When Arthur and Ser Duncan returned to the Red Keep little did Arthur know that the true challenge was only to begin. Once inside the white walls of the tower, the days began to blur together, each one folding seamlessly into the next until weeks melted into months.
Arthur rose before dawn, pulled on his padded gambeson and mail while the stars still lingered outside his narrow window, and met Duncan in the yard where he would first do the iron mile after which he spend hours drilling footwork, shield work, and sword forms until his arms burned and his legs trembled, then moved straight into guarding posts along the corridors or running messages across the keep.
When Duncan was occupied with council duties, Arthur found himself in the library, surrounded by shelves of leather-bound tomes that smelled of dust and old parchment.
Duncan had explained it one evening as they sat in the tower hall after a long day. "A knight is his mind as much as he is his sword, Arthur. You can swing steel all you like, but without understanding the battles of the past you will never see the ones still to come. Study the histories. Learn how of Andals and the first men, of the cultures of the different kingdoms. It is a poor substitute for traveling the Seven Kingdoms yourself, but I do not have a spare twenty years to send you wandering the roads as I once did."
Arthur had accepted the task without complaint. He found the reading strangely rewarding. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, his intelligence grew, only by a few points. But it was still something and it made the information easier to read snd retain.
Sadly one part of his training he disliked more than the rest was etiquette. Duncan had been blunt about it. "If you are going to move among nobility, you must act like one. Otherwise you bring shame on whatever lord you serve and on yourself." But the lessons just felt endless.
How to address a lord properly.
When to bow and how deeply.
Which fork to use at formal dinners.
The precise angle of the head when listening to a lady speak.
It was not that Arthur found the rules difficult to memorize. It was simply hard to understand why some of them mattered so much. Thankfully he had unexpected help.
With Oxana and Steffon Baratheon and their mother gone back to Storm's End, Princess Rhaella suddenly had more free hours in her days. When she was not visiting Mira and Cassie at the orphanage, she gladly joined Arthur in the small library off the royal apartments for etiquette practice. She would sit across from him at the table, and guide him through conversations.
"Remember, Arthur, when greeting a lady of higher rank you hold the bow for a count of three and keep your eyes lowered until she speaks first," she said one afternoon, demonstrating with a graceful tilt of her head. "It shows respect without presumption. Now try again, and this time do not grip the edge of the table quite so tightly. You look like you are bracing for a charge."
Arthur relaxed his hands and repeated the motion, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Like this, Princess?"
"Better," she replied, eyes sparkling with amusement. "Much better. You are improving faster than most lords' sons I have seen. Soon you will be able to charm the entire court, though I hear quite a few of the ladies here are enthralled with you already."
Their sessions stretched longer each week, filled with laughter when he made mistakes and conversation when the lessons turned to stories of their childhood and families. The friendship between them grew and it grew to the point where they needed to hide how good a friends they were because of how inappropriate it would be.
Speaking of his family, the months brought visible changes to Mira and Cassie. Their bellies swelled gently at first, then more noticeably, rounding with the children growing inside them. Arthur felt a fierce mix of excitement and terror every time he visited the orphanage. He would kneel beside them on the bed, one hand resting lightly on each curve, and whisper promises to the children yet to be born.
Arthur had used part of the gold from the melee to buy several buildings surrounding the orphanage. A bakery now stood on the corner. Next to it a tanner worked leather for shoes and belts, and down the lane a smithy rang with the steady clang of hammer on anvil. The purchases had dented his earnings, especially the smithy, but the returns were already beginning to flow in.
The older children at the orphanage were learning trades, apprenticing under the masters, and Arthur had converted some of the empty houses into more bakery's or smithy's read for them to take over when they were fully trained. He had also hired six reliable guards to patrol the area and continue Jory's sword training whenever the boy asked. Flea Bottom was still dangerous, but knowing armed guards watched over his family let him sleep a little easier in the tower.
In between duties Arthur worked on his own abilities. More specifically two of them, his Hamon and his alchemy. Hamon came more naturally than the alchemy he tried to study. He discovered that the breathing technique was life itself. Beyond healing wounds it could coax plants to grow faster and richer.
To test this further every night for a full month he had slipped out to the orphanage garden after dark, knelt in the soil, and channeled the golden sparks through his palms into the earth. The results had astonished him. Cabbages grew twice their normal size, carrots sweeter and more plentiful, herbs bursting with potency. Everyone thought that the gods had blessed their garden when they saw it, only he knew the truth.
