“I can’t stress this enough.” Cira said as she took the first step into her archive. “Don’t touch anything and try not to look any anything unnecessary either.”

Cira’s new geomancer was like having two Rockys in her pocket. While that’s how it felt, he claimed to work exclusively with metal and was a blacksmith. He was not present.

“What is this place…?” Kuja asked.

Cira beamed with pride, “My forbidden archive!” She led the woman over to the desk with a hole cut out of it and stood before a covered void chamber. “Alright, Kuja. I don’t know how to explain this, but just make sure you keep a strong hold on your mind when I pull this blanket off.”

She stood there with wide eyes, “I-is it really that serious?”

Cira nodded and allowed a few seconds before uncovering the creature, “Behold! The self-proclaimed crimson soulweaver.”

“Th-that’s terrifying…” Kuja stared at it quietly for a moment, “but I think it’s dead.”

“Nonsense!” Cira turned around and the spider was indeed curled up like a dead spider would be and completely lacking in luster.

“This being hosts no soul.” Her keen eyes stared deeply into it, “There can be no mistaking it.”

“Oh, don’t even start this shit with me!” Cira knocked on the glass, “Kuja, see this glyph here? Place your hand upon it and channel a little mana in.”

“This one?” Kuja reached for the glyph, “Okay—”

“STOP! Okay, I give up!” A voice penetrated both their minds in a panic.

“Ahh!” Kuja shrieked and stumbled back, frantically looking around to find the voice. “Wh-what is that?!”

“This little bastard right here.” Cira pointed at the spider who stood on all eight legs now.

“I don’t believe it… There was nothing in there! So how…?” She looked into the spider’s eyes with a dumbfounded expression. “I’ve never seen such a soul in all my years. What—no… why do you possess this creature?”

She looked at Cira in horror, but the girl could only shrug, “You’re asking the wrong sorcerer.”

“Has it been ten years already?” The spider interrupted, “I take it you’ve come to destroy me?”

“Oh, very funny.” It had barely been a full day. “I need answers. Call it a trust exercise.”

“I will consider it after I hear the question.”

Why does it have to be so difficult? Does the spider have better things to do? “Tell me why I need another soul to fix my own.”

“Foolish girl. You already know the answer—you’ve just forgotten it.” When Cira crossed her arms, he decided it wasn’t worth letting that hang in the air, “I believe this will be far from the first time a soul has become part of your own. Either you find a big one or get ready for a culling. There’s simply not enough left for ambient aether to make up the difference—by a wide margin.”

“Hold on…” Cira grew pale. Consuming souls didn’t strike her as something so easily to forget, “What do you mean it wouldn’t be the first time?”

“I mean to say I’ve never seen such vile patchwork. Whoever did it is a disgrace to the craft.”

“I was wondering…” Kuja started, “I thought that was just damage from whatever you did to break it in the first place. So… All these little fragments—each and every thread… Once belonged to another?”

Cira turned away and hid inside her coat, feeling a little embarrassed, “Would you stop looking at me like that? It’s incredibly uncomfortable. Spider, some of it’s my own soul, right?”

“Of course, it’s all your own soul.” He replied, “But to answer your question, you aren’t some manner of aether golem or homunculus. Someone just did a lot of work before the old man found you. To what end is beyond even my myriad eyes.”

“Eight.” I counted. There was a brief silence before Cira let out a sigh, “I don’t like that at all, but it doesn’t really help me right now. How big of a soul are we talking?”

“How does one measure souls?” It riddled, “You need not one only soaked in mana, but it must be steeped in a great destiny. If this woman was younger, a couple of her would suffice, but you must look elsewhere.”

“What does that even mean?” Destiny was a concept she neither appreciated nor believed in.

“Naturally the very fact that you are seeking it shall alter your prey’s determined fate drastically, but you should seek a being on which many lives hinge.”

“So… Perhaps Captain Wick?” Kuja suggested, “His disappearance would cause many ripples.”

“The image I have of him in my head is very weak,” Cira had not met him yet but knew that he kept mages with him for protection. “I don’t think he will do. Also, my entire goal was to not assassinate someone and slap their soul onto my own. I’m iffy about most beasts as is.

“Matter of fact,” The spider continued, “The perfect match exists closer than you think.”

“And… are you going to tell me where?”

“I’ll do you one better. I’ll guide you straight to it.”

“Out of the question.” Cira gestured to Kuja, “Go on, activate the glyph.”

“NO, PLEASE! You have nothing to lose! I-I can help you!” The spider pleaded.

“I’m pretty sure I have a lot to lose. You’re dangerous.” She paced around for a moment, somewhat baffled, “Why would you think I would even consider letting you out?”

