his eye color. His robe was the same as the night before, and he carried no staff.

"Here. Feed the boy first," Ethel said, placing a plate in front of Umbra.

The boy glanced at Rosely, as if asking permission.

"Eat," Rosely said, resting her elbow on the table.

The pendant seemed to loosen as she watched him hold the chicken leg with his small hands.

Ethel made several more trips to serve everyone. The sounds of cutlery and chewing became the only soundtrack. The food was just as appetizing as Mary's, despite the less inviting atmosphere.

"We need to go speak with Graystock. And the little guy needs to come too," Jones said, deboning a chicken leg much larger than Umbra's.

The moment the words left his mouth, Rosely's pendant tightened, just like his. The smile she wore for Umbra vanished, and she turned her face toward the far end of the hall so the boy wouldn't notice.

Jones sighed and returned to his meal. Zaira and Marcus didn't dare speak, only exchanging glances.

The rest of breakfast passed uneventfully. Ethel even allowed Umbra a second serving. The boy's appetite had fully returned after the visit to the Black Fire.

"We need to go, Rose. We've delayed this long enough," Jones said, standing up. He seemed even larger now that everyone else remained seated.

Rosely stared into nothing for a few seconds, then stood as well. The pendant still tightened around her wrist.

She took Umbra's hand and helped him up. The three left the refectory toward the hall, leaving Zaira and Marcus with unfinished plates.

It was time for Umbra to face the past.

Graystock was waiting.