The only shadow over those months was the behavior of the two princes. Aerys had never been openly cruel, but his pride was still wounded from the rescue in the melee. He avoided Arthur when possible and offered only curt nods when they crossed paths. But Arthur could tell things were angling at him and soon he would say something.
Prince Duncan the Small was a different story. Him and his wife Jenny were outwardly kind, yet something in Duncan's gaze unsettled Arthur. Whenever Mira and Cassie visited the keep the prince's eyes lingered too long on them, tracing the swell of their bellies with an intensity that made Arthur's stomach tighten. He tried not to dwell on it, telling himself he was imagining things, but the suspicion remained like a splinter under the skin.
Months rolled on, and Arthur grew more like a knight with every passing day. His body hardened, his mind sharpened, and his skills deepened.
Yet every night the dreams came.
Sometimes they featured enormous raven creatures wheeling across storm-black skies. Sometimes a colossal stag with antlers like spears charged through burning fields.
But the constant thread through every nightmare was dragons.
The most recent dream seized him with terrifying clarity.
He stood inside a vast hall, its ceiling somehow lost in shadow. All around him dragons of every color and size stirred in their nests. A massive green beast with scales like emeralds stretched its wings and let out a low rumble that vibrated through the floor. Smaller ones, silver and bronze and cobalt, chirped and shifted restlessly.
Arthur tried to move but his feet were rooted. That was when a hiss filled the air, growing louder until it became a roar. Green fire erupted from the walls, racing along the stone in liquid sheets. It swallowed the smallest dragons first, their screams piercing as their wings caught and burned.
The great green beast reared up, roaring defiance, but the flames climbed its legs and engulfed its body in a roaring inferno. Scales blackened and curled. Flesh melted from bone. The entire hall became an ocean of green fire, the heat so intense Arthur felt his skin blister and peel. He screamed as the flames rushed toward him, swallowing him whole, burning through muscle and sinew until there was nothing left but agony and darkness.
_____________________________________
(8 Months Later)
Arthur woke screaming as he bolted upright in the narrow bed. Sweat soaked his tunic and plastered his hair to his forehead. His heart hammered against his ribs so hard he could feel it in his throat. He pressed both hands to his face, breathing hard through his fingers, trying to force the nightmare back into the shadows where it belonged.
The green flames still licked at the edges of his vision, the screams of dying dragons echoing in his ears as though the dream refused to release him completely.
He rubbed his face slowly as the room came back into focus, the simple stone walls, and the narrow window showing only the faintest hint of predawn. 'It was just a dream,' he told himself again, though the words felt hollow after so many nights of the same horror.
He pushed himself up from the thin mattress while stretching his stiff arms overhead and stifling a groan as his joints protested the sudden movement, he almost touched the ceiling while he stretched. His bare feet met the cold stones as he crossed the small chamber.
Over the past eight months the growth pills he had taken every so often had worked far beyond what he had expected. Where he had once stood at five foot nine he now towered at six foot five. He had paused the regimen months ago because his frame had started to look almost slender, the rapid lengthening outpacing the muscle he could build, he needed time for his body to fill out properly before deciding whether to continue. The height brought a strange mix of pride and concern. He liked the idea of standing eye to eye with giants like Ser Duncan, yet the drawbacks had shown themselves clearly enough.
While he stood at the water basin he poured from the ewer into the shallow bowl and splashed the cold liquid across his face and neck.
When he was on the pill he had noticed the strength dip not at first but gradually, a subtle lag when he swung a practice blade or hauled timber during the Iron Mile. Eventually the system had reflected it plainly in his stats, a permanent reduction that had worried him until relentless training brought the numbers back to their previous peak.
He could only guess the reason for this was because of the fact that different bodies carried different physical potentials, the rapid growth and height forced the system to recalibrate his actual strength. It seemed to be for the best in the end. Once the numbers went back to what they were he realized he was actually stronger overall.
He still did not fully understand how the system calculated such things, but he had learned to trust the process and adapt.
He sighed as he looked outside through the narrow window slit. The sky was just beginning to lighten, a soft grey band along the eastern horizon. "Better go down and feed them," he mumbled to himself, the words barely more than a breath in the quiet room. He turned away from the basin and began to dress, pulling on the padded gambeson first, then layering the chainmail and plate over it, followed by his boots and sword belt.
