Intricate markings marred the earth with their twists and curves, each line had been carved with great care and precision; no mistakes could be allowed with such a thing. The slightest deviation of a line would change the very meaning of the ritual circle, hence Thrag ensured both ritual circles had no mistakes multiple times.

The First Priest's eyes slowly opened before his work, taking in the sight that lay before him, taking in the world around him. No words left his mouth, he simply appreciated the purple that coloured his surroundings, which would one day colour the whole world. And for that, he would need to do his part of the lifting, as would the acolytes.

The small group of goblins, dressed in black robes, were a bubble of excitement and nervousness, Thrag couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle, the same emotions had plagued him moments before. Now only excitement pulsed through his veins, this was going to be the first ritual he would carry out for his Lord. Once he took this step, there wouldn't be any turning back, but that did little to affect the priest's belief. He trusted his Lord with his entire being.

The grand but mysterious expression the First Priest held calmed the nerves of the acolytes, slowly filling them with the same great sense of purpose. A purpose that would be fulfilled today.

"Let us begin"

Despite the soft words being no louder than a whisper, the robed goblins sprung into action, each moving with conviction. They all had been assigned tasks before the ritual circle itself had been etched out, Thrag had planned for efficiency and precision. He had already taken his place between the overlap of the two circles, awaiting the important part of the ritual.

The sacrifices.

As if on cue, Karluk, the youngest among the acolytes, returned with a dirt-ridden woman, bereft of any clothing or emotions. Her brown hair, which had once cascaded past her shoulders, was unlike its former self; messy and unwashed. The result of two days of capture with no way to cleanse herself, though her dead eyes said they couldn't care less about their cleanliness. A hollow of her former self, the joy of life had been torn out of her by the First Priest's ordaining words. Her daughter would be sacrificed to an evil entity along with her, a child birthed only a few days prior, this was the fate that had been decided for her.

Upon seeing the first sacrifice, Thrag couldn't help but recall her existence, she was, after all, a special one. Being one of the last to be captured, the priest naturally believed that she would be one of the last ones to break but contrary to his expectations, the first to give up was this woman. But this wasn't what made her special, unlike the others who clung to life even though they held no hope in their heart, this woman seemed to have long given up her leash on life. She didn't attempt to escape from death nor did she rush towards it, she just waited. Waited for death to take hold of her soulless husk.

The wailing of the infant being carried towards the ritual circle didn't even move the woman, there wasn't even the faintest flicker of life or hope in the pools of emptiness that were her eyes. The source of her worries was so close to her, yet she was apathetic to the cries of a child wanting its mother. Thrag held back from laughing at the irony of this scene before him, right now, he needed to focus all his energy on the current task at hand.

With mother and daughter delivered to their respective circles, four acolytes moved to a different end of each ritual circle and began to channel their energies. Whilst this was happening, Thrag drew a thin line of blood on his palm with his clawed finger and pressed the same palm into the overlap of the circles. A powerful force seeped into the priest's hand, he could feel his hand being fixed into place before large volumes of blood began rushing out of the wound. The purple earth greedily sucked up the red nutrients, as it turned shades darker in the immediate area of Thrag's hand.

Seeing the changes occurring in the ground, the four goblins directed all their mana into the closest ritual circle; the many lines that made up the constructs began to glow with deep purple light. A few minutes passed with no other changes taking place, yet the priest could still feel his blood vessels being drained at a rapid rate, for a moment, panic slipped into his system. But it disappeared just as quickly as it appeared.

Both the draining and the hold on his hand came to a halt but his attention was drawn to the illusory chains digging into the woman's limbs and forehead. They hoisted her up into the air, leaving her spreadeagle and some of the goblins drooling, prompting Thrag to glare at them in displeasure. Avoiding eye contact with the priest, they all got back to their tasks immediately; from the information they had been provided with, this was the most pivotal part of the ritual.

"New life"

The atmosphere shifted instantly as soon as the first word had left the Thrag's lips, the air exploded with an influx of demonic and corruption energy. The sheer amount of the mixture bore down on all those present, exerting a weak yet uncomfortable pressure that took a moment or so to adapt to.

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"Shall perish"

An explosion of flesh and bone surprised those unprepared, as a transparent orb hovered over the infant's ritual circle. A viscous mixture of red and white occupied the child's place, and the endless wailing came to an end. The contents sloshed against the walls of the orb as Thrag continued with his words, apathetic to the child's gruesome fate.

