Et Stellas: Beyond Different Worlds

(Lucius; IV) A gift of faith

Arthur's head is filled with thoughts. Some are good, some are bad, but he knows deep inside now it's time to prepare a legacy. Not just his family legacy, but the Empire legacy.

He has just in front of him at his son, looking at his father with watchful eyes and ears ready to hear what he, the most important person of the whole Empire, is about to say.

Aurelius is not taller than him or broader neither, he's the exact living image of his father as many canines say, and that's what Arthur loves. He loves looking at his son with proud eyes every day, he loves his son's powerful will and concentration, his vision, and his thinking.

He loves his son.

"My son, we must be aware that anything can happen once in Arcus" Arthur slowly states.

Aurelius forms a smile with empathy, calmly taking one paw to the low part of his back while the other does the gesticulation job in the company of his words "Father, I already took the job to choose the best and trustful warriors from all the Empire. They won't even sleep if they have to".

Arthur giggles, dropping the look to the floor that's feeling warmer than ever. He's about to part of one of his most important and precious objects. The sword that he's holding was the same sword his father, and all his ancestors, had in their possession, but the sword has much more meaning for him.

Not because he fought with it in the big war or because it's the so-called 'best'  in the entire Empire, but because it was the last gift from his father.

He hates to remember things from the past he should already forget, but he can't help it. Everything comes back to his mind and hits much more every time, the image of his father sleeping on his mattress, a dream that he won't ever wake up, the piercing whimpers of his mother, the whining of the servants; Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, today is a gift but what gift you can receive if you live in the past? If your mind brings every memory back making you live where you wish not to, making you feel scared to live with the anxiety that it's going to happen the same to you. Is that the gift you want for the present?

But then is his Son.

His, much younger, exactly living image. His only son is his most precious possession. He won't ever forgive himself if the last words his son would hear would be 'Take my sword, forge an Empire, and reign on it—' just like his father did to him.

"My son, you're soon to be an Emperor and I think it's time for you to have this" He scoops, slowly showing Aurelius his valuable sword, raising it to let the darling rays of sunlight hit with the perfectly made blade, making it shine like a torch with a sparkling sensation.

It's a big sword, a little heavier than the usual ones, with a shiny dark red pommel, and has the phrase «Everything we hear is an opinion, not a fact. Everything we see is a perspective, not the truth _Marcus Aurelius» written on the hard dull silver-red blade.

Aurelius takes it and examines every little crevice in the sword, its sharp point, the sour-dark marks that penetrate the steel of the blade, and the marks on the pommel. If only the sword could speak, it would never stop saying wonders, Aurelius quietly thinks.

Since a long time ago, Arthur has been telling the stories and hard situations that The Emperor's sword has passed through, to his family most specifically. Aurelius laid on the grass of a small zone, with a small tree and a small fountain that makes it perfect for meditating or praying, while his father relates story by story, a hand at the top of his son's head. 

And, of course, his son never stopped insisting about the day to finally have it in his own paws, so Arthur's first step for preparation, besides the years and years of training in many tactics of fighting, was giving him a big belt.

He thought, one day when he saw his son running around the Emperor's room swinging a small wooden sword senseless in the air claiming that he has practiced, that giving him the sword's belt would be a good motivation.

The belt was even bigger than young Aurelius himself.

But the father had already projected his son's future as an emperor, "The sword will be a gift, but you will have to wait-

The most powerful characteristic of a warrior are patience and time" And that's something Arthur took good care to teach to his offspring.

Aurelius finishes tying the already gifted belt on his waist and puts the sword on the scabbard. He's not excited about the sword because he knew he was going to have it one day, but he didn't except this day.

"That sword is made with the best materials of the entire Empire! We can say it's the best sword ever made" Says Arthur shaking softly his son's shoulder. 

Aurelius just chuckles "Yeah, I heard that from, literally, everybody".

And with a big huff from the Emperor and a long sign with one of his paws, Arthur quietly orders, "Now, move on . . . It's a long travel" before making his way out of the room, Aurelius following right on his tail.

As the loyal dogs make their way to the entrance of the palace, before starting their long trip, there are, already waiting, troops of canines.

The two large and organized lines are something that could easily catch anyone's glaze if it's seen from a far distance. Long long line of warriors, some carrying big backpacks with food and clothes that they might need, others with spears on their paws and shields on their backs, and others carrying the big flag with the sign of the Empire in the middle.

Arthur stops at the lead of the army and starts looking around. "The troops are ready, My Lord" He hears, the familiar voice of his closest warrior, that's right on his side.

"Good, Castro. Now, make the sign, Commodus must be waiting" Says Arthur, turning around, facing South, where the felines Empire is.

On the other hand, Castro makes a sigh with his entire paw, with the company of a big howl, to the troops that are ready and to go. 

Seconds later, the big clamor of the wolf troops and the sound of their coordinated stomps are heard by almost the entire Empire. The Emperor and his Son on the lead, Castro behind them and the organized troops behind.