As the soft morning light filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor, the companions stirred from their slumber to the aroma of sizzling meat. Astor stood before a crackling fire, tending to the grill with practiced ease. His companions approached, their stomachs growling in anticipation as they caught sight of the savory feast.

"Good morning, everyone," Astor greeted them with a warm smile, his eyes bright with energy. "I hope you all slept well. Breakfast is served."

With a flourish, Astor gestured towards the grill, where skewers of freshly cooked strider meat sizzled tantalizingly over the flames. The aroma wafted through the air, eliciting hungry murmurs from his companions as they gathered around the makeshift table.

As they settled down to eat, Astor's gaze swept over each of them in turn, his expression thoughtful yet determined. "Before we continue our journey, there is something important I must share with you all," he began, his tone serious yet tinged with excitement.

"During my time alone last night, I took the opportunity to create something special for each of you," Astor continued, his eyes alight with anticipation. "I have crafted sigils tailored to your individual strengths and abilities, imbued with elemental energy to aid you on our quest."

The companions exchanged curious glances, their interest piqued by Astor's revelation. They had heard of sigils before, but the prospect of receiving their own bespoke creations filled them with a sense of anticipation.

"Each sigil is unique, designed to enhance your natural talents and empower you in ways you never thought possible," Astor explained, his voice filled with conviction. "But remember, with great power comes great responsibility. These sigils are a reflection of your potential, and it is up to you to wield them wisely. But before that, I think we should eat first, I can see the hunger in your eyes."

Everyone nodded spontaneously.

As they watched Astor, a sense of calm seemed to radiate from him, enveloping the group in a comforting embrace. Despite the trials they had faced the night before, his demeanor remained serene, his movements fluid and purposeful as he tended to the grill.

Darian couldn't help but marvel at the transformation. Just hours ago, they had been locked in a life-or-death struggle against the relentless striders, their survival hanging in the balance. And yet here they were now, gathered around a simple meal, with Astor at the center, his presence a source of reassurance and stability.

Lucien, ever observant, noted the subtle shift in Astor's aura. There was a quiet strength to him, a sense of inner peace that seemed to anchor him amidst the chaos of their surroundings. It was as if he had tapped into a reservoir of tranquility, drawing strength from the very depths of his being.

As they ate, the tension of the previous night slowly began to fade, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and companionship. Each bite of strider meat was savored, a reminder of their resilience in the face of adversity and the bonds that united them as a team.

Fin couldn't help but smile as he watched Astor, his features relaxed and open. It was rare to see their leader so at ease, his usual air of stoicism giving way to a quiet sense of contentment. In that moment, Fin felt a surge of gratitude towards Astor, recognizing the sacrifices he had made for their sake and the unwavering dedication with which he led them.

As the morning sun rose higher in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the forest clearing, the companions found themselves filled with a renewed sense of purpose. With Astor by their side, they knew they could face whatever challenges lay ahead, confident in their ability to overcome them together.

As the meal drew to a close, Astor gathered his companions around him once more, his expression earnest and focused. With a subtle nod, he indicated towards Darian, silently inviting him to be the first to receive his sigil.

Darian hesitated for a moment, glancing around at his companions with a mixture of apprehension and determination. "Does it hurt?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Astor met his gaze with a solemn nod. "Yes," he admitted, his tone grave. "It will hurt. But it's a pain that fades, replaced by something greater."

Despite the warning, a sense of reluctance hung in the air as the group exchanged uneasy glances. No one seemed eager to volunteer, each one grappling with their own fears and doubts.

Finally, Darian took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. With a resolute nod, he stepped forward, offering his shoulder to Astor.

As the first light of dawn filtered through the canopy, Astor stood before Darian, his eyes focused and hands steady. With a sense of purpose that seemed to permeate the air around them, he prepared to imprint the sigil onto Darian's shoulder.

With a practiced motion, Astor drew forth the gaseous ink, its ethereal form swirling and dancing like wisps of smoke in the morning air. Each tendril of ink seemed to pulsate with a life of its own, as if imbued with the very essence of fire itself.

As Darian bared his shoulder, his muscles tense with anticipation, Astor hovered the gaseous ink over his skin, the tendrils reaching out like eager tendrils seeking purchase. With a steady hand, Astor began to inscribe the intricate sigil onto Darian's flesh, each movement deliberate and precise.

The ink flowed smoothly from Astor's fingertips, tracing intricate patterns that seemed to dance and shift with a fluid grace. With each stroke, Darian felt a tingling sensation spread across his skin, a sensation that was both exhilarating and disconcerting in equal measure.

As the sigil began to take shape, Darian's breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening in awe and wonder. The intricate design seemed to shimmer and glow with an otherworldly light, its power tangible even to the naked eye.

Yet, beneath the surface, Darian could feel something stirring within him, a surge of energy that seemed to course through his veins like a wildfire unleashed. It was a sensation unlike anything he had ever experienced, both exhilarating and terrifying in its intensity.

Through gritted teeth, Darian fought to suppress the pain that threatened to overwhelm him, his muscles tensing with the effort. But even as he struggled, he could sense a transformation taking place, a shift in his very being that heralded the dawn of a new chapter in his journey.

And as Astor completed the sigil, the gaseous ink fading into his skin like a phantom memory, Darian knew that he had been forever changed. With a sense of awe and reverence, he gazed upon the sigil that now adorned his shoulder, a symbol of the trials he had endured and the strength he had discovered within himself.