The moment Kea heard about his sister's incident with the armour he was enwrapped. He knew about swords of course, he had seen Ember strapped to his fathers back. His eyes filled with images of his own shiny, named sword. Perhaps, if he could just prove his ability to hold one… his father would gift him a sword, and he could strap it to his own back and patrol the castle like a knight.

If he’d stopped to give it even two seconds of thoughts, he would have realised it was a bad decision. One that would lead him into trouble. But he was caught up in the moment. The shiny idea that if he could just touch one, everything would make sense.

He was almost to the armoury when his father walked around the corner, and the pup froze. Still as a statue, staring at his father. He wasn’t even there yet, but he looked every bit like a child with a hand in the cookie jar.


"Speech"

Artorias closed the door to the armory with a firm and secure click of the metal latch landing into place. After he'd caught Talyssa and Dread inside and unsupervised, the Aegis had taken great care to doubly ensure that door remained shut so snooping pups couldn't get into places they shouldn't be going. Gods only knew the tongue-lashing Briar would give him if one of their inquisitive babes got hurt exploring his armory on their own. Making his wya back down the short corridor to the great hall, Artorias briefly wondered what all of his children were up to right now. No doubt Thorn and Dusk were off getting into trouble with their competitions. The silence in the castle was almost deafening when he'd gotten used to the noise of five chaotic puppies.

Stepping out from the corridor into the great hall, Art's curiosity was swiftly answered as he saw Ciaran's dark-coated form only a few feet away and heading in his direction. Artorias greeted his son with a warm smile—then paused when he saw the shocked and worried face the boy was making, eyes as wide as dinner plates like he'd just seen a ghost. "Ciaran..." Artorias began, the upward inflection of his voice emphasizing his suspicion of what his son was up to. A brow raised over one amber eye. "Why do you look like you're doing something you're not supposed to be? What are you going this way for?"

"Artorias Carpathius"

His father caught on to his deer in the headlights look very quickly. Drat. Of course his father couldn’t just keep on walking, and thinking nothing of finding him here. Maybe freezing hadn’t actually been a good idea after all. His fathers suspicious gaze didn’t lift from him, and things got worse when Art asked what he was doing. Think fast! “I wasn’t going to the armoury!” he said quickly, lest his father get the wrong idea.

Now he just needed a really good excuse. “I was… looking for a snack. I’m hungry” he said, paying no mind to the fact that he was going the wrong way for the kitchen. Clearly the subtleties of lying weren’t very clear to him yet.


"Speech"

Ciaran's snappy and abrupt response caught Artorias off guard for a moment. He hadn't been expecting his son to swiftly deny going to a place he hadn't even been accused of going to yet, but it seemed the subtle art of subterfuge was something the Carpathius lad hadn't developed yet. Poor, sweet, honest Ciaran. The boy's feeble excuse of being hungry and looking for a snack further raised the eyebrow of his sire, who casually turned his head to the side to glance at the kitchen door on the opposite side of the hall.

He looked back to his son once more, giving him a glance that read "Really?" and chuckled under his breath. "Is that so?" he questioned further with a small, knowing smirk and a scrutinizing gaze. "Well, why don't we go fix you up something to eat then?" Artorias gestured for Ciaran to follow him and corralled his child toward the kitchen, using his larger body to block the pup's access to the armory corridor. If he wanted to play this game, then Art would play it back. "Unless... you weren't actually going to the kitchen." Artorias kept his gaze fixed on Kea's expression, waiting for him to come clean about his intentions.

"Artorias Carpathius"

He gave his father a sheepish smile, knowing the other wolf had easily seen through him. So it was with some surprise that he heard his father offer to head to the kitchen and fix him up something to eat. He opened his mouth, ready to take this easy out, and then paused. Mouth partly ajar as he looked at his father. It was like the moment paused, and he could see the two options. Continue the subterfuge, and let his father lead him away, knowing he’d been lied to. Or come clean and face the consequences. He grimaced.

Taking the easy out sounded good, but it didn’t feel right. Was that who he wanted to be? Someone who lied so easily to his father? “I’m sorry dad… I just wanted to look. Maybe touch, but just a little.” he said, looking at his fathers paws.


"Speech"

Just as he suspected, Ciaran didn't keep his charade up for long once Artorias started to play into it as well. He saw the moment of panic and conflict in his son's expression, and then he came clean. He was proud of his son for taking the honest path. Kea admitted to his desires—he wanted to see the armory and the treasures contained within. No doubt he had heard of the unsanctioned trip his sister had made into the workshop and wanted to see it for himself. Artorias simply gave Ciaran a knowing look while the pup apologized and explained his intentions. Well, he had to give Kea credit, he was honest and hadn't actually gotten into the armory on his own like Talyssa did.