He stepped out of the White Sword Tower into the Red Keep, the stones still holding the chill of night beneath his boots. His first stop was the kitchens, where the staff were already there cooking the morning feast for the residents of the keep.
When he walked inside the staff greeted him with wide smiles, he had gotten to know them all since he'd arrived here. "Morning, Arthur," called one of the younger cooks, a rosy cheeked woman named Lanna who paused while kneading dough to brush flour from her apron. Her cheeks flushed a deeper pink as he smiled at her. "You are up early again. Hungry already?"
Arthur returned the smile while stepping into the warm space. "Not yet, but I never leave without saying hello. The bread smells wonderful as always. How is your mother's cough? Better with the honey and herbs I sent?"
Lanna's blush deepened and she laughed softly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Much better, thank you. She swears by that mixture now. You are too kind to remember such things." The other women in the kitchen glanced over with similar blushes, one of them giggling behind her hand while another offered him a fresh roll straight from the tray.
He accepted it with genuine thanks, exchanging a few more light words about the weather and the upcoming feast before the head cook, a stout woman named Marta with flour dusted arms, shooed him gently toward the door. "Off with you now, tall one," Marta said, though her eyes twinkled with affection. "You will eat us out of house and home if I let you linger. Take a few apples for those beasts of yours and be on your way before the head steward catches you charming my girls again."
Arthur laughed quietly and selected half a dozen crisp green apples from the basket she indicated, tucking them into a small sack at his belt. He thanked them all once more and stepped back into the corridor as he made his way to the stables.
He went first to Thunder as was his duty as a squire, Ser Duncan's great grey destrier, checking the big horse's legs and hooves before offering one of the apples. Thunder took it with a massive crunch, his warm breath brushing Arthur's palm while the squire stroked the thick neck and murmured praise.
Only after he was satisfied did he move to the next stall, the one reserved for his own mount.
A very pale horse stood there, coat the color of fresh milk with a mane and tail like flowing snow, she also had pale green eyes that almost seemed unnatural. She was as large as Thunder yet their personalities couldn't be different.
This was Quiet, the horse he had received as a reward from the quest in Littlestow all those months ago.
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[Quiet: The Pale Horse] (Unawakened)
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Description:
I looked, and behold a Pale Horse, and the name that sat on him was Death.
The Stranger
The Many Faced God
The Lion of the Night
The Black Goat
Many names and many faces, all the same. This is his horse that he uses to guide the souls of the living to the next world.
The abilities of this horse will remain unknown to you and will do so until certain requirements are met.
This horse will never tire and will never need food, however she enjoys green apples.
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At first he had been terrified of her, the ominous description and unnatural calm sent chills down his spine every time he approached. But after spending time around the mare he had realized she was simply calm and gentle, nothing she had ever done suggesting harm.
If anything she was the opposite, incredibly loyal and helpful, responding to his voice with what seemed to be the same intelligence of an actual person if not more. She had also proven an amazing mount, her smooth gait and unflappable nature helping his jousting skills improve by leaps and bounds during the few practice sessions he had managed.
Arthur stepped into the stall and offered her two apples. "Good morning, girl. I promised we would go riding together soon, and I mean to keep that promise. The roads will be quieter soon and we can take a proper run along the river. Would you like that?"
Quiet made a soft, contented noise deep in her throat and pushed her broad head gently into his chest, the coldness of her breath still sent shivers down him. But Arthur still stroked her neck, feeling the powerful muscles beneath the silky coat while he spoke to her. "You have been patient with me. I know the tower keeps me busy, but I have not forgotten you." He fed her a few more apples one by one, watching her eat, then gave her one last affectionate pat.
Before leaving he turned to the young stable boy who had just arrived with a bucket of water. "Brush her and Thunder later when the sun is fully up, and give them the rest of these apples I took from the kitchens. They both deserve a treat today."
The boy nodded eagerly. "Of course, ser. I will see to it right away."
Arthur flicked him a silver coin that flashed in the light before the boy caught it with a grateful grin. Satisfied, he left the stables and headed toward the royal apartments, the sky now brightening enough that the castle started to stir.
He had barely turned the corner when Llewyn emerged from the opposite direction. The Dornishman's face split into a familiar grin as soon as he spotted Arthur. "Well, well, if it is not the tallest squire in the Seven Kingdoms. You are up early even by your standards. Off to see that pretty wife of yours and her friend?" He emphasized the word friend with clear sarcasm, eyebrows waggling suggestively. "Or should I say the mothers of your soon to be born child? Many at the court are jealous of you my friend, though some see you as Aegon the Conqueror reborn."
