the waves thrash this early morning as she arrives, just as much as the cubs that are settled within her belly. the sky is dark, almost more so than the abyssal fur of both magnus and nadia. desdemona lingers some distance away from the water's edge, allowing for the children and true sigrun to have some space for their ritual, though her eyes are wide as the lagoon itself as she looks out to the brewing storm. there's a pit of worry in her chest and she spares a glance at @Hákon, recognizing the man from her time in the hollow. the calico is unsure if he wants to be alone, but she doesn't give him that luxury and greets him with a small smile, tight and ultimately nervous — this ritual, she's sure that it would befall her unborn cubs own at some point and she curls into herself almost protectively, rocking onto her haunches and quite unsure of just what she is about to witness.

manip by sanctuare

how was she supposed to sleep knowing what was coming? how was she supposed to find calm when the world around her had finally climaxed to this pivotal, life-crafting moment? instead of fooling herself into thinking that rest would bless her on the eve of her second drowning, voluspa had opted to take time to herself, slipping beyond the company of her kin and confidants for a moment of private repose. and it was there that she whispered silent words to vellen, hushed out into the early hours of the morning as she prayed humbly for guidance, on the day of all days. for prevalence was the only option -- she was not ready to die. she refused to.

moving eerily in the direction of @Magnus, @Nadia, and the growing hoard of sigrun, the valkyrie maintained a stoniness to her visage, crafted carefully and forged in steel. today was not about them, but about their god, and whether or not he found them suitable to hold the sigrun name and continue on, plundering the world at their delight. and while voluspa felt as though she had earned her place, through and through, she also knew that the question posed today, the answer of which was splayed between the icy hands of vellen, was not something so easily deciphered nor determined. regardless, there was an evenness to the princess that did not go unnoticed -- her nervousness had petered out into a cold sort of acceptance of the situation, eyes only flattering as they shifted onto her parents and the rest of her siblings, before settling upon the vast expanse of the sea before them. she was the storm and the calm all bundled into one, waiting patiently for instruction, as obsidian toes flexed idly against the sands.

table code by ferus

the day of the drowning. a day of reverence. she takes her time approaching, her own chest tight as she realizes her own children's drowning at birth would be oh-so soon. a gentle paw goes, briefly, to her stomach and she closes her eyes and breathes deep. 'vellen give them strength and take them swiftly if you must.' but magnus' brood is strong - devout. she's seen their dedication to the religion to the family. she is certain as she rises and shakes the sand from her pelt that they will, of course, prevail. the morning is clear and quiet and she moves swiftly, comfortably, across the lagoon. it feels like a place she's been forever, now, and she's happier than ever to be back at the helm of their god and not tucked beneath the earth. when she arrives the group gathered is small and ready, the children fanned out before their parents and the rest of the family scattered in a half-circle. her eyes brush across each of them, but she pointedly keeps herself from drifting to the one she wants to go to. instead, she approaches nadia and magnus, a massive albatross clamped between her jaws. it took her the better part of the day, yesterday, to track one down and catch it, but she hopes the gift will bring them joy. or, at least, some comfort. she places it gently at their feet and lifts her gaze, bowing her head before shamelessly reaching to butt her head against her brother's jaw and then nadia's, less they jerk away. "the death of an ill omen." she offers, stepping back and leaving the bird with them. "a blessing for your children." and then she's away, weaving around the crowd. she nods at ulla, moving to brush a shoulder against the woman if she will allow it. they may be at odds in the best of times, but today would bring them all together, one way or another. and then, without hesitating, she circles round behind @Hákon and silently sits at his right side. she says nothing, offers him no look, merely takes her place there and waits.

table by koi // stock

The call came and went and Brigid took her sweet time making her way towards the Lagoon. A lesser woman would have blamed her lack of sight but Brigid simply took her time because she didn't feel like arriving swiftly. The drowning ceremony was a harsh reminder of the sight that she had lost. It was a dose of reality that all of these youth would need to take in quickly. Vellen would decide their fate, as would the ocean, and Brigid didn't necessarily have any bets on how the children would do, yet. When she moves across the sandy borders she is assaulted with numerous scents, all of which belonged to her family. Perhaps what drew her attention the most was the combination of @Hákon and @Saga's scents, they must have been sitting close to one another from what she could tell (not that she had her sight to depend on). Pointedly the dappled woman would send a dark scowl in the hopeful direction of the pair before she would move to take a seat to the far left of both @Magnus and @Nadia. She would then shift her attention to the ocean, the distant sound of an approaching storm promising. Abruptly she would clear her throat before speaking, "May the odds be in your favor children." A smirk crossing her features before her stoic mask would be put back into place once more.

