When the two of them arrived at their destination. Artorias's eyes widened when he raised his head from the hood of his cloak and saw what was standing before him. The guards who were guarding the iron gates of the path leading to the manor opened the gates and saluted their lord.
When they neared the manor, his eyes widened even further. He had expected something exquisite after hearing how this stranger was addressed—perhaps a mansion, maybe a large one—but this? This was a palace in its own right.
The manor stood proudly against the night sky, a masterpiece of white marble and intricate stone carving that seemed to glow under the moonlight. It was not a fortress like the prison or the castle of the lord of his homeland; it was something delicate, excessive, and overwhelmingly beautiful.
The façade was covered in elaborate reliefs of flowers, shells, and vines carved directly into the stone. These reliefs gave the building a sense of lifelike movement. Winding staircases led to a magnificent entrance flanked by a fountain that stood silently in the darkness.
The stranger's voice shook him from his daze."Enjoying the architectural beauty? Let's get going and you can see what it contains inside," he said with slight sarcasm and an encouragement to hurry, as he hopped off his horse and held out his hand for Artorias to help him down.
Artorias regained his senses, took the offered hand, and carefully got off the horse. Once he stood on the ground, the stranger released his hand and began walking toward the elegant doors of the manor, where the servants opened them for him.
As Artorias entered, he felt overwhelmed by the luxurious atmosphere. Inside, the manor was even more breathtaking.
A grand hall opened before them, illuminated by a massive crystal chandelier that hung from a ceiling painted with scenes of gods and heroes of old. The floors were polished parquet, covered with thick crimson carpets that silenced their footsteps. Tall mirrors with gilded frames lined both sides of the hall, reflecting Artorias's ragged, cloaked form making him look like a stain upon this beautiful canvas.
He felt nervous being here, not because of the luxury surrounding him, but because of what awaited him behind this illusion the stranger had brought him into.
An unknown voice, sounding like that of an old man, startled him as he followed the direction the stranger was looking.
A tall, elderly man with graying hair and a stiff posture approached. He wore a monocle and a tailcoat that looked more expensive than anything Artorias had ever touched.
"Young Lord," the butler said, bowing slightly. "I knew you were going for something important, but I did not know you were bringing a guest when you said, and I quote: 'I am going out for an important meeting, don't wait for me.'"
The stranger replied in a soft, apologetic tone, "My apologies, Eligius. Everything happened in such an unexpectedly short amount of time that I completely forgot to inform you about where I was going or rather whom I was meeting."
The elegant old man let out a soft sigh. He looked at him with slight disappointment."No matter, my Lord. Let me take care of your guest while you get rid of those wet and mud-stained clothes. He clearly needs my care more than you do."
The stranger nodded without objection and turned to Artorias."You can ease your mind and let Eligius take care of your needs. I will be in the parlour. Come once you are rested enough."
With that, he walked away. Artorias watched his silhouette disappear, likely heading toward his personal chambers.
Once the stranger was gone, the old man turned to Artorias with a stern expression."Dear guest of young Lord Petasius, I understand you were out there doing who knows what before our Lord brought you here, but the way you dress is unacceptable in the estate of a noble house. Follow me. I will lead you to one of the rooms we keep ready for guests, though none have ever arrived unannounced before."
He walked toward the stairs. He was clearly still annoyed by this unexpected guest's sudden arrival but could not express it further.
As they climbed the stairs and walked through the lit corridors, the old man did not look back once. After two floors and a stretch down a corridor, he finally stopped before a beautiful door made of oak, decorated with golden flowers. He reached for the golden doorknob, shining under the corridor lights, and opened it.
An unbelievable sight welcomed Artorias, a sight he never thought he would see again. A bed. A proper bed. A four-poster bed stood before him.
Eligius finally turned to him and said, "This will be your temporary chambers. You may use the clothes in the wardrobe." His gaze fell on Artorias's cloak and the visible bump of his sword's pommel. "You may leave your belongings under my care, honorable guest. They will be safe and sound, I assure you." His tone made it clear he did not want those dirty belongings to touch the room, or any part of the manor.
After a moment of hesitation, Artorias removed his cloak and handed over his handmade pouch, bottle, and knife. When his hand touched his sword, he froze.
I know I agreed to that stranger, came here after him, and let him lead me wherever he wished, but giving away my only weapon of protection makes me feel uneasy… so vulnerable, once again… But then again, he could have simply given me to the city watch and taken the credit. Or perhaps he is creating a safe atmosphere, showing me fake kindness and illusions of revenge to distract me. After all, he went to his room, and now this old man is asking me to give away everything I have. Why… why do I feel so vulnerable after following him this far willingly?
His thoughts were interrupted by the old man, who was growing impatient."Dear guest, you aren't planning to keep your sword while cleaning your body, are you? I must say, that would be a first under this roof."
Artorias startled and stuttered, "I-I am sorry, Eligius! This… I know this is rude of me after the kindness you and your Lord have shown me… I just…"
Noticing his expression, the old man sighed and spoke in a slightly irritated but softer tone."Young man, if I may make a deduction, judging by your unexpected late arrival, I assume you and the young Lord have not known each other long. Correct? I do not know what you fear, but your fear has led you to follow my Lord, whom you have only recently met."
Artorias nodded hesitantly.
The old man continued, "And your uneasy expression and constant guardedness tell me you are afraid. I do not know of what, but I assure you: we are not showing you hospitality with any intention of deception. The young Lord has never been one to deceive someone in need. And if words are not enough, then you may keep the sword if it helps you feel safer."
After hearing this, Artorias took a moment to decide. After a few seconds, he nodded and handed his sword over.
The old man accepted it."I thank you, young guest. You may feel at ease now. Take your time in your bath. I will attend to the young Lord in the meantime. I have appointed a maid for your needs, she will be waiting for you while you bathe."
After hearing no objection, the old man left the room and closed the door behind him. Looking at the sword in his hand, he frowned."What barbaric craftsmanship. This repulsive weapon couldn't even penetrate the armor of the noble knights of House Petasius," he muttered with disgust. Then he sighed, his face softening. "At the very least, our young guest has begun to feel less uneasy… Now, to the young Lord's room, who brought this filthy, scared boy here without even warning me."
He spoke in a frustrated, scolding tone as he walked toward the stairs and disappeared.
Left alone, Artorias let out a sigh of relief and looked around the beautifully decorated room. It was vast, dim, and smelled of expensive wax. The bed, with its silk sheets so white they looked like snow, seemed unreal.
He stared at the pillows, remembering the stone slab that had been his only comfort for a year. He did not know how to feel, was this another cage built from illusions of comfort and safety, or something else?
Regardless, he stared at the bed for a while, overwhelmed by the desire to sleep. He hadn't felt this longing since the first rays of this exhausting day hit his face in the morning. His eyelids grew heavier; sleep tempted him.
But he couldn't sleep yet. He needed to clean himself properly. The short bath in the pond earlier was not enough after a year of filth. He needed a proper bath, and he knew it.
So he sighed and made his way toward the baths, intent on cleaning himself and finally relaxing his exhausted body.