It had become sort of an open secret at court that Arthur was seeing both romantic with Mira and Cassie due to the fact they were both pregnant at the same time and because no one had seen hide nor hair or the supposed father of Cassie's child. While some ladies looked at with disgust for fathering a bastard, Rhaella's influence had done a lot to protect her.
Arthur waved the teasing off with a chuckle, though he kept his voice light. "You have an imagination that could fill a dozen taverns with songs, Llewyn. Mira and Cassie are simply staying in the keep now because they are so close to giving birth. Rhaella insisted on having a maester close at hand, and I am grateful for it. Nothing more mysterious than that."
Llewyn clapped him on the shoulder while falling into step beside him. "If you say so, my friend. But I have eyes. And ears. The whole keep has been buzzing about those two swelling bellies. Still, I am happy for you. A man needs something soft to come home to after days like these."
They talked a little longer, the easy camaraderie of months spent together making the conversation flow naturally until they reached the corridor leading to the royal apartments. Arthur continued alone toward the rooms set aside for Mira and Cassie, which lay close to Rhaella's own chambers for convenience.
It was there he encountered Ser Duncan standing guard outside the princess's door. Arthur greeted him respectfully, inclining his head. "Lord Commander. I hope the night passed quietly for you."
Duncan nodded as he gave him a smile. "Quiet enough. Have you seen to Thunder yet this morning?"
Arthur nodded without hesitation. "I have. He is well fed and checked. Everything is in order."
"Good," Duncan said, lowering his voice slightly. "Because the King will be traveling today. Most of the royal family will be going to Harrenhal. Rhaella asked to remain behind due to your wife's condition being so close to birth, and the King accepted. Ser Gerold will be the only Kingsguard left with her, so it falls to you and Llewyn to assist him in protecting the princess while we are gone."
Arthur absorbed the sudden news with a small frown of confusion. "The King usually gives more warning for such journeys. Is everything well?"
Duncan looked uneasy for the briefest moment before answering. "The King decided yesterday. It was... sudden. But the decision is made. Go and see your wife now. You can relieve me here after you have spent a little time with her."
Arthur thanked him and continued down the corridor to the door where Mira and Cassie stayed together, his heart already lighter at the thought of seeing them both.
Arthur eased the latch downward and pushed the door inward on its hinges, which whispered open with nothing more than a faint sigh before he slipped inside and drew it shut again behind him with a barely audible click.
His gaze found them easily, and Arthur stood motionless in the doorway for several long moments, simply drinking in the sight... the love that surged through him was too vast and too tender to be rushed.
Mira and Cassie lay together in the center of the expansive canopied bed, their bodies naturally curved toward each other in the way they had grown so accustomed to. Rhaella had offered them separate chambers but they had chosen this shared space instead, explaining how the closeness eased the restless nights when their pregnancies made sleep elusive.
Now, Mira rested on her side with her blonde hair fanned across the silk pillow like gold, while Cassie nestled behind her, one arm draped protectively over the curve of Mira's form. Both wore thin, loose nightgowns of the finest linen, chosen specifically to accommodate the large, swollen bellies that now defined their silhouettes.
Mira's belly rose and fell with each slow breath, while Cassie's own rounded abdomen pressed warmly into Mira's back,. He felt love wash over him in waves, pure and all-encompassing... seeing them like this stirred something deeper than desire.
Though he still felt desire.
Only then did he move, crossing the room while his hands began the carefully shedding his armor. After he was done, he drew the remaining garments over his head and down his legs. Arthur then approached the bed lifting the edge of the silk sheets as gently and then sliding his body beneath them in one fluid motion that caused the mattress to dip only slightly beneath his weight.
The linens enveloped him immediately in their softness, still holding the combined heat of Mira and Cassie's bodies along with the subtle floral trace of the herbs they sprinkled in their baths, he positioned himself carefully between them, his presence stirring the air just enough to make them shift in their sleep.
He leaned first toward Mira, brushing a stray lock of blonde hair from her cheek with the backs of his fingers before pressing his lips to her forehead in a feather-light kiss, then trailing them downward along the curve of her cheek and finally capturing her mouth in a slow, lingering press that tasted of the mint and honey she had sipped before retiring. "Mira, my love," he murmured against her lips, as one hand rose to cup the side of her face, thumb stroking tenderly along her jaw. "I've returned... you look so beautiful like this, you steal my breath every single time I see you."
