Inside Umbra's Ruins ✓ [Umbra's Fate #2]

ꜰᴏᴜʀ: ꜱᴛᴇꜰᴀɴ

How does a person know when they have reached their limit? Is there any special signal? Maybe they know once their body gets sick, or is perhaps the constant desire not to get out of bed that does the trick. In Stefan's case, the sneers he received from the members of the Protectors were the match that lit the fire.

The day of the eclipse left more than hundreds of deaths, it also broke the weak cord that held the resistance together. For the second time in his life, Stefan betrayed the trust that had been bestowed upon him by his people. They gifted him their lives for the cause he represented and he rewarded them by preparing their funeral.

No resentment bloomed in his heart, he understood the pain they felt, an essential part of their lives had been taken away from them and they needed to blame someone. The leader became the representation of their loss, the face they used to put a name to their fear that, otherwise, would be too strong to be handled.

His home, deprived of its warmth, became a set of gray walls. Stefan walked through his room for the last time, no personal items were left in the space, all of them waited inside the cardboard boxes for it to be the time to move. The bed stood in the middle of the bedroom, stripped from the sheets, at its right, the wardrobe remained empty.

"Everything's ready?"

He heard his wife ask him next to him. He turned his body to see her. To him she looked as radiant as ever, not even the tragedies of war or his reduced vision affected her beauty.

The world looked different for the leader. During the eclipse he fell victim to Borbala's rage, her fire consumed half of his face. With Agatha's help, the burn reduced its size, yet his right eye couldn't be saved. The young woman offered to keep treating the wound once she restored her energy, yet he insisted she leave it as it was. Other people needed her, and he preferred to have a mark to remember his failure.

"All packed," he answered.

Genevieve gave him a smile, her hand reached under his white eye, slowly she caressed the small burn mark. The man shivered at her touch.

"How're you feeling today? Does it still hurt?" She asked. 

"Not now, I just feel a few pangs from time to time. Getting used to my new sight is the hardest part, I bumped into half the furniture this morning."

"I'm sure you'll get used to it soon, and Gellert offered his help to teach you some tricks."

"Don't remind me, he's still joking about us complimenting each other's eyes. We have the perfect vision if we're side to side."

A knock on the front door interrupted their conversation. The couple exited the room, Genevieve walked behind her husband to make sure that he stayed away from the walls and the furniture. They crossed the short corridor to the living room, Stefan went to the window to see who had knocked.

On the outside of the house, Gellert waited for his friends to open the door. The leader saw how he fanned his face with one of his hands while holding a bag in the other. He made a signal to his wife to let the man in.

"I was roasting out there," Gellert complained after entering the house. "I hate summer, all I do is sweat."

"I'll bring some cold water," commented Genevieve before disappearing into the kitchen.

The two friends exchanged glances, they seemed to be observing each other to decide their next move.

"Take a seat," Stefan was the first to talk, signaling the sofa.

"This is for you, for the new house." The firefighter extended the bag toward the other man.

"Thanks."