Branded By The Spirits

CONTEXT
The timeline of this was after he left his village, leaving all he once loved.
This is the current headcanon for Corvus's connection to the Ancient One, some aspects are subject to change in the future

"YOU CAN'T HIDE FROM ME BOY"

The cryptic voice echoed throughout the spirit realm, the dim sun not enough to hide the wrath of the ancients. An intruder, a living intruder, is never taken lightly within the spirit's domain. The cursed lands were split, each region hosted by another ancient, and the living trespasser was in the territory of the biggest of them all. The young monkey ran as fast as he could, he was bruised and cut all over as he ran through anything and everything. Hiding in thorn bushes, falling down steep rocky cliffs, and tripping over his own terrified feet. Finally falling and quickly crawling behind a large, dead, leaning tree. His chest expanding and contrasting rapidly, trying to grasp at whatever air of breath he could grasp, clutching his hand to his chest as he rests for a moment. He dropped his precious spell book, so he mumbles to himself, trying to remember the spell to return to the living world. He stands up, and starts to calm his hands to begin the quick spell. As he does his beloved spellbook is dropped to his side

"Did you drop something you filthy scoundrel?"

He looked up, frozen still in pure terror. Above him was the spirit ridden divinity, no living eyes could comprehend the Ancient One. What the young spellcaster could see were sets of arms reaching out, two dominant and 3 coming from the back on each side. He could perceive the dark green color of them alongside rusted chains with a faint bright green aura. They wore a rope with many splits in it, dark, dark red in color. A hooded head with what felt like a million eyes piercing out, a large one in the middle, looking right to Corvus, seeing past the flesh and seeking to reap his soul. Corvus turned to run, picking up his book as he was raised in the air. Grabbed firmly by his tail and thrown up to be grasped and squeezed. He looked onward to the Ancient One, as the arms coming from his back summoned weapons and blades to slice his throat and spill his guts. He struggled against the ever tightening hand, eyes wide as the Ancient One taunted him, he lacked the will to recognize and translate the language used. As the might of a thousand slain blades rushed to him, his last attempt for life arose in the last breath he could muster to release.

"I yield, I Serve" he shouted in desperation.

The blades stopped right before his dark blue fur, some giving an unwanted haircut as he closed his eyes and braced for death. Slowly opening one right before the deity spoke.

"What did you say? You plead for your life faced to the blade? You offer to serve, what shall you provide for me?"

Corvus thought for a moment, "What in the living realm do you require? Whatever it may be, I shall bring it to you."

A dark laughter came from the deity, the weapons were pulled away. "My people starve, I starve." he brought his new living slave closer. "Bring me the magical energy from above, send it to me. Every 37 days I want you to bring me a feast. If not..." they laughed more.

"How may I send it? How shall i-" he was silenced.

"Servants don't speak back, they obey. Now take your book and LEAVE"

Corvus awoke in the swamp once more, laying in the center of the makeshift Bloonogram he made within the circle of trees. He looked about, his book was nearby. He reached for it as his hand stung and burned. The forest filled with the howling scream of the branded fool. A custom symbol chosen for him, branded to his book and forever burned to his hand.

They are always watching

They will always know your loyalties.

and They will always strike at your sins