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Chapter 677: Sigte
🕑 Added 2025-11-01 04:25:28 +0000 UTCStryg roared at the storm. It was not the voice of a goblin, nor the defiant scream of a godling. It was primal. And it cut through the winds and crashing waves like the howl of a wolf. The frost-mist answered in return, swirling to life around him, pulsating with newfound power.
The frost-mist called to him, all at once familiar and new. It froze the very wood underneath his feet and the soaked clothes on his body, but when it brushed his skin, the magical chill felt like the morning dew, cool to the touch. He shifted his arms and the ice on his clothes fell apart like snow off a thick coat of fur.
Stryg looked about the ship’s deck. His friends were struggling against the crashing waves, howling winds, and the overwhelming cold of the frost-mist. The storm was only growing worse the further they sailed. It all seemed so surreal to Stryg, like waking within a dream to realize it wasn’t real, that he could change it with a simple thought. And so he did.
He waved his hand over the horizon and the frost-mist billowed away from him like the center of impact. Looming waves swept past the ship and lost their swells. The ice that covered every wooden surface of the deck cracked and shattered into a fresh coat of snow. Howling winds fell to a whisper and a warm breeze swept through the deck, as if it had all been a bad dream.
Dark clouds loomed overhead, but the storm did not touch the Dragon’s Hoard. It was as if they sailed in the eye of the storm, untouched by the chilling destruction roiling over the Dire River.
“Stryg…?” Tauri called out hesitantly.
“I’m here,” he replied and walked over to where she had taken cover under a few crates, but his legs failed him and he stumbled.
Gale rushed to his side, catching him before he fell. She staggered back a step from his sheer weight slamming into her, but she found her footing and hoisted him back up. “I’ve got you.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled, suddenly feeling sleepy.
“Don’t push yourself,” Gale brought him slowly to the ground and let his back rest on the main mast.
“Is it over?” Freya shouted from atop the crow’s nest.
“Did you do this, Stryg?” Callum asked, looking around in awe.
Nora leaned over the railing and watched the churning waves swirling around the ship, it reminded her of a shark circling its prey. “How are you doing this, Stryg? And how long can you keep it up?”
“I… I don’t… know,” his voice grew faint and his head slumped over.
“Stryg…?” Gale frowned. “Stryg!”
Tauri hurried over to Stryg’s side as quickly as her stiff legs allowed. Leaning down, she touched his forehead with the back of her hand. “He’s freezing.”
“Do something,” Gale said, panic rising in her voice.
“I’m trying.” Tauri conjured a small ball of fire and held it over him.
Stryg’s eyes had glazed over and his every breath came out in cold wisps. “I’m… fine.”
Gale sighed in relief at the sound of his voice. “No, you’re clearly not. We need to warm you up.” She removed his shirt, but was surprised, the shirt was dry. “It’s not his clothes… It’s him.”
“It’s hypothermia. Caused by his own chaos,” Belle said, coming closer.
“Explain,” Gale said tersely.
“Chromatic and even most elemental mana generate heat the more one converts the ethereal energy into a physical form; spellcasting. But elemental chaos is different. The more one uses chaos, the more heat is sapped away,” Belle said.
“So it’s like mana burnout but the opposite?” Tauri asked.
“Yes, but I’ve never seen this bad before. He must have used an incredible amount of chaotic energy. His body wasn’t ready for it,” Belle noted.
“How do we fix it?” Gale growled impatiently.
“It’s not that simple. The chill is coming from inside him.” Belle gestured to Tauri’s flaming orb, “That will only warm his skin at best.”
“Just like mana burnout.” Tauri furrowed her brow. “The body burns from within; throwing the mage in the ice bath will only do so much.”
“It’s still something.” Gale rushed over to a crate, cracked it open, and threw out its contents. Dragging the crate over, she carefully lifted Stryg and placed him inside. Channeling Blue, she filled the crate with water. “Tauri, fire, now.”
Tauri nodded in understanding and held the orb of fire above the crate’s water. It didn’t take long before it started to steam.
