Sharpen the Steel

Fern looks from the sword to Artorias, wistfully wishing that this was her weapon. The gray girl knows that, when Art determines her ready, he will allow her to have a sword. A smile is on her lips as she speaks about it, deeming it ready for combat. Ocean-hued eyes turn up to the Aegis’s fiery gaze, hoping she has made a good assessment. Art agrees with her and the smile on her light lips grows only to fall a moment later as Art finishes his sentence. Eyes round with wonder and look to steel broadsword, the green leather of its hilt glistening in armory light. Mouth pumps a few times as she looks at the weapon before turning back to the Aegis. The corners of mouth ticking upward as words fail her.

The gray girl looks to her mentor with glittering, joy-filled eyes as Artorias goes on to praise her, Fern’s chest filling with pride and happiness. He turns the hilt to her and lays a matching hunter green leather scabbard beside her sword. Her sword. Fern’s eyes linger on the weapon, lifting a paw to green leather of the hilt. Turning her gaze back to Art, the gray girl offers him a beaming smile as she says, “I won’t let you down Art.” Picking up the wooden training sword, Fern lays it on the table, letting her paw linger on it for a moment before moving over to touch her sword. Paw resting on the hilt, she casts a glance toward Artorias and says, “I once heard all great swords have a name. I… want to give mine one too.”

Clearing her throat in a sudden fit of nervousness, Fern once more looks at the shinning steel that is now her’s to care for. After a moment, she says, “Lark’s Song. I… I think I’ll call it Lark’s Song. Is that a good name?” Ocean-hued eyes turn to her mentor for confirmation as a smile slowly grows on her lips.


"Fern Lark"