Specters of our Past and Future

Briar didn't need to verbally confirm that she was experiencing what he was with the way her fur bristled and stood on end and her body pressed into his seeking comfort and security. He could tell by the panicked look in her green-blue eyes that she was hearing things as well. Was she hearing his mother too—or something else entirely? Despite the cold and the overwhelming urge to lower his ears, Artorias kept them pricked up and alert, desperately trying to catch every sound around them. He felt Briar shiver and curled his body closer to hers, letting her use his warmth to stave off the chill of the wind. Wide amber eyes gazed through the sea of fireflies in all directions, trying to find where the wind and the voice were coming from. None of this made any sense, but Artorias felt paralyzed in place, like he couldn't leave yet. Not until he found some answers.

"How could you, Artorias...? Murdering that innocent girl..."

Artorias' blood turned to ice in his veins. Murder?! No, no he hadn't killed anyone! He'd made a mistake giving into his urges on Fenmyre, but he had made sure the slave girl hadn't been hurt badly, was being tended to by medics, was alive! He'd fucked up, but he'd done everything he could to rectify the harm he'd caused! Artorias' heart began to race in his chest, a chill rising from within his core that made him tremble—whether it was from emotion or fright couldn't be discerned. "No... I swear, I didn't..." Artorias' whispered words drifted off into nothingness. His mother's chastising tone cut through his soul. How? How could the ghosts know of his deepest guilt? It was like the spirits were preying on his insecurities, his doubts, his guilts. The worst part? It was working.

The young brute barely even registered Briar nudging him and pleading him to head back inside, he was so wrapped up in his own head. The wind picked up again, whipping around the wolves like a gale, and with it came another voice. This time, the voice was clearer than ever, its anger and disgust evident in its scathing tones. It rang so lucid in his ears that he felt like he were having a face to face conversation with Resin once more, just like when he had been a puppy. But instead of warmth and love, the voice of his mother was filled with disappointment and frigidity.

"You are no son of mine... You aren't worthy to carry my name..."

Artorias' head was spinning while his heart cracked. Hearing those words spoken in Resin's voice did more to damage his confidence and feed his guilt and doubts than a hundred failures ever could. He stumbled backwards when Briar nudged him in the direction of the castle again, unable to tear his eyes away from where the wind was blowing. This couldn't be real. It couldn't be! This was a trick. A ruse by some... thing. Something had to be using his mother's likeness to try to hurt him. And while that terrified the young wolf to consider, it also angered him. How dare something mimic and make a mockery of his mother like that! "No, you're wrong!" he called back into the wind, holding his ground while amber eyes narrowed with determination. "I am Artorias Carpathius, Aegis of the Hallows, and I will not be scared away by a phantom that dares to desecrate my mother's memory."

Gently shrugging off Briar's nudges, Artorias strode past Briar, placing himself between where the wind came from and his girlfriend, facing out into the fireflies, the mist, and the darkness. Just one wolf, unwavering against the night. "If you want to talk to me about my faults and flaws, come face me and talk. I won't be scared away," he called into the void. Artorias stood resolute, breathing strong and steady while his pulse raced, scanning the dark for any signs of movement. Then he waited for a response.

"Artorias Carpathius"