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I
Despite the years they had spent serving divinity, Umbrella didn't go to church often.
In their younger years, they had been a servant to Windforce in Splintered Skies. There had been no need to pray, for their loyal service was enough for their needs to be fulfilled. They were fed well, clothed warmly, and lived a comfortable life in her care. Perhaps it would become too monotonous for some, but Umbrella found joy in their routines.
Once they'd reached adulthood, they'd been introduced to Firebrand, who Windforce had passed them along to personally.
While Windforce had treated them well enough, Firebrand treated them like they were equals, something which Umbrella grew fond of quickly. He respected them just as they did him, and provided them with all the luxuries they could ever begin to ask for.
They’d never needed to pray to him before; he treated them with such selflessness and passion, there wasn't a single thing they were left to desire.
But it had been over eight months since he was last spotted, and Umbrella missed him dearly, even after... What everyone claimed he'd done. They really thought he would've been back by now, but the weeks passed and passed without a single sign of him. Of course, they knew he'd return eventually— He'd promised. They'd just been feeling lonely without him, and their heart ached each day he was gone.
So, it was not Umbrella’s first time in Lost Temple, but it was the first time since the fire. The flames danced dangerously around them, tarnishing the city with an overpowering glow. They tried to stay as far on the outskirts as they could, unsure if they could survive going deeper inwards.
It was foolish, coming to this place, but on this particular day, something had compelled them forward, making them act on the thoughts they'd been pushing down for months. They packed their bag, told the kids they were going out of town for a while, took a train to Lost Temple. Tried their hardest not to get hurt just in the process of reaching the burning city, let alone navigating through it.
It hadn't been easy getting out this far. The heat was unbearable, with not only the bright, morning sun beating down on them but the flames grasping desperately at them, barely missing their legs, not to mention they had to be constantly aware of anybody else lurking around the ruins. Still, desire pushed them further and further in, even as every rational thought in their mind told them to turn away.
The air was clouded with smoke, making it even harder to navigate the area. Really, Umbrella could've already passed the building they'd been looking for, but they were nearly sure it was just a bit further north. Their legs carried them steadily along the edge of the flames, until finally it came into sight.
Among the wreckage stood a large church, right at the edge of the horrible fire, untouched by its dire flames.
Umbrella still remembered when it had been built, a little under twenty years ago. Firebrand's presence had been specifically requested at that time, because the monument was in his honor.
They had been young at the time, having just finished moving their things from their room in the Splintered Skies complex to Firebrand's castle. Of course, because they were his new advisor, they'd been allowed to come with him for the opening of the new church. It was their first time in Lost Temple, and they remembered being awed by almost everything they had come across; the architecture, the customs, the way inphernals spoke, it was all so very different from their home faction.
Now, 20 years later, the church stood just as tall and proud as ever, but its meaning had become tarnished and ironic with the raging fire surrounding it. Umbrella held their breath as their legs seemed to carry them to the door automatically. Then, with a hesitant sigh, they pushed it open, head held low as they stared at their own shoes.
The first thing they noticed was dust, lots of it, tiny particles filling the air all around them. They felt a little squeamish at the thought of getting dusty, but after persisting through eternal flames to reach this place, they wouldn't let something so small stop them from entering.
The white sandstone stood the test of time, still hearty and strong despite the dust and smoke clouding the area. Under their heeled boots, a long red carpet stretched down the aisles and to the center of the church, surrounded by seats to fit hundreds of inphernals at a time.
The emptiness of the church was deeply unsettling to Umbrella. They tried not to think of the loyal church-goers who had died in the fire. They tried not to imagine the screams, or the terror, or the horrible heat of the flames. They tried, they failed, then eventually they managed to shake the thoughts away.
Finally, Umbrella tilted their head up fully to see the main centerpiece of the church.
In front of them was a stained glass window, framed by many sandstone pillars and two banners on either side with Firebrand's family crest displayed, the same one Umbrella used to wear so proudly on their lapel. These days they kept it in their shirt pocket; hidden, but still just as close to their heart.
What must've been hundreds of unique shades of glass all artistically placed together to form one beautiful picture, the window depicted Firebrand almost too perfectly. In one hand, he held his sword, the blade of it covering half of his face so his only eye wasn't visible. In his other hand, he held a lit torch above his head, reaching it all the way up to the sun, as if it had been him who placed it in the sky at all.
