I Hold with Those Who Favor Fire

It was impossible for Artorias to resist smiling when the Warlord's laugh filled the otherwise quiet infirmary and he commented on neither of his parents knowing what they were getting into when they had given him the name Sirius. To some extent, it was the truth. Growing up, Artorias had been told about his namesake, of the brave and powerful and admirable wolf that led their sister pack with a firm yet loving paw. The stories of Tamsyn's and Resin's time in the Armada with Sirius had always been his favorite stories, and while it had been no secret that he aspired to be just like them, Art had also aspired to be like Sirius. A powerful protector, a force for defending those he loved and cared for, a name that struck dread into his enemies' hearts. That was what made hurting him that much more difficult to the boy. He felt like a part of him was desecrating his role model—or maybe it was humanizing Seer more than he liked. Suddenly, this nigh invincible figure had been laid low by relentless rage and violent bloodlust at Artorias' own paws. As he got older, that dark truth seemed to become more and more prevalent: nothing lasts forever.

Something inside Sirius' eyes stirred emotions inside the young boy when he touched the Warlord. There was pain in those blue eyes, but also a look of pride, of admiration—was that a bit of possessiveness too? He couldn't tell. All Art knew was that when he had been at his lowest, feeling like the world had cut him down to size, Seer had come running to his family's aid. Even when he screwed up, he admitted to his wrongs and had nearly paid for it with his life. And even after all that, he was able to convince Artorias that none of this was his fault. There was a longing inside the boy's soul, hurting for the things he had lost when Resin had slipped away from them. As much as he hated to admit it, his fight with Sirius had given him the channel that he needed at the time. Seer was trying his best to help him.

Artorias listened with attentive eyes and keen ears as Seer gave him some rudimentary instructions to managing his own inner fury, then promised to show him some more once he had healed up. It was a fair request, one that Art was looking forward to. Sirius' final lesson was a hard one, but one he took with all the serious attention he would have any other important life lesson. He was already experiencing what it was like to try to fight something he could not physically touch. The other lesson piqued his curiosity, as it sounded like there was a story behind it. He had never found himself in a situation where that had happened, and he hoped he never would.

"Thank you, Sirius," he replied, heartfelt and appreciative for the Warlord's guidance and support. With a small smile gracing his lips, Artorias leaned his head closer to Seer's and nudged against the side of the injured wolf's neck in a short nuzzle. With Sirius, it almost felt like having a third parent, someone else looking out for him, watching over his family, even if it was from afar more often than not. "What can you do when you're in those situations? Where you can't fight for whatever reason?" He then followed up his question with a more specific one. "Is Briar really okay? I'm nearly a year old, I can take the truth." It wasn't that he didn't trust Sirius' word, but he was so tired of others shielding him from the truth or the details because they thought he was too young. Seer had been the only one to not spare him the gristliness of the real world. He cared deeply for Briar, and he'd rather know a harsh truth than be sold a kind lie.


"Artorias" | Thoughts | "Corbin"