Where You Come From

During the short trek from the gardens back to the castle, Artorias kept stealing small glances back to Daphne, making small talk to fill the silence and checking to see if any of the sights or smells that should have been familiar to her jogged any dead bells in her memory. Her affliction was concerning to the young wolf to say the least. He knew nothing about memory and brains or how they worked or if they could be fixed—but he did know that firefly demon well enough to know that it wasn’t something you wanted to fuck with. He’d nearly lost his sight permanently to it. But where his sight had returned, Daphne’s curse seemed a tad more permanent. Would they be able to recover her memories, or was she destined to start her life over from now?

Regardless, Artorias was just happy to have her home again. Whether she had to start over anew or they could help her find herself, he knew their family would stick together. Art led the way through the gatehouse and into the castle courtyard, crossing the gardens of wildflowers, ivies, and wisteria trees to the far terrace and front doors of the grand castle. "This is where we live," he explained to Daphne while leading the way through the main doors to the foyer. "Welcome home, Daphne."

Turning left down the corridor, Artorias led Daphne into the great hall—the same hall where they’d received their family name from Resin during their first Feast of Gratitude. As was Hallows tradition, Artorias always kept a fire burning in the grand hearth, warming the hall comfortably. "Have a seat anywhere. I’ll fetch you some food and call the others." Heading for the kitchen, Artorias have a soft call for their family to come to the hall. Tamsyn would want to see her prodigal daughter, no doubt, and the rest of their siblings would also be in for a surprise when they arrived.

"Artorias Carpathius" | "Carpathian" | "Corbin" | "Argent"