“I can’t stay trapped in this prison any longer! It wasn’t bad until you and that girl so rudely woke me up.” Cira squinted her eyes at him when she realized he was talking about when Nanri helped her break into the archive at first. At this expression, he got nervous again, “I’ll do everything I can to help, a-and you can even curse me! Please, just don’t put the blanket back on me!” He was practically screaming at her, but he sounded at least mildly sincere.

“Now there’s an idea…” I really didn’t want to curse anything ever again, but… I can. Easily. “You should know exactly what kind of curse I’m going to put on you. Do you seriously want that?”

“I just want to see the outside world again… It’s been so, so long.” There was definitely a tinge of sadness in his voice, but even bad guys can feel sad. “Lay whatever curse you wish. I just want to be free.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

The very nature of the curse that would allow him freedom is sort of the opposite of freedom… Is there an ulterior motive?

One this was clear: Cira had greatly underestimated this spider’s desire for freedom. “Okay, I really don’t want to. But… Kuja, you might want to leave the room.”

“Child, I… don’t think this is a good idea.” She was fraught with concern as she looked at Cira. “If you expend too much of your soul… Only curse will be left.”

“It’s a terrible idea, but you’d be surprised—It really doesn’t take much. You won’t see me turning hollow,” Such a being whose soul is completely overtaken was academically known as a curseborne lich. “I should have plenty for a little curse or two.”

“No, you should be careful,” the spider said, “Your soul is torn and frayed. Each fragment will be affected independently. Be wise with your conditions.”

That is what you would want, isn’t it? Could that be the scheme? He wants to find a loophole in my curse and escape, or even kill me. For all I know he could take over my body. “Conditions, hmm? You sure have luxurious dreams for a spider. Kuja, I’m doing this.”

The woman had a determined glint in her weary eyes, “I-if I can’t dissuade you… Then I will stay.”

A short staring contest ensued, and Cira lost, “Fine, at least go stand by the door or something.”

No harm would come to Kuja unless Cira willed it, but she still didn’t like people seeing her do this or being too close. Outside of the incident in Uren, Gazen was the only other who had witnessed it. Just once before he forbade it for life. Sorry, Dad. Maybe I’m taking shortcuts again, but everything will be fine once my soul is reforged.

“Okay, here we go…” Cira held out her hand and the room suddenly pressurized. As if reality began to stain gray, a dull wooden staff appeared from nothing. It was less impressive than the ones she kept with the umbrellas next to the front door. No gem adorned it and the unpolished wood used was marred with knots and frayed burls. “Spider, do you have a name?”

Cira spoke evenly with a serious tone and looked into its many eyes. “I do not.” It replied without a hint of jest.

“You are hereby named Legs McClensky.”

“Um…” The spider was still reeling from his sudden naming when Cira rolled right into her curse.

“Henceforth, you shall never act against my will. You shall not bear ill will toward me nor anyone else. You shall never act without my express permission, nor shall you tell a lie.” Gray wisped from her staff toward the trembling spider as it backed up.

“H-hang on…” The smoke like streams continued unimpeded by the void chamber or the bell jar and found their way to the spider before fully enveloping it, “Wait! Just W—”

This process took a few seconds before it cleared to reveal the spider twitching on its back. “This was your idea.” Cira noted.

“I-I… didn’t know it would be this bad.” Legs’ voice was weak and came to her like static. “Just let me out already…”

Cira dispelled her staff and Kuja crept back over with wide eyes, “That truly was something… I’ve never seen somethings so… so… I don’t even know how to describe that. So vile, yet I sensed no malice. I don’t understand—” she quieted down as Cira side-eyed her. “What happens if it disobeys the orders you just gave it?”

“What do you mean?” Cira blinked in confusion. “It can’t. That’s the whole point. Not until I dispel it personally.”

Without an ounce of trepidation, Cira lifted the lid on the void chamber and pulled the bell jar off. “I’ve been meaning to inspect this…” No glyphs. It’s glass, not mana crystal… Is this just a jar?

“Wait, just like that?!” Kuja jumped back, “That… that thing is dangerous. I’ve never heard of a curse that works like that! Can even primordial curses do that?”

The most prevalent curses were hardly more than an affliction shared by two parties—one unwilling victim and the caster. The victim usually got it much worse. While the caster may roll around in bed and wake up a couple times through the night in a cold sweat, the curse’s recipient would be awake through the night huddled in a corner with inexplicable terror hanging over their head.

Another example could see the caster lose money gambling while their victim in a merchant ship happens to stumble upon a flight of wyverns on their way home. Bad luck was trickier, but standard curses worked in a somewhat reciprocal manner.

There were also substitutions where the victim may become spontaneously paralyzed, and the caster’s first-born child comes out deformed years later. The list goes on, but it was never wise to dwell on the intricacies of curses.

