The morning after the messenger's disturbing news, Bete woke to find his older brother Gareth already awake and sitting by their shared bedroom window, staring out at the forest with an expression of serious concentration. At thirteen, Gareth had grown considerably over the past year, his shoulders broadening and his height increasing to the point where he was beginning to resemble their father's imposing frame.
"Couldn't sleep either?" Bete asked quietly, not wanting to wake Mira in the next room.
Gareth turned, and Bete was struck by how much older his brother looked than just a few months ago. There was something in Gareth's eyes—a gravity and awareness that spoke of the approaching transition from boy to young man.
"I've been thinking about what the messenger said yesterday," Gareth replied. "About the attacks on Millbrook's guards. Father's more worried than he's letting on."
Bete joined his brother at the window, both of them looking out at the eerily quiet forest. "How can you tell?"
"Last night, after he thought everyone was asleep, I heard him talking with Sergeant Borin in the kitchen. They were discussing defense plans and evacuation routes. Father only does that when he thinks we might actually need them."
A chill ran down Bete's spine that had nothing to do with the cool morning air. "Evacuation routes?"
"Plans for getting the non-combatants—women, children, elderly—to safety if the village comes under attack. It's standard military preparation, but Father's never felt the need to review those procedures before."
The two brothers sat in contemplative silence for several minutes, each lost in their own thoughts about what this development might mean for their family and village.
"Gareth," Bete said finally, "if something does happen—if the village is threatened—what will you do?"
His older brother looked at him with surprise. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, are you going to fight with the guards, or are you going to help with evacuating people, or...?" Bete trailed off, unsure how to articulate the complex feelings that had been building inside him.
Gareth considered the question seriously. "I suppose that depends on what kind of threat we're facing and what Father thinks is most useful. I'm old enough to be of real help in a fight, but I'm also one of the fastest runners in the village, which could be important for carrying messages or leading people to safety."
"And what about me?"
"What about you?"
Bete struggled to find the right words. "Everyone keeps talking about protecting the children and getting them to safety. But I've been training just as hard as anyone, and I've proven that I can handle dangerous situations. At what point do I stop being someone who needs protection and start being someone who can provide it?"
Gareth studied his younger brother with new interest. Over the past months, he had watched Bete's transformation from an enthusiastic but ineffective child into someone who moved with increasing confidence and skill. The endurance race victory had been just the most visible sign of deeper changes that were taking place.
"You know," Gareth said slowly, "I've been wondering the same thing about myself. Father still sees me as his son who needs to be kept safe, but I'm already taller than half the village guards and I've been training with weapons for three years."
"So what do we do?"
Before Gareth could answer, the sound of voices from the kitchen indicated that their parents were awake and discussing the day's plans. Both boys fell silent, listening to the muffled conversation that drifted through the house.
"...increased patrols starting today..." came their father's voice.
"...keep the children closer to home..." Grandmother Elsa replied.
"...Marcus has offered to help with advanced scouting..." Captain Fenris continued.
At the mention of his combat instructor, Bete felt a surge of mixed emotions. Part of him was proud that Marcus was being called upon to help defend the village, but another part was worried about what kind of dangers the former adventurer might be asked to face.
"Come on," Gareth said quietly, rising from his position by the window. "We should get dressed and see if there's anything useful we can do."
As they prepared for the day, Bete found himself thinking about his relationship with his older brother. Despite the typical sibling rivalry and occasional conflicts, there had always been an underlying bond of affection and loyalty between them. But lately, that bond seemed to be evolving into something deeper—a sense of shared responsibility and mutual respect that reflected their growing maturity.
"Gareth," Bete said as they finished dressing, "whatever happens, we look out for each other, right? And for Mira and Grandmother?"
His brother nodded solemnly. "Always. That's what family means."
They found the rest of the family already gathered in the kitchen, with Captain Fenris reviewing what appeared to be official documents while Grandmother Elsa prepared breakfast. Mira sat at the table, quietly eating her porridge while obviously listening to the adult conversation with the intensity that marked her as unusually perceptive for her age.
"Good morning, boys," their father said, looking up from his papers. "I have some changes to announce regarding your daily routines."
Both brothers exchanged glances, understanding that this was likely to be significant.
"Beginning today, all training activities will be moved closer to the village center. Bete, your sessions with Marcus will now take place at the guard training grounds rather than in the oak grove. Gareth, your advanced combat training with Sergeant Borin will include additional focus on defensive tactics and emergency procedures."
"What about school?" Mira asked. "And my reading lessons with Elena?"