He dawned a long dress with the pattern of flames at the bottom, one that Umbrella remembered him wearing the first time they ever danced together. Behind him, his wings were fully splayed out. He looked just as divine as they remembered him being.
This was it. The sight that had drawn them all this way. Umbrella felt a wave of emotions hit them as the window came into their vision, but they couldn't bring themself to look away. It was a miracle, after so many years, that the window remained standing at all.
They must've stared for a very long time before they finally began to move again, because their legs felt shaky as they began to move forwards along the carpet.
As they walked, the window seemed bigger and bigger in their vision, until finally they were met with a short staircase.
The altar was painted in a myriad of hues as light filtered in through the window. As Umbrella climbed the stairs, they felt the light begin to beam down on them, and they were sure the colors were reflecting onto their face too.
Now they were face to face with him. The window was much bigger up close. They almost felt intimidated under its glow at first, but as they stood under it, the warmth of the sun beamed down upon them, coaxing them ever closer to the glass. Umbrella wondered if it was the sunlight making their face warm, or if perhaps they’d actually begun blushing just from the art in front of them.
With a shaky breath, they knelt down, their eyes shut tight their hands clasped together as they began to pray.
"Firebrand-" his name came out weakly, and they had to clear their throat before continuing. "My Lord. I- I've been meaning to speak to you."
Umbrella was never one to stutter, but their nerves got the better of them. They knew he could hear, and that only made it more tense.
"I guess I've been having trouble thinking of the right words," they chuckled awkwardly.
"...I'm at that window, in Lost Temple. I don't know if you'd even remember it. When I was twenty-two, maybe three actually, I forget. You took me here a few times."
"You had to get dressed up every time and pose for that artist. I remember you always complained about getting your hair brushed."
"I remember... The artist was so strange. He kept getting mad at you for posing wrong, but he was too scared to say it to your face, so he'd tell me to direct you instead. I felt so awkward, but then he went away for his lunch break and you started making fun of him. I'd been feeling so nervous all day, but you managed to get me to laugh..."
"Then they constructed this window for you. You helped create the glass with your flames, and then we watched together as they put in each piece."
"When we went back to Crossroads, you said... You said it made you feel strange when people worship you. Like it was 'undeserved.' You didn't want to be above anyone in such a way, even if you were their leader."
The window towered above them. "I hope my presence here doesn't make you feel like that, I just-" Umbrella sighed, opening their eyes, "I miss you, Firebrand. I really miss you."
Through his depiction in the glass, they could see the raging flames outside, the crackle of the fire filling their head.
"Microphone and Megaphone miss you too, though I've taken them into my care for the time being. I promise I'll care for them just as you would have. But... They both keep asking me where you've gone. I'm not sure what to tell them."
"They're so young still, my Lord. I want to care for them, but they need you. And I need you, and-..."
"...maybe it's rude to come here just to say these things. I just hope you'll return to us soon."
Umbrella's eyes screwed open, head tilted slightly as they examined each piece of the window in front of them, but their body remained rigid in a pose of prayer, just as Firebrand's depiction towered over them in statuesque stillness. The whole world felt still, except for the dramatic flames framing the scenery. Something tightened in Umbrella's chest at the raging scene outside.
"I should probably be going. I don't want to leave the children alone for too long."
"I'll be waiting for your return, Firebrand."
With a soft mutter of 'amen,' Umbrella rose to their feet once more.
It was difficult, almost physically so, to turn away from the window. They felt captured by it and the memories it brought back to their mind. They felt like they could sit next to it for a very, very long time.
But then they remembered the children who would be at home waiting for them, and they figured it was best to return before the two got worried. With one final glance back at the window, Umbrella slipped out of the church and into the fiery desert once more.
Firebrand would come home soon, surely, and they wouldn't need to visit this place again.
II
When Firebrand first disappeared, their peers had been surprised at how minimal their reaction had been.
It didn't take a genius to figure out that Umbrella and Firebrand's relationship went far deeper than just a king and his royal advisor, even despite their (very poor) attempts to keep their affections a secret. Umbrella was raising children with him for goodness' sake! Yet when the news of the fire came, and days without him turned to weeks, Umbrella's composure did not falter a single bit.
Why should it? Firebrand was a good king, and he had treated them with respect and love for many years. No matter what, they'd remain loyal to him, for it was their duty as his most trusted mortal ally. Even when the world tarnished his name, found new gods to worship and cast the Swords aside, Umbrella's faith didn't waver.
