This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of SIGRUN DROWNING CEREMONY. Please read on at your own risk: includes drowning, near death, possible deaths, religious connotations, etc.

In the far distant horizon, thunder rumbled and lightning zinged across the dark foreboding clouds. They promised that they would bring rain to relieve the heat and dry of Summer. The water swelled and rushed against the obsidian sands, the smacking of their arrival, more of a slap than a caress. The normally quiet woosh of their retreat a scream as the wind stirred her mane. Eisa Sigrun found herself ankle deep in the stormy waters- staring off into that distant horizon, and the swells of the water, her eyes vacant with memories of a day long ago.

She often wondered what it would take, to see Vellen again. Would she have to drown, to be cast to the waves to see if he found her worthy still? Was she good enough to be the jarl of the family- though she was so young? She sighed, as she corrected herself- co-jarl, she supposed though she hadn't seen anything of Cirilla since she'd lost the Lagoon to the tripod. She supposed her co-jarl must be resting somewhere, healing- to come back for her home one day. Or maybe just enjoying time with her family- it truly wasn't her business.

Regardless, she had duties to attend too- and it was time, she thought- and so Eisa let loose a summoning roar, for the younger siblings she had- if their father wasn't able to do the ceremony for them... Eisa knew she could, and perhaps... maybe one of them would see Vellen and gain some direction.

@Asbjørn @Sæunn Any other Sigrun is welcome and if they need the ceremony, hop on in, but anyone not Sigrun/ Family ally will be met with hostility. This will be a fast paced thread, and I will try to reply once Asbjorn is present, but Eisa can go on and do others after his!

ART BY YUMPY, CODE BY LARS

Sif

Once again she had lost where to rest her head. Unsure of what happens to Sersie, and the rest of the pride.. A heavy sigh escaped her lungs as she tested on top of a boulder near the breaking waves, sensing the change of weather, lighting and thunder echoing on the distance. Vellen? There was no doubt about it.

But there was a worry in her heart, she hasn't done her ceremony. As the previous instant she didn't have the chance. So when she heard the calls for a ceremony she had to take the chance. She too was in need of guidance. She approached finding the red lioness. "Sif Sigrun. I wish to be presented to Vellen." She stated her desire as she took a seat.

@Heisa

code by cala & art by line art by Kamis cafe

Valhalla Calling

This day was long coming. A large part of him wondered if it was too late. Would Vellen punish him for not coming sooner? @Eisa. Asbjørn murmurs from behind her, coming to slide along side her, hip resting against hers. He nods toward @Sif before silver eyes slip to rest ahead toward the raging waves. A hard and audible swallow moves down his throat, the anxiety of it all hammering away in his chest.

The ocean rolls and bucks like a wild angry animal. Lightening striking and illuminating the three lions standing on shore. I hope you know what you're doing. A faint and somewhat forced smile tugging his dark lips. He had hoped a joke would ease his worry but it did little in doing so.

Art by Yumpy, Code by Minxy

The first female who appears, is not one that Eisa knows. Immediately, she feels tension coil itself within her body- and she is ready to chase her away, until she speaks. Relaxing, her fur settling along her body- she nods. "Eisa Sigrun. Jarl." Or co-jarl, but since she hadn't seen Cirilla recently, and the lioness wasn't here- she would keep it as such for simplicity sakes. "Welcome." She offers, with a small smile- that grows into something larger but tighter as her brother appears, his scent a welcome thing- as he comes to stand alongside her- gazing at the waves. She would aim to tilt her head, to gently brush it against his in a sign of affection, before she spoke.

"It was not long ago that it was my own time. Vellen is waiting." She murmurs. But inwardly, her mind echoes- I hope I know what I'm doing too, brother. Yet- she knows she has to present with confidence- with strength. Inhaling, and then exhaling slowly she straightens.

"Are you two ready?" She asks, wanting to hear that they were ready and sure before anything proceeded.