An important day, a day that brought to her thousands of memories, not too far ones. She went through this same ceremony, twice as per their traditions. One upon birth and the other a year ago. The drowing, the moment when Vellen palced either his blessing or wrath over those who were put to a test between the ocean's waves. She wasnt the firts to arrive as she noted her mother @Saga , @Magnus @Nadia , @Desdemona @Hakon and many more of the Sigrun family. She was quick to sit by her mothers side, wishing to witness something she once took part of. It was time for Vellen to chose his blessed today. Time of awake for this new generation of Sigrún.

Code by Cloudy

He wasn't familiar with this ceremony that Nadia had told him about but he did know that it was incredibly important that the family as a whole be in attendance. Bronn might have a steely nature about him but one thing he did care about was his nieces and nephews, they were family after all. He moved across the land as swiftly as could be managed, remembering the exact information that Nadia had supplied to him about where to go. When he arrived there were already plenty of others present (the vast majority sigruns he assumed) and so he moved to take his own seat a few paces from the others. He was quiet, expression cool as he turned his ruby gaze upon each of his nieces and nephews, memorizing their faces before they would take their plunge into the ocean. It was not his place to speak on what would happen here today, but he would hope above all that this god of theirs would be merciful.

code by javs

NOTE: Once Myrkvi posts with their reaction/the outcome, Magnus will post again to call upon Rasmus. For the sake of the plot that is coming, the order will be Rasmus, Hrefna and then Voluspa. There is still no post order, but if we can keep this going pretty quickly for the sake of plot progression that would be amazing. Thank you all for bearing with me!

They came, one by one, but it was only at the approach of his children that Magnus would tear his attention away from the waves to face the audience. To face his brood, in particular. @Nadia would receive a nudge to the shoulder in brief, distracted greeting, and @Desdemona - who had kept her distance, understandably - a long blink and gentle chuff. An invite to come closer and join his side, if she wished. But she would not keep his attention for long; neither of his lovers would. This time was for his children - his eldest, the future of the clan.

May Vellen guide you all.

@Saga approached, offering her gift - a sentiment that would be greatly appreciated. Magnus lifted a paw to scoop the sacrifice closer to himself, casting it to one side but not before letting his pad rest upon it for a long moment. "Thank you, sister. "May Vellen bless them in their trials." Attention shifted then to @Brigid as she piped up, steely expression noting her smirk but saying nothing. It was no doubt the excitement of a Drowning ceremony as opposed to anything personal. Ignoring the nausea that brewed - churning angrily in his stomach, sloshing and gripping unpleasantly - he would turn first to @Hrefna, who had issued a question. "The boys first," Magnus rumbled, obsidian orbs shifting to lock onto his shadow; Myrkvi.

His firstborn, and - he prayed - the first of four survivors.

He thought back to the last Drowning ceremonies he had witnessed; that of Draugr's daughter Andresa, and then - only months after - Saga's litter. That had gone.... Well. It had changed some of them. Magnus could only pray that his children would re-emerge from the waves intact, both physically and mentally. Motioning for his eldest son to join him, he would move toward the shoreline, until the water reached his toes. He would turn to @Myrkvi, but projected his voice loudly enough for all those together.

He was no priest, but it would have to do. As the clan's Jarl, it would do.

""Sonur minn, settu trú þína á Vellen. Í gegnum loppurnar leiðir hann okkur báða." The melanistic brute steeled himself, knowing full well what he must do next. What he must do the three times after that. He would not bother to tell his remaining offspring to close their eyes for this part - he could have done, truthfully, but what good would that do? Shielding any part of this ritual to them would not do them any favours in the long run; should they live long enough to become parents themselves, they would need to know how this worked so that their own progeny could be accepted as one of the clan. He would wade out to the depths until the waters - unstable and choppy - reached his gut. There would be a moments pause - giving his firstborn a chance to exchange final words with his siblings or mother, should he wish to - before he would urge the boy to follow him should he not already be present at his side. On Myrkvi, the tideline would sit just below his shoulders. Given the distance now it was doubtful that all present would be able to hear him; not unless they'd moved closer to hear him. Those at the shoreline, though, should hear all. Should see all. ""Sjáumst bráðum, sonur minn." Whether it be on this side or the other.

