Evil Celestial Spider [Celestial Grimoire]

Merlin TV Universe, Darkling Woods

Time: Month 12, Day 2

Current Celestial Points: 0

Celestial Points Gathered (This Year): 1000/1000

Monthly Roll: 1/1

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The spider hung motionless in her web, watching her latest batch of eggs begin to crack. The silk sac pulsed as tiny legs pushed against the walls from within. Several of her daughters clung to nearby strands, their own egg sacs heavy with developing offspring.

The first spiderling broke through the protective silk. It paused at the edge of the sac, testing the air with sensitive hairs. The spider's eyes fixed on its front limbs - two of them had formed into shapes resembling human hands, complete with small fingers. More spiderlings followed, each bearing the same mutation.

She clicked her mandibles thoughtfully. Those hated human hands that had wielded pickaxes against her in that other world... perhaps they would serve her children well. The ability to grasp and manipulate could prove useful.

One of her offspring with the subspace gift skittered over without prompting. The air rippled as he reached into his invisible storage, pulling out globs of liquified meat. The newborns sensed the food instantly, scrambling toward it with eager clicks.

The spider left them to feed, crawling up to a massive web stretched between oaks. She secured herself with all eight legs, feeling the vibrations of her territory through the silk. Her children moved below, expanding the colony's reach. Some wove new web structures while others maintained existing ones. Hunting parties departed in different directions, coordinating through clicks and leg signals.

Near the central chamber, several captive humans hung in their cocoons. One of her daughters was currently wrapped around a male, securing him for breeding. The spider didn't care - such things were natural.

More interesting were the discussions happening among her offspring. They clicked back and forth about patrol patterns, web placement, prey movement. Their strategies grew more refined with time.

A grey-marked hunter suddenly scrambled up her web, legs twitching with excitement. "Mother, we found something during our forest sweep."

The spider turned all eight eyes toward him. "Speak."

"A griffin, Mother. Nesting in the deeper woods. We tracked it to an old ruins where it's made its lair."

The spider shifted on her web. "A griffin... the humans mentioned that such a beast threatened Camelot months ago. A relative?"

She remembered the captives' descriptions - a creature with a lion's body and an eagle's head and wings. Such a being could strengthen her brood immensely.

"How large is this griffin?" she clicked at the grey-marked hunter. "Could we defeat it?"

The hunter's front legs rubbed together nervously. "The beast stands five times taller than a human, Mother. We watched it take down a full-grown deer with one swipe. Even with our numbers, subduing it would cost many lives... unless we could trap it in enough webbing."

The spider considered this. The potential benefits were clear, but the risk to her children...

"Mother," the hunter clicked softly. "We discussed this among ourselves. Perhaps we should not attack yet."

Her mandibles clicked sharply. "Explain."

"The cost would be too high right now. Even with your soul-strike magic, victory isn't certain. But the griffin serves us in another way - it keeps humans away from these woods. They avoid griffin territory, which helps hide our presence until we grow strong enough to challenge it."

The spider's legs stilled as she weighed the hunter's words. The logic was sound. Better to let the griffin guard their borders while they built up their strength.

"Very well. Keep watching the beast. Learn its habits." She waved a dismissive leg, and the hunter scurried away.

Her eyes swept across her territory. The colony had grown impressively, but now she needed to walk among humans. She needed to find magic users who could enhance her bloodline. But first...

The spider dropped from her web, transforming as she landed. Her new human feet carried her to one of the bound captives - a young man whose face was streaked with tears.

"Demon!" he spat when he saw her. "Monster! The knights will-"

"Quiet." She pressed a finger to his lips. "I require a name."

He tried to bite her finger. She pulled back with a frown.

"Help me choose a name, and you won't be used for breeding."

The man's expression changed instantly. "I... what kind of name do you want?"

"Something suitable for this body."

"Well... there's Nerys, which means 'lady'. Nephele means 'cloud'. Elena is 'torch' or 'bright one'. Enid means 'soul' or 'spirit'..." He licked his dry lips. "Amara means 'bitter' or 'eternal'."

