Goodnight, goodnight

There was stillness all throughout Hearthstone. Quiet, somber silence in the pre-dawn hours of the cold winter night. The residents of the castle tucked up snug and warm in their beds. All but one, who would never wake again...

Waking from slumber, Artorias felt... off. Something instinctual in his heart that not everything was right. He couldn't place it, he couldn't explain it away. Rising from beneath the covers, careful to not disturb his sleeping wife or pups as he began his daily routine. Up before dawn to do his stretches and meditation, then his patrol. Nothing about his preparations was any different, yet that unease never left him. The Lord of Cinder picked up Embershard in his jaws and carried it with him as he stepped out into the hall, quiet as could be. The world was still dark and quiet. He didn't wish to disturb anyone. A sentiment that had been shared by another all too recently.

As soon as he was out of the bedroom, he gingerly closed the door and turned—only to bump something on the ground with his paws. Taken a bit by surprise, Artorias blinked down at the items laid just outside his bedroom door. An iridescent seashell and a woven crown of thorn, vine, and flowers. What? The question repeated in the Lord of Cinder's mind as he carefully picked up the crown in his paw, turning it over to look it over. Where had these come from? The craftsmanship was exquisite and intricate, done by someone with years of experience. But who...? Amber eyes moved from the crown to the shell. Then they slowly peered down the empty corridor. Even in the dark, Artorias' improved eyes picked out the bundles of flowers left at each door. Flower arrangements he recognized from other Hallows events.

Artorias' eyes widened as realization dawned on him. A clatter of steel on stone as he dropped his sword to the ground, and then Artorias was running down the corridor, blowing right past Bishop as Bowen's raven tried to get his attention. He raced up the stairs to the third floor and then hurried down the east wing to reach Sota's room at the very end. Each room he passed, Artorias felt his heart sink more and more when he saw the gifts left in front of each of them. They screamed of finality that filled his heart with dread. He didn't even notice Bowen's scent in the hallway until he was at Sota's door. Unlike Bowen, Artorias didn't knock. He'd apologize to the little wolf if he was wrong, but he couldn't wait. Art pushed the bedroom door open. Then he froze in the doorway.

There lay Sota in his bed, still and unmoving, and Bowen at his side, weeping and holding Kaito to her chest. The lemur was also crying and making soft, heartbroken sounds. For a long moment Artorias just stood in the doorway, staring at the scene before him. His heart broke, wrenched, then broke again as reality crashed into him. Tears brimmed in amber eyes as he met Bowen's glassy gaze and he understood. Slow strides brought the large wolf into the room and over to the bed. Art laid his front half across the bed beside where Sota lay, opposite of Bowen so their friend was surrounded by wolves who loved him. It didn't feel real. Nothing felt right or real about this. But as Artorias reached a paw over to stroke across Sota's beautiful black and white fur and he felt the cool stillness of his dear friend's body, there could be no denying reality. Sota had passed on.

"Oh, Sota..." Artorias' voice was filled with reverence and wavered with a profound sorrow as he spoke his departed friend's name. He leaned over Sota's body to cradle the small brute in his arms, nuzzling the back of his neck with fraternal love. Sota had been a part of his life since the day his litter had been born. A founding member of the Hallows. A friend and brother to them all. An uncle to his children. It felt like ice had been stabbed into his heart as Artorias held onto Sota, glowing teal tears spilling from the Lord of Cinder's eyes to dampen his cheeks. "You've always been a treasure to us all, my friend. You made all our lives an adventure. Thank you for everything." Artorias choked out his whispered words between body-racking sobs, breath stuttering while he tried to keep himself steady when all he wanted to do was to fall apart. "Fugi liber, frate. Fie ca tu să găsești noi aventuri pentru totdeauna. Te iubim atât de mult."

As Artorias and Bowen wept and held their dear friend, outside the morning sun was beginning to crest over the eastern horizon. Golden rays of dawn sunlight spilled across the land, melting away the frost from the window to bathe the final expression of Sota in brilliant light, as if the sun itself was beckoning him home and on to his next adventure.

"Artorias Carpathius" | "Carpathian"