The world is too large a place for benevolence to be everywhere. There was and always will be dark places in the world. In a secluded land, in what would be called the Mountains of The Shade, existed a kingdom whose name was lost in the sands of time. This kingdom was never a utopia. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Within this kingdom existed two social groups, that of the handful of royalty and noblemen and that of the many peasants. The capital city of this nation was divided into two tiers, in those mountains. The nobles lived in the upper tier and the peasants in the lower. In their cruelty, the royal family forced their less than fortunate subjects to literally carve out the side of the mountain when they first constructed the capital. It took generations and millions of lives to remove the tons upon tons of stone and ore from the mountain. If one looked at the sight, they would see a tall mountain, snow capping its peak, yet it looked as if some colossal being cut a slice out of it and put many buildings onto the now perfectly flat stone. The nobles  grew lush gardens, built ivory towers, marble walkways, and elegant churches, still using the peasants for slave labor like their ancestors did. The tier was always lively, despite the small community, and sounds of merriment could always be found from the upper tier. They brought the finest artists, minstrels, and cooks from far-away lands to serve them generously, in blissful festival. The lower tier was the exact opposite. Rough weeds and vines were the only vegetation and tore away at the already loose stones of buildings. The paths were of mud, and the greatest structure there was the silver gate to the upper tier. Their homes were not even built properly, for the lower tier was more of a shanty town built upon the edge of the mountain, with many muck-ridden trails leading from house to house. Art was unheard of, nor music, or even the idea of celebration. The entire community was bathed in eternal darkness, for the jagged mountain peaks blocked both the sun and the moon.

Only one legacy remains of that kingdom, though almost none know of it. There was once a tight-knit group of five orphans, all from nine to twelve years of age. Like most orphans, their parents died from disease, a common thing in the slums of that forgotten city. As was the norm for children, they were forced to steal their daily bread and water. The orphans didn't care that they were doing it, it was necessary. It was tough enough for adults who had to work to earn their bread. Five orphans were as likely to survive in the lower tier as five goldfish in the desert. Against all odds, the orphans survived. They endured this living hell till eventually they were all at the age where they would be taken to become slaves for the noblemen.

On the day the orphans were to first become slaves, they were all snatched from the streets and taken to the upper tier. Though in awe of the beauty of it, they were more concerned with what would happen next. After some time, the orphans arrived at a marble courtyard with a raised wood plank platform in the middle of it. They were pushed onto the platform by a man who began to list their weights and heights, hoping to get a pretty penny for the bunch of them. None wanted them. As far as the nobles were concerned, the orphans were trash beyond trash. They had no useful skills to them whatsoever. Crestfallen, the man who ushered them onto the platform took them away. As blunt as a mace, he informed them that because they were not useful to anyone, they would be put to death by means of the Arena, a stadium set up for the nobles, where warriors known as gladiators fought and killed each other for the upper class' amusement. On the morrow, the five children were to fight each other to the death as well as fight and subsequently be devoured by the wild creatures housed within the Arena.

That night, the man who had taken the orphans from the lower tier cursed himself. He had gone to the local tavern to celebrate his good fortune. When he returned, he found that the orphans had ran away. He was in for it now... the nobles expected five children fighting each other, gladiators, and savage beasts to the death the following morning, and HE would have to go through all that just because he forgot to lock their damned cage. In desperation, he went into the slums, and kidnapped another five children, and brought them back to his lot in the upper tier, shoving them into his cage, promptly locking it this time; a mistake he wasn't planning on making again. Content, he fell asleep, forgetting the orphans he wasn't able to sell, wondering how much money he would get from the new children when they either were eaten by the beasts kept in the Arena, or they ripped each other apart.

The little orphans, having escaped the slaver, all agreed on one thing; They needed to leave the city as quickly as possible. They all sprinted for the lower tier, climbing over the beautiful silver gate, and trying not to slip as they ran down the precarious muddy paths that wound down the side of the mountain into the valleys below. Free of the city that they had lived in for their entire lives, the children experienced the time when they first felt truly happy, yet... they felt incomplete. They shrugged it off, and went further into the valleys, in search of food and water.

After several weeks of traveling through the canyons, deeper into the mountains, living off of mushrooms and river water, there was a thunderstorm. In the Mountains of The Shade, such storms were common; It was thought a dark presence haunted the foreboding peaks, trying to destroy any mortal who set foot in its territory, using thunderstorms and howling winds to either kill them or drive them away. It was by the sheer stubbornness of the nobles and the royal family that the kingdom survived. However, this storm was unlike most. The few trees that were in the valleys were straining with the wind, as if they desired to uproot themselves and walk around. Rocks fell from the peaks, as jagged daggers of lightning struck the sides of the mountain. The valleys flooded from the biblical torrents of rain. The orphans were unlucky enough to be in the part of the mountain chain where the storm was and scrambled to find a place to wait out the storm. Despite the odds against them, they managed to find shelter in a cave, high above the rising water level. Though it was a treacherous climb, it was worth it. The orphans quickly fell asleep, content that they could rest without rain pelting them or lightning frying them.

It was then that the whispers came.

The five children awoke simultaneously in the middle of the night. Short of breath, wide eyed, and drenched with cold sweat, they communed with each other about what had just happened. Each one heard a voice, whispering promises of glory and power... and revenge... They recalled how the voices were powerful, yet they echoed through their minds, as if they were but a shadow of what they belonged to. The voices beckoned to them, as if they were the sweetest scent known to man. Deciding to investigate, the orphans traveled deeper and deeper into the cave, till they found an almost amphitheater-like cavern. Unlike normal caverns, the ceiling and floor were clean of stalactites and stalagmites, seeming as if it was carved and polished for centuries. The walls had a strange dark ore in them, the veins crisscrossing in an almost artistic way. The floor was slanted downwards, like a bowl. At the bottom of that "bowl" was an anomaly. An obelisk of pure black stone jutted out of the ground, its edges sharp and glowing blood red. They had found the source of the whispers.

"We are the Umbrus... we... wish to help you, young ones... we ask but one thing..."

"Obedience"

The children had lost much, and these beings... these Umbrus had offered a release from all that. Each child nodded, and satisfaction radiated from the stone. Knowing what to do, though not how they knew it, each child cut their palms on the sharp facets of the obelisk. Pain unlike they had ever known coursed through their bodies. Above this pain however, was a strange phenomenon unique to each orphan. One saw the truth behind all men, and found that deceit was the only truth in this world. Another saw the logic of humankind, and found madness to be more fitting. Yet another saw the boring lives of men, and decided the dream world to be more enlightening. The fourth orphan saw how the common man starved himself of life, and found indulgence to be sweet indeed. And finally, the fifth orphan. He saw the order of the world, and decided that chaos was the only force in this world that drove life itself. Though each had their own epiphany, all heard the dark cackle of laughter before they passed into unconsciousness.