The True Dark Tome provided a wealth of information on Dark magic, it was by the leagues better than Dark Tome he obtained from Vumbeldor. And he finally unlocked the uses of [Soul Steal] and [Reanimate]. In other words, he could raise undead; a terrible power.
But raising zombies, skeletons and undead creatures was never on his agenda, not quite, he had different intentions for the spells and souls obtained. For a longest while he was musing about how to replicate the feat demonstrated by the Great Ancestral Tree in its creation of Sprigans. Yes, he wanted to give the souls of Soul Well, a second chance at life.
Hence why, he and the spiders were carving the puppets out of IronOak trees. The tree was sturdier and harder than it had any right to be, making the process arduous and time-consuming. But what is time when you have a thousand spider crafters giving you a hand.
He was heavily inspired by the Sprigan design the Great Ancestral Tree had used.
Once the puppets were done he seeded them with Ancestral Tree Amber and cast the ritual he had learned from the wisp. The dead wood came to life, curing the cracks made by the crafting process, further moulding and shaping the puppets. However, the puppets weren’t quite done, not yet, because they still lacked the spark of life – a soul.
That’s where his method will differ from the one a wisp had used, being a Dark affinity mage he had to do things differently and that’s where the tome and the well played their roles. A different kind of ritual was set up. The ritual was Dark in nature and it required sacrifice. The tome explained that to power something this grand he would either need to sacrifice souls or expend exorbitant amounts of mana. He alone wouldn’t be able to power even a fraction of it. But he didn’t have to do it alone.
He gathered the humanoid spiders, the ones he Evolved and Imbued with the gift of magic, with them he’ll be able to power most of the ritual. The rest will be fuelled by the lesser souls of animals and most importantly the Great Undead (Gravelord) soul which actually powered half of the ritual just by itself. He decided that was the fitting use for the Gravelord, the undead will be a cornerstone in this ritual of ‘rebirth’; it was only right to use its soul to give a breath of life to the human souls it enslaved.
Incidentally, the souls inside the Soul Well, weren’t conscious and didn’t have personal experiences – those died when their bodies perished. And that might be the reason why most undead were so dumb.
He used Magical Ink to paint a huge circle in the clearing. Inside the circle, there were no less than a thousand of IronOak Puppets. The craftsmanship of the spiders and the power of the Amber granted the puppets sleek and flowing form; they were intricate wooden statues and worthy to be considered art. Each was made by a different crafter and had that touch of individuality and uniqueness.
Spider mages gathered around the outer line of the circle, but the King of Spiders took a spot in the very middle of it.
“Let us begin.” He announced in anticipation. “By the power of True Dark Tome, I beseech the souls to listen,” He began the incantation and the pages of the tome flipped on their own. “[Command Souls]” He raised the orb of Soul Well on the other hand and it began flowing on its own in the air. “Souls listen, and listen well, I’ve made you new bodies to fill and inhabit.” The souls needed the fuel to do that or else they would consume themselves in the process. “Feast on the chosen, [Sacrifice Soul], and do as you wish.“ He sacrificed Gravelord's soul setting a good thousand souls out of the well with an explosion of Dark mana. The air itself was saturated with it, it was so thick that an occasional purple lighting would crack and send a thunder reverberating throughout the circle.
The human souls were of various sizes and colours. The lights formed a whirlpool around the King of Spiders. “Go and pick your new bodies. [Reanimate].” He encouraged.
The souls swarmed around the puppets, each picking the one they liked the most. The ritual was only at a half-phase, the hard part was only beginning. He didn’t want mindless undead and hollow golems, which were just a mockery of life. He wanted true living and thinking beings. To give true life he needed more than just souls. However, if he’ll be successful remains to be seen.
“Spiders, pour your mana in.” He instructed.
The spider mages did as told and the circle was even further saturated with the mana. Meanwhile, he used his remaining mana reserves to guide all that energy into the puppets. “Souls! Form your minds, make thoughts be, and experiences present. [Become Living].” He fired a spell of his own. Something he made just for this. This was a combination of Dark and Nature affinities and an uncharted territory for him.
“I hope this works.” The rest was out of his hands.