"And from the remains, new life will emerge"

The soupy mixture coalesced around a single point within its container, slowly forming a pulsing ball. The ball grew larger and larger but then, to the shock of everyone present, it exploded back into the mixture of flesh and bone. The First Priest could only sigh, he had believed that as long as they followed the instructions to the tee, everything would run smoothly. Clearly, he had been too optimistic, but it was not the end. Once again, the child's remains gathered around a single point and reattempted the formation of the ball.

It failed.

Again.

And again.

And again.

The acolytes powering the ritual had already been exhausted and replaced when the ball held its shape not before contorting into its true form—a heart. Slightly smaller than the child from which it was formed, the heart was quite the sight. Blood poured out its openings every time it pulsated, as for where the blood was coming from, Thrag had no idea. All that mattered was that this step was complete and the next step needed to come. The corruption and demonic energy in the surroundings seemed to be getting restless, and the priest didn't want to find out what would happen if he delayed any longer.

"Repurposed to serve its mother for eternity"

As if drawn to a rare delicacy, the wild demonic energy and insidious corruption energy surged into the heart in tandem. Parts of the heart rapidly blackened whilst others were tainted purple, the two energies clashed for control over this new territory, neither side relenting. Their fierce battle tore through the heart's fibres, with microtears piling up on the surface and deep with, slowly pushing the heart closer to collapse. It could only contain this conflict for so long before the damage would become irreversible, leaving both invaders with no victory.

Luckily for the goblins and the heart, the two forces realised the toll their battle was taking on the object of their desire. Begrudgingly, a compromise was made, blackening the heart completely while neon purple lines streaked the heart's dark surface. Relief was glaringly obvious in the expressions of those present, this ritual was just too much for them. Roadblock after roadblock, each time their hearts reached their mouths, only for the worst outcome to never come to fruition in the end.

The tension on Thrag's face slowly melted away as his focus on the ritual was once again pushed to the maximum. Raising his hand towards the transformed heart, the priest searched deep within his own heart, this part of the ritual required something more than words that had been passed down. And so, he searched. Searched for the spark.

For days, he looked for even the slightest trace of inspiration, but his heart showed him nothing. It had nothing for him. But, he couldn't believe that there was something within this place, it was just hiding from him. A strange feeling, a premonition told him that he was closer than ever, there was only one more step for him to take. Just one step was all that it took.

A mere moment had passed in the outside world since the First Priest had entered his state of self-reflection. The acolytes continued with their tasks, though with great trepidation. Once again, the tension was being pumped around their bodies as they could only hope that their new teacher could achieve the realisation needed for the ritual to continue. As soon as this thought entered their minds, the air around them changed, it thickened. It felt heavy. Like they were in the presence of a being of great majesty. Bowing their heads was the only thing their bodies allowed them to do, but that didn't stop them from seeing the First Priest raise one of his hands from the corner of their eyes.

His eyes remained shut, his expression still one of focus, it was like he didn't even realise he was moving his arm. Once his palm was facing the blackness of the heart, the sound of cracks resonated through the air, along with the faces of the acolytes contorting with anguish as the air thickened further. A slithering pressure wrapped around every inch of their bodies, slowly squeezing the life out of them. It took them to the brink, gasping for breath, bleeding from every orifice, but it stopped there. Fate had not willed them to die today.

Thrag was apathetic to their plight, rather he was not aware of it, throughout the entirety of their ordeal, there wasn't any reaction to the sickening sounds of suffering.

Then everything froze.

"Return to the womb it shall"

"Mother and child shall become one"

"For eternity their two hearts will beat for one"

"The One who sees the secrets of the heart"

"The Lord of Corruption"

"..."

Bloodied eyes revealed themselves to the world as the hovering heart floated over to the chained woman, stopping just above her abdomen - her womb. It squirmed in the air as a force of attraction drew it towards her abdomen but a greater force affixed the heart to its position.

Despite his haggard state, Thrag pulled upon the remaining vestiges of strength within his body, just to turn himself to the final sequence of the ritual. He had to see it. Something told him that this ritual was different to how it was supposed to happen. Like losing control of one's body.

Those final words were not from Thrag, but from the entity that momentarily possessed his body. That was why the priest wanted to see the end of the ritual, something was different and he had a feeling that the sacrifice was the key to all of it.

Two pairs of eyes met. One pair widened upon seeing the change the other had undergone, they had regained their lustre.

The images his eyes were sending to his brain, part of him didn't want to believe them, but the truth was sitting right before. He couldn't do anything to refute it.

Swirling in the once vacant pools were longing and something else.

Peace.