[[Hi I wrote another thing.]]
The time was 8:45 pm. Since returning to the Glornch from retrieving the corpse of Dawn the janitor with Shep, The Most Reverend Bishop Percival had spent the entire day locked away in his ritual chamber preparing the body for an offering to Glorn.
The priestess Miriam stood outside the entrance of this chamber, a covered bowl of soup in her hands. She firmly knocked on the chamber’s large steel door.
“Your excellency… It is Miriam. Have you eaten today?”
She didn’t get a response. She tried again, this time pounding her fist against the door so hard it rattled.
“If you don’t open this door I’ll melt it down into a funnel and use it to force this soup down your throat.”
After a moment, the bishop finally creaked the door open, a scowl on his face. “I don’t want your rancid soup, Eyelash! I’m freaking busy!”
Miriam forced the door open further and pushed her way past Percival into the chamber despite the bishop’s objections. She quickly spotted the lifeless severed eyeball that was once the head of Dawn. it rested atop a stone pedestal in the center of the chamber. Miriam quickly turned to Percival to shove the bowl of soup into his hands before approaching the pedestal to get a better look.
“Such beauty… Surely this will make a glorious gift to Glorn.” Miriam took hold of the eyeball and brought it up to her own forehead. She closed her eye and murmured a prayer. “And may Mother’s Eye accept back Her vision lest She lose sight of this child…”
“Ew! Hey! Put that down!” Percival looked around for a surface to set the soup bowl down on, deciding on a nearby potion shelf. He then marched toward Miriam and snatched the eyeball from her hands and set it back in place on the pedestal.
“You’re gonna ruin the potency of my offering to Glorn with your soppy prayers to lesser gods!” he protested.
The priestess leered at the Bishop and growled “I’ve told you time and time again. Mother’s Eye is no lesser god. She is merely dormant.”
Percival rolled his eye and folded his arms. “Right, right…” He took a step back. “Well, you’ve barged your way in here and delivered your soup. Can you go now?”
Miriam looked back at the bowl on the shelf. “You aren’t going to eat it, are you?”
“No.” Percival flatly replied.
Miriam stood still for a moment, then returned her attention to the severed eyeball on the pedestal.
“...Percival… I would like to hear it from you. You wish to transform yourself into a demon, yes?”
Percy warily narrowed his eye. “Two-Eyes ratted me out to you, did he?”
Miriam shook her head. “Not entirely. I was listening in on your guys’ squabble when he had returned from Lapilli. Besides…” She brought one of her hands up to her face and looked at Percy through the gaps of her fingers. “You should know by now I’m attuned to changes in magical energy. I can feel you slowly growing with power. Demonic power. So of course it was only a matter of time before I figured you out.” She lowered her hand and pointed it behind her at the soup. “You’re so far along you’re starting to shed mortal necessities like eating, aren’t you…”
Bishop Percival let out a long sigh. “Maybe. OR maybe it’s just that I can’t stand your nasty cooking any more! Haha!”
Miriam didn’t laugh.
“... Either way,” the Bishop folded his arms, “What exactly do you plan to do with this information?”
“Nothing…” Miriam stated as she bowed deeply with reverence “...Except to lend you my full support as your faithful servant. Your goal of demonic ascension is an admirable one. Whatever you need of me, I will provide. I owe it to you, after all.”
Percival widened his eye with surprise. He was expecting her usual ‘as long as it doesn't bug me I don’t care’ attitude. Receiving Miriam’s active support was rare.
He smiled. “Y’know Eyelash, this is what separates you from that sniveling brother of yours. Your faith is in me while he clings pathetically to the church and the Hater Empire, too blind to see beyond it.” Percival thrusted his arms up into the air. “And for that, you best believe I will reward you handsomely once I transmute into a magnificent, all-powerful beast of pure evil! Hehehahahaha!”
Miram slowly straightened back up. “Do you have plans yet for your ascension? Any specific ritual or method you have in mind?”
Percival lowered his arms and leaned against the pedestal. He idly tapped his fingers on Dawn’s severed head. “I think the best way to go about this is a classic Oswin Invocation ritual. I have a good standing with ol’ Ossy.” He smiled widely. “It’s the one who originally granted me magical capabilities. If I demonstrate to it the immense power I’ve gained since then, I believe it’ll be impressed enough to grant me access to the demonic realm!”
Miriam nodded. “Very well.” She then bowed once again. “I will gladly be the vessel in which you invoke Oswin into.”
The bishop rubbed the back of his head and chuckled awkwardly. “Oh, uh… well actually, I’m already planning for Shep to be the vessel!”
Miriam shot back up, wide-eyed. “HUH? Shep?” She stammered a bit. “Why Shep!? Their puny pathetic body probably won’t even be strong enough to host such a high-leveled deity like Oswin!”
“Oh calm down,” Percival patted the eyeball. “I’m testing his capabilities right now. If I’m not satisfied then, sure, I’ll ask you to do it. In the meantime, my plan is for Lamb and I will hear no more if ands or buts from ya!”
The priestess shot Percy a deadpan glare before finally stating “As you wish. You know what you’re doing, I suppose.”
She turned to make her leave, picking up the bowl of soup on her way out. “Keep me updated” she said as she slipped out the door and firmly closed it behind her.
When she turned around from closing the door, she came face-to-face with her brother Mike, who was quietly lurking in the corridor during that discussion. Miriam wasn’t surprised. She knew he was there.
Mike spoke quietly and with urgency. “Mir, I’m begging you. Please don’t-” He was interrupted by his sister shoving the bowl of soup into his hands now.
“Eat this. I don’t want it to go to waste” she commanded before quickly pacing away. Mike was going to shout after her but didn’t want to be heard by Bishop Percival. By the time he tried to walk after her, she was too far away to effectively catch up.
Reverend Mike sighed and looked down at the soup. He finally departed on his own way back to his room to eat.