@Sif @Asbjørn

ART BY YUMPY, CODE BY LARS

Vellen is waiting
Asbjørn's heart hammers nearly in time with the crash of the waves. His nod is a forced one, his muscles feeling all too stiff. Without saying anything he makes his way toward the water. He remembered vaguely all that Cirilla had done to Aurelia. What Vellen had done to Aurelia.
Am I strong enough? He wonders with furrowed brows. His breath sucking in through his teeth as the cold water seeps into his fur, attaching itself to his skin.
I’m confident you’ll be strong enough, Asbjørn.
His head turns back toward the more distant shore, hoping to see him there. To see the dark figure of his father laying upon the sand. Waiting for his son to return from the sea. Rready to label him a true Sigrun.
Ek er tilbúinn, systir. I'm ready, sister.

@Eisa

Art by Yumpy, Code by Minxy

Truth was that she was unbearably late because she wasn't sure she could bear being present for it. Not that she feared it, not really, but she was concerned for her own family members that would be doing the ceremony. Ana was still alive but she had suffered a blind eye for it and when she had looked at herself through her good eye within the water (not the ocean, of course) she knew she needed to go. Not for her but for them — so she moved with grace and a lifted chin towards where @Eisa and her family was an took a deep breath. Not wanting to impede upon the ceremony but wanting those getting it done to know that she was here. She would not interfere but she would be there when she would be able to attend to any medical emergencies and to give support where needed.

Art by Drifty || Code by Zay || BG

Post 1/5 for Sæunn on Absence

She was tardy, but hey at least she had made it here before the whole ritual started. Paws carried the merle girl down towards the beach. She'd known this day was coming for awhile now, but she had been exploring the lands on her own. It was nice not being exactly tied to her parents, and it allowed her to get away with being more carefree than her siblings might be.

As she made her way towards the beach, she heard her eldest sister's words. "Apologies for being late, but being a rogue tends to make you run on your own time." Sæunn said as she padded to stand alongside her brother. Aiming to bump her shoulder against @Asbjørn, she'd then turn her attention back to @Eisa. A nod would be given to @Analía, glad to see her other big sister here as well. The other one there, @Sif, was unknown to her at the time. "I suppose I'm as ready as I'll ever be for this." She said, flicking an ear as she spoke.
actions. "speech."

Art by Riot | Table Code by Zodiac

Sif

Sif did feel nervous, she was a mortal anyways, she too felt fear and uncertainty. Even though she was very good at hiding her feelings under a cold and calm expression. She learned to hide her weaknesses, even at a young age. Life was for the toughest, only for those who were ready to take on the hardship and challenges. Her mother tuaght her well.

She eyed the other two yearlings who were also there to be presented to Vellen. Family only now she was meeting for the first time.

She stepped forward as her eyes fell on the Jarl. "I am ready." She said firmly, inside she was afraid but on the outside a fall expression rested on this lilac features.

@Sæunn @Eisa @Asbjørn @Analía

code by cala & art by line art by Kamis cafe

This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of drowning, youth endangerment, religious ceremony

She inhales a deep lungful of salty ear, and holds it in her chest. She looks to where @Analía comes to join them, her stoic expression softening on her sister as she aims to meet her gaze in silent contemplation. "Please assist them as they come back," She orders and request from her sister- her tone soft but firm. She smiles softly at @Sæunn, and welcomes her. "Welcome sister." A soft welcome, before she steps into the water flicking her tail to @Asbjørn to bring him into the water alongside her.

She would lead them into knee-high- belly high water- the cold water seeping into her fur, before she would stop and turn to him. "Bróðir, treystu á loppurnar á Vellen. " Brother put your faith in Vellen. She would speak softly, but firmly, before she raised a paw- and aimed to hit the back of his head, where Myrkvi had hit her before- and would aim the power into the blow to rend him unconcious- to be turned to the waves. "Ég elska þig" I love you.

