WHAT IS LEFT WHEN THE WAR IS OVER —

Few may look upon the life they had lead, each step leading to an end written within blood, and think a good person of the lion, crafted to kill and barely tamed by those who held their chains. A monster to many and to some few a brother, a force none might stand up to without the threat of their own demise hanging above their head, an axe simply waiting to swing, yet it seemed a far cry from who Art had become.

Growing comfortable within this steady, if slow and easy life, they had found a routine, familiar and enough to keep them going, but a ghost of what once had been.  Something was lacking, however, distant from all around them Atreus had found few they sought to speak with nor whose company they found enjoyable for more than minutes, one exception found in Margaery. They had long since buried the homesickness which had plagued their heart and mind, faint whispers now upon the edge of thought when silence found them, yet the desire for conversation, for simple routine to be broken and the monotony of life to give way for something more could not be silenced so easily. It did not matter who they sought, nor the tasks they set, it all seemed to pale in comparison to the few memories they held of brothers they had once laughed with, had known the intense threads which made up their very soul, gone now as age or steel took them.

A sigh broke past their clenched teeth, eyes squeezing shut as they attempted to push the thoughts aside. Time enough for that later and they had no desire to  uncover memories best left in the shadows, setting their attention upon the items before them. Having filled their satchel with a few apples and oranges they had been lucky in their search for something interesting, a rather old star chart and a newer one set before them. Somewhat off the time they had lived the star chart was well made though it had seen better days, the edges curling and the paper becoming brown. Set carefully aside Art prepared the newer, forcing themself to think only of the task at hand, curious as to the changes within the pattern of stars after so many years.

( [member=138]THEA[/member] let's see if this works & i never realized she was a berserker while art is/was one as well, this will be interesting )

//Well, this Thea is mostly referred to as a beserker since the trance-like fury they can acheive in battle, and she acheives something similar, so she wasn't an actual beserker in her life, or any past ones. I thought it fit her, at least in the future

"What's that?" The cub was a bit smaller than the lion cub, and maybe it was because they were concentrating, maybe because they were lost in thought, or noticed, and didn't care, Thea didn't quite know, but either way, the young leopard managed to approach the older Ascendent with no signs of being noticed, admiring the old star map for a few moments, even if she didn't quite understand why it was necessary. Mapping stars required skill, sure, but not the skills Thea wanted, so, she held only a little interest in them.

And yet the bubbly cub was still there, the smile on her face.

Thea didn't understand what was wrong with killing, something Artreus probably experienced plenty, and felt all the emotions that came with taking a life; grief, guilt, sadness, despair, yet Thea had felt nothing whenever she did. Nothing but joy and pride, because she had won. And winning was all that mattered, right? Win, only with your skills and strength, and nobody else's.

It was a mistake her mother made while raising her, to not teach her killing was a horrible thing that ruined lives, and her mother had paid the price for it.

So really, at first, Artreus and Thea might seem a bit similar, but the way they reacted to taking a life was much different.