Then, without any further hesitation, he would strike. He would lift his paw and swing it behind Myrkvi's crown, striking him on the back of the skull - hard enough to knock him out, should he be successful, but not as strong as he would be with an enemy - before thrusting his unconscious body out into the depths. He and his kin would have to be out cold for this; Magnus had seen sentient clanmates attempt it one too many times, and time and time again the innate panic at the prospect of what was coming proved too much for even the most devout. He would recall how an elder cousin struck him about the head, before his vision went black. How the elder had stood above his slowly awakening form as he came to, minutes later on the beach, reciting blessings and praises to Vellen all the while.

All he could hope now was that their God would grant Myrkvi consciousness in time to bring himself back to safety. The boy - his boy - was at the mercy of Vellen. Magnus lingered where he stood, not daring to return to the shoreline to join the other children or his wives. He could not look at them. He would not turn back until it was over.

irish

Myrkvi's gaze would find each of his sisters as they arrived. It seemed that across the four of them they all had a similar expression on their faces - a steeled acceptance, an eerie evenness to them all. If they felt anything like he did, there would be a fiery inner strength to match the chill of the Vellen to assure themselves they would come back. Vellen would deem them worthy to continue. There was mostly silence with a few members of the family offering blessings for the of-age Sigrun. @Hrefna would inquire on how to begin, but Kvi knew it would be him first before Magnus would answer.

Myrkvi would meet @Magnus' shadowy gaze with his own without flinching. His father beckoned him and he was to follow after the jarl after a brief pause. He would step outside the line his siblings had formed to cast a long look at them from over his shoulder. "Ég mun snúa aftur." I will return. A simple, cementing promise to his siblings @Rasmus, @Hrefna, and @Voluspa for which he cared endlessly. Hopefully, those surrounding him would not take this as reckless confidence for that would be far from his intention. He was doing his best to hold onto the belief that they were worthy to continue - a sign of wavering felt like giving Vellen a reason to prove otherwise.

His path towards the sea would deviate further only to approach @Nadia. Myrkvi did not offer words to his mother. Instead, he would lift his skull with the intent to brush his cheek against her own. A gesture of how much he adored his mother and maybe some silent assurance that her son was going to walk out of the sea on his own four paws as he should.

As he turned towards the sea and therefore away from the watching eyes of the clan, he would heave a final sigh. The action was to be soft and inaudible, almost like a final intake of the salty air before losing it all. The yearling Sigrun approached the sea and proceeded to wade in towards his father to take his place beside him. The final words caused Myrkvi to look up at @Magnus where he would respond with a firm nod.

Which would be the last thing he would remember: the steeled look on his father's face as Myrkvi was struck.

The young lion's expression would be lit ablaze by the shock before the lights went out entirely. Magnus' actions from there would push his body under the waves and away from any paws that could save him. Not that anyone would dare to attempt.

Unbeknownst to anyone, there was a current running somewhere nearby. An extra, violent test for the young Sigrun? Or perhaps just terrible timing? The answer would remain unknown as Myrkvi was caught in its grasp and his limp body was thrust against the sharp rock beneath the waves. Edges worn sharp by the sea cut into soft flesh to leave minor to moderate injuries in various areas to include a jab to his skull to further the force his father had already put into knocking him out.

The current which had caught him and pulled him out to sea perhaps farther than intended. There was pressure in his chest and his limbs seemed to be screaming for air just as loud as his lungs. Not that he could hear it.

Time dragged on slowly around him. Seconds felt like minutes, minutes to hours, and hours to days. There was nothing but the dark. Wake up. He met the command with silence.

Wake. Up. The voice rang inside his skull with more command behind it. Vellen speaking to him in a tone that suggested he may take back his decision if it were ignored a second time.

He woke with a start, jaws opening to breathe and finding nothing there. A brief wave of panic as his limbs thrashed and he tried to remember which way was up. His movements sending bubbles to the surface - the key to orienting himself as they caught his attention. Follow them. His limbs worked as his body twisted to follow. Each kick sending him closer to the stormy sky above him. His forelimbs reached above him to look for the break in the surface. His body burned and was running high on risk of not making it in time. The space between him and air seemed to go on forever. The salt stung his eyes and the wounds from the rocks he has no memory of clashing with. However, they were reminders that he was alive. At least for the moment.

The sudden feeling of air on his paws as they broke the surface and crashed into it violently to bring his head above water. He coughed, hacking up water so hard his vision went dark around the edges. He fought to make room for oxygen as he struggled to pinpoint the shore. It was barely registered as land before he picked a direction and struggle swam his way there. His consciousness came and went in short bursts and in uneven intervals. To Myrkvi - he was passing out and coming to. To the audience, he would appear mostly fine. It was him who was grappling with his mind and his ability to remember what was going on.