Firebrand would return. That much they were sure of.
But then, why had they come back to this place again?
One full year after the scorch. The heart of the desert, laid in ruins, flames twirling all around them in a passionate dance, the boiling midday sun hitting the side of their face. It was difficult to see with the smoke and the glare of the flames, but Umbrella was careful, calculated with each step, evading the fire's grasp each time.
The first visit had been borne of a desperation to see him again, a compulsion to go somewhere they'd feel surrounded by his presence once more. The second time... They weren't so sure.
There was no good reason to return to such a dangerous place. They'd said their prayer, and Firebrand hadn't returned yet. All they needed to do was wait for him. That was their duty.
Yet they'd grown impatient, antsy as the weeks ticked by. One year since the Scorch, four months since their first visit. They just had to go back. It was as if the desert itself was calling to them, tempting them each and every day.
Peace washed over them when they entered the church and laid eyes on the window once more, a quiet sigh of relief escaping them. The longer it stood, the more worried they became, but it remained standing tall.. The rest of the church was in good condition as well, save for the dust and slight tears in the banners.
Even the rumple of their footsteps against the carpet echoed in the quietude of the church, but it only served to put them at ease. For once, being alone felt rather comforting instead of stiflingly lonely.
Umbrella sat on their knees at the altar, looking directly at the window as they began to speak once more.
"Firebrand," his name slipped out much easier this time. They'd been wanting to speak to him again, ever since last time, and to be sitting under the light of the window again felt indescribably freeing. "I know I was just here a few months ago, but we still haven't heard anything from you..."
"I know you'll be back though. I just miss you. I don't know what's gotten into me, forgive me for being impatient, my Lord. I just wanted to talk to you again."
"This window... It's very beautiful."
"When I sit under it, the sun shines on me, and it feels warm just like you did."
"It feels like... You're here with me."
Even if they wanted to, Umbrella could not tear their eyes away from the window in front of them. A fragile thing, but powerful in whom it depicted and the way it glowed down upon them. They felt mesmerized just being close to it.
"I suppose I don't have much to say now that I'm here. This place always seems to take my breath away..."
Firebrand's glass face remained so teasingly covered behind his sword, just barely out of reach to them. They found themself wishing that, for just a moment, they might look into his eyes once again. Yet he was merely glass, a rendition of the inphernal who had once stood in that same tall pose.
"...I guess I should tell you what the children have been up to in your absence."
"Microphone has been doing good, I believe. He misses you quite a bit, but he's... Happy, at least."
"Megaphone, I worry about him sometimes. He's become very quiet."
"After, uh- everything, I try my best to be there for him. And I know Mic was affected by it too, even if he does seem cheery."
"Mega will sometimes tell me very... Disturbing stories. About what their life was like before you and I took custody of them."
"I'm trying my best to support them. I just wonder if I... If I'm truly enough. They've been hurt so much, it's mind blowing how they've endured."
Umbrella paused, listening to the echo of their own voice for a moment, then focusing on the crackle of the scorch. They enjoyed that noise. It reminded them of simpler times-- camping trips with the family, cuddling on the couch in the evening, eating breakfast on the veranda.
The memories made their heart hurt.
"They remind me so much of you," their words came out a bit choked. Firebrand always had a way of tearing their walls down, breaking through their composed image and seeing the person inside. They just wished they could understand him in the same way. "I can tell they're both hurting, but I just... I don't know how to talk about it. Neither of them want to bring it up, and I don't want to force them, but... How can I know how to support them when I don't even know what's going on in their heads?"
They pondered aloud, hoping the stained glass may hide some magical answer to all their woes. And although it couldn't speak to them or magically grant their wishes, they did begin to feel soothed by its great warmth.
"...Maybe it's just a waiting game, just like it is with you. I'll wait for them to talk to me, just like I'll wait for your return, my Lord."
Finally, Umbrella's eyes broke from the window, and pain immediately registered in their head. Their eyes were burning, and they quickly rubbed at them with their gloved hands. The sun shined on in front of the window, making the glass glow brightly. They must've been staring for a while...
"I should be going home now. I don't want them to worry," Umbrella's legs faltered weakly as they rose from their kneel. Goodness, how long had they sat praying? It had only felt like minutes to them, but when they checked their watch, it was already hours later.
They whispered their 'amen,' giving one final bow to the window before they turned to begin their journey home.
