Why So Blue, Boy?

The sounds of furious, frustrated growls echoed around his makeshift dojo while Artorias unleashed a merciless assault on a training dummy with his wooden sword. Since he had left Resin in her cell and promised to help her, he'd been less than useless in that task. Ulric had sent out almost all the healers in a desperate gambit to try and procure some more herbs and medicines to tend to his injured mother while Gwyn watched over her. That meant nobody was around for him to talk to and try to figure out the puzzle that was Resin's worsening condition. Nothing made him feel more insignificant than being totally and utterly useless, which was exactly how he felt doing nothing but waiting—waiting for the healers to return, waiting for Resin to finally snap for good, waiting for anything!

So he had been unleashing his emotions out in the only way he knew how: beating the shit out of the training dummy like it was some existential threat to his survival. Stubborn vexation and mounting anger and sorrow continued to twist the boy's heart inside his chest, released from him with every vicious swing of his sword that clattered off of the stuffed dummy's body. In front of his eyes he saw flashbacks of the night before. He saw his mother slumped against the wall, covered in blood and crying. He heard his other mother's frenzied banging and shouting from inside their room. He saw Resin locked up, demanding they never speak to her again. He saw Rudy giving up on her and accepting her fate without any show of resistance. He saw the terrified look on Gwyn's face. He heard Tamsyn's sobs and laments for her mate. Every flashback made Artorias swing harder and harder, the boy snarling with each strike that shook the dummy violently. Then, with a flurry of attacks, Artorias yelled in anger and smashed his sword against the dummy's head particularly hard, decapitating the training dummy with a snap of wood and shattering his sword into a dozen splintered pieces that went sailing across the floor.

Emotions pouring from the broken dam, Artorias crumpled to the floor while the hilt of his broken sword fell to the floor with a clatter. The young brute slammed a paw into the stone while he bared his teeth in a silent snarl and tears dripped across the floor. Why was this happening to them? What had they done to deserve this? While he had been breaking down he had heard Sirius' howl, followed shortly by Tamsyn's welcoming him in. Artorias paused, caught between wanting to go see Sirius and beg him for help and not wanting the older warrior to see him in this state. The Warlord had once told him that if he ever needed help, all he had to do was come to him. Well, he needed help now more than ever—but would Sirius even be able to help them with this? Artorias sat back on his haunches in the quiet dojo, listening to his ragged breathing echoing off the walls while he sniffled and tried to wipe his face dry. He couldn't break down; not like this. His family needed him to be strong for them. He had to come back from this for them.

A sudden sound pulled Artorias out of his squalor for a brief moment. Someone was calling his name. The boy held his breath to stifle his crying, listening harder to see if the voice came back. As expected, there it was again, out in the corridor. But that voice... It couldn't be... Wiping his face one more time to make sure he didn't look too disheveled, Artorias got up and walked over to the doors and flung them open, peering out into the corridor. Sure enough, it was Briar's voice calling to him. "Briar...? Is that you...?" he called after her, his voice a hissing whisper that echoed just enough to be heard. He glanced up and down the hall to see if he could figure out where she was. "Briar, over here! Down the hall, wherever you are."


"Artorias" | Thoughts | "Corbin"