The mana was pulled into the puppets and the souls worked hard to form structures equivalent to brains. The puppet-like golems were striving to become something more, something above.
[Chaos Blessed activated], the unpredictable passive perk he possessed fired chaotically.
[Perk Evolve was triggered], he didn’t will it, it did so on its own.
[Spell Imbue was triggered], he felt his mana drain from his body as if a cork somewhere was just unplugged.
His head began to spin, he went into the negatives. He didn’t have enough mana to do that for thousand puppets and he had a ritual to control. He had to reign the chaos in, to turn this in his favour or else the mana depletion will render him unconscious and ruin the ritual.
“I must do it.” He spoke through gritted teeth.
There was mana all around him, the spiders continued to power the ritual. He just needed to find a way to ‘borrow’ it. Being at the epicentre of it allowed him some control of the mana so he willed it to pull towards his body. It did just so, and it was so thick he thought he will drown, but it worked – the perks were powered by ambient mana. The mana flowed towards the centre, surrounded his body and then it changed into something more wild and chaotic, and then it reversed and flowed into the puppets.
However, “Arg!” He shouted trying to reign the pain in. The saturated mana was ravaging his body, threatening to rip him into shreds. The ritual was going to rip his own soul out!
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
[Perk Undying was triggered], he was left heaving and on his knees with the equivalent of 1HP.
Finally, the ritual began stabilising and one by one the puppets evolved and became something more than golems. They became living beings. The change was unprecedented and chaotic, it was so powerful that their very souls were affected. Something very rare and magical just happened – souls changed their colours into white. They were new and pure. How a Dark Ritual was capable of that will remain a mystery forever.
He kept taking sharp breaths, all of his energy was drained. The stray leftovers of the mana dispersed into the air. The ritual was finished.
The puppets were made in the image of Sprigans, so henceforth they became White Sprigans. The souls finished settling in the white wood-like bodies. One by one their eyes opened, taking the sight of the world surrounded. They were alive again, but this time in a true sense. No longer the human souls were bound to do the bidding of the Gravelord, actually, they weren’t bound to anyone. Unlike the golems, they were truly free and without a master.
The minds of White Sprigans were fully formed, and the old souls they had in their bodies gave them a supernatural understanding of how the basics of the world worked. But their minds were fresh with no human memories or personal experiences. The bunch stood there, happy to be alive and free, but they were mighty confused about why or what they were, of what they were meant to do. They looked at the nearest things present: a clearing, a magical circle, the spiders and the prone but still regal figure.
The spiders approached the Sprigans and welcomed them with happy chirps. The happy greetings were replied with equally happy noises, but not quite chirps. They were just born, but somehow they felt a kinship with the spiders already. Maybe, the fact that the spider’s mana powered the Sprigans’ birth had something to do with that, or maybe it was just a naiveté of the newborn.
The spiders rushed to help their King, he looked ravaged by mana backlash and barely alive. The Sprigans observed the spiders’ concern for the prone but still regal form, and as if to mimic them they too developed that feeling. The spiders picked up the King and began carrying him carefully. The Sprigans followed the spiders, what else was there to do?
Soon they were met with the visage of an endless farm. Somehow, each of them found the sight of growing TomGrapes, pleasing and even calming, as if they found a long-forgotten memory of something similar. The new/old memory made the core inside their mid section began to warm, it was a pleasant heat.
The small spiders tending the vines waved at the approaching Sprigans. The gesture was replied in kind. It was the first time they were at the farm, but it already felt like home. A welcoming place they wanted to stay. A place where they belonged. The feeling was born not out of reason but out of instinct. After all, they found their primitive ancestor IronOak standing proudly above the fields, providing support for the ropes the TomGrape grew on. And in turn, the vines converted the mana in the air into nutrients and pushed them into the soil through the roots. It was symbiosis, a love story of two plant species.
Yes, like their ancestor they too felt the obligation to do the same. To provide support and make so that others could grow and prosper. One day in and they already found the purpose of their life, or at least they felt that they knew what they needed to do. Thank you IronOak for setting a good example!