III
Umbrella ignored the passionate flames beckoning them closer. They seemed to be in autopilot as they made their way to the church, and before they knew it, they stood at the ornate door frame once more.
Through the church's regular windows they could already see just what they'd come here for, the beautiful centerpiece which had begun taking up so much space in their mind. With no hesitation, Umbrella slipped inside and took their place at the altar once again.
After their first two visits, they found themself unable to stop returning. People had began to wonder where the were disappearing to, and of course Mic and Mega always asked if they could come as well, but Umbrella always found an excuse. Maybe it was greedy, but they wanted the window to remain a secret for as long as possible. It simply felt too intimate to share.
Instead of praying immediately, Umbrella sat in silence for a while. The light bathed them in a rainbow of colors, the sun's warmth kissing their skin. Usually they sat a few feet away from it, wanting to see the entire artwork, but this time they sat right up against the wall, their head resting gently against the glass.
For a moment, they closed their eyes. The light washed over them, touching each and every inch of their body, basking them in its warmth. And for just that brief moment, Umbrella swore they could feel him again. One large hand wrapped gently around their torso, the other threaded into their hair, his chest rising and falling beneath them, and his soft, warm breaths against their forehead.
And they were sure that if they reached their hand outwards, they would find his face— first his messy stubble, then the rough, scaly skin of his cheeks, until they found his long, tangled hair stuck between their fingertips.
Compelled, Umbrella reached up—
But the tap of the glass made them open their eyes, and they were met with the realization that he'd never been there at all. The beauty of the window was indescribable; but it wasn't quite him.
In the art, Firebrand looked stoic and sad. His sword covered his face, covered the smile they knew would've been present if he'd truly been there. He looked so serious, so unlike himself.
It looked just like the story that everyone told. The night of the Scorch-- intimidating, scary, monstrous in his actions, yet with a sort of sadness present in his figure. Nothing like the kind, silly deity they'd once known.
He used to bake cookies on the weekends. He used to make up bedtime stories for Mic and Mega, always including the most nonsensical elements he could think of just to make them giggle. He used to complain about having to brush his hair, only to accept hurriedly when Umbrella offered to do it for him, curling up in their lap and letting them scratch at his scalp with the brush.
And when they were alone, he'd take them into his arms and whisper sweet things to him, pepper their face and body with kisses and affection, and show them pleasures beyond anything a regular mortal could ever give them.
Umbrella knew they weren't crazy. Sometimes it felt like they were the only one who remembered who Firebrand truly was.
Their fingers lingered on the glass for a long moment. Gently, very careful to not break it, they traced over each hand-made piece, and their heart seemed to beat faster with each soft touch.
"I know it wasn't you who started that fire," they began quietly. "I don't care what anybody else says."
The window was quiet and still. Umbrella's fingers stilled as they continued to speak to him, in reverence to his portrait. "Maybe it was you, but... I know you didn't do it on purpose."
"When you return, I promise I'll be waiting for you. Then we can- can go out to dinner together, just like we planned," they chuckled, "That was so long ago... It feels like it was just yesterday."
"We can all go out together as a family, you and me and the brothers. And- And we can play that silly board game you used to like, too. We can do whatever you please, my Lord. Just as soon as you return..."
A soft sigh fell from their lips as they stared at the art. They felt like it was staring back.
"I hope you're safe out there."
"I've wondered... Why you haven't returned yet."
"You hear these prayers, you must. I know you wouldn't leave us behind for so long, not without a reason..."
"Is it because you're afraid— of what the people might do to you? Or maybe... Someone is keeping you away?"
The window didn't answer.
Umbrella shook their head. "It's rude to speculate when you're listening, isn't it? I'm sorry. Just... Remember that I'm waiting, my love. No matter what happens."
Finally, their fingers hesitantly retracted. The light shone upon them and filled their body with an overwhelmingly familiar warmth. They felt unable to escape the grin that overtook their face, feeling his touch through the sunlight.
Contented with their talk, Umbrella rose to their feet once again, and again their legs ached after sitting for so long. This time, instead of amen, "I love you," they whispered to nobody except the glass.
IV
It didn't really matter how they'd gotten there. It was all the same. Sun, sand, flames, heat; the dry, arid landscape of the desert. All that really mattered was that they'd returned once more to the window.
