A chill wind drifted across the patio prompting Cyan to draw her blanket tighter around her shoulders, her long auburn-colored hair falling loose around them. Even though the actual temperature wasn't that low, the air was heavy with moisture, cooled by the low-hanging winter sun. Some of it had already collected on the nearby grass and crystallized into a light frost. Cyan sighed and gently rocked back on the porch swing, turning her gaze upwards to the sky. The sun had finished setting behind the distant city skyline half an hour ago, and the brilliant hues were now giving way to the gentle twinkles of star light. The wind had carried away all of the clouds that had held the colors of the sunset, and it was going to be a perfect crystal clear night sky. She stared up at it for a while until the sound of creaking wooden floorboards alerted her to a visitor.

A shadow was cast onto the deck by the light from the front door, and the spring groaned as door was opened. The figure inside quickly slipped out and let the door click shut. Vermilion cut an imposing figure for only fifteen years of age; a hair below two meters tall, broad shoulders with sharp facial features, and a luxurious shock of red hair parted down the middle into long bangs that fell almost to his cheeks on either side of his face, with the rest swept backwards into a closely cropped trim. He still wore his school uniform, but his exposed arms were thick with wiry muscles, the rewards of a new training regimen. Cyan looked up to see him favoring her with one of those 'big brotherly' smiles that she hated so much. She turned away in silence as he moved to sit beside her on the bench.

"Rough day, huh?", he asked.

She said nothing, continuing to stare straight ahead, but gave a little shrug of one shoulder as a reply.

Vermilion pressed his lips together, nodded slowly, and looked down. They sat quietly for a moment before he spoke again, "Dad was looking for you. He said he wants to talk to you once the neighbors leave."

Cyan's head suddenly snapped upwards, and she shot a hard, wide-eyed glare at her brother, "You told him?"

"Hey c'mon, he was going to find out eventually." Vermilion replied, raising his hands in a pacifying gesture, "Would you rather he heard it from the headmaster first?"

She bolted up from the swing, a flurry of thoughts rushing through her mind. She first thought of running, then dismissed it when she realized she had nowhere to go. Then she replayed the scene from the training ring in her head over and over again, trying to come up with some other exculpating factor, but there had been no one else but her involved. She huffed out her breath and then fell back onto the swing in exhaustion.

Vermilion cocked his head to one side in an acknowledging nod, "Well that was quicker than usual. This must be serious."

Cyan glared crushed ice at him and said, "Stop pretending like you know what I'm thinking."

Vermilion responded with another chuckle, "You're just too easy to read, little sister."

"And stop calling me that! We're the same age!"

He started to laugh and correct her oversight of six weeks, but after seeing her expression thought the better of it. He was also about to pat her on the head, but then quickly thought the better of that too. He began to say something else, but before he could speak the front door creaked open again. Mrs. Zee, the neighbor from a few houses away stepped out, followed closely by their father. She was a vibrant woman; tall, with partially greying hair coiled into a small bun at the base of her neck, black skin and even darker eyebrows, wearing a wool turtleneck sweater. She engaged in polite conversation with Dad as they stepped on to the porch.

"I'm sure it will be fine." he said as he shook her hand, "Stop by the pharmacy tomorrow and we'll find a treatment that will help."

"Thank you, Dr. Athelward." she replied.

"Please. Conroy." he gently corrected with a smile.

She nodded graciously and smiled back, then turned to look down at the siblings on the porch swing, both of whom immediately stood up. Mrs. Zee smiled back down at them with the eyes of a loving mother, "Oh, hello you two."

Vermilion smiled and nodded politely, as did Cyan, only without the smile.

"How is school going?"

Cyan flinched and looked away. Vermilion noticed and took an imperceptible step forward, "Going well. The instructors say at our rate we might be ready to apply to the academy by next year."

"A year early? Wonderful, good for you." she paused before she turned to leave, "Oh, Cyan? If you see my son tomorrow, would you please tell him to come home at night for a change?"

Cyan nodded and replied, "Yes ma'am."

Mrs. Zee chuckled at the formality and inclined her head to Dad once more before stepping off the porch. The three of them lingered in place watching her leave before Dad turned towards the two of them. He looked down at Cyan, who nervously chewed on her lower lip, but stared directly back up at him. They remained that way for a long moment, with her brother looking back and forth between them.

"Vermilion," he said, breaking the silence at last, "Would you... go and set the table for dinner?"

"Sure, Dad." the boy nodded, seemingly grateful for the excuse to leave. He gave his sister another look with both eyebrows raised, and stepped back inside. Cyan took the opportunity to collapse back onto the swing. Dad watched Vermilion disappear into the dining room before he said anything.

"So," he said, moving to sit next to her on the bench, "your brother said you had an interesting day."

"It's none of his business." Cyan spat out quickly.

