It was happening. The pulsing egg abruptly pulled Cire's focus away from his thoughts. His heart raced with anxiety and eagerness to discover what creature would emerge. A new realization dawned on him—he was growing fond of this mysterious world unfolding before his eyes. Curiosity pushed him forward, a burning desire to learn and solve the enigmas around him.
The egg had been silent for weeks, but now it pulsed with life, faint cracks appearing across its smooth, opalescent surface. Cire had speculated on what kind of creature might hatch. He was sure it had to be a Sigil; the way the egg radiated Virtus the first time he saw it confirmed this. 'But what Sigil?'
He knew of a few. The first possibility filled him with dread: the Locked Sigil—a monstrous creature he had seen from afar during his early ventures into the forest. 'Could this egg belong to a hatchling of that beast?' His chest tightened at the thought. The second possibility seemed less dire but still daunting: perhaps it was the egg of a creature defeated by that same Sigil and the wolves.
The egg trembled in his hands, the smooth surface pulsing like a heartbeat. A gentle hum resonated within his chest, growing louder with each passing second. He tightened his grip, cradling it like a fragile treasure. Then, the first crack widened into a fissure, releasing a dense, purplish mist that swirled around him. The air shifted, both hot and cold at once, tingling with energy. It was comforting and exhilarating as if it carried the weight of a long-forgotten memory.
The egg fractured further, and from its depths, a creature emerged, landing softly in Cire's palm. It was unlike anything he had imagined—not solid, yet not formless. Its body shimmered like liquid light, constantly shifting shapes. For a moment, it resembled a tiny bird with delicate wings. Then, he felt a paw pressing against his palm. Finally, it transformed into an ethereal being of pure light, its translucent body appearing to hold a thousand stars. At its core was a faintly glowing heart, its pulse perfectly in rhythm with Cire's.
The creature released a soft, melodic hum—a harmony that resonated deep within Cire's soul. Its touch was cool and warm, like a breeze carrying forgotten whispers of home. For a moment, he thought of his family, huddled together by the fire on freezing nights. The creature floated before him, tilting as if studying him with curiosity. Its ever-shifting form reflected the awe and wonder etched into his face.
Then it spoke—not in words, but in emotions, colors, and sensations. Its presence filled Cire's mind and heart with a connection he had never known. He understood, without explanation, that this creature was bound to him, tied by something far more significant than chance.
Overwhelmed, Cire tried to communicate. "What are you?" he asked softly.
The winged creature tilted its head, responding with a warm emotion—a gentle reassurance that resonated within him. It didn't answer the question, but Cire felt certain: this Sigil was his and alone.
He frowned thoughtfully. "Do you know what you are?" This time, a black, oily sensation filled his mind, accompanied by a faint emotion of disgust.
"So, you don't know. Are you able to control Virtus?"
In response, a sudden surge of raw, unfiltered Virtus coursed through his body, leaving him invigorated. Cire gasped. "That's… incredible. You can give me Virtus instantly! This will cut my meditation time in half." Excitement flickered in his voice, but then he paused, feeling a pang of guilt. He glanced at the creature, realizing he had not addressed it properly. "Are you… male?"
Another wave of disgust—black and sharp.
"So, you're female?" Cire asked hesitantly. This time, his mind was filled with warm, golden hues and a flood of joy. He smiled. "Alright. Then what's your name, miss?"
A sensation of doubt and anxiety, painted in soft gray, touched his mind.
"Don't worry," Cire said gently, stroking the top of her head with a single finger. "I'll find the perfect name for you. What about… Nymera?"
The wave of disgust returned with such force that Cire had to cover his mouth to keep from retching. "Okay, okay! I'm sorry! Let me think… Byru? How about Byru?"
An explosion of warm colors and joyful emotions filled his mind, and a harmonious hum resonated in his soul. Byru glowed brightly, sending a surge of Virtus into Cire's body. His chest burned fiercely. He pulled at his shirt, eyes widening as a searing pain flared across his skin. A mark began to etch itself into his flesh—hollow, seven-pointed stars surrounded by spiraling arcs. The shimmering pattern shifted subtly, glowing faintly with a mirror-like surface. The pain subsided, leaving the mark gleaming on his chest.
Suddenly, the wooden door slammed open with a loud crack.
"Boy, it's almost dark. Why in the name of Desire have you not gone hunting?"
Praesul's commanding voice filled the room. The masked man stepped inside, his glowing purple eyes narrowing as he took in the scene before him: a young man, shirtless, with a strange creature flapping its wings in the dim light.
Cire looked up sheepishly. "You see… the egg hatched.