Stoking the Embers

Artorias · 12-16-2020, 10:24 PM

The way his mother's expression shifted from a look of pride to grim reminiscence made Artorias' stomach drop a little. He hadn't meant to upset Resin with his question, but he also hadn't realized the gravity of what he was asking. The world was still so fresh to his young eyes, the concepts of good and evil, of right and wrong just fanciful ideas in his daydreams. He had never had to make a difficult decision or face an ethical dilemma in his life. He had never had to choose who lived and who died. And while he still could not possibly grasp the severity of such situations or the chance that he may one day face them, that was all part of the path of the warrior that he had chosen. This was the way. Before he could apologize for asking his cutting question, Resin began to answer, settling down to tell him the truth. It was what he needed to hear. Sometimes combat and war and death struck closer to home than some would like. It made no difference when death did not discriminate. All he could do was prepare himself to meet whatever came his way. Artorias listened with wide, attentive eyes as Resin told him that she had faced those she loved in battle, and confided that sometimes choosing what was the right thing to fight for was hard.

At her beckoning, Artorias padded closer to his mother, once more offering no resistance as she scooped him up closer into the embrace of her paws. The blue puppy watched with shocked fascination at the shift in her mood. He had never seen his mother this somber and pensive before. It helped to really drive home the importance of this particular lesson. The way Resin described fighting, especially with those closest to you, she painted it in shades of grey. There was very little black and white to her words, no clear cut case of who was right and who was wrong. Was that what it meant to be a knight? To fight for what you believed to be good? Artorias rested his smaller paws atop Resin's leg, leaning into her while he listened to her lesson. Battle was sounding more and more like a clash between ideologies, a friction of beliefs and morals more than merely a snapping and scraping of fangs and claws. He would always have options and decisions to make in battle. To be a true knight, Artorias would have to be half warrior, half monk. Give your opponent every opportunity to submit or retreat... But if the good weighs in your favor, do what needs to be done... For the rest of his days, Artorias would never forget those words from his mother. They would become the cornerstone of his tenets of combat.

"I will, Mom," the boy said with firm resolution. They were easy words to say; putting them into practice would be a true test of his resolve. Artorias nuzzled into Resin's chest, letting himself get lost in her smokey grey fur for a moment. "Can you show me some more things about how to fight? Dunkan's a good teacher, but he's not you or Mama." Artorias peered up at Resin with determined eyes, hoping she wouldn't cut their lesson short because of his question. He was like a sponge, soaking up everything she was teaching him, from basic footwork to the more philosophical aspects of battle.

"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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