"Erandur? Are you the one who spoke of healing magic?" Artorias asked as he looked up at him. "If thou are uncertain, if thou wishest to leave now for thine own safety, then I will put no blame on you" he said, hoping the warning would be enough. Artorias knew there would be risk and he did not wish for anything bad to happen, especially to such a kind stranger.
Artorias's future would have been lost to him had he remained on his world. He would have slowly lost his mind to the abyss and fallen to it. Become fuelled by pure, raw, humanity that had gone wild. And while he would have still struggled against the abyss, killing the monsters born of it, ultimately he would become part of it. Should the abyss be left in his body, allowed to grow, he knew the station could become like New Londo.