Let the words be carried away on the waves. Let her brother come home.

Vellen, please.

She would wait for the waves to take her brother's body, and when he would drift further away- she'd beckon to @Sif inviting the female to join her in the water. When she'd get close enough, and focus on her- she would speak. "Vellen mun heilsa þér í djúpum öldunum" Vellen will greet you in the depths of the waves She inhales, trying to meet her gaze. "Og við verðum hér fyrir þig þegar þú kemur aftur, frændi." And we will be here when you return, cousin. Perhaps it was a stretch to call her cousin, but it seemed to fit- and Eisa wanted her to know that she took her drowning as seriously as she took her siblings. That she mattered to her, just as much. Only after a moment, would she aim to hit the female over the head, just as she had her brother- and as she'd seen her father do- to let her drift into unconsciousness among the waves.

Eisa would wait, until the female's body had been taken by the waves, and then with a deep inhale she would summon @Sæunn to her in the waters. By the time her sister would make it to her- she knew that the others would be in Vellen's paws, and she kept herself from looking for her brother- from looking for Sif. Instead, she focused on her sister- speaking softly to her. "Vellen bíður þín, systir. Megi hann faðma þig og skila þér." Vellen awaits you, sister. May he embrace you and return you. She would speak the words, and internally pray that it would be true. Only after a moment, would she strike her sister the same way to rend her unconscious and let her body surrender to the waves. "Ég elska þig" I love you. A repeat of what she'd said to her brother. A prayer, to Vellen from Eisa herself.

Eisa would step back in the water, until the water merely met her knees, as her gaze studied the waves- watching for the return of the three of them. Praying that all three would come back. Praying that all three would be greeted by Vellen, and released, and that she was a good enough jarl to see this all happen.

ART BY YUMPY, CODE BY LARS

The waves roar in the distance, coming to heel the closer to shore they became. Until they slapped into the side of his body. Silver eyes stare into his sister's own. A matching set. The two cats forever entwined by blood. And there is fear there. Deep in the pools of his soul there is terror. Yet he does not move. Does not protest. The love he holds for her evident even through that fear. As her paw lifts, his eyes close tight. When her words are done, his dark lips part as if to speak. But whatever he wished to say died in his throat as pain exploded behind his closed lids. Vibrant colors popping and spilling.

And then there was only darkness.