"School will continue as normal, but with some modifications. The children will be kept closer to the village hall during the day, and outdoor activities will be suspended until further notice."
Bete could see that his father was trying to maintain normalcy while implementing practical security measures, but the changes still felt ominous.
"Father," Gareth said carefully, "is there anything specific that Bete and I should be doing to help? We're not children anymore, and we might be more useful if we understand what we're preparing for."
Captain Fenris set down his papers and studied both his sons with the measuring gaze of a military commander evaluating potential assets.
"You're right that you're not children anymore," he said finally. "And the time may be approaching when the village needs every capable person to contribute to our defense. But capability must be matched with wisdom and discipline."
He stood and moved to the window, looking out at the village that was beginning to stir with morning activity.
"If I give you additional responsibilities—real responsibilities that could put you in danger—I need to know that you'll follow orders without question, even if those orders contradict your personal inclinations. Can you do that?"
Both boys nodded seriously.
"And I need to know that you understand the difference between courage and recklessness. Being brave doesn't mean being stupid, and protecting others sometimes means protecting yourself first so that you remain capable of helping when it truly matters."
"We understand," Bete said, speaking for both of them.
Captain Fenris returned to the table and resumed his seat, but his posture remained formal and official.
"Very well. Gareth, beginning today you'll be assigned to assist with village communications. If emergency signals need to be carried between different areas of the settlement, you'll be one of the messengers. It's a position that requires speed, reliability, and the ability to keep a clear head under pressure."
Gareth straightened with obvious pride at being given real responsibility. "Yes, sir. I won't let you down."
"Bete, your role will be somewhat different. Marcus has recommended you for inclusion in what we're calling the 'observation network'—people positioned to watch for unusual activity and report it to the appropriate authorities. Your training has made you skilled at reading signs and noticing details that others might miss."
Bete felt a thrill of excitement mixed with apprehension. "What would that involve?"
"Specific assignments will depend on circumstances, but it might include monitoring forest paths for unusual tracks, watching for changes in animal behavior, or keeping an eye on areas where the normal guard patrols might not provide complete coverage."
Grandmother Elsa looked up from her cooking with an expression of concern. "Are you sure it's wise to involve the boys in potentially dangerous activities?"
"The activities themselves aren't necessarily dangerous," Captain Fenris replied. "But the situation we're preparing for could become very dangerous very quickly. I'd rather have Gareth and Bete trained and ready to help than caught unprepared if events move beyond our ability to shield them from involvement."
As breakfast concluded and the family prepared to begin their modified routines, Gareth pulled Bete aside near the front door.
"This feels like the beginning of something big," he said quietly. "Something that's going to change everything about how we live."
Bete nodded, feeling the weight of that observation. "Are you scared?"
"Terrified," Gareth admitted with characteristic honesty. "But also... excited, I guess? For the first time, we're being trusted to help protect the things we care about instead of just being protected ourselves."
"Promise me something," Bete said impulsively.
"What?"
"If things get really bad—if the village is attacked or people are in danger—promise me we'll stick together. Not just you and me, but all of us. The whole family."
Gareth was quiet for a moment, and Bete could see him considering the implications of such a promise. In a crisis, sticking together might not always be the tactically sound choice. Sometimes protecting the family might require separation and individual sacrifice.
"I promise we'll do everything we can to keep the family together and safe," Gareth said finally. "But Bete, you have to understand that sometimes protecting people means making difficult choices. If Father orders me to lead Mira and Grandmother to safety while he and you handle some threat, I'll have to follow those orders even if it means leaving you behind."
"I know," Bete replied, though the thought of separation filled him with dread. "But let's make sure it doesn't come to that."
As they left the house to begin their new responsibilities, both brothers carried with them a sense of crossed threshold. The carefree days of childhood were definitively behind them now, replaced by the sobering awareness that they might soon be called upon to make adult decisions with life-and-death consequences.
The bond between them had evolved from simple sibling affection into something more complex and profound—a partnership based on mutual respect, shared responsibility, and the absolute commitment to protect those they loved, no matter what sacrifices that protection might require.
Walking through the village streets toward their respective assignments, Gareth and Bete Loga moved with the purposeful stride of young men who understood that their peaceful world was balanced on the edge of a knife, and that very soon, they might be the ones asked to ensure that it didn't fall into darkness.
The shadows were indeed growing longer and more threatening with each passing day, but they would not find the Loga family unprepared or unwilling to stand against whatever emerged from the depths of the forest.
Together, they would face whatever came—as brothers, as protectors, and as the inheritors of a werewolf legacy that was about to be tested in ways their ancestors could never have imagined.