"Mhmm, that's what I thought," said Artorias with a nod of his head. "Thank you for being honest with me, Kea. I'm very proud of you for that. Disappointed that you also tried to go places you shouldn't be, but proud of your honesty." The dire wolf reached a giant paw towards his child, aiming to ruffle his head fluff with a playful smirk. Lifting his gaze across the empty hall, Art motioned for Ciaran to follow him. He led the way back down the corridor to the armory door, pausing with his paw on the latch while he fixed his son with a stern gaze. "Before I let you in here, you must promise to not touch anything unless I tell you it's okay, and you cannot tell your mother. Understood?" Artorias waited for Kea to confirm his understanding, and then he opened the door.

Stepping through the threshold into the familiar workshop, Artorias stood off to the side of the room by a weapons rack while he let Ciaran look about the armory. He smiled, watching his child take in the new sights and smells of everything around him. After some time to allow the curious pup to explore, Art lifted a dagger he'd been fixing up from the workbench and set it down on the ground for Ciaran to see. "This is a dagger. It's like a very small, shorter sword." He pointed to each part in turn while he named them. "This is the grip, where we hold the weapon in our teeth. This is the crossguard. It protects us from cutting ourselves on our own weapons when we use them. And this is the blade. You can touch the smooth side, but keep your paws away from the edges, okay?"

"Artorias Carpathius"

Delight warred with disappointment. His father was proud of him for coming clean, but unhappy that he had sought to break the rules in the first place. Kea hadn’t stopped to think what it would feel like if he got caught, he’d just wanted to explore and see the shiny things like his sister had. Even if that had led her into trouble as well.

He giggled as his father ruffled his fur, wondering if coming clean had taken off a lot of the trouble he had been about to get into. He looked up as his father lifted his paw, ready to be escorted back to their room when his father motioned him forward instead. Frowning in confusion, he followed after his father. His eyes widened as they reached the armour room.

“I promise, I promise!” he said, rearing up on two legs to kiss his very tall fathers cheek in absolute delight. Then Artorias led them into the room and he looked about himself taking in the scent of leather and metal and the way the swords glistened. Sharp and dangerous looking.

He moved through the room, his nose working double time. Making absolute care to look and not touch. when his father lifted something shiny, he immediately trotted over. Looking at the little dagger as it was shown to him. “It’s like a sword, but for little people” he giggled as he ooh and aah over the shiny weapon. He ran his hand over the smooth side of the blade, and caught it accidentally with a claw. He froze at the ringing sound that emerged, looking up at his father to see if he’d stuffed up.


"Speech"

A promise and a kiss of affection given, and the door was opened to a veritable wonderland. The enthusiasm in Ciaran's behavior was infectious, and the more excited he got, the wider Artorias' smile grew. As soon as he let his giddy son loose in the armory, Ciaran was off like a shot, sniffing at everything and taking in the sights. It warmed the Aegis' heart to see his children so fascinatedly exploring their world and taking an interest in their father's passions as well. It was this youthful innocence that he knew he had to protect. His own childhood had been marred with strife, conflict, and tragedy. So long as he lived, none of his children would ever know such hardships as he had.

When he presented the dagger to Ciaran to inspect, Art very carefully watched where his son's nose and paw went, prepared to snatch his son by the wrist if he ventured a little too close to the sharpened edge. Kea's description of the dagger as a sword for little people brought a barking laugh from the Aegis, his shoulders quivering with laughter at the sheer innocence and wonder of how a child's mind worked. "I hadn't thought about it that way, but I guess you're not wrong!" he remarked with another chuckle. "Remember though, Kea, that even the smallest blade is still a blade. It has the same capacity to destroy as the biggest sword does. Never underestimate something because of its size." Keen amber eyes watched his son's paw move over the smooth edge of the blade, then heard the sharp ting of metal being struck as his claw hit the steel. Artorias gave Ciaran a gentle smile to reassure him nothing was wrong.

"These weapons are incredibly durable," he explained, lifting the dagger in a paw and hitting the blade against the nearby workbench with a thud to show his son that no damage had been done to it. "Now if you want to see a really special kind of metal..." Setting the dagger back on the bench and out of reach of puppy paws, Art stood up and moved over to a locked door in the far corner of the room. He unlatched the door and slipped inside, reemerging a few moments later with a short sword in his jaws. He came to set the blade down before Ciaran. The distinctive ripple patterns that swirled over the steel were unlike any of the other weapons hanging on the walls of the armory. "This is a very special kind of metal," Artorias explained, running his paw pads over the smooth swirls of the Damascus steel blade. "If you really want to hear a blade sing, listen to this." Rapping a claw against the steel, the armory was suddenly filled with the melodic reverberations of the sword, uniquely different than the dagger had been.