"No? Well it is mine." he replied sternly, "It wasn't enough that you were picking fights with the other students? You're picking them with the instructors now, too?"

"I wasn't!" Cyan protested.

"You called him an 'ignorant old geezer'."

Cyan crossed her arms defiantly and scowled, "Only after he called me a loud-mouthed brat."

Dad ignored the interruption, and continued, "And you said you could teach a better class than he could?"

"He just didn't want to admit he was wrong!"

Dad rubbed his forehead, "It doesn't matter if you think he's wrong. It was martial instruction. He is the teacher. You are the student. You're there to learn."

"So I should sit there quietly and practice obviously inferior techniques?" she asked, voice laden with sarcasm.

Dad cast a sidelong glance at the ground and sighed, "Well, no."

"Then, what? I should dumb myself down for the benefit of everyone else?"

"Of course not, Cyan don't be obtuse." he exhaled, pushing out the building frustration with it, "He has to teach using methods that are of the greatest benefit to everyone. Just because you pick them up more quickly doesn't make them 'inferior'."

"But he—"

"And even if you found a superior method," he continued, placing a noticeable emphasis on the word, "there is a much better way of informing the teacher than trying to call him out and embarrass him in front of the entire class. You could have stayed after the lecture was over and spoken to him privately. You could have gone to him on your own time and asked for more advanced instruction, after first proving you could handle it."

Cyan opened her mouth in further protest, but closed it again when she couldn't think of anything to say.

Resting his hands on his knees, he took a deep breath, in preparation for one of his many lectures, "Cyan, this isn't a normal preparatory school you're in. It's one of the most difficult combat schools in the entire kingdom of Atlas. You're training to be a Huntress."

She sighed, "I know."

"And as a Huntress, you are going to have responsibilities. The cities might be safe now, but the creatures of Grimm outside them are dangerous, and you'll be expected to face them. The fundamentals you are learning now—"

"'are the foundation of all my future training.'" she finished, "I know, I know!"

Dad's expression changed to one of forlorn exasperation, "Then why do you always have to be so confrontational about everything?"

"I—", she lifted her knees to her chest, and wrapped her arms around them tightly. The defiance drained from her face, being quickly replaced by fatigue, "I don't know."

The breeze picked up again, and Cyan found herself shuddering from the cold. She shuddered again when her father wrapped his arms around her in a hug. His warmth washed over her in waves that eased the anxiety out of her.

"You don't have anything to prove to anyone." he said quietly, "As long as you are doing your absolute best, I'll be proud of you, alright?"

She nodded, sniffing her emotions back, and then turn her head to smile at him, "Thanks, Dad."

He smiled back and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

"Well, I'm glad we got that over with." he said, with a sigh of relief, "I've been holding on to this all day just so we didn't have to end on a sour note."

He reached behind him and produced a small, brightly wrapped, rectangular box from his back pocket and placed it in her lap, "Happy birthday."

Cyan's bright cerulean eyes glittered with anticipation. She picked up the box and turned it over and over again in her fingers, "What is it?"

"A present." he said through a sardonic grin.

She half-lowered her eyes to him, "I know that!"

"Then open it, silly."

She did, and the wrapping paper quickly gave way to a dark-blue velvet jewelry case. Cyan pried it open, and revealed a small silver necklace, upon which hung an intricately carved facsimile of the moon, with the fragments trailing behind it in perfect alignment. She carefully removed the pendant from the box and held it up in front of her, watching it sparkle delicately in the faint illumination provided by the night sky.

"Oh Dad, it's beautiful."

"It was your mother's." he said, "I think she would have wanted you to have it."

Cyan stiffened, then she turned the moon over to see "Mireille", her namesake, embossed on the back. She settled back against the swing again, regarding the pendant thoughtfully.

"You never talk about her."

It wasn't really a question.

Dad turned away and leaned back as well, staring straight ahead off the porch. Several lines formed around his mouth, but he said nothing. Cyan had never known her mother, but she had always known that she didn't share a mother with Vermilion despite them looking practically like twins. She also knew that Vermilion's mother had been gravely injured during a Grimm attack and then died giving birth to him. She had also done the math. Her brother was only six weeks older than she was. Which meant that her mother had been pregnant with her the same time Vermilion's mother was pregnant with him. She had been asking Dad about her since she was old enough to add, but despite her inquiries, he never said a word.

"Someday you'll understand it, when you're ready," he said finally, "Just know that she loved you." he looked down at her again, his smile returning, "And so do I."

She leaned into him, wrapping her arms tightly around the back of his neck, "I love you too, Dad."

He returned her embrace, and they sat there quietly on the porch swing until her grumbling stomach reminded her that dinner was waiting inside. He grinned at her and rose from the bench. She followed him up, proudly fastened the pendant around her neck, and followed her dad inside.