In the trial of people

Conifer was the picture of serenity, settled on a rocking chair by the open window.

The umbrella lay at his feet, a tranquil canopy spun at the hem with sheer lace that tapered and dangled from the hem's sharp edges.

"You took so long," Conifer stated with calm, keeping his sight on the faded tower peaks outside the window.

"Took so long?" Lenard gaped at him, incredulous. He marched into the room, pointing at him with accusing fingers. "You cheated."

"Oh-" Conifer turned from the window, looked up at him.

They stared each other down.

Almost immediately, Lenard threw his hands up.

"Alright," he surrendered, "I cheated, but you cheated too much," he quickly added.

"All cheating is the same."

"It is not. Painting your special ability in my face, aren't you?"

Conifer's gaze flitted away as he pretended to think for a while. "Maybe."

"Oh you..." Lenard left it at that and palmed his forehead. Shoulders less stoic than it had been, he went to the large polished iron case by his dresser, took out two bottles that held animal blood.

He threw one to Conifer who caught it with ease and opened his, gulping it down.

Finishing, Lenard threw the empty bottle aside. "Better than nothing." He licked his lips.

"I wish it were human blood," he muttered to Conifer's hearing.

"Patience. Two years," Conifer reminded him.

Due to their folly five years ago, they were not there to receive their perennial supply of human blood. And the humans couldn't cross to the firmament without being eviscerated by the barrier.

Lenard dejectedly walked across, falling into a large bed draped in white sheets. "Two years," he echoed, muffled by the sheets.

"Will father return before we go down to the mortal realm?" Lenard asked.

"..."

Conifer swallowed, back going stiff like a board. Eyes wide, he cast the man a sidelong glance. "They should." His voice was impressively sure.

"Should we check our fortunes before we leave?"

Where's this from? Conifer wondered.

Silence ensued. The uncomfortable kind.

"I think not," he finally replied.

Trying to change the topic, Conifer drifted toward the day before, when they'd captured more werewolves in their territory. "We will set up a silver fence to ward off those poachers."

Lenard smiled weakly, eyelids fluttering open and close. "In the stead of bettering their people proper, they choose to cause trouble for others," he mused, clucking his tongue like a disappointed uncle.

A hiss slipped out of Conifer mouth, exposing the glinting edge of fangs.

He caught himself quickly and maintained a sense of calm. No ripple on the surface of still water.

The blood-red moon with a different glow had been a marvelous sight. The reappearance of the silver moon was a common source of worry.

Even the vampires heard that the werewolves now had a moonlight princess, who by the famous tales, was an invincible force to reckon with.

After the mystery, the first ambush came as a terrifying shock, thickening their worries. It had occurred on the fields beyond civilisation.

And happening just as the Vampire King went on his journey of seclusion, surely, it could not be a coincidence.

While the vampires prepared for any sort of escalations, there had been a startling moment of peace.

A moment that stretched too long and too good to be true. So that when the second ambush descended, they were caught terribly unprepared.

Since then, Conifer had not fallen on the rigorous trainings as the Commander of Head-fighters.

Even the little ones in schools were taught survival skills appropriate for their levels.

Who knew?

Perhaps, the heavens.

But if the second Great war was going to replay, the vampires were determined to not suffer another loss.

King Danis was yet to return and the mantle of leadership had fallen on his wife and offsprings.

One day, a response to one of their numerous letters to the werewolves returned, apologizing immensely for the misfortunes and promising a non-repeat.

There was nothing that was expected.

No compensation.

Just calligraphy on paper that looked to be written in a hurry.

All the pilfering and damage to their fields and live-stock, even the plundering of the captured animals that they were yet to drain of blood was not accounted for.

But what followed was expected. The disruption of peace. The werewolves not being true to their word.

This time, Conifer sent no letters. He replaced the sentries at the borders.

The vampires had no intentions of crossing their borders without knowing the true strength of their adversaries.

After the brothers had tortured out enough information from the star-crossed beasts that fell into their traps and learnt that the ambush wasn't part of a larger scheme, they relaxed a bit.

"Father hasn't been home since the appearance of the silver moon. Mother insists on finding him after the seventh year. Who will go with her if we must go down to the mortal realm?" Lenard continued, reminding Conifer of one of their many troubles.

The words were poorly digested but the eldest prince had to reply. After some difficulty breathing, he said, "You will."

"Conifer..." The sheets rustled beneath Lenard as he shifted, wedged his head on a hand.

"I command you."

"That's better." Relief crossed Lenard's face, smoothed out the furrows in his worried skin. He lay back on a sigh.

"I'm tired, let me sleep now. Running up those stairs and all the racing has..." Lenard paused, "Conifer?"

"Yes?"

"You can go now. It's your turn to watch over that kid brother of ours."

Let the sun worry on our behalf.

"Alright." Conifer stood, transformed his umbrella into a red stone that floated into his pocket. A non-existent weight. "You have a bath first."

"I will."

Lenard looked tired, was tired, having been the one to lead the trainings for the last weeks that Conifer was ill. He appeared unwilling to get up but Conifer knew that once he left, Lenard would go to the bathroom.

With one last lingering look at the second prince, Conifer exited the room.

He came out of the other side of the wall, transparent then solidifying. A shriek was heard from the guard standing watch at the door.

"Send someone to clean up the dungeon and its occupants."

"Certainly, my prince." The guard bowed and scurried off.

Conifer paid him no mind.

"Still painting your special ability in my face, aren't you?" A voice seemed to whisper in the warm air.

Conifer gave a knowing smirk, and went on his way, straight to the reserved springs.

It took five deep soaks to soothe the ache in his bones.

Afterwards, he dressed and went in search of Desmier.

The boy was found quickly. With hands on hips, he was intensely haggling with a seller.

Zachary stood by his side, supporting him by continuously nodding his head like a lizard.

In his grasp were bags of the same size.

You're buying food, and useless things again.

Conifer twisted his mouth in partial disgust.

When Desmier fervently snatched the thing from the seller, he struggled to keep a straight face.

Some minutes later, when Conifer prepared to leave, Desmier discovered him.

Zachary saw him next. One of the bags he'd holding fell to the ground.

Desmier's gaze was terror-stricken as it followed to the bag and Conifer followed it to see...

Wood?

Cherry Wood.

Little logs of cherry wood climbed over each other as they rolled out with a rumbling clatter.

As those logs got farther, the fulminating glare that the boys received, melted their knees and they clumsily began to give chase.

While they did that, Conifer was gradually filled with anger.

While your mates are sawing wood right off the tree when necessary, you rascals are haggling for it with coins.

Desmier heard it through his mind link, but pretended not to hear.

After they finished, they came to stand before Conifer. Their shoulders trembled visibly.

"Can we go now?" Zachary asked tentatively.

His question was met with a stern face and a peremptory reply: "To the training grounds."

"Oh no," Desmier looked bleak.

Zachary clutched the bags tighter as despair took over him. Wiith a gulp, he turned away from those wicked eyes.

Words were futile. They couldn't escape this one.

Under close supervision, Conifer watched them.

Equal attention was given to both. Impressed by their quick fangs, clean swipes, clever feints, and solid defense, Conifer left them to it.

Behind him, the evening sun cast its glow over the wide expanse of land.

It illuminated the dummies set in vantage points and the sweat-drenched trainees.

Clashes of weapons and the snarls of worked-up vampires was the melody in this orange glow.

In front of a heavy stone door, the gentle breeze died down.

Conifer scrutinized the area, lingering on the shadows.

With the area clear, he walked through the door.