Mira's eyes fluttered open gradually, her long lashes parting to reveal the amazingly blue eyes. She blinked a few times and then a soft, radiant smile curved her lips as full awareness settled in, her body turning toward him with a gentle shift that made the thin nightgown stretch across the swell of her belly.
The movement caused the fabric to ride higher, exposing more of that smooth, rounded skin, and she released a contented sigh that carried the last traces of drowsiness. "Arthur... you're here at last. I was dreaming of you again." She said in a melodic tone, laced with the warmth of genuine relief as she reached out with one hand to rest her palm flat against his bare chest. "Come closer, let me feel every inch of you and know that this is not a dream too."
Even as Mira spoke, her words drawing him deeper into the moment, Cassie began to stir on his other side, her dark hair catching the light in tousled waves as she pushed herself up slightly on one elbow, the motion causing her own loose nightgown to slip from one shoulder and reveal the creamy expanse of skin stretched lovingly over her own rounded abdomen.
Her green eyes opened with a spark of playful delight that cut through the sleepiness, and she scooted nearer across the sheets until her thigh brushed warmly against his. "Mmm, Arthur? Is that really you slipping into our bed, come to do something despicable are you?" she teased in a voice that was lighter and more teasing than Mira's.
She glanced over at Mira with a conspiratorial little smile before her free hand found Arthur's arm and squeezed it gently, her fingers lingering as if to anchor him there. "We hoped you'd visit us last night, it's a shame you could not, we had to content ourselves with caring for our own needs?"
Arthur smiled and he drew Mira into a deeper kiss now, his mouth moving against hers slowly, allowing him to taste the lingering sweetness of her evening tea while his other hand reached across to caress the curve of Cassie's hip, pulling her closer into the shared embrace. "The task ser Duncan assigned me dragged on far longer than I wished, in the end I did not wish to disturb you so I slept in the white sword tower," he replied between kisses. "But rest assured I am hear now to make up for my blunder."
The women responded with soft murmurs of pleasure and agreement, their bodies arching instinctively toward his touch. He started with Mira, his hand slipping slowly beneath the hem of her nightgown and gliding upward along the warm silk of her inner thigh until his fingers parted her gently and found her already warm and slick with the first hints of arousal born from sleep and his kisses.
He circled the sensitive bud at her center with feather-light strokes that drew a trembling sigh from her lips, watching the way her eyelids fluttered and her mouth parted in quiet bliss. "That's it, my love..." she whispered.
His other hand mirrored the motion on Cassie, whose thighs opened willingly beneath the covers to welcome his questing touch. Cassie moaned in her throat, a throaty sound that vibrated through the bed as she turned her head to press a lingering kiss to Mira's exposed shoulder.
As his fingers worked with increasing rhythm, sliding deep inside Mira's welcoming heat and curling slowly to stroke that hidden spot that always made her hips rock gently against his palm. He lowered his mouth to Cassie's exposed sex after easing her nightgown higher.
The fabric bunched above the swell of her pregnancy, revealing the glistening pink folds beneath, and he leaned in to taste her with long strokes of his tongue that lapped from entrance to clit. The flavor of her was sweet and musky on his lips, intoxicating in the way it mingled with the faint floral scent of her skin."Arthur... oh, yes, right there with your tongue," Cassie breathed out in a rush of words that tumbled over one another, her hand tangling gently in his hair to guide while her other arm reached to pull Mira closer. "You've been gone too long for us to go without this..."
Mira turned immediately, capturing Cassie's mouth in a passionate kiss that allowed their breaths to mingle and Arthur continued alternating between them his mouth now switching to Mira's slick heat while his fingers maintained their rhythm inside Cassie, drawing out every wet, intimate sound that filled the chamber.
The pleasure built gradually, moment by moment, with no rush to conclusion. Mira reached her peak first, her entire body tensing in a rolling wave as her inner walls clenched tightly around his fingers and her thighs quivered against his cheeks; a long, drawn-out cry of "Arthur... I'm... oh gods, yes, just like that!" escaped her lips while her hands gripped the pillows and her back arched as much as her swollen belly would allow, the release crashing through her in visible shudders that left her panting and glowing.
He stayed with her through every aftershock, his tongue gentling to prolong the pleasure until she melted back against the sheets with a blissful sigh.