He didn't even remember when his feet could touch the sand again or when his body collapsed on the shore just far enough where the waves that washed over him couldn't drag him back in. He laid there, coughing up seawater and bleeding for long moments before his eyes (and mind) could open again to be met with the sight of the beach landscape but sideways.

"why am I wet?" the question was asked with clear confusion on his strained features. His throat was rough from saltwater and made his voice hushed and hoarse. If anyone approached him, they'd be able to hear the question. His nose burned and there was definitely water in his ears that made him think twice about getting up. What in the hell was going on?

OOC: Myrkvi rolled a Crit Fail a 1 for side effects due to drowning - meaning he's developed TGA - a form of amnesia that comes in short bursts and temporarily removes his ability to recall what is going on/where he is. It does not alter his ability to recognize anyone or himself - just what is currently happening. His memory will return to him after a short period. (:

table by ferus, art by munk, unsplash stock

She stood with a stony indifference though inside she felt as if she was withering. There was a crippling fear that swirled within her, fear of the unknown. If she could take her children's place she would do it tenfold but Nadia understood that this was something that needed to be done. It was their way and to intervene would be unspoken. She kept herself rooted even as @Myrkvi moved to plant a chaste kiss to her cheek. "Komdu aftur til mín." She would say to him softly before retracting, watching as he would move to join his father in the sea. There were seconds, minutes that ticked by and she felt her heart dropping. It was then that @Magnus struck, and not long after Myrkvi would go limp before his body was cast out to the sea.

Despite all hopes of restraining herself Nadia moves. The woman is rushing forward, pausing at the beginning of water, staying on shore but as close as she could possibly get without interfering. Her eyes were frantic as she watched and waited for her firstborn to emerge but god it was taking so long. Why was it taking so long?! She begins to pace then, her muscles taut before a tiny dot emerges up above the water in the distance. "SONUR MINN!" She yells, continuing to pace as her eyes remained glued upon Myrkvi. Eventually he moves towards the shore and Nadia runs for him. "Why am I wet?" He speaks hoarsely as he drags himself to shore. Nadia immediately drops alongside him, fear and worry clearly written across her features. The woman reaches to gently lick the back of his head, to sweep the blood and sea salt from the wound. His body is covered in nicks and gashes but the head wound was the worst. Perhaps what worried her more was the fact that the yearling did not recall why he was wet. Her gaze would swiftly shift towards @Saga and @Úlla, surely they would know what to do wouldn't they? It would move to land back on Myrkvi, assessing the damage. However she couldn't help but be relieved that her son was still alive, damaged but alive. "Shush now, you are alright.. You've had your drowning.." She informs him softly, moving to pull him to her chest protectively as she sits on the beach alongside him. Rasmus would be next, she knew this, but gods was her heart even strong enough to handle it? To handle seeing her daughters go through the same trial? She wasn't sure.

And so he went.

Down, like a lead balloon, into the waves and into the awaiting grasp of Vellen. It would take all of Magnus' resolve to remain rooted to the spot - to not dive in and whisk him back up to safety. It was different, when it was your own children. Now he could relate to how Draugr, and Ulla, and Saga must have felt. How Steinar and Svana would feel, no doubt, once they had their own. It was only once the obsidian form of Myrkvi re-emerged that the titan would allow himself a sharp inhale of breath; the only sign that he'd been tense in any way, the only visible show of relief. He does not dare get his hopes up too far until he sees Myrkvi slowly rise. And then fall, once again, into the awaiting arms of his mother. @Nadia, as expected, was on hand to tend to her eldest. Magnus would simply let his lingering attention settle on the boy and his dam for a moment; should Myrkvi look his way, he would offer the boy a smile and nod of approval.

Well done, my son.

Alas, he could not linger on the victory for long. The sooner this was over, the sooner they could come to terms with whatever was going to be. He would turn and gesture for @Rasmus to approach, waiting until he was stood beside him before speaking. "Trúđu á Vellen. Í gegnum loppurnar leiðbeinir hann þig og ég báðir, sonur minn. Sjáumst bráðum." And then, with another sharp breath and a forceful smack, he would send his younger son careening into the depths with a thud. The waves, then, would do the rest. Magnus would simply stare, not daring to watch the form drift out and instead watching the horizon. Bring him back. Bring him back, as you did Myrkvi.

irish