She tilted her head. "Amara..."

The name felt right. She was eternal - death itself couldn't hold her. And bitter... yes, she was bitter. The humans who killed her had ensured that.

"Thank you." Amara smiled at the captive. "I lied about the breeding, of course."

She clicked at one of her daughters waiting in the shadows. The spider-thing moved forward eagerly as the man began screaming curses at her back.

"You lying whore! Demon bitch! I'll cut your heart out and feed it to-" The man's shouts turned to muffled grunts as thick webbing covered his mouth.

Amara walked away from the sounds of struggle, looking down at her bare human form with a frown. The lack of clothing would draw unwanted attention. They needed to capture female humans, but for now...

She clicked her tongue - an oddly human gesture that felt natural in this body. Her children crawled from the shadows and web-covered trees, gathering around her in a circle.

"I will visit the nearby village," she announced. The spiderlings shifted uneasily at her words. "There I can practice moving among humans before heading to the citadel of Camelot itself. There will surely be magic users hiding within its walls."

One of her daughters stepped forward, bristles twitching with concern. "The village is one hour away by human walking, Mother. Will you be safe alone?"

"I won't be alone." Amara gestured to the trees. "Several of you will follow at a distance. Stay hidden in the forest edge, but be ready if I need help."

The spiderlings clicked in agreement. They had already mapped the village's location during their hunting sweeps. A small settlement of maybe fifty humans, with no walls or guards.

"Perfect for learning how humans behave," Amara said. "And for finding proper coverings for this body."

A rust-colored spiderling moved forward. "Mother, what story will you tell the humans? They will ask questions about a naked woman coming from the forest."

Amara considered this. The humans she'd captured often spoke of bandits raiding travelers on the roads. "I will claim bandits attacked me, stole my belongings. Humans seem protective of females in distress."

"What if they search the forest?" Another offspring clicked nervously. "Or send knights to hunt these imaginary bandits?"

"Let them search." Amara smiled. "The griffin will keep them from straying too deep, and any who slip past will simply... disappear. More prey for our colony."

The spiderlings chittered in approval. Several moved toward the trees, ready to follow their mother at a distance.

"Remember," Amara said. "Stay hidden unless I signal. Watch how the humans move, how they speak. We must learn everything about them."

She took a few experimental steps, still adjusting to the strange balance of two legs. The ground felt cold against her bare feet – something else she disliked about the human body. At least walking had become easier with practice.

"When I return," she told her children, "we will discuss what I've learned. And then... then we begin planning our approach to Camelot itself."

Amara didn't waste any more time, and stepped out of the web-covered trees into the dense forest, stepping carefully over roots and fallen branches. Her children followed silently through the trees above, moving from shadow to shadow.

After an hour of walking, the trees began to thin. Her children stopped at the forest edge, melting into the shadows of thick bushes and gnarled trunks. Amara glanced back at them - eight pairs of eyes gleamed from the darkness, watching.

She continued alone toward the village visible in the distance. Smoke rose from crude chimneys, and she could hear the bleating of sheep. The dirt path felt strange under her bare feet.

A young man rounded the bend ahead, carrying an empty water bucket. He froze when he saw her, eyes going wide.

"My lady!" He dropped the bucket, rushing forward. "Are you alright? Were you attacked?"

Amara stared at him. The proper response would be... what? Humans showed fear when threatened. She made her lips tremble.

"I... yes." She tried to remember how the captured hunters had acted. "The bandits took everything."

"You poor thing." The man shrugged off his jacket, holding it out. "Here, cover yourself. I'm Thomas. The village is just ahead - my mother can give you proper clothes."

Amara stared at the jacket with multiple eyes that weren't there anymore. She reached out slowly, unsure how human arms were supposed to move in this situation. The fabric felt strange against her fingers - no sensory hairs to properly gauge its texture.

"Thank you." She held the jacket awkwardly, examining it from different angles. How did humans put these on?

