with shortness of breath, i’ll explain the infinite

Have you ever had a moment where something felt terribly wrong, but you just couldn't place your finger on it? A dreadful lingering sense that everything was not okay without an obvious cause? That had been Artorias' previous night. Heading to bed that evening, the Lord of Cinder just couldn't shake the sensation that something was wrong. Like a gnawing in the pit of his stomach, he just knew. Call it intuition or instinct, but it kept him on the edge of anxiety all night. Even after one last patrol around Hearthstone to make sure everything was safe and sound and everyone was accounted for, his worries were not assuaged. In the end, he chalked it up to his mind playing tricks on him, and the Carpathian king went to bed assuming everything was as it should be.

Oh, how wrong he had been...

There was no way for a mortal to know when the angel of death was scheduled to visit a loved one. Laeta's illness had been a long one, a never-ending trail of strength and fortitude that could only ever have one conclusion. But it was not something he would ever have been ready for. The morning brought with it the rare golden rays of light bursting through the winter clouds, casting Hearthstone in an almost ethereal glow in the early morning. Artorias rose and began his usual morning routines, preparing for his dawn patrol before the rest of the pack was awake. But still, that nagging feeling of dread lingered in his heart, and try as he might, he could not shake it. One more round to the rooms to be sure... he decided to reassure himself. One by one, the Lord of Cinder peeked into each room, making sure his children and family were well, and one by one, their safety brought him some comfort. He was just beginning to think he was imagining things and worrying himself over nothing...

And then he reached Laeta's room...

The stillness and quiet in the corridor approaching her door felt ominously oppressive, like a dark force had been through in the night. His heart tightened in his chest as he neared the door and heard nothing within. Amber eyes widened, breath shortened as a giant paw quietly lifted the latch and pushed open the door, not wanting to disturb her rest. The inside of the bedroom that once had felt like a home now felt like a tomb. It was silent inside, without even a crackle of smoldering embers in the fire. That was wrong; Mel wouldn't have allowed Laeta to go without warmth for even a minute. With great trepidation, Artorias pushed the door open with a soft creak of wood and metal, revealing more of the lifeless room. He stepped inside, each movement slow as he peered around to find his friends. The sight his eyes landed upon stopped his heart.

Laeta was in bed, as she should be, with Mel curled up into her, the pair as inseparable as ever. Neither of them moved, neither responded to his presence or to the rays of gilded light that flowed over them, illuminating their bodies like angelic beings. Artorias didn't need to go check them to know they had both passed on. The wolf's breath caught in his throat, choking him with emotion as it threatened to cripple him on the spot. His body slumped, collapsing back to his haunches as his heart sank into his stomach. He knew Laeta had been in bad shape, he knew she didn't have much time with them left, but nothing could have prepared him for the emotional gut punch her death would actually deliver to him. Laeta, his dear friend, his confidant, the first wolf he had ever brought into the Hallows as Aegis, was gone...

Tears flowed from fire-toned eyes as Artorias remained frozen in place, unable to look away, unable to move, unable to breathe. Loss never was an easy thing to deal with, especially not for him, and with her death now he had lost two wolves as close to him as kin. The tears burned like fire as they cut down his cheeks, glowing their faint blue light as they hit the stone floor. Eventually he was able to rise again, and Art stumbled his way over to the bed. She looked so peaceful, so happy and free of pain. His heart couldn't help but be relieved for her, despite being broken to a thousand pieces. And Mel... dear, sweet Mel, he had stayed with her even in death, her loyal companion forever and always. Resting his head on the bed beside his friend in her eternal slumber, Artorias regarded her still gray-furred face with a wistful remembrance. Gods, how it felt like an eternity ago she had appeared at their border, half-starved, a scraggly loner lacking any sort of confidence or hope in her future. How brightly she had shone in the Hallows; how mighty she had grown like an oak from an acorn. If there was ever a case to prove that the work the Hallows did was worthwhile, to Artorias it had been Laeta.

Artorias sniffled through a few more tears, letting the sobs shake his body quietly as glowing tears fell from amber eyes down to the undisturbed bedspread. Laeta had deserved so much better than what she got, a pure and benevolent soul cut down far too soon by a creature he swore he would someday repay for this cruelty. The only solace that came to the once-Aegis was the gentle smile that remained on his friend's still features. He knew if she was here right now, she'd tell him that it was okay to grieve and that death was a natural part of life. But just because it was inevitable didn't make the pain of loss any easier. Artorias swallowed thickly, lifting an azure paw to gently stroke Lae's forehead. She would feel no more pain, suffer no more in her illness. He would have to find peace in that. "Thank you for all the light you brought to us, Laeta. You can sleep easy now," he whispered to his dear friend, hoping she could hear him wherever her spirit ventured to next. "Ne revedem într-o zi în curând. Aleargă liber, prietene." Moving his paw to rest over Mel's side, he spoke in reverence to the badger, "Look after her, Sir Mel. Keep her out of trouble."

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