Before there were kingdoms, before there were kings, before the first rune was ever carved into the oldest stone, they whispered our name by the light of the fire. House Umbra was not founded; it always was. A silent constant in the world's deepest corners, a pillar of ebony bearing the weight of the ages.
While the Great Houses of Magical Britain clashed for power, raising gilded towers and weaving fragile alliances through marriages of convenience, we watched from our shadows. Politics is a game for ephemeral minds, concerned with a legacy that cannot last even a millennium. Our inheritance is carved from perpetual twilight, and our domain is not measured in territory or influence, but in the absolute quiet that precedes chaos.
Pureblood. Half-blood. They are foolish labels, invented by those who fear their own extinction. Our tradition, the true wisdom passed from Umbra to Umbra, has always understood the peril of stagnation. Magic, like a wild vine, withers when cultivated only in the same soil, generation after generation. This is why, every few generations, our heir seeks not a princess of illustrious lineage, but a brilliant mind born of Muggle parents. We bring into our fold the new, the unpredictable, the blood that knows no rules but carries the raw potential of creation. It is this spark of the unknown that fuels our ancestral flame and keeps our birthright vivid and terrible.
And what a birthright it is.
We do not conjure fire or light. We do not tame creatures or alter what is superficial. We dance with the primal matter of the night, with the primordial substance that existed before the first star was lit. We are the lords of shadow. We weave it like silk, shape it like iron, and unleash it like a fleet of silent blades. It is our extension, our senses, the guardian of our most ancient memories.
For uncountable centuries, we have honored our solitude. But every twilight, no matter how long, must eventually yield to the night.
And now, my time has come to assume the mantle.
I am Filius Umbra, the current Lord and Head of the most ancient and most noble House Umbra. And the world, in its arrogance, is about to learn that we do not ignore it out of disdain.
We ignore it because, when we decide to look, all that will remain of it will be a memory in the gloom.