Death is saving me

Artorias kept focused eyes on his paws while he ran the whetstone down the length of his sword, listening to the satisfying shhhhnkk of metal being sharpened to a fine edge. As he twisted and moved the sword, the boy marveled at how the blade glistened in the light, captivating him with its beauty and lethality. The way it always seemed to be reflecting firelight is what had prompted him to dub his blade Embershard. Ever since his mothers had given him his birthday gift, Artorias had taken painstaking care to maintain it. He hadn't even gotten to use the sword yet and he was still making sure it was sharp and battle-ready. Who knew when another threat might come to the castle looking for them? As the Baron, he would need to be ready at all times to respond at a moment's notice.

As if on cue, Ulric's howl for all fighters boomed across the castle. Artorias' eyes narrowed with focus. This was not a drill. Snatching up his armor and fastening the buckles around his body, Artorias grabbed his sword and ran out the door to answer his Aegis' call. As he emerged into the castle courtyard, he saw several other Knights join him on his charge. "Knights, with me!" he barked in order, rushing through the gatehouse. "Find the Aegis and engage with any enemies you see!" Once they had exited the shelter of the castle walls, Artorias saw the reason for the call. It was a pack of giant dire wolves coming for the castle, and Ulric was trying to fend them off alone. Artorias' eyes burned as he charged into the fray, growling loud and fierce as he flung himself towards the closest dire wolf. He deftly dodged a swipe of a big, clawed paw and brought his sword up, cleaving the dire wolf's leg off at the knee like it didn't even exist. The dire wolf howled in terrified shock and pain, but was quickly cut off when Artorias followed up with a one-two slice that sent his sword through half of the dire wolf's neck, severing arteries and causing the dire wolf to slump to the ground while he bled out in seconds.

Artorias stared at the bloodied blade of his sword, awed by the killing power he now possessed. This was no longer a meager wooden sword used to bonk people over the head with. This ended lives. He turned to face off with the pack of Paleolithic dire wolves—but before he could charge forward, the sound of vicious snarling tore past his side in a blur of ash gray. The Carpathius boy blinked in surprise, staring in shock at the form of Resin leaping into battle to carve a bloody swathe through the dire wolves' ranks. Mom?! Resin was free?! He looked back over his shoulder, searching around for Ulric to find clarification and seeing him off to the side with Tamsyn. What were they doing? He watched Ulric give a nod to his mother, and then the Adravendi wolf ran back into the fight. Steeling himself, Artorias ran to join his Aegis, following dutifully with a steady gait while they walked behind Resin's bloodbath, executing the dying wolf she had left behind. He was still in awe at how easily his sword pierced the bodies of the wolves, snuffing out life with minimal effort.

But while he was distracted finishing off the downed enemy, Artorias heard the feral snarling again, this time much closer—and getting closer! Artorias glanced up in time to see his mother charging him with a manic look in her eye, but it was too late to move or heed Ulric's cry of warning. He saw his mother's jaws open, going for his throat, and instead rolled his shoulder forward, blocking his neck but catching all of her sharp, serrated teeth into the flesh of his shoulder just outside of his armor. Artorias growled in pain, feeling the searing of teeth ripping skin and warm blood on his fur, but then Resin was gone and Ulric was standing in her place, shielding him from his frenzied mother. He watched in horror as Resin lost control, going back to killing everything that stood near her, which fortunately was another invader. His eyes continued to follow her wild movements, realizing that this was it. This was the end of his mother. There was nothing left of Resin in there now.

Artorias was only partially aware of Ulric helping him back up and ushering him away from the fight, though Art wanted nothing more than to keep going and to watch his mother. He wanted to go fight with her again, to stand by her side, to defend their home together. Except that wasn't his mother—not anymore. Then he saw the biggest of the dire wolves catch Resin off guard, massive jaws ripping into her spine, and the bloodcurdling scream she let out seared into his brain. Artorias reacted on sheer instinct, hearing his mother scream and pushing back against Ulric to try to get to her and help her. The Aegis held firm though, bigger and stronger than the boy and able to prevent him from slipping away. "Mom!" Artorias shouted instead of thinking this time. "Let me go! We need to help her! We need-"

Another agonized scream, except this one was male, and when Artorias took advantage of Ulric's stunned state to slip past and see what had happened, his eyes went wide when he spotted the dire wolf stumbling about without its lower jaw, blood gushing from the gaping wound where its muzzle had once been. It was a horrific, gristly, and gory sight. But what was worse was that Resin was lying sprawled across the ground, unmoving. Artorias' body turned to stone, the young wolf frozen in place as if time itself had stopped all at once. Wide, amber eyes never left Resin's body. Warm blood continued to run down his right foreleg from the bite he'd sustained from Resin, dripping and forming small pools around his paw. Artorias didn't feel any pain though; he didn't feel anything at all. Tamsyn rushed up to Resin, and Artorias saw the fear contort into unbearable pain on his mother's face. His heart stopped beating. His mind stopped working. The world stopped. Everything stopped.

Artorias was gone. He felt nothing, heard nothing, knew nothing. A ringing in his ears drowned out his mother's screams of anguish. Ulric was somewhere else now, helping the wounded get away from the remaining dire wolves as the battle waned. All he knew was that he had to get to Resin. His paws began to move on their own, a slight limp to his right step from his mother's final gift to him. Artorias stumbled forward in a singular focus like he were sleepwalking, except he was hyper aware of everything. As he passed by the body of the dire wolf he had last executed, he grabbed his sword's hilt and pulled the blade that had still been stuck from the corpse, advancing toward his mothers in a steady march.

As he drew closer and closer, he saw the hulking form of Sirius finishing off the dire wolf that had killed his mother—and saw one final enemy approaching his wailing mother. His eyes narrowed, his feet kicked off the ground, sprinting forward silently to intercept the wolf with a horizontal slash that took the wolf's leg out from under it. The dire wolf toppled, but Artorias was far from done. A seething rage burned in his eyes as he swung again, and again, and again, carving through the wolf's chest and neck over and over, spraying blood every which way and covering himself in gore while he eviscerated his opponent. His anger came pouring out in seven, eight, nine swings of his sword, tearing the dire wolf to ribbons before taking its head off with one last strong blow to its neck. Artorias turned and stepped warily over to Tamsyn and Resin, staring down at the nightmarish sight. His stomach churned and a surge of overwhelming emotions ripped up his insides. Dead. Resin was dead. His mother was dead.

Artorias dropped his sword to the ground with a clatter of metal, taking the last few steps to come beside Tamsyn and slumping back to his haunches, crumbling in on himself. He couldn't take his eyes off of Resin's broken and bloody body if he wanted to. Staring at the glassy, lifeless eye of his mother, the mother that had held him close to her when he was a small pup and called him her little knight, the mother that had shaped him into the wolf he was today, the mother that had fought beside him to defend their home and gifted him the means to be even deadlier as a show of her faith and pride in him. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair! He wanted to yell, to scream, to pick up his sword and hunt down every remaining extra dire wolf in Auster. Instead, all Artorias could manage to do was throw his head back and release a long, sonorous, mournful howl to the world that contained all of his sorrow and pain, announcing the passing of Resin Carpathius, founder of the Hallows, a proud warrior, and a beloved mother.


"Artorias" | Thoughts | "Corbin"