Gray's Self-Inserty Messes

Ritual (OC story)

Disclaimer, this was literally a school assignment so it's short. And a little just...eh. Not canon to Crow's lore, methinks.

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The feather sat on the desk, green and brown aside from the brilliant bright blue eye-shaped circle that distinguished it as a peacock feather. Crow, however, knew it was no ordinary peacock feather. Just looking at it caused a chill to run up their spine, for the great amount of power seeped through it. Easily recognizable as magically charged, even to the non-magically inclined. There is a reason, after all, that even a typical human stares into the eye of the feather. It is watching. Judging. Waiting.

Primo walks into the room. The silence is only broken by the shifting of his papal robes and the tap of his shoes on the wooden floorboards. He lights a black candle. It smells like the woods after a storm. He opens the window. A cold breeze drifts in, yet the candle flame does not move. He looks at Crow, mismatched eyes Pierce through their soul. Primo raises his dark gloved hand, gently touching their shoulder.

"Per Aspera Ad Inferi, Surges, et cades; vita per te portat." Primo's voice is quiet, but commanding. "Do you accept this?"

Crow nods. "Yes, paratus sum." At least, they felt ready, anyway. They hoped they really were, and that the pit in their stomach was a good thing.

"Good. Do you take Satan into your body, blood, and spirit?"

"Yes, paratus sum."

"And do you wash away all that does not serve you and the Dark One?"

"Yes, paratus sum."

"And do you understand that by doing this, you are forever tied to Him?"

"Yes, paratus sum."

Primo turns, and grabs the feather. The eye watches, unblinking. Crow tries not to look.

"If you are ready, Archbishop Crow," Primo says, "He will take you. Are you sure you are ready?"

The silence is deafening. Crow almost forgets how to speak, as the tension and excitement constricts their chest. This was the next step. The ritual to finally become Cardinal, like Copia. Like Vitus. They wanted to devote themself, and this... this was it.

"Yes, Papa Emeritus."

The eye is pressed to their head, and a surge of fire and courses through them. Their muscles burst, bones break, they scream. They scream until their throat feels like it's bleeding.

And then, just as quickly as it began, it was over, and Crow sank to their hands and knees, nearly getting sick. They felt Primo's hand on their back. Gentle. Soothing. So, so needed. Neither of them said a word. Nothing needed to be said. Primo's touch was of pride and care, and Crow's quiet sobs were a mix of joy and gratefulness behind the pain. It was over. They were a Cardinal.