The Sprigans weren’t herded or commanded so naturally they broke off into smaller groups and dispersed all around the farm. Everywhere they went, they were met with pleasant chirps of spiders. Life here seemed so carefree and easy, but the Sprigans knew better than to idle. The ancient human souls they carried knew only toil and servitude, and maybe for the worst that trait couldn't be rubbed off easily, so they looked at the spiders for guidance wishing to be useful, to do something, to make this place grow.
The spiders did many things, the spiders did everything! But spiders did what spiders could, and there were some things that only a spider could do. And there were some things that only a Sprigan could do. There was no need to duplicate the spiders; the Spigans weren't here to replace or imitate, they were here to… Well, they didn’t quite understand why they were here, but they knew that they had the power to make things better.
Being the creatures they were they had their innate racial abilities. They instinctually knew the names of plants and animals, the vine fruits were TomGrapes and the spiders were Obsidian Spiders. And they could ‘talk’ with all plants and animals, guess what they needed to grow, guess what was the trouble if there was any. Moreover, had had access to [Grow] and that quite literally sped up the growth of a plant or animal. And they had access to [Heal], so healing an injured squirrel was not a problem. But also, they could mould and shape, they could ‘craft’ in their unique way, [Shape Wood]. The human crafting spirit had never died in their souls, many of them desired to pursue such crafts.
The Sprigans broke into groups even further. Some went to spider farmers, others to spider crafters, and even to Lamia to help them herd the Enchanted Boars. Others found their distant cousins, Dryads, and together they went to grow the saplings of IronOak and to thank their ancestor for providing the material their body was made.
Actually, White Sprigans felt a lot of gratitude. That’s why they decided to work so hard. The emotion was strong and its roots were unknown, but somehow they felt indebted to everyone involved in their birth. But anyway, it seemed natural, like children they felt gratitude to their parents namely: the spiders, the IronOak, the source of the Amber, and the King. Yes, they had four parents, but that didn’t feel unusual at all.
So the White Sprigans made quick bonds with the farm’s plants and animals. They naturally filled in the missing roles which no one had known were missing.
The King of Spiders remained oblivious to all of the above. He had to make a recovery both magical and physical. Luckily there were spiders giddily tending to each and all of his needs.
The Soul Well remained in his possession, emptier than it previously was but still filled with souls. There were still souls waiting for [Become Living], both spider and human. The task seemed daunting, but he could improve the ritual and now knew how to control it better. The recovery will take time, and there were preparations needed for future rituals. Depending on how White Sprigans do he might reincarnate the human souls into them again. But for the spiders, he had different plans. It just that for a spider soul only a spider body seemed to be appropriate. He desired to craft something special for them, and not just a wooden body. That was the project for the future.
“Spider friends, just wait a little bit longer.” He drank a Mana Potion to ease that pounding headache. “I’ll make new bodies for you soon.” He caressed the black orb, Soul Well, which still radiated darkness and death.
The item was born of Dark and definitely would be considered evil by most. After all, it could trap the souls for an eternity. However, he didn’t see it as evil because the tools weren’t evil, the evil stemmed from the person using it. And yes, he wasn’t exactly a paragon of virtue here, but he intended to use this item to strengthen his kingdom. And why would he not?
The spiders died. Mostly of old age. And what when? Where did their souls go? According to the texts he purchased in the Human Kingdom, the souls went to the gods. Good souls to good gods, and bad souls to the equivalent. The black souls were considered to be evil by nature. Well, he was positive his soul was black, but so was the spiders’ and he knew those guys were the opposite of evil. He wasn’t convinced in all of the ‘truths’ of religious texts, but he had met a god-like entity in the shape of a cloud, the one who reincarnated him here. So why would he trust such nebulous entities to oversee the black souls of good spiders? Especially if he could reincarnate the spiders himself!
After witnessing it was possible, he conspired of using this tool to deprive the gods of ‘their’ souls, the gods who had no genuine claim in his opinion, and instead, he would give the spiders another chance at life. Not quite immortality but close.
But first, he needed to rest. He drank the last of the potions capping his Toxicity to as close as he could handle in his weakened state and then he closed his eyes slowly drifting to sleep.
Inside the Magical Inventory, the Soul Well buzzed making the souls swirl inside and True Dark Tome flipped its pages with anticipation of future magic.