"Artorias Carpathius"

Kea nodded vigorously, determined to show his father he understood the danger. He didn’t, really. He’d never seen a blade cut flesh before, but he was willing to believe it if it allowed his father to give him a little more trust. At the ringing of his claw to the blade, Art reassured him, and picked up the blade. Kea gasped as his father smacked the blade against the workbench. He jumped up and peered at the blade, only to find it completely unbalanced. “Cool!” He said, and it was lucky his father set the blade back out of reach, or the temptation to start smacking it against any available surface might have proven too much for him.

He eyed the dagger longingly for a few more moments, before tearing away his gaze to see what his father was going for. Art brought a new sword over. The design on this one like a breeze over water. At the singing sound it made, Kea giggled and clicked his own claw to the metal, making it sing again. “Why is this one different, dad?”


"Speech"

His obsidian and sapphire furred pup's enthusiasm brought a paternal warmth to Artorias' heart, seeing so much of himself in his young son. Nobody had fed his excitement this way when he was young; he had discovered and fostered it all his own. His mothers had shown their own support by giving him his sword, and Sirius could be credited for planting the seed of his interest when he'd shown a puppy Artorias his wrist blade, but for the most part everything that existed in this room was because of Artorias. The lighthearted giggles Kea made when the steel sang its song for them brought a few loving chuckles from the Aegis as well, rapping his claws against the blade a few more times to create a metallic melody in the otherwise quiet armory that seemed to bounce off of the walls at all times, ringing pleasantly in his ears.

Astute as ever, Ciaran asked why this sword was special. "It's the steel, my little knight, though why that is I could not tell you," he explained, tracing some of the flowing patterns forged into the blade with careful paw pads and ginger claws. "When my mother—your grandmother—brought the pack to this place, we discovered an arsenal of these special weapons in the armory. They were the only ones to survive untarnished, preserved carefully by their original makers. This steel is harder, stronger, yet lighter than the other weapons in here. It remains wickedly sharp far longer than expected and is stunningly beautiful to boot. I've taken to calling it Carpathian steel, but if it has a true name I do not know it." Of course, he couldn't take credit for forging them. Sure, he had restored all of the weapons and maintained them meticulously, but he was no blacksmith like Ruga was. "My sword, Embershard, is made of this same steel also."

"Artorias Carpathius"

His father clinked the blade a few more times, and the two wolves - alike in many ways - grinned together. His father called him Little Knight, and Kea sat up a little straighter, pride and delight in his eyes. He could be a knight some day. Someday soon, perhaps, if he worked at it.

He was interested to learn the history of the blades. That they had originated here, and that his father named it after their blood. Kea couldn’t help but grin at that. Carpathian steel like it was made for them.

“Is there… is there enough of it to go around, pappa?” He asked softly, knowing how deeply he wanted a sword of that steel. He knew his father wouldn’t let him have one now, and what if he missed out on the chance in the future?


"Speech"

Artorias noticed the swell of pride in his second born, the glee in his dark eyes when he called him a knight. It came as no surprise that both his boys fancied the path of the warrior. He had been equally drawn to it at their age, and just as Resin had encouraged him and trained him along his journey, so too would he offer that road to any of his children. Ciaran was enthralled with his tales as he explained the history of how these weapons all came to be, hanging on every syllable and every detail Artorias spoke. Then came the question he really should have expected, but hadn't been ready for. Would there be enough Carpathian steel for them all?

Artorias' gaze shifted from his son up to the locked strongroom across the armory where the rest of the special weapons lay in wait. The short answer was no. There would never be enough of the rare steel to arm every member of the Hallows that ever would exist, and with a finite amount of it in their armory and no known way to reproduce it yet, someday the steel would run out. He and Ruga had worked to painstakingly restore the weapons they had, and Artorias would keep them in perfect shape until they were claimed, but the fact of the matter was simple—no new Carpathian steel weapons were being made.

Turning a reassuring smile back to his son, Artorias leaned forward aiming to boop his nose against that of Kea's. "Don't you worry about that, my boy. When you come of age, if you wish to have one, there will be plenty left for you and your siblings." That much he could promise Ciaran. The Hallows had enough to give all of his first litter a special weapon should they desire it. "But you will need to prove you're fit to wield such a weapon, son. All weapons are dangerous, and these are especially so. If you show me that you're serious about your training and that you're responsible enough to care for it properly, then we can consider it." Art lifted the sword back up in his jaws, the steel reflecting a rippling ray of silver light as it moved through the air. The Aegis returned it to its home in the vault and locked it, giving his son a lopsided smile. "And speaking of training, how would you like to come see how your father first learned how to use a sword when he was your age?"