“Hah! I knew we could do it!” Freya yelled in excitement as she came down from the helm. “Stryg? Shit, what happened to him?”
“He’s in hypothermic shock,” Belle said.
“We’re trying to keep him warm,” Tauri said as she kept increasing her flame’s potency. The water was already boiling.
Gale touched Stryg’s neck and frowned. “It isn’t working.”
“It makes sense,” Belle said, expression grim. “Stryg is a titan. His body can handle extreme temperatures without much difficulty. For him to be in this state, he must be generating an incredible amount of inner cold. Boiling water won’t do much.”
“Well, what else are we supposed to do? We can’t bathe him in fire, he’ll burn,” Gale said in frustration.
“I’m thinking.” Belle wrinkled her brow.
“Can a healing spell help?” Callum asked.
“No, healing magic won’t do anything… But maybe his own magic can.” Belle’s face lit with an idea. “Stryg, cast as much chromatic magic as you can. Throw it all at the sky, whatever you can.”
Stryg nodded faintly and lifted his arm out of the water, pointing it upwards. After a long moment, nothing happened. “I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t?” Tauri asked.
“I can’t gather enough chromatic mana. It just keeps dissipating,” Stryg muttered.
“Someone find Beatrix. She’s a True Blue. Maybe she can help,” Gale said.
“On it.” Callum nodded and ran off.
“Maybe I can help,” Freya said, more to herself than anyone, though every head turned to look at her.
“How?” Gale asked.
Freya held up her golden hammer. “I don’t know if it’ll work.”
“I’m willing to try anything,” Gale said.
“Please.” Tauri released her flame spell and stepped aside.
Freya drew closer and with a slow, measured movement, she placed the hammer’s face on Stryg’s chest. The hammer’s head was made of a polished silver-gold. Freya closed her eyes and whispered, “Now or never, Oginum.”
The countless arcane etchings across the hammer began to glow with an inner golden light. It started as a simple glow, then it flared to life, a golden blaze that lit up the deck, banishing the shadows of the night. Sparks of golden light rained down from the hammer and sank into Stryg’s chest, sending ripples through his blue skin.
At first, Stryg winced, but then he let out a sigh of relief as more sparks fell on him. “It’s warm,” he whispered.
Freya smiled. “It’s the Light of the North.”
“Oginum glows to inspire hope where it has been lost,” Tauri recited the famed words of House Goldelm’s war hammer.
“Think you can hold off the storm until we’re well and far outside it?” Belle asked.
Stryg raised his hand out of the water and stared at the silver scar across his palm. “I think so…”
~~~
Fifty leagues downriver, the Sylvan fleet of ships sailed unobstructed by weather or man. They had stopped only once a few hours ago to meet with a small party of goblins from Evenfall that had arrived to join the fleet. Among them was the high priestess of the Celestial Shrine herself, the Silver Mother Virella.
Silver Mother Silvana had carried her out of Lunis when the city fell. Now, 300 years later, Lunae found it only fitting that the new Silver Mother was by her side when they retook the city. And retake it they would.
The frozen fleet sailed down the river with a focus and zeal that had never been seen by the goblins of Vulture Woods. They were going to war to reclaim that which had been taken from their ancestors. Whatever ship was unfortunate enough to cross paths with their fleet was shoved to the side by massive waves. Any Murkton merchant ships were quickly capsized and dragged to the bottom of the river.
A few Murkton warships had been guarding their merchant vessels, but they had fallen quickly. For the Sylvan fleet was carved from enchanted ice forged by the Mother Moon. There were no sails, each ship was hauled by the river’s current and the power of a goddess. There were none who could oppose their coming, nor any who could follow.
Or so Lunae thought. She was standing at the helm of her warship, her sight focused on the horizon and what lay beyond, when a sharp burning pain seared across her hand. She winced, looked down, and froze at the sight. A dark grey scar stretched across her silver palm. “No, no. It’s not possible. The bond was broken,” she whispered in a trembling voice.
“Your divine majesty?” the Silver Mother asked from a few paces behind her. “Is something wrong?”
“...How well acquainted are you with Sigte?” Lunae asked, her gaze not leaving the scar on her palm.