They'd lost count now, of how many times they'd visited. Maybe twenty times, maybe fifty, maybe more. Their visits blended together, their memory of the time they spent under the lights becoming blurred together.
The window was like magic to them. The world outside was crazy, filled with chaos and disaster, and without Firebrand there to brighten things up, life itself had become unbearable. But here, under the window's lights, they could bask under him again, worship just like they were meant to, and feel his touch once more upon their skin.
It was a miracle it had survived for so long, in a world full of so much hatred and violence. Despite the flames and despite the chaos, their window towered tall above them, filling them with a sense of safety nothing else seemed to provide them anymore.
Today, and for the past weeks, Umbrella had been plagued by thoughts of the window. Over the last five years (and Swords, how had it been five years already?), talk of the Scorch had gradually decreased. The pain of the tragedy was too unbearable to speak of— It drove Umbrella mad, quite frankly.
Firebrand had been such a good leader for so many years, yet the public seemed happy to forget him— to tarnish his image, to simply move on. Nobody wanted to look for him. Nobody wanted to pray to him. Nobody cared for him anymore.
Why couldn't they all remember? Remember the way he had been? Why couldn't they remember his kindness? His love? His beauty? His talent? Why was it that only Umbrella remembered the great king he truly was? Had they gone crazy or had everyone else?
Under their window, though, all of their doubts were quieted. It had become ritualistic to them, to visit as much as they could, and now that Mic and Mega (now Valk and Dom, their preferred stage names) were nineteen, they had plenty of time to spend at the church. It had become a facet of their life, the main staple of their days. Sometimes they even dreamed of their window.
Although it was technically an "object," their window made them feel connected to Firebrand in a way nothing else could. Its light whispered sweet nothings to them, each ray falling upon them like gentle touches. They'd sit under it for hours upon hours just to feel the warmth of its kiss upon their face.
They didn't even need to speak anymore, though they often did. Even when nothing weighed on their mind, they'd visit anyways, just to be with it again.
Today was no different. The sun was setting outside, but they continued to kneel in reverence, the light traversing their body in a way that felt too intimate to speak of. The warmth of the light felt like his hands upon their shoulders and his lips along their neck. For a moment, they were convinced he had to be there with them, because how could a mere object provide them with such a feeling?
But when they murmured his name, the window stood silent and still above them, and their stomach flipped with the reminder that despite it all, he was still gone.
The unease slipped away quickly though, the hues of the stained glass coaxing them back into a peaceful daze. Umbrella closed their eyes and allowed their head to rest against the window, horns bumping the glass with a soft thunk.
They must've sat there for a very long time— perhaps they'd even fallen asleep, because when they opened their eyes again, the sun was already setting.
They were quick to stand up and dust themself off, "I- I need to be going now, I don't want to be out at night..." They explained to the open air, but their eyes continued to linger for a long time afterward. A soft smile parted their face.
"I love you, Firebrand."
And when they left, they knew they'd be back again.
V
Well, it was nighttime.
The sun had just barely set beneath the horizon line, yet Umbrella found themself in the heart of the desert once more. Lost Temple at night was never a safe place to be. Gang violence, thieves, murderers, not to mention the vultures, all of which only seemed to worsen in the night hours.
But here, in the burning city, not a soul dared to come and interrupt their little visits. Even at night, though Umbrella had been worried, not a single soul was present. It was perfect.
The scorchfire nipped at them skittishly, reaching out to envelop them. With a practiced precision, Umbrella evaded it, but still found themself caught up in its beauty. Firebrand's flames were just as gorgeous as him, dancing wildly against the deep backdrop of the night sky. It was romantic, in a way, like candlelight.
Still, their window compelled them further forward, breaking free of the flames' enchantment to reach it once again.
Their anticipation had been building all day, they were practically craving it. They wanted nothing more in the moment than to sit under his light again. Yet when they reached the door to the church, something felt wrong. A deep pit had settled in their stomach, and with an unprecedented hesitation, Umbrella barely had the courage to crack the door open.
On that night, within mere seconds, Umbrella's grand delusion was shattered.
Hundreds of shards of stained glass strewn about the floor in a horrible, murder-esque scene; it was gone. Just like that, the window was gone, in pieces in front of them. Umbrella rushed to its side, falling to their knees on the altar once again. Without the window towering above them, the chill night air brushed along their face in a cruel caress, and the fire crackled tauntingly. It was gone, all gone, just like that, he was gone again-
Piece by piece they examined what once was. They found the remnants of Firebrand's dress, then his arms, then his sword and covered face, then his torch. Yet no matter how they attempted to reconstruct him, the pieces wouldn't fit together. He was gone.