Only then did he return fully to Cassie, his mouth sealing over her once more while his freed fingers stroked Mira through the lingering tremors, and Cassie shattered soon after with a series of shuddering breaths and a keening moan that echoed softly off the stone walls, her hips lifting carefully as the orgasm tore through her in powerful waves, her dark hair spilling across the pillow.
Afterward, Arthur rose up between them slowly, his face flushed and lips still glistening, before leaning down to kiss each woman deeply in turn. "I love you both so much," he said softly as he pulled back just enough to look into their eyes, one hand resting protectively over each of their bellies. "Seeing you like this, together and so full of life, is everything I could ever need."
He then took a moment to lay by them, it would be a long day just like all the others, but it was moments like these that made all of those long days worth it.
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STATUS MENU
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Name: Arthur of Harrowfield
Class: Squire
Heritage: Valyrian / Stormlands
Age: 16
Level: 7
Unallocated Stat Points: 0
Title(s): Fledgling Hero
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COMBAT ATTRIBUTES
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Strength: 22
Dexterity: 15
Constitution: 22 (+45%)
Intelligence: 8
Perception: 9
Luck: 8
Magic: 3
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TRAITS
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[Comely]
You've got the kind of face that gets you smiled at, flirted with, and forgiven for things you probably should not be.
[Sword Prodigy]
You wield a blade like it belongs in your hand—faster learning speed, tighter reflexes, and better execution with swords.
[Sharp Ears]
Your hearing is unnaturally acute. You can detect faint sounds, whispers, and movement even from across the room.
[Blood of the Dragon]
The blood of Old Valyria burns within you. Magic coils in your veins like flame beneath skin.
Grants access to the Magic stat, increased dragon affinity, and heightened emotional intensity when protecting what is yours.
[Dragon Dreams]
Your dreams carry meaning. They may reveal warnings, truths, or omens. Whether they are blessings or curses remains uncertain.
[Dexterous]
Your hands and fingers are exceptionally nimble. Tasks requiring precision, balance, and control are performed with greater ease.
[Gift]
You may transfer one trait or skill to another individual. The recipient gains a weaker version. The trait or skill is permanently removed from you.
[Inventive Genius]
You instinctively imagine, design, and improve tools and mechanisms beyond your era's understanding.
[Demon Back]
When pushed beyond natural limits, your musculature synchronizes for explosive power. Strength temporarily exceeds normal human thresholds. Overuse strains the body and increases aggression.
[Linguist]
You instinctively understand any spoken language and learn magical or ancient ones with unusual ease.
[Arcane Script]
You can read any written language, rune, or magical script.
[The Shining]
You sense emotional and psychic impressions left on people, places, and objects.
[Ambidextrous]
No penalty for using either hand.
[Hyper Mobility]
Enhanced joint flexibility and range of motion.
[The World] (Stand not incl.)
You may momentarily freeze time.
Current Limit: 1.5 seconds.
Duration and frequency scale with Magic.
Frequent use causes extreme exhaustion.
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SKILLS
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[Observe]
[Carpentry] (6/100) (Journeyman)
[Conditioning] (45/100)
└─ Recovery (Sub-skill)
└─ +45% Constitution
[Novocaine] (60/100)
[Cooking] (70/100) (Expert)
[Tracker] (20/100) (Legendary)
[Axe Mastery] (49/100) (Novice)
[Carnal Knowledge] (12/100) (Expert)
[Shibukawa-ryū Jujutsu] (69/100) (Apprentice)
[Lumbering] (55/100) (Journeyman)
[Falling Star Style] (55/100) (Journeyman)
[Water Dancing Style] (77/100) (Apprentice)
[Massage] (8/100) (Master)
[Poison Resistance] (12/100) (Journeyman)
[Acrobatics] (72/100) (Journeyman)
[Mathematics] (56/100) (Adept)
[Hamon] (70/100) (Novice)
[Alchemy] (30/100) (Novice)
[Jousting] (82/100) (Novice)
[Horse Riding] (34/100) (Apprentice)
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(AN: A small time skip as well as the reveal of Arthur's horse. Tbh I heard some good suggestions, but then I started thinking about darksiders for some reason and then it kinda all spiralled from there. So yeah. Arthur rides one of the horses of the apocalypse. I changed the name cause I always liked the TS Elliot poem about the world not ending with a loud bang but a quiet whimper. Or something like that. Anyway hope you enjoyed.)
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