The ritual was not a simple succession of words. It was a mindset. Years of study, weeks of preparation, months of living by the same set of unbending rules; no mistakes, no second-guessing. Holding on to faith was the most important part. Faith feeds the ritual; without it, all the magic in the world could not have helped me.

Mine only faltered a few times.

The process was long and confusing. Torturous by design. You have to compare different ancient texts and try to figure out which ones are lying to you. It's a science like any other, full of trial and error, but unlike most sciences, there's no leniency and feedback. Nursed the wrong thought? Made a mistake laying out the candles? Sometimes it's not even your fault. No pronunciation guide for the incantation? Mistranslated plant name in the texts? It will be half a year until you realize you've messed up somewhere. Have fun.

I kept it up for months, and what surprised me the most was how easily my life molded to its requirements. I fell into a routine, waking up at a certain time, drawing a sigil, uttering an incantation, going down the daily checklist day after day after day; after a few weeks of this, I began to understand. The ritual wasn't in what I did, but in what it made me into--an instrument with a rhythmic beat, a lonely string of notes in a silent orchestra, a harmony waiting for a melody. For it, I became as music.

Keep up the ritual for long enough, and even the doubt stops mattering. Maybe I'd fail. Maybe not. So what? I didn't care either way; I was already changed. I already sang its praises with my breath. What did success even matter?

But success did come.

On the seventy-ninth day, when I drew the sigil and read the words, a cloud of acrid smoke filled my bedroom. In its midst, sitting on an invisible throne, I saw Him, vast and impossible, exact, an angel of clockwork and motor oil. I dipped my thumb into the inkwell and pressed it to His smouldering forehead, and for a moment, everything burned--but then He bowed His head and spoke.

"You carry the mark. What would you have of me?"

My heart swelled with pride.

Finally, I thought.

Someone to play Dungeons and Dragons with.