"Artorias Carpathius"

His father leaned forward, booping his nose against Kea and the boy closed his eyes, giggling as he wiggled his head back and forth to bump his own nose against his dads. “I will want one, I will!” He said, knowing with absolutely certainty that he would want one when he came of age. He didn’t know when that would be, but he would be waiting for it.

“I’ll train” He agreed, nodding his head seriously. He would throw all his time and energy into his lessons and do his dad proud. Being a Knight was his dream. “I wanna see!” he agreed to this next offer, bouncing on his paws. He would get to see his dad fight?


"Speech"

His son’s boundless enthusiasm brought peels of laughter from the young father. Artorias loved the youthful wonder and excitement all five of his children possessed and he hoped they never lost that spark in their lives. Ciaran vowed to keep to his training so when he came of age, he would have earned one of the rare weapons his family kept under lock and key. "I know you will, my little knight," replied the proud Artorias, grinning from ear to ear with a bright, fatherly smile. It came as little surprise that Kea would want to see how he grew up learning how to fight and Art was more than willing to give his boy a glimpse into his past.

"All right, come with me, Kea!" Artorias ushered his dark-coated pup towards the armory door, waiting for him to step out so he could close the door behind them and prevent any other curious pups from slipping in behind them. With a beaming smile to Kea, Art led the way around the castle to the opposite wing, down to the very last room at the end of the hall. Pushing open the double doors, the Aegis revealed the pristinely-maintained dojo within. A large padded ring occupied most of the space in the room, the ring surrounded by wooden training dummies all in various states of destruction.

Artorias led Kea inside and over to a rack of wooden training swords off to the side. He hoisted out one of the larger ones, then picked up a smaller one and laid it before Ciaran to inspect. "This is how your dad learned how to fight with a sword. I was just a little older than you when I got my first training sword. I couldn’t be separated from it!" Artorias took the hilt of the full-sized sword in his jaws and lifted the weapon, spinning it with a bit of a flourish to catch it in midair. He then gestured for his son to pick up the smaller sword and test it out.

"Artorias Carpathius"

He practically preened as his father called him his little knight. He had big dreams, and while right now only little paws to fill them, he had every intention of learning as he grew. “Coming!” he promised as he scampered with his father to the armoury door. He did give one last big, sorrowful glance towards the shiny collection before his father closed the doors, cutting off his view.

He let out a soft sigh, before distraction cheered him up almost immediately after. Following after his dad on an adventure as the towering leader brought him towards the training dojo. As they entered, and his dad pulled out some training swords, laying one before Kea. with big eyes, the boy touched a reverent paw to it. “Do you… do you still have your one?” he asked softly as his dad admitted to having his own about Kea’s age. He obediently picked it up in his mouth, and looked up to his dad for the next instruction.


"Speech"

The excitement in his boy was palpable, and Artorias couldn't help but smile proudly. He hoped that none of his children ever lost that childlike wonder and zeal for life. As a father, he would do all he could to make sure that never came to pass. Ciaran followed him enthusiastically down the halls to his dojo and listened attentively while Artorias explained how he had learned to become as proficient at armed combat as he was. With that same sense of awe, Kea asked him if he still had his original training sword, and the Aegis beamed with a wide smile. "Sure do! It's kept locked up in a chest in our chambers, along with all the things from when your dad was a pup just like you." The wooden sword and leather body armor that Outlaw had given him years ago may as well have been sacred relics as far as Art was concerned. For him, they were where his destiny had truly begun. Maybe this moment here would be the start of Ciaran's own path.

Artorias watched Ciaran lift the wooden sword, seeming a little cumbersome and imbalanced, but totally expected for a small pup getting his first feel for the additional weight of a weapon in their jaws. It made Art smile around the sword hilt in his mouth, giving his son all the time he needed to get comfortable with holding the wooden sword. Then he positioned his feet shoulder length apart to brace himself, setting his stance to make sure he was solid. "Do like I do. Set your paws apart, just like when you're fighting without a sword. Balance yourself, make sure you feel sturdy with the ground." Then Artorias began a slow demonstration of turning his head to bring the wooden sword through the air in slow arcs and slices, moving equally as slowly forward so each swing brought with it a step in advance. "Treat your weapon like it's a part of yourself. Feel how it moves when you move your head. Which directions it goes, how to control the movements. Remember to always be moving your paws as you swing."

Art glanced back to Ciaran, urging his son to join him with a nod of his head. He moved slowly alongside his pup so that Kea could watch him and use him as an example. It was a basic lesson, but one of the most important ones to building a foundation for sword fighting. He had taught Fern this way, he had taught Mercury this way, and he would teach his children the same way as well.

"Artorias Carpathius"