Sharpen the Steel

Artorias had been expecting some degree of surprise or amazement from his apprentice when he revealed to her that this was her sword now and that she was moving on to her next phase of training, but the look of shock on Fern's face had been even greater than he imagined! The way her mouth hung open and closed like a fish as she scrambled to try to say anything at all, her eyes moving from sword to him back and forth as she comprehended what was going on, and then that joyful look in her eyes as she computed what he was saying. It was a moment of great pride for the teacher to see his pupil succeed and he was eager to see how she progressed with the rest of her training. In time, she would become a master of the art of swordsmanship as well, of this there was no doubt. But more importantly, her success and skill was a testament to Artorias—a testament that his family's beliefs, his beliefs, and his art were worth buying into and passing on to others.

Fern returns her training sword to him with a bit of trepidation. Artorias understood; when he stashed away the wooden sword Outlaw had given him as a pup and graduated to real steel, it had been a bittersweet moment for him as well. A crossing of a threshold; an outgrowing of the past and into the present. Fern vowed that she wouldn't let him down, and Art responded with a simple nod. "I know you won't." Then she mentioned hearing that all great swords had names and wanted to give hers one too. He smiled and gestured with a paw for her to go ahead. He watched patiently while she looked to her blade and christened it Lark's Song. A fitting name, and one she'd be able to pass down to her future generations with a story behind it.

"A fine name," he stated, then shifted his sword across the table so it was beside hers, both blades shining in the firelight. "Lark's Song and Embershard. May they guard the realms of wolves and Hallowed lands for centuries to come. May they always be wielded by their rightful masters and strike with righteous fury." Their sappy moment concluded, Artorias gathered up Embershard and slipped it back into its black leather scabbard before slinging it over his back, then began to stow away the materials they'd been using. "You have free access to the blacksmith and armory whenever you wish to maintain your sword, Fern. You're responsible for it from here on out. If you have questions or need advice, you can come to me anytime. We'll use our proper swords in our trainings from here on out, so get used to its heft. Learn to make it a part of your body as much as your legs or your tail are." With that, Artorias headed for the door, motioning for Fern to join him and go about her day or remain in the armory a bit longer if she wished.

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