Stoking the Embers

Artorias · 11-28-2020, 08:33 PM

Resin was always so hard to read, her expression stoic and unyielding as Artorias had expressed his desires and prospects of the future to her. As the young pup sat between his mother's long, outstretched legs, he kept his steely gaze on hers, refusing to look away even when her large tongue ran over his forehead in an affectionate kiss. Two tiny chunks of amber held the focus of the solitary citrine eye of his mother; he had to show that he was serious about this. This wasn't some far-flung fantasy of an imaginative puppy. These were his hopes and aspirations. All he could hope for was that his intentions were getting across loud and clear. The rumble in Resin's chest worried him for a moment; was she considering if he was worthy of the life he was choosing to pursue? Was she sizing up the boy, determining if he was worth the effort? Or was she trying to figure out how to let him down gently?

To his surprise and delight, Resin instead began to tell him a story. Artorias sat back on his haunches, fixated on his mother as she began to regale him with the tale of her life and what had led her to the choices she had made. Artorias had always loved his parents' stories, but this one was more of a cautionary tale than a fantastical fable of battle and glory. His little heart thumped proud and strong in his chest while he listened, taking to heart the struggle and strain she had put herself through in her pursuit of the warrior's path. A twinge of nervousness twisted the boy's stomach, but more than anything, he felt eager and driven. This was not going to be an easy life he was choosing, he had been aware of this, but it was the life that held the most promise—a chance to be fulfilling in ways no other path could offer.

The path is not easy... Those words echoed in Artorias' mind. He would be committing to a lifelong service to others, to the betterment of himself and his pack. It would be difficult. It would hurt. There would be strain and struggle and sacrifice. Now Resin posed him the ultimate question: was this truly what he wanted? Although Artorias' serious expression had softened in the course of absorbing his mother's words, the look of focus and hunger in his eyes hadn't left his gaze for even a second. A small smile graced his lips and he happily pushed his head and face back into his mother's nose when she ruffled the fur on his head, returning her affection where he could get it. Resin wasn't nearly as outwardly affectionate as Tamsyn was, but Artorias had never doubted her love for him or his siblings for a moment—the ash grey woman just had a different way of showing it.

As Artorias looked back to his mother's face, eyes tracing the scars, the missing optic from the left side of her head, and considered what she was telling him, he let his mind wander. There were many other paths life could take, and Resin was offering him an out, an easy escape before anything got hard. But the more Artorias thought about it—the more he imagined—the more determined he became. If he didn't choose the path of the warrior, there might not be anyone to stand in for his mothers' place. There might not be anyone to be the bulwark between the evils and dangers of the world and the good it tried to snuff out. No one might take up arms against the threats that endangered the innocent or the meek. He thought of Rudy, Bo, Gwyn, Daphne... He thought of the other pups in the pack, and the rest of the wide world he had yet to see. If not him, who else would be their champion in an ever-darkening world? Who else could be the fire that lit up the night? Even if he could not right every wrong, surely one more sword in the fight was better than being one shy, and if he inspired others to the same, the way Resin and Tamsyn had inspired him, perhaps he could leave a lasting mark on Boreas for the better.

Artorias had his answer.

"I want to commit to the path of the warrior," he said, lifting his adamant gaze back to his mother's. "I want to continue what you and Mama started. I wanna be strong and fierce enough to fight back anyone who wants to harm someone else, and I wanna help make the world safer and better for everyone. And..." Artorias paused, placing his smaller paws up on one of Resin's legs. "I wanna make you and Mama proud of me." He didn't give voice to the concerns of the pain or the risk of getting seriously hurt. This was fighting, this was warfare, and this was death they were talking about. Those were occupational hazards of the life Resin had chosen and he was now choosing as well. Sure, it made him nervous, but if Resin could mould him into the perfect warrior, those concerns would be inane. Pain came with the turf. But so did glory, honor, and the chance to improve the world. Yes, this was where his destiny lay. And someday all of Boreas would know the stories of Artorias, son of Resin and Tamsyn, the Knight of the Hallows.

"Speech" | Thoughts

One big happy family

Artorias has two ravens named Corbin and Eira and a fox named Argent. Assume they are within calling distance at all times.
As his mate, Briar may enter Artorias' threads unless marked Private.
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