"You... put it on like this?" She draped it over her shoulders upside down.

Thomas laughed, stepping closer. "No, no. Here, let me help." He gently turned the jacket right-side up, guiding her arms through the sleeves. His cheeks flushed red when his fingers brushed against her skin.

"The temperature doesn't bother me," Amara said. Humans seemed obsessed with covering themselves, but she didn't understand why. Her old carapace had been much more practical.

"You must be in shock." Thomas picked up his bucket, glancing at her bare feet. "Did you walk far? Your feet aren't even scratched..."

Amara looked down. Should human feet be damaged by walking on grass? "I am... very careful where I step."

"Like a cat." Thomas smiled. "So graceful. Where are you from? I haven't seen you in these parts before."

"I came from..." Amara paused. The captives had mentioned many places. "Mercia."

"Mercia! That's quite a journey." Thomas moved closer, speaking softer. "Did the bandits hurt you?"

Amara tilted her head at his change in volume. Was this some human social signal? She mimicked his quiet tone. "No. They were very inefficient predators."

Thomas blinked. "That's... an unusual way to put it. But I'm glad you weren't harmed." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking away. "You have a strange way of speaking. It's... nice."

"Strange?" Amara frowned. She needed to observe humans more carefully. "How should I speak?"

"No, no! I like it." Thomas stepped forward quickly. "It's unique. Special." His face grew redder. "Like your eyes. I've never seen such dark eyes before."

Amara didn't understand why the human's skin kept changing color. Was he ill? She reached out to touch his cheek.

Thomas froze at her touch, eyes going wide. "My lady..."

"Your temperature is elevated," Amara stated. "Are you unwell?"

"I'm fine!" Thomas squeaked, jumping back. "Just... we should get you to the village. My mother can help."

Amara nodded. The young human male was acting strangely, but perhaps all humans behaved this way. She would need more observation to understand these odd social behaviors.

"Yes, take me to your mother." She started walking, then stopped. "What is the proper way to walk?"

"The... proper way?"

"You keep looking at my legs. Am I moving incorrectly?"

Thomas made a choking sound. "No! Your walk is perfect! I wasn't... I mean... this way to the village!"

He hurried ahead, still clutching his bucket. Amara followed, studying his movement. Humans seemed to swing their arms while walking. She tried copying him, but the motion felt unnatural.

The village came into view - wooden buildings with thatched roofs. Amara missed her multiple eyes. These human ones gave her such a limited view of her surroundings. She kept wanting to sense vibrations through her legs, but these human feet felt deaf to the world around her.

"What do you call this village?" Amara asked. She noticed Thomas glancing back at her every few steps.

"This is Willowbrook." Thomas smiled. "Not much to look at, but it's home."

A group of children ran past, chasing a ball. Amara tracked them with predatory focus until she remembered humans might find that unsettling. She forced her eyes away.

"Your dwelling is where?" She tried to make her words sound more human-like.

"Just up ahead. The one with the blue door." Thomas pointed. "My mother's a seamstress. She'll have something proper for you to wear."

Amara noticed more humans watching her. Some women whispered to each other, while men quickly looked away when she met their eyes. She copied their head movements, trying to match what seemed socially acceptable.

"Thomas!" A woman called from a doorway. "Who's this then?"

"Mother, this lady was robbed on the road. She needs clothes and..." Thomas lowered his voice. "She's a bit... odd. Maybe in shock?"

The older woman stepped closer, looking Amara up and down. "Poor dear. Come inside, let's get you decent."

Amara followed them into the house. The space felt confining after her open web chamber. She resisted the urge to climb the walls for a better view.

"Sit here," Thomas's mother gestured to a wooden chair. "I'm Martha. Let's find you something suitable."

Amara sat down stiffly, unsure how to arrange her limbs. She tried copying Martha's posture.

"Where did you say you were from, dear?" Martha asked, rummaging through a chest.

"Mercia," Amara repeated her earlier lie. "The bandits were... very rude."

