En Garde!

As the two wolves walked and talked, Artorias listened in empathetic silence while Mercury answered his question with heartfelt honesty. Artorias did indeed recall Mercury's history and how the seafaring prince had come to be in Boreas. The austerity of the tragic loss was not lost on the Aegis, but rather than cause him to feel pity for his Vanguard, instead it inspired him to awe at what Mercury had risen to overcome. The Hallows was built as a place of sanctuary where wolves could build and cultivate their best selves, to rise to greater levels in spite of their setbacks, losses, or downfalls. What better story to exemplify those ideals than Mercury's? Artorias was touched by the Ermís man's dedication and vow of loyalty, an appreciative smile on his lips while he tipped his head to his friend. "Hopefully it never comes to that, but I appreciate the sentiment more than you know, my friend," he replied with a husky chuckle in his voice. "It makes my heart happy to know that this has become a home for you now. It's all I've ever wanted of my wolves." A simple wish, but one the Aegis strove to achieve every single day.

Leading Mercury around the castle wings and across the Great Hall to the armory, Artorias pushed open the heavy door and stepped inside, the room warm and illuminated by the ever-burning forge at the heart of the armory. He slipped off his training sword, then passed it to Mercury. "Would you mind putting these back up on the rack for me, Merc?" he asked. Then, while the dark-furred male was busy putting up their sparring swords, Art surreptitiously slipped to the locked vault at the back, unlatching the door and stepping inside while Mercury's back was turned to him. Moving through the small room of valuable weapons, he picked out what he was looking for and lifted it from its stand. Artorias had a surprise in store for his friend.

When Mercury would turn back around, he would find the Aegis approaching from the vault, a sheathed sword clutched with reverence in his jaws. Artorias brought the sword up to Mercury then laid it out on a nearby workbench for his Vanguard to inspect. The weapon was a unique shape: mostly straight, with a slight curve near the end of the blade that tapered into its point. The hilt was wrapped in midnight black leather, and the curved crossguard was made from dark ebony and inlaid with a trail of small sapphire stones, the rich deep blue almost a perfect match for Mercury's eyes. When it was unsheathed, a pristine black steel blade would be revealed, shining with the characteristic ripples of Carpathian steel and inlaid with vermeil streaks of silver that ran down the length of the blade like droplets of water. Artorias placed a paw upon the falchion and slid it closer to Mercury with unabashed pride in his countenance and a smile upon his lips. "If you're willing to lay down your life to protect my family and our pack, then it's only right that I give you a means of doing so that fits your valor." Art removed his paw from the weapon, gesturing for Mercury to draw it and lay eyes upon his new blade. "This is yours now, Mercury. A token of my gratitude for the devotion you've shown me and my family. Treat it well and it will never fail you."

"Artorias Carpathius" | "Carpathian"