The glass was dusty. It had been gone, and there was no way of knowing exactly when it had shattered. Their last visit had been mere days ago, and it had been fine. Umbrella felt their throat tighten at the thought they could've stopped it from breaking, if only they'd visited more, if only they'd been more loyal.
Piece by piece they examined the corpse of what once was. One piece a fiery, angry red. Another, a passionate green. Another, a light sky blue. Another, a deep cerulean. Once they had formed such a beautiful portrait, one which filled Umbrella with hope and peace. Yet within what felt like moments, it had all been torn away again.
A ragged sob escaped. Then another, then another, echoing through the empty church.
For the first time since the Scorch, Umbrella cried. They let the feelings bubble out of their chest and through their mouth after so many years of dormancy. They sobbed and cried until they were gasping for air, until they were nearly choking, until the dust on the glass was washed away by their tears, and then even more. Minutes turned to hours, and they could do nothing but let the tears fall hopelessly.
Yet when their tear ducts ran dry, Umbrella found that there wasn't a single thing they could say.
Cruelly, the night was quiet.
Umbrella couldn't stand being in the church. With one final glance given to the wreckage of the glass, they slipped out and sat on the front steps, watching the flames rage in front of them.
It was late. The sun was long gone, the sky a deep midnight blue, though they were sure it wasn't quite that late yet.
"I'm sorry," they spoke to the open air. They hugged their legs as they watched the fire. It truly was a beautiful thing, wasn't it?
Thoughts rushed and rushed through their head until their mind ran fully quiet, save for one specific, blurry memory.
"I remember... On the night before the Scorch, you said you weren't feeling well," they began. "And I told you that- that we should go to bed, and that sleeping would help."
"That night, you were wrapping your arms around me, and... Before I fell asleep, I heard you talking to me."
"You said, no matter what, you were going to watch over me."
"You said you'd love me 'til the ends of time."
"You said... You said you'd always come back to me. And you kissed me on the forehead, and I felt you leave, and I thought- I thought you were just going outside for air, and I fell asleep..."
"And then the next day you- you were gone, just like that. It was such a shock, the news, I- I didn't believe it. I couldn't believe it. All this time, I've... Refused."
"The window... It felt like you were back again, in a way. Like you really were watching over me when I sat under it."
"But you... You said you'd always watch over me, didn't you?"
The fire crackled brightly, lively.
"Even if the window is... Gone. You're here, aren't you, my Lord? I just have to believe that you're with me..."
With a determined start, Umbrella stood again. Despite it all, despite the ache in their heart and in their legs, they looked out at the fire encompassing the horizon, and they felt that familiar hope shine in them again. "I... I don't know where you are, but I know you'll be back. I don't care how long it takes, I'll be here for you."
The fire bit at their legs, and with a playful smile, Umbrella slipped away from it once more. Standing at the edge of the burning city, a familiar peace washed over them— because even if he wasn't standing over them, he was still with them in their heart, right? Just like he promised.
"I'm going to stop coming here. I think... It's not good for me to spend so much time at this church," they decided, "Maybe I'll go spend some extra time with Mic and Mega for you, yeah?"
"...I just hope you'll come back someday."
Umbrella stared for a long time and the raging flames, before they turned and walked away one final time. A sigh escaped their lips as they left behind the burning city and for the first time in a long time, despite their melancholy, they felt free, no longer tied down by their longing.
They wouldn't go back again. They didn't need to. Because even if he wasn't there with them, and even if the window had long been broken, the memory of him would live on with them as long as they walked the Inpherno.
The night was cold, but they felt the sun smile at them.
—
So, the night was empty, only wind and quiet static filling the dead air around them.
Quietly, Umbrella’s voice fell against the silence.
”Firebrand… If you’re out there listening, I love you, darling.”
But nobody answered, and Umbrella remained all alone.
Still, hope shined on within them. He’d return someday, they knew, just as bright and bold as he always had been.
For now, they would rest, and await his return, devoted to him in thoughts and in actions. Since the day they'd met and until the day they died, Umbrella would remain his loyal advisor.
—
“I love you too,” said the sunken sun, but his words were lost within the air, for the deep blue night sky had washed him away, and forced him to the depths below the horizon.