“This is going to change things.” Erebus said softly as he and his companions emerged into the sunlight.
“You’ve already said that.” Weaver of New Tales chided, the arachni was busy trying to stare at the sun with all of her eyes, though at least she wasn’t trying to use her magnifier on it as well.
“Repeatedly.” Natalya added, the necromancer stretching languidly before she took off her cloak and rolled up her sleeves, just wanting the feel the sun upon her skin after so long in the dark.
“And I stand by it. This is going to change things.” Erebus repeated, not taking the time to enjoy the sun as so many of those around him were but already beginning to conjure up a campsite. Moving earth for a firepit with one spell and weaving shadows into tents with another.
Close to a hundred arachni, practically a Great Web in its own right and certainly the largest migration in living memory, and possibly unliving memory as well. And only one of them had ever even seen sunlight before.
So far the massive spiders were alternating between staring mindlessly at the world around them, desperately webbing themselves to the ground for fear of falling into the sky and covering their eyes where the brightest light they’d ever known threatened to burn the sight from their eyes. Oh how they envied the other sapient people’s their eyelids.
“But a good change I think.” Opined the one arachni who wasn’t in awe of their surroundings. Then again it wasn’t like Ariadne had been using her eyes to see for a long, long time. “You know I honestly thought I’d never feel the sun upon my carapace again. You’ve done us a great service necromancer, or, if I’ve heard the whispering rightly, would you prefer archmage?”
“I’d prefer Erebus, Great Ariadne” The hero of the hour replied, trying not to look openly annoyed at the appellation. “Archmage seems an insult when in the presence of one more learned.”
“Perhaps, and in that case just Ariadne will suffice, but I could not have done what you did in the deeps. You did a great and terrible thing down there, and I truly believe we are all better for it.” The spider-lich observed softly.
“Not all of us.” Erebus sighed, “Not even close to all of us.”
“It was a terrible death, as deaths go.” Ariadne agreed, “I could tell you that it was worth it if you like? That her dying sowed the seeds of her killer’s destruction. That she gave her life so that the Great Enemy could receive its first wound since the Primordial War. But you know these things and they do nothing for the pain.”
The huge spider shook her massive head, “Hold on to that pain Erebus. You walk the path of heroes and monsters, when a friend’s death stops hurting you’ll know you’re no longer the right one.”
“I am certainly no hero.” The necromancer disagreed, still working on the campsite as they spoke. “Frankly this world has far more need of monsters than heroes. Heroes get people killed. They take fights they cannot win and doom everyone in their failure.”
“As you say, heroes get people killed.” Ariadne countered, “Look after your heart Erebus, it is easily your greatest feature and I fear you have more to suffer before your appointment with the scythed one.”
“I’m not sure there’s much more I can suffer.”
“I can think of at least three things that can be taken from you.” The chitinous behemoth told him flatly, turning to stare at where Lana and Natalya had apparently decided to bodyguard Weaver, or were perhaps just giving Erebus some space, while the arachni was all but insensate with wonderment and ill-advised sungazing. It wasn’t that Weaver was silent, her feet were all but dancing out groundspeak at a pace even a native speaker would have struggled to understand, but given neither of them were native speakers it was a wasted effort.
“I’ve been thinking on that and I was thinking of leaving them here with you. The world has changed a lot since you went underground and they could do a lot of good here.” Erebus began.
“Liar.” The lich snapped, “They would not forgive you for such a betrayal.”
“That might be for the best. The prophecy…”
“Tells you the destination, it says nothing of the road.” Ariadne told him sharply. “Yes you go to your death, it is fair and reasonable that you do not desire to drag your companions beyond the Veil with you. But do not be so weak as to deprive them of their own choices. Susan chose to travel with you, she knew the risks. Sato the same. You dishonour their memory by acting as if they died by your choices and not by their own.”
“Where the hells did that come from?” Erebus snapped, glaring at her, gaze fixed on her two frontmost eyes.
“Experience. Do you know how many brave and heroic souls have left my web since we were trapped underground? How many noble adventurers swore that they would be the ones to slay the darkness? To bring back a fresh source of food? To tell the surface of our survival?” She asked him, before proving it rhetorical by answering, “Tens of thousands. And I could have stopped each and every one of them. I did not, because for all my power and my knowledge, for all I was sure I knew better, if I gainsaid their decisions I would have been a tyrant to my people. And so I mourned them instead.”