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His fur is ruffled by the wind, his body all of a sudden too cold for his liking. He yawns before opening his eyes, looking around him for his siblings. For his parents. For anyone. But he is suddenly faced with the fact that he was no longer in the den. The boy jumps to his feet, turning this way and that. He stood upon sand. Around him are rocks, leafless trees and grass that is strangely too tall. Overhead the clouds looked grey and angry. This was not the Brook. Nor was it the Summit.
Mama? The small grey cub whispers out, too afraid to shout. There is nothing. And there is no one. P-Papa! He squeaks a little louder this time. Still there is no answer. With a trembling body he decides to move. Instinct driving him forward. He cannot stay in this unfamiliar openness. He mustn't linger. First he shuffles, then he jogs, then he is running and before he knows it he is in a full sprint. Going as fast as his small legs may carry him. Passing rock after rock. Tree after tree. Then all too soon the child wears himself out. He flops down, unsure of how far he had traveled. Everything looked the same here. Eyes continue to look all around while he sits in his defeat. His attention falls upon something a bit too familiar. An indent in the sand. An impression of a body? Like someone had been laying there. Wha- The dreadful realization causing tears to form in his eyes. All that work just for him to end up right back where he started. But how?! He had moved straight ahead. He was sure of it!
"Who are you?"
The child froze, dark fur along his spine standing on end. His head snaps up to see a blackened figure lounging in the near distance. For a moment he is sure that it is his father. Yet that was not his papa's voice. There was no warmth there in that deep baritone. The boy squints, straining to get a better look at the man. But he is so unfathomably dark. It is as if he has no features at all. His eyes like two blazing stars. His mane flowing around him as if in turbulent winds. There was indeed a breeze, but nothing strong enough to cause that amount of motion. Unease slithered into the boy's mind, rendering him unable to answer.
"Do you not know?
The creature asks in a tone that suggests he is rather unimpressed with the situation. Again the boy does not answer. This time however it is not out of fear. Little brows furrow as he tries to think. The answer to the question seemed to be right there on the tip of his tongue yet he cannot catch it. Cannot force it out of his mouth.
Though the figure makes no moves and continues to simply lounge, the boy is afraid that his patience may run thin. So he says the only thing that he seems to know. My mama and papa. They lead Vermeda. And my grandmas lead Illyria. Silence follows and only seems to grow larger with each breath. It grows until it is too much for the cub. So he starts again. My papa is a Jarl too. And my grandpa was a Jarl before him. Yet still there is nothing offered back. And-
"Ónýtur drengur. That is not what I asked."
Confusion clings to the youth's face. Head tilting to the side as he tries to understand what the man had just said. The first part of his words sounding strange. Similar to some of the words that his father sometimes used. But these he had never heard before.
"How long are you going to stay small, Ónýtur drengur? Or do you plan to hide behind your innocence forever?"
What the boy now felt was much greater than confusion. He had no way to put it into words, only to ask. What do you mean? Now it was the man's turn to not answer. He.. It.. Who or whatever this was simply stared. Unblinking. Waiting for something. But the boy had nothing to give. He tries again. I don't know what you want. Desperation and fear kindling into his young voice but still the darkness only stared. Unmoving. Did this lion even breathe? The only thing that seemed to move was what the boy assumed to be mane. Floating there. Shifting around in some unfathomably wild yet slow wind.
Time felt as if it was moving both too slowly and too swiftly. When he wondered how long he had been here his mind told him it was both seconds and eternity. Help me, he thought. His heart reaching out for anyone. Willing a familiar face to appear and ferry him away to warmth and safety. Please, he urged. Please please please.
His attention snagged upward as the man moved. Now standing. The child's entire boy tensed as the lion loomed. Even from a distance he could tell that he was massive. A towering beast. And though he still could not see any defining features upon the other's body, he could only guess that he was built thickly. The very thought that he might move closer caused the boy's mind to go into hyper drive. My name.. He wants my name.. Then it struck. Like a sharp bang of a stubbed toe. Had he been giving him the answer this entire time? Could it have really been that simple? Even though neither had spoken, interest seemed to flicker across the lion's starry gaze.
The boy braced himself with confidence. Believing that he had solved whatever puzzle now rested before him. Ónýt-
NO!
A demand that rattled around in his skull. A voice not his own. Nor was it that of the other dark lion. The boy startled in place. Wide eyes seeking the source yet there was none to be found.
No.
Rather than bounce between his ears, this time the voice came calmer. He could not tell if it was man or woman. A mix of both maybe? But how that possibly could be only served to baffle him further. Why? He wanted to ask. But he need not bring the question into existence. A gentle caress touches his cheek. There is nothing there still but he feels it. And an understanding begins to fall upon him. That is not his name. But an insult. Words meant to bring him down. To make him smaller than what he truly was. To agree would mean certain destruction upon himself.
Begone. The darkness snarled.
That soft caress stilled but did not vanish. And the boy could see the rage in those eyes of white light. So he too had heard that voice? Could he see who it was as well?
Today he is mine and you will not interfere!
This time it was a roar that shook the very air around them. That strangely comforting presence felt as though it grew out of pure defiance. But all too quickly, and much to his dismay, it slowly slipped away into nothingness. Please. He begged. Please stay with me.
