Protectors of Umbra [Umbra's Fate #1] ✓

ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ ɴɪɴᴇ: ꜱᴛᴇꜰᴀɴ

 
  Months of effort and shared experiences laid beneath the debris. The memories conquered Stefan's mind, yet the moments that kept expanding weren't cheerful. Piled-up bodies, burning walls, and crimson blood welcomed him as the ashes from the headquarters flew in his direction.

Everything was consumed by Borbala's fire, from the rooms to the loyal members that perished that tragic day. They became one with the place they swore to protect, leaving the survivors with nothing to bury.

The leader kept some of the ashes in a small, wooden box. He couldn't give the families their children back, but at least he wanted to offer a part of them.

With each step he gave he abandoned a piece of his soul. Stefan walked away from the place he used to call his home knowing he would never find a replacement.

In a far corner of the village, they held the funeral. It was the biggest one the Protectors witnessed so far, they had to let go of thirty-six members this time. Looking at the families became a punishment for the leader, still, he didn't avert his gaze, instead, the man printed the image on his memory.

Father Zenkin said a prayer for the victims and commended his spirits to God. Even though Stefan didn't believe in that, he appreciated the presence of the priest that brought calm to the heart of the family members.

And then the time for his speech came.

"Today we're forced to say goodbye to a part of our family" He started, hiding his trembling hands behind his back. "They died fighting for their loved ones, for this village. I can't bring them back to you but I swear I'll do anything to honor their sacrifice. The Protectors won't give up until the last demon leaves our home."

To finish his statement he opened the box and threw a little bit of ash into every empty coffin. Stefan took the time to say goodbye to the martyrs before the last piece of them was buried. The man made sure to give his condolences to each of the relatives.

A force he couldn't describe pushed him towards the members. The leader didn't question his instinct, after all, he craved the company of those who would understand him the most.  He observed their posture, most had their gazes focused on the ground. Some of them found comfort in the arms of their friends. Tears continued falling down their cheeks.

The members shared their pain with each other, they connected on the victories and also in their losses.

Still, one person took some steps away from the group to mourn alone. It has been a long time since Stefan saw Momotaro showing any expression in public. The young man stood next to the graves, consumed by silence. If the leader hadn't been paying so much attention he wouldn't have noticed the single tear on his cheek.

"Excuse me," Father Zenkin said to Stefan. "I know that this isn't a great time but I have some news."

"It's alright," answered the leader.