Specters of our Past and Future

The world was broken. Cursed—corrupted—damned. These were the only words the young alpha could possibly come to when he watched the sun set over the western sea. This was the third night in a row that the sun had failed to cast the evening sky in its beautiful explosion of warm colors; reds, oranges, and goldenrods were absent from the sky and in their place were deep indigos and navies, the heavens perpetually cast in a veil of twilight when not plunged into the infinite blackness of night. Though Artorias didn't have as many years on this earth as others in his pack, no one seemed to have an answer or explanation for the strange events going on as of late. It was as if the entire world had shifted off course, a train derailed from its proper track and careening into an empty and terrifying void. Amber eyes watched the last fading moments of light over the western horizon with a tense grimace. The night had brought beauty and terrors the likes of which he never would have been able to imagine before now, and as the world grew more and more bizarre, the recently anointed Aegis worried for the safety of his pack and his wolves.

Silhouetted by the ever growing full moon, Artorias held his breath while the final rays of the sun's dying light vanished—and then the world was gradually plunged into the dark of night. His eyes closed, waiting, listening to the sounds around him. A cold breeze picked up almost immediately, the wind rippling around him and shuffling his fur with its chill. It appeared like a phantom eager to embrace him with its icy breath. Art's hackles raised, an instinctive reaction to the strangeness of the unknown. When Artorias opened his eyes once more, the world was filled with those blue fireflies once more. Though... were there even more of them now? Everywhere he looked, he saw more and more of the blue lights. What had begun as a few dozen had now become hundreds. There was a noticeable drop in the temperature and the wind seemed to be picking up even more, whistling in his ears. He could almost swear he heard a voice in it.

That's enough for one night... thought the dark-furred wolf to himself. Rising to his paws, the young brute turned and gazed out over the firefly-laden plains. The unnatural mist had yet to roll in, but the moon hung fat and full in the sky, closer to the earth than ever before. It looked as if it were about to crash into the earth at any moment, held on only by an invisible thread. Artorias didn't like this one bit. With a deeply concerned sigh, the Carpathian wolf began to head back towards the castle to make sure every Hallowed wolf was safely within its walls for the night.

"Artorias..."

His name whispered in his ear gave the young brute pause. Black ears stood erect on his head as a chill ran down his spine. Artorias turned, casting steely amber eyes out across the plains. He scanned the empty lands, looking for some sort of explanation, a logical answer to what he thought he heard. Had the wind just whispered his name? No, that was impossible... right?

"Artorias Carpathius"