Heavy Lies the Crown

The fog was thick, and walking through it didn't feel normal. It felt like he was traversing through a miasma into another realm entirely. The deeper he pushed, the less he saw, until white mist had completely engulfed his vision. There was a sudden chill to the air, and then something crunched beneath his paw. Artorias glanced down to see a desiccated leaf shattered beneath his foot, like one would find at the end of autumn passing into the birth of winter. Confused, Artorias looked up again and saw the fog dissipating, melting away with each step he took. A few more and the young Carpathian man found himself standing in a mountainous terrain, surrounded by rising peaks of gray stone. The ground was dry and the grasses crisp and frosted over. What trees were in the area looked like they were caught in an eternal autumn, with browned leaves falling with every gust that rippled through the land. Yet around their bases, and across all the land for that matter, piles of dead leaves had gathered like sand dunes in a desert.

Artorias gazed around the unfamiliar land for a moment, amber eyes drinking in the hard and unforgiving territory he found himself in. There was no life anywhere as far as he could see—no birds in the trees or sky, no insects or prey animals of any kind. The only sign of life came before him, standing on top of a large frozen lake. He recognized the ash gray woman before he even began to approach, and the realization of who he was looking at made his heart wrench in his chest. Artorias took a step out onto the ice, ignoring the biting cold on his paw pads while he approached Resin, mouth hung slightly ajar in disbelief. When he got close enough to see her features, that was when Artorias knew things weren't as they seemed. His mother's face shifted and distorted, like a photograph attempting to be exposed, but not quite getting it right. Eventually her face did settle, and Artorias found himself staring back into the single golden eye of his scarred mother.

"Mom..." Artorias said between quiet breaths, still trying to grasp what he was experiencing. "Is this a dream? Where are we?" Artorias gazed around at the mountains surrounding them again, particularly the giant one behind her. Returning his gaze to his mother, whom he now stood just taller than, he furrowed his brows in confusion. This didn't feel like any sort of dream he'd had before. But that left only one other alternative... "Am I..." Artorias swallowed hard. "...Am I dead?" Artorias knew many wolves died peacefully in their sleep. He hadn't been expecting for his own end to come quite so soon though. But if he wasn't dead, then why was he here?

Artorias collected himself after a moment of bewilderment, forcing down his emotions to think clearly. "Mom, I... I miss you. And I love you. I guess I just want to say that first, in case I don't get the chance to again." Resin had returned to their family for a very brief period back during the Long Night, almost a year ago. When she had, he had been so fraught with trying to keep the Hallows safe that he hadn't gotten to say the things he'd wanted to say to her when he had the chance. The second time in his life when he'd missed the opportunity to speak his heart to his mother. "I want you to know that I'm doing the best I can as Aegis to keep your dream of the Hallows alive." Amber eyes darkened slightly, and Artorias shifted his gaze down away from Resin's to their paws on the ice. "I just... sometimes... How did you do it, Mom? How did you lead and keep all of your wolves happy and cared for? No matter what I try... it just doesn't seem enough to matter."

Artorias thought about Bowen, about her manic episodes and her crushing depression. He thought about all the pain and trauma he'd had to lead through. Resin had made it seem so seamless while he felt like he was only just managing. Was he just bad at being Aegis? He knew he couldn't save the world, but when he couldn't even save Bowen, what good was he? Even Ulric hadn't seemed to have as much trouble as he did. It was hard not to feel a little self-deprecation when he compared himself to his predecessors.

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