Before it was completely gone, a small tinge of it tickled his nose. Again a knowing without knowing dawned upon him. It was always with him. Even if he could not feel it. Whoever this was would be with him forever. Tears stung at his eyes but the anger from the large man now attached itself to the child.
"When will you grow up, Ónýtur drengur? Hm? When will you stop hiding and decide to finally face me like a man?"
Ónýtur drengur. Useless boy.. His eyes closed tight, willing the tears to halt. Commanding they not fall. Don't call me that. He huffed. Pouting. Dark ears sliding back and tail lashing violently. But it only served to fuel the torment. As the dark man laughed. But there was not joy in it. No true merriment.
"Time is running out, Ónýtur drengur. Come. Face me. Show me the real you."
Don't call me that! He shouted, eyes snapping open at his own outburst. Shocked to hear a voice that was both his and not. Deeper. Stronger. And with eyes opened he suddenly felt too far up. As if standing on a mountain despite feeling the sand still under his claws.
"There you are."
Silver eyes land back upon the other man. And slowly, finally, realization awakens. Vellen.. He whispers. The God says nothing but there is a certain gleam in his sharp gaze. Gradually, he takes time to look around them. This is.. He begins. The rocks, the leafless trees, all covered in holes with birds fluttering around them. He squints. No. Not birds. They were.. His head snaps up toward the grey rolling clouds ahead. Yet it was not the sky. Eyes travel back to Vellen and his floating mane. Not wind.. Waves. They were in water. They stood at the bottom of the ocean.
My drowning..
"Yes."
The Ocean. How was he breathing? Was he breathing? Earlier you said time was running out. What did you mean?
"Who are you?"
What? He couldn't be serious. This again? I'm.. He stops, brows lowering to shadow over his eyes. I'm.. What was happening right now? He was.. He knew who he was!
"Then tell me if you know." Vellen rumbled. And he should have been awed in knowing that the God could read his mind. But this was his domain. And he was indeed a God. And he was standing at the bottom of the ocean talking to said God. He felt as if he shouldn't be surprised by anything anymore.
Who am I? Well I'm a son of Cassandra and Myrkvi. Grandson of Magnus. Grandson of Morrigan. Son of Jarls. Part of an expansive family that-
"No, boy. I care not for who they are or who you are tied to. Their great deeds are their own. Their trials. Their tribulations. The blood they have spilled. The lives they have taken. It all belongs to them. And you have no right to it just because you popped from their loins."
He glared at Vellen. Uncertain on what it was that he was supposed to do. Drown. Revive. That was all that he had known. He was not prepared for whatever this was. But time was running out.. Time was.. Am I dead? He blurts without really thinking. And once it is out he instantly regrets it. If he was dead then he decided then that he did not wish to truly know. But then that heavy silence falls between them again. Oh how he wished that he could read the God's mind. To know what it was that he was meant to do. To know what it was that he wanted from him. And the quiet drags on still and it is near maddening. Driving him to want to break it by screaming. Roaring. Snarling and spitting. He wanted to lash out. To break through the waves and rip himself free from this hell.
"Yes, Ónýtur drengur. Time is running out. What are you going to do about it?"
Why do you call me that! I am not useless!
"But you are! You are Ónýtur drengur. Fore whenever I called upon you, that is the answer you would give."
What? No, I-
No? Yes! The fall of Vermeda. The maiming of your sister. The death of your grandmother. Every time I called upon you and every time I was met with the same response. Worthless. Useless. Powerless. This is what you are. It is WHO you are."
But I was just a kid!
"So too was your sister yet she answered my call. You turned away!"
The anger that flared within him began to dwindle down into regret. Into shame. He hadn't felt as if he had been strong enough. Did not want to disgrace all of those family names he carried by losing. By being beaten down and rendered unfit. To be seen unworthy. Weak.
"If someone must die. Let it be me."
Maw slackened a bit upon hearing those words. Eyes growing wider and head subtly shaking side to side.
"It was life or death. The battle raged yet still you simply stood there. He snapped her neck and you just stood there. You called for me."
I called for Maua!
"I ANSWERED YOU!" Vellen thundered. "I was the answering wave. I was the merciless slamming. I, who erodes everything back into nothing. I who asked you for what you would give. And you said -"
No.
"Oh yes, boy. Everything!"
He felt it. A pain radiating from his side. Feeling as if he'd been slammed against something hard.
"Unyielding." The God hissed. "And you are the one who would squander it all. The one who would waste the gifts I have bestowed. The one who would throw away EVERYTHING. All those long years you could have had. Carelessly thrown to the wayside. In favor of an old lioness. Just so she may have but a minute more."
But she's Morrigan Greyflood! How could I-
"AND WHO ARE YOU!!"
Hackles raised, body tensing. How he wanted to show this God who he was. To sink fang and claw and -- Something behind Vellen catches his attention. A dark form floating in the air. No. Not the air. Water. The God seems to notice and even steps to the side so that he may have a better look. His whole body slowly slumps. All feeling seeping away. A numbness taking hold as his eyes land upon himself. Himself. Eyes closed. Unmoving save the current that jostled his lifeless limbs. They slammed his body against a rock and he could feel the pain of it. Wincing and hissing through his teeth. He looks back to Vellen and before that annoying silence engulfs them again, he is running. Sprinting. Heaving himself toward his own being. As he draws near, whatever ghostly gravity that had anchored him to the ocean floor gives way. It sweeps his feet out from under him. He tries to find balance. Feet brushing the floor before he is grounded again. But then he is swept once more upward and to the side. Yet forward he must continue. With gritted teeth he fights waves he cannot see. At one point he looks behind him but Vellen remained in his place. Watching in unreadable stillness. That same question blazing behind his observant gaze.

