<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family:Open Sans">Cygnus thought he could withstand more. Altair didn't think it possible, but he'd never pushed his body to such extremes before. Truthfully, he had no idea what he could withstand, and he didn't want to find out just how far his body could be pushed. Altair hadn't complained about the physical aspect. He'd endured, and he grieved for the ugliness that now marked his body, which was far worse than the pain. Cygnus likely didn't understand the difference because he had no idea what this would mean for Altair if he ever returned home to Dusan. He would never secure a proper master with such marks.<br/>
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The sudden lurch of the ship gave him reprieve, at least momentarily, and with Cygnus gone, Altair took it as a sign that he should pray. He was feeling low, had been wishing for Cygnus to tighten the hold on his throat and end him, and he felt guilt as a result. He prostrated himself, putting his forehead to the floor, calling upon his goddess, and anyone who would hear him. He'd not forsaken her, but in moments of weakness it was not uncommon to seek guidance elsewhere. As exhausted as he was, he prayed for a long time, even as he was jostled around with the harsh snapping of the ship. He stayed put though, hardly able to sleep with the violent thrashing of the ship. He could hear those on deck, shouting to one another as they struggled through what could only be a storm. Since Altair couldn't sleep, he continued to pray. For the vessel to make it intact, and for the crew to make it so that he might see land. Cygnus even, because he had no idea what sort of disarray would result in a ships loss of a captain. It was not Altair's time to seek vengeance. He was not stupid, but he certainly didn't know how to captain a ship, and if anyone else did besides Cygnus himself.<br/>
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No one paid him any sort of attention, even when the rocking calmed, and he finally found some sleep. Footsteps woke him only because they belonged to Cygnus himself, and Altair sat upright to meet his eyes a moment.<br/>
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“Do you think it was my goddess that answered me last night, or your own? Maybe neither. Maybe your sea god was testing you, and you failed him. What did you call him again? You might pray for forgiveness, lest he forsake you for a follower more worthy,” Altair spoke, words even, less fearful now that he felt someone had given him a sign that they were listening to him.<br/>
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“I prayed for you, that whoever was listening might forgive you, at least for a time. I am not so spiteful as you that I would wish to sink this ship with the both of us on it, though it was a tempting thought. Did all of your crew make it? I asked that there remained enough to be functional, no more no less,” Altair questioned, curious. He was perspiring lightly, a hint of the pain he was in despite having found some strength to go on. He didn't care if Cygnus beat him for it. Someone had answered his pleas, and there was nothing so strong as faith.</span></span>