“It’s not the same. You were their leader-“
“And they do not look to you for guidance? Do they not go along with your decisions because they have faith in you? You hold so tightly to the cost but let me tell you of the rewards. Since you began this quest you have laid low a sidhe lord who has terrorized Reath since before even my youth. You have humiliated one of the rulers of Avalon. Opened up several miles of land in a time where the map is ever shrinking. Freed a people from an eternity trapped in darkness. Made the Underreath safe to live in once more. Wiped out one of the few existential threats Reath faces and spat in the eye of the most powerful being to exist in the history of history itself.”
“But the cost-“
“Was great. It always is. Two of the greatest mages of your generation lie dead, a divine spark has passed from this world and one of the few aetheric chains that actually matter is broken. And it was worth it. What it wasn’t worth is the disgusting self-pity you cloak yourself with now or the false humility you all but exude. You are the greatest mage of your time, a peer of immortal, god and devil, an archmage by any measure, it’s about damn time you acted like it.”
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Erebus didn’t respond at first, taking the lecture with, if not good grace, then at least consideration. “You want me to lead them to their deaths.”
“Want you to? Certainly not. Need you to? Quite possibly. You have terrible foes young Erebus, terrible enough I’m glad they’re yours and not mine.” Ariadne patted him on the shoulder with one of her forelegs. “You can’t stop them going with you, and though you may try to move the world to stop it, you can’t protect them always, all you can do is make it that if they do die then they die for something worthy of them.”
“What are your plans then?” Erebus asked, “If I’m to face such terrible foes then it would help to have an undead archmage at my side.”
“I will establish a new Great Web aboveground with what few arachni agreed to return to the surface. With the Underreath now empty there will be much room for my people to expand, we may yet see a new golden age for the arachni. But first, I have an aunt to visit and to thank for gently nudging a very stubborn necromancer in my direction.”
The stubborn necromancer nodded his understanding, “Then I wish you luck on your travels. It will take me a little while to gather enough mana to teleport out with Lana and Natalya but I expect we will depart within the hour.”
“And abandon poor Weaver?” Ariadne asked, if she’d had an eyebrow to arch she’d have done so.
“I thought she was going with you…?”
“Oh no. I made myself quite clear, Weaver is no longer a part of this web.” She told him flatly. “So look after her.”
“I will as best I am able.” Erebus assured her. There wasn’t much more to say really. They could have gone over the current state of the surface, the many trials they both would face but everything actually important had already been said.
Crossing over to his friends he found Natalya stifling laughter as Weaver bobbed drunkenly from side to side. “It’s sooo bright. How do you all live like this all day?” The rather bubbly spider asked, her faculties of speech apparently restored.
“We don’t. The sun’s only around for half the day, a little less than that given the season.” Natalya explained in the tired but amused tone of one who had already answered their daily allocation of questions and then some.
“That is so weird.” Weaver babbled, “Erebus told me the surface was different but this is just bizarre.”
“What did he tell you?” The necromancer asked despite her better judgement.
“That you can grow things that aren’t mushrooms here, that there are millions of people and that sometimes water just falls out of the sky… though I’m pretty sure he was joking about that last one.” The spider gesticulating with four legs at a time in her excitement.
“No that’s very real. We call it rain. And sometimes it’s frozen and then we call it snow, or sometimes hail… now that I think about it we have a lot of different types of weather.” Natalya mused.
“Don’t forget the occasional rain of herring.” Erebus interjected with a smile.
“That happened just once, and we’re almost certain it was a weather mage messing about.” His friend pushed back.
“Only almost.” He said cheerily, “Now is everyone ready to get going? The others are going to be wondering where we are.”
“I thought we were staying here a while.” Weaver protested, “You just set up the camp.”
“For them, not for us.” He explained, indicating the gathered arachni. “Ariadne’s told me you’re still exiled from the web.”
“Of course she did. My honoured ancestor is too stubborn to ever admit a mistake, but I was right wasn’t I?” The spider said, voice still pleasantly bubbly. From her position of quiet observation Lana was starting to believe she simply didn’t know how to modulate her tone with the spell.
