[h3]Three Weeks Prior[/h3]

Flickering candles in the small office leaned as a white-robed man entered. The elder sitting at the desk looked up to the newcomer, who silently nodded. The elder understood, wordlessly rising and following the robed man out of the office.

The preparations for the ritual had taken some time. Everything needed to be perfect if they were to perform a miracle, and a miracle was exactly what they needed. Sacrifices had always been necessary since the dawn of time, but the Cult of the Lord's Light had too much riding on this ritual to allow the sacrifices to be in vain. God's love was with them, but love was no substitute for hard work.

The elder entered the room where the ritual would take place and made his way to the head of the room. The robed man joined the ranks of other similarly-dressed cultists. All stood at rapt attention, waiting for the elder to speak.

"Today," he began, his voice quavering from age, "our Order begins a new era. With this Miracle, we shall empower our High Reverend, Mister Billy Jameson, to spread the light of our Lord in even the deepest of shadows. We shall shine light where the Church seeks to hide it, and we shall give glory to His name forevermore. Rejoice, as through your sacrifice, the world will be saved. Go with love like His son, and know peace everlasting, hallelujah."

The room shook as the cultists gathered responded with a resounding "AMEN!" Five black-robed cultists standing around the inscription to be used for the ritual began chanting as the white-robed cultists began passing a ceremonial dagger through their ranks. One by one they yelled an impassioned "Deus vult!" before driving the knife into their throats. The inscription between the chanters glowed brighter with each sacrifice.

At last, the knife made its way to the elder. Before sacrificing himself, he turned to face Billy Jameson. "Child, may God's grace protect you in the heathen lands. There is no telling what atrocities await you at the hands of both them and the Church."

"Rest easy, Father," Billy responded gently. "God is on our side. We shall meet again with the Rapture."

"That we shall, Child. Deus vult!"

Billy bent to retrieve the knife, wiping the blade clean on the elder's clothes. With it, the strode to the ritual inscription, stopping three steps from the center. He held his hands out before him, then drew the silvery blade across his left palm. Blood pooled in his hand as he recited the words he'd been given, finishing the lines just as blood began to drip out of his hand and onto the inscription.

The inscription reacted immediately. The glow stopped, then red light began to spread from where Billy's blood had fallen. The prana collected flowed through the inscription, powering the spell. The chanting cultists stopped and left the room, leaving Billy alone with the inscription and several hundred cultist corpses.

In a brilliant flash, the ritual came to completion. Before Billy stood a completely unfamiliar man with rough features and a noticeable smell. Billy quickly looked him over and, before he had a chance to say anything, asked him, "Say, what's with those slanty eyes?"

[@IncredibleBee]