“The ritual?” Virella cocked her head to the side.
“Mm.”
“Well, the Sigte was an ancient ritual, only to be performed by a very few select individuals of great power. Some acolytes believe it was a simple promise of loyalty, but I’ve records in the Celestial Shrine’s library that suggest it was a magical bond in nature.”
“You would be correct in that assumption. Tell me more.”
Virella beamed at Lunae’s approval. “The Sigte bond was said to be handed down to the Lunar Elects by the black and white wolves of dusk. The moon and the sun. You and Solis taught our people the Sigte,” Virella noted, uncertain of how to continue after mentioning the long-dead sun god.
“And what happened to this Sigte?”
“It was said to carry great risks, even after the ritual was completed. Which is why it was deemed forbidden by… you, after the fall of Lunis.”
“Yes.” Lunae scoffed, a small bittersweet crossing her lips. “Do you know why I forbade the ritual? The risks involved?”
“Not precisely,” Virella answered weakly. If this was a test, she had clearly failed it.
“No need to feel guilty. Detailed records regarding Sigte were destroyed long ago by your predecessors.”
“I see.” Virella sighed in relief. “May I ask then why you forbade the ritual?”
“It was because the bond Sigte formed allowed for many things to cross over between both individuals. Such as power, one’s own lifespan, or even…” Lunae stared at her open palm and slowly closed her fist. “Pain. My brother, at the very end of his life, broke the Sigte bond between him and me. The backlash of that shattering almost destroyed me, but it would have been worse had the bond remained. You see, if one half were to die, the other half would experience the full extent of that death.”
Virella’s expression darkened in understanding. “The other half wouldn’t survive. Both individuals would die.”
“...Yes.” Lunae closed her eyes and took a shaky breath. “Tell me, Virella. If you were immortal and held the power of a goddess, and you loved someone so much that you’d rather die than watch them die from old age, disease, or conflict, would you form a Sigte bond with them?”
“Yes, I would, in a heartbeat.”
“Why?”
“If I can’t live without this loved one, then if they died I wouldn’t care if the Sigte bond killed me. And since I’m an immortal goddess, there would be no risk of my own death and the bond killing them either. I see no downside.”
“Hm. Let’s say you make the bond. Now, what if you suddenly became aware of a very real threat to your life, what then? If your possible death meant the death of your bonded, would you break your bond?”
“My death isn’t a certainty?”
“No, but the threat is real. And it is a threat you cannot evade, not forever. It would find you, one way or another. Whether you’d survive the encounter is unknown.”
Virella glanced up at the night sky and the moon hanging over them, deep in thought. She imagined Solis and what he had done to Lunae. Had the pain of that loss still haunted Lunae to this day? Was the Mother Moon searching for some sort of justification for her brother’s actions? “If I knew I was going to possibly die very soon, and if I could not guarantee my own survival, I suppose I would break the Sigte bond.”
“Even if it meant hurting the person you loved most?” Lunae asked quietly. “Even if breaking the bond would fracture their mind? Could you look them in the eye as they cried and begged you not to do it? See the confusion and pain in their gaze? Could you hold their hand as they forgot you? Forgot what it meant to be loved? Watch as they came to believe that they were never worthy of love to begin with? Could you do it then?”
“I… If I knew I was going to die, I’d have no choice.”
“But that’s just it. You don’t know. There is only the threat. A relentless enemy that desires nothing more than to hurt you. Should you break the Sigte bond?” Lunae sighed bitterly, “Or should you have fought? Held your ground and fought to your very last breath to protect the one you loved?”
Virella chose her words carefully. “I think either way, I would be protecting the one I loved. But I believe Solis didn’t wish to harm you. I think he wanted you to live, your majesty.”
Lunae shook her head. “What if it was all for naught?”
“Pardon?”
“What if you broke the bond, but it survived anyway? What if you inflicted all that pain and suffering, yet somehow the bond survived?”
“I… I don’t understand,” Virella admitted.
“It means the one you love is still in grave danger. It means you failed and hurt the one person you were supposed to protect.”