“Yes you were. Welcome to the reward for a job well done. Another job.” Erebus said humourlessly. “You can go your own way if you want, I certainly can’t guarantee your safety if you do come with us.”
“I didn’t choose to leave my home so that I could be safe, husband.” The spider chided, flicking him on the forehead with a foreleg. “Will there be adventure? Sights no arachni has seen since we were locked beneath Reath?”
“Adventure naturally.” Erebus smiled, resting a hand on the top of her abdomen. “Though I can’t promise sights unseen, yours is not the only web to survive to today. I know of at least three more.”
“That’s incredible news. We thought we might be the only ones…. Does my ancestor know?” Weaver asked, all but bouncing in place.
“I’ve declined to tell her on account of the fact her aunt will stab me if someone other than her gets to share the good news.” The necromancer replied as beneficently as he could manage.
“I have heard rumours that Dus could be quite cruel to those who oppose her.” Weaver mused, not quite understanding why both necromancers burst into giggles.
“Oh no. It’s because Dus considers me a friend that she would only stab me if I robbed her of the pleasure.” Erebus clarified with a concerning fondness.
“So where are we going and how are we getting there?” The arachni asked softly, moving Erebus’ hand away but only so she can weave from her shadow a backpack for herself, it was a little odd as backpacks went, having to accommodate all eight legs, and there was no way she’d be able to access its contents herself – the major reason the backpack had never caught on amongst arachni who preferred a sack or some form of travelling case attached to a small silk line – but a show of willing tended to go a long way.
“Nowhere you’ll have to fetch and carry.” The necromancer snorted, “We’re teleporting to a death zone we recently broke open.”
“Isn’t teleporting really dangerous? Ariadne always said it was dangerous.” Weaver objected, “Really, really dangerous.”
“There is an element of risk yes, but the other methods of magical travel are denied us as things stand.”
“There are other methods of magical transport?” She inquired, marvelling at such a concept.
“Verily. The realm of shadow will be crawling with umbramancers trying to figure out what in all the hells just happened, so that would be a running battle. The mirror network has been denied me a very long time, it turns out that shattering a mirror when a doppelganger is clawing its way out is a bad idea. The Great Dreaming is controlled by a being that holds a great personal enmity to me and would charge a heavy toll for the travel and Avalon would require me to duel three deity class threats in rapid succession.” Erebus listed them off on his fingers.
“Isn’t that just walking through other dimensions?” The arachni asked, apparently unimpressed by the ability to tear the fragile membrane that separated Reath from the many adjacent, and sometimes parasitic, dimensions that had built up around it. “It’s not really what I’d call magical transport.”
Erebus folded his arms, “Now you’re just being awkward.”
“Quite possibly.” Weaver admitted, pedipalps twitching in amusement. “I don’t want you treating me like some know-nothing yokel.”
“I’m hardly going to do that, teacher.” The necromancer promised, inclining his head to her. “You were kind and patient with me when I was getting used to the Underreath, it’s only fair I treat you the same.”
Even with six eyes Weaver managed to avoid his gaze, “When did you get wise?”
“If it ever happens I’ll let you know.” Erebus jested before growing serious once more, “One of the big things I’ve learned is that wisdom isn’t even half as important as kindness. And you helped teach me that, you and a thousand others who gave me aid with no thought of repayment.”
“So you’re saying you’re a kind man?” She teased, poking him with a foreleg.
“I’m saying I try to be.”
“So what should I expect travelling with you?” His old teacher asked, and she was old for an arachni, well into her second century, not that it showed much. She’d always been slow to molt, slow to grow, and Ariadne had told her it meant she likely had a long life ahead of her before the magical toll of maintaining her impossibly large body grew too much for her.
That was how most arachni died, they just grew themselves to death, every molt it got a little harder to breathe as the inexorable strength of physics overcame the magic of their birthright just a little more.
“Danger, a high likelihood of death, a heavy helping of adventure and just a soupcon of bafflement.” Erebus assured her.
“Brilliant.” The spider replied, “When do we leave?”
“Just as soon as I finish drawing in the mana for the teleport.”