By the steady stream I am the shield of Valour.
He is taken off his footing, limbs pumping as he swims before touching down.
By the bite of the mountain I am the sword of Greyflood.
He slips, a rush of water knocking him so hard he chin bounces off the sands. With a snarl he throws himself upright before continuing on.
And by the raging of the sea I am --
His arm outstretched, a toe brushes fur. A blink and his point of view shifts entirely. Instantly there is searing hot pain coursing through his chest. Maw opening to gasp yet only more discomfort follows. Bubbles billowing out and up. He tries to move. To swim but there is a heaviness weighing on him. Muscles twitch and his body convulses in ways he cannot seem to control. Eyes flutter and a cold darkness begins to creep along the edges of his vision. Against his claws he can feel stone. He attempts to grab on. To use the rock as leverage and perhaps push himself upwards. The unseen forces around him push and shove from every direction. His side connects into the rock and hot blinding agony erupts from now broken ribs. The shock of it is enough to bring him back into himself.
"Rise."
He launches himself up. Climbing higher and higher still. The end is near. A desperation he has never before felt holding siege upon his heart. For a split second things go black. The rush of the sea replaced by a high pitched ring.
Am I strong enough?
The blackness flickers and with one last kick his head breeches the surface. His jaws open wide but his gasps for air are gurgled. The flow of life saving oxygen partially blocked by the water sitting within his lungs. He cannot find it within himself to care just how roughly the storm jostles him. Does not fight it. His focus tries to hone in on the shore. Dread once more gripping him tightly as the figures of his family seem so far away.
Just a little more.
Just a little more.
A little -
Just a little--
"Rise. Rise and do not stop until I call you home."

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Water gushes from his mouth. Over and over. He fears it will never end. Fears he will never get to take that gulp of air. When it indeed ends he collapses. His cheek slamming into the sand. His whole body shaking. Every rise of his chest is met with pain but he cares little. Only happy to be taking in breath after sweet breath. As he lays there, he stares out toward the sea. For a moment he thought he saw eyes staring back at him. Eyes like starlight. And if he didn't know any better, he'd say they held a question.

I-- am-- He croaks, voice feeling as though it had never before been used. Asbjørn Sigrún.


/exit to unconsciousness

Art by Yumpy, Code by Minxy