The Forgotten Trial

Chapter Two

Werthin crouched low on the evening watch crag, the setting sun turns the sky a burning gold. The cold fall wind whipped his light gray fur and carried a strange, pungent scent. He lifted his stance to get his nose more into the wind. It wasn't the familiar tang of industry from the beavers nor the energizing hum of golden chi. This smell was raw and primal – the unmistakable odor of. "Death."

The rest of the pack started to smell it too, Werthin could see a few thousand heads turn and sniff the air, wisps of condensation visible in the sunset. The pack had decided a unified action was taken, knowing what that meant he flexed his exposed chest, his abs rippling his fur, as he leaned up onto two feet and let out a howl. Every wolf lifted their head and joined into the harmony of their voices. The one that carried the loudest was the wolves current leader, Wutzel.

The howling died down when a lone speedor was spotted far on the horizon, a small dust cloud following it. Werthin climbed down and dashed through the maze of tents and other impermanent residencies to a wooden watchtower where his fiance Worina was crouched low, a knocked arrow tracing the rider as the zig-zagged their way towards the camp, tendrils of steam rising from her steady breath.

"Who is it?" Werthin whispered.

Without breaking her concentration, she spat. "Lion, although I have no idea which one is stupid enough or suicidal enough to approach our tribe completely alone." Even crouching , he was a few centimeters taller than Werthin, her maple fur broken up by much lighter pale vitiligo patterns. Her arms were shaking from the strain of keeping her bow knocked and taught.

Other wolves had taken notice of the speedor and had started to get into defensive positions. As the speedor did a wide loop around the camp, Wutzel ordered the wolves to stand ready but relax. Werthin jumped down and stood next to Wutzel. He had shifted the holster for his double-sided sword to the quick-draw position, although he felt exposed without his armor on.

The rider pulled a hard stop just inside the entrance of the camp. They were a young lion with a dapper yellow and red fur pattern. They looked and smelled 20 at the oldest. Their heavy blue plate armor and crown marked them as royal. He held himself like a prince, even when staring down the entire wolf tribe. If it was not for an ugly sneer with a nose upturned in disgust, he may have even been considered handsome.

Wutzle barked an order, and five wolves lowered their spear and barred their teeth at the lion. The lion put up their paw in response, trying to show he meant no harm, but his sneer was not at all reassuring. He took in a deep breath and glared at every single wolf, seeming to calculate his odds if a fight broke out. "Who is your leader, if you are even civilized enough to have one?" He muttered coldly.

Multiple wolves lurched forward, hackles raised and fangs showing, but Wutzel snarled a warning, and they backed up but kept the aggressive mirthless smile. Wutzel himself did not look amused at the insult, but he stepped forward. "I guess you can say I am. Which means I am the one that decides if you live or die for trespassing." Wutzel stood as tall as he could, but he still had to look up to make eye contact.

"Good. I am Prince Leyan of the lions... Why did you kill my dad?" The prince gave a look of pure anger and hatred.

Wutzel's muzzle started to quiver in anger, his eyes burning red. The rest of the wolves looked like they were just waiting for the signal to kill this lion. "How dare you come into our home accusing us of murder with no evidence! How absolutely suicidal are you? I should have you killed for such an insult!"

The threat didn't seem to phase Leyan at all. Two strides were taken to get right in the face of Wutzel. The height difference between them was now much more apparent, with the lion towering half a meter above the wolf's leader. "No evidence!? I have all the evidence in the world! It was no secret that you hated him and would do everything you could to rule Chima! So tell me: why did you kill him?"

Wutzel's ears dropped back, and his pupils dilated. Spit flew from his mouth as he seethed. He kept opening his mouth to speak, but he seemed incapable of finding words strong enough to express the hatred he felt. When he spoke, all that came out was a cold and barely audible. "Kill him."

Werthin drew his dual-bladed staff and stepped forwards, the humming of the energized edges rung out. Other wolves, some with spears and others with guns, also stepped forward. The prince drew his greatsword as his eyes narrowed into slits. He dropped into a defensive fighting stance, with as much armor and blade between him and the blades leveled dangerously at him. His terror was clear as day, though. His knuckles' fur was spreading from how tight his grip was, and his breathing was irregular and short.

Werthin dropped into his fighting stance, his blade held close to him, and his chest turned as perpendicular to his opponent as he could manage while still facing him. His current lack of body armor made him incredibly nervous because one lucky hit would be it for him.

The whole wolf tribe was about to pounce on the lion prince when Worina's voice rang out in warning. "Second speedor inbound! Another lion!"

Wutzel put up his hand to get every wolf to pause as the second speedor whirred up. It stopped, and a much younger lion dismounted, a crown also marking him as royal. This one was in similar armor but with a chain undershirt and a lighter torso plate. Emerald green eyes shone with panic out from behind his glasses. His fur was much darker than his brethren, a dark brown with lighter red highlights in his growing mane. He ran to the side of his fellow lion and tugged on his shoulder. "Leyan! What are you doing!?" His voice quivered with fear.

Leyan shrugged him off. "Avenging our father Laith, now get out of here, you are not capable of handling this." There was a collective tension and hesitation that rose in all the wolves as they realized that they now had both of the lion princes to deal with. Wutzel broke down into unchecked anger as the new lion stared him down. "Your brother comes waltzing into our land and accuses us of killing your father! He then insults our entire pack! By all rights of the moon, he is ours to deal with, boy. Leave now before we are forced to kill you as well!"

The tension and anger in the pack were thick enough to chew on. The steam rising from the breath of the wolves gave them an almost ghostly look. Their collective eyes darted from the lions to their leader, awaiting a command.

"Please brother! Come home! I am just as hurt as you, but that is no excuse to get yourself killed!" The younger lion pleaded, his voice cracking from stress. "This is how you change everything for the worse!"

Leyan glared at his brother, his teeth barred and his body shaking with fury. "No one needs to hear your words!"

Laith also drew his sword, a narrower tachi whose edges glowed blue with chi energy. The wolves turned their attention to him, but instead of turning to face them, he turned to his brother. Regret was etched into his face as he unsteadily gripped the blade. "I don't want to hurt you, but I will do what I have to to make sure you are safe."

His brother's face flashed surprise at the actions but returned to his rage as he pointed his blade tip between Laith's eyes. Laith took a step back, the scent of fear wafting off him. "You are still a coward." Leyan hawked at Laith.

Wutzel snarled, clearly having enough of their crap. "The sibling conflict is awfully cute, but you two are still trespassing on our home. I'll give you two 30 seconds to leave before I let my family have dinner."

The two lions stared at each other, no words exchanged, but they were clearly having a very in-depth conversation. Laith was doing his best to look big, but his eyes were still darting around, his tachi being shifted from one hand to another. Leyan still looked murderous but seemed to be slowly coming to his senses, as his posture got more and more relaxed as they stared at each other. Wutzel kept tapping his foot and counting out loud. "15 seconds!"

The lions came to some sort of agreement because Leyan sneered once more at the wolves as he turned and stepped onto his speedor. "I will prove to everyone what you did." He shouted as his ride hummed to life, and he took off. Laith still smelled like fear as he scanned the crowd of wolves with a look of sorrow. His voice was quiet and hurt. "I am sorry..." He then got onto his own speedor and took off after his brother.

Werthin sheathed his blade with a muted shing. He turned to look at the still hatred filled face of Wutzel. They made eye contact, and both of their expressions went deathly grim. "So that's... who's going to..?" Werthin muttered darkly. The rest of the wolves discussed everything that just happened as they slowly relaxed and went back to what they were doing.

Wutzel nodded solemnly. "We are in for one hell of a ride."