“I can’t say I’ve seen anyone else cast them,” that I can recall, “but I’ve always thought mine are of an especially disgusting nature.”

She turned to the spider who cowered in its invisible prison. Free from its shackles after who knows how long, yet it didn’t move a muscle. “May I move?” For the spider was shackled more thoroughly than ever.

“Ah, yes. You are free to trot around and such, just don’t go too far.”

“How far is too far?” It asked timidly.

“However far I deem it, which will likely vary throughout the day, now come on.” Cira put her open palm next to it and heard Kuja gasp behind her. “I think I’ll call you Mac.”

Slowly, he placed one leg on her hand. It felt pretty sharp but not enough to break skin—though she thought it could if he tried. Soon the cowardly spider god clambered onto her palm and Cira brought it up to the light.

“Looks like you lost a little color. What happened?” Instead of bright crimson like a perfect ruby there were faint streams running through him that turned darker as he glimmered.

“You are seeing my soul.” It replied, “You have stained it considerably with this… this filth.”

“Don’t be rude.” Does that make him a mana crystal or something? What a neat find. Thanks, Dad. “Now tell me what your real goals were and currently are. You can’t lie to me now, and no lying by omission.”

“My goal was always to take over that old bastard’s body, consume his soul for my own.” It explained without a hint of hesitation, “Urgh, then when he captured me only to go and die, you naturally became my target…”

“Mmhm. Mhmm.” Cira nodded, “I would be upset if it weren’t exactly as I thought. Continue.”

“My goal now is… It is…” The spider paused and his voice sounded pained, “Grrrrrahhhh!! My goal is to help you reforge your soul and become your friend until I can convince you to lift the curse so I may consume your soul amicably one day.”

“Now that’s more like it. Looks like I’ve got some time before I have to care about that.” She turned to Kuja again, “Come on, we’re burning daylight.”

“Wha—you trust that thing?” She was dumbstruck.

“Of course not, but I don’t have to.” Cira plopped the spider down on her shoulder and led the woman out of the room.

Outside there was a terrified geomancer sweating bullets who nearly fainted out the window upon locking eyes with the spider. “C-Captain!”

“At ease, Rictor.” She helped pull him back in. “Go ahead and close this off then head upstairs.”

This guy is way better than Rocky and he hasn’t asked for a single crown. I’ll have to make sure to reward him later.

“Are we looking for materials now?” Kuja asked as they approached the stairs back up to the house.

“First things first.” She picked the spider up off her shoulder and hid it in her coat, “I need to play a prank on my crew.”

The crew in question was gathered in the garden around a barrel and didn’t even see her coming. She crept up behind them and it seemed Tawny was the only one to notice her sly grin. The soft grass muffled the sounds of her wooden leg, and she achieved maximum stealth.

“YOU CAN HEAR ME, RIGHT?!” Cira said mentally.

“Yes,” Mac replied, “There’s no need to yell.”

“Okay, just crawl all over this guy when I set you down.”

“…”

“Ahoy there, mateys.” Cira said very smoothly as she pulled the world’s least conspicuous spider from inside her coat. “Where’s my glass?”

She gave Jimbo a pat on the shoulder to hide the feeling of eight little legs creeping around to his other side and he ended up ordering James to get Cira a glass—just as planned—then she took a seat nearby to watch, lacing her fingers together as an ale made its way before her.

“Sure took you long enough,” Jimbo commented, “Find everything you—”

His eyes froze as he noticed the fist-sized gemlike spider resting on his lapel and staring straight into his soul.

“It’s the demon god!” Both her goons sounded the alarms and started running away, followed by a chorus of chairs getting knocked over backwards. James sputtered with his jaw on the floor and Jimbo let out a girlish squeal.

“Eeeeyah!” He desperately slapped it away and fell on his ass, trying to scoot back and failing as the grass yielded to his peg leg. “Wh-why are you laughing?!” He frantically tried to free himself and eventually rolled over, clawing away until he could find his footing. A couple of her men had hopped clear over the fence to brave the shadows instead of whatever the hell this thing was. A questionable choice at best.

Within seconds Cira was alone with a barrel of ale and a shiny red spider sat next to her on the grass. For a moment, he struggled to right himself like a turtle stuck on its shell. Next thing she knew, Kuja approached from behind with her face folded in a disapproving frown.

“Can we get started now?” Her arms were crossed, and hints of exasperation flitted through her eyes.

“And you should make it quick.” When Mac added this comment, Cira scoffed. “There are a great many souls in your way. Reaching the one you seek will not be achieved quickly—meanwhile, you decay with each passing moment.”

“That sounds reasonable enough…” When everybody gets back, I’ll have them get ready to depart. “I’m excited to see what these shadow beasts are like.”

Kuja gave her one last tired look, “You should not be.”