Thomas made that strange choking sound again. Martha shot him a look.

"Thomas, fetch some water for our guest." She pulled out a simple dress. "This should fit. You're quite tall, but it will do for now."

Amara held onto the dress. More human coverings. At least observing Martha would show her how to put them on properly.

"Thank you for your assistance," she said carefully. "Humans are very... helpful."

Martha paused. "Humans?"

"People," Amara corrected quickly. "People are very helpful."

"Yes..." Martha shared a look with Thomas. "Dear, where exactly in Mercia did you say you were from?"

"Tamworth," Amara said. The captured hunters had mentioned it - a large settlement near Mercia's center. "I lived near the castle."

Martha nodded slowly. "And what brought you so far from home?"

Amara opened her mouth, then closed it. The humans were growing suspicious of her behavior. She needed a better explanation for her awkwardness.

"I..." She touched her head, remembering how the hunters acted when struck with the soul-piercing strike. "Everything is... unclear. The bandits struck my head." She looked at her hands with confusion. "Sometimes I forget... simple things."

Martha's expression softened immediately. "Oh, you poor dear. Memory loss from a head wound - that explains everything."

"The way you walk," Thomas added eagerly. "And talk. You're remembering how to do it all again."

Amara seized the opportunity. "Yes. Walking feels... strange. And I keep forgetting words." She looked down at the dress in her lap. "Even dressing myself seems difficult."

"Don't worry," Martha stepped forward, maternal instinct clear in her eyes. "We'll help you remember. Thomas, go fetch Sarah - she's about the same size, she can help our guest dress properly."

Thomas lingered by the door. "What should we call you?"

"Amara," she said.

"Such a lovely name." Martha shooed her son away. "Now dear, let's get you sorted. Do you remember anything else? Family? Friends?"

Amara shook her head. "Only fragments. Everything before the attack feels..." She struggled to find the right word. "Distant. Like looking through muddy water."

"Memory will return with time," Martha patted her shoulder. "Until then, you can stay with us. Thomas can take the spare room, you'll have his bed."

"That's very..." Amara searched for appropriate human gratitude. "Kind."

A young woman entered - Sarah, presumably. She carried a bundle of clothing and wore a friendly smile.

"Come on," Sarah took Amara's arm. "Let's get you properly dressed. Then we can see about fixing your hair - it's a mess from your ordeal."

Amara followed Sarah to another room, studying how the girl moved. Humans had so many little gestures and expressions. Perhaps this 'amnesia' would give her time to learn them all.

Sarah helped Amara navigate the strange human clothing. The dress felt confining compared to her natural carapace, but she noted how the fabric moved with each step. The undergarments were particularly puzzling - so many layers just to cover flesh.

"There," Sarah stepped back, smiling. "You look lovely. The blue brings out your eyes."

Amara touched the dress, memorizing how it hung on her body. The shoes pinched her feet, but Sarah insisted walking barefoot wasn't proper.

"Thank you for teaching me," Amara said. She had watched Sarah's movements carefully, storing away each gesture and expression for future use.

"Of course! Come visit me at the tavern tomorrow - I'll show you how to pin your hair properly." Sarah waved goodbye, leaving Amara alone with Martha and Thomas.

Thomas stared at her, mouth slightly open. His eyes kept moving from her face to her waist, then quickly away. Martha noticed and smacked the back of his head.

"Stop gawking, boy. It's not polite." Martha turned to Amara. "Are you hungry, dear? You must be famished after your ordeal."

Amara considered this. Her true form preferred fresh meat, still warm with blood. But humans ate differently. "Yes, I should eat."

"I'll fetch some bread and cheese." Martha headed toward what seemed to be a food storage area.

Thomas cleared his throat. "You look... different. In the dress, I mean. Good different."

"The fabric is... interesting." Amara smoothed the skirt, copying a gesture she'd seen Sarah make. "In Tamworth, did I wear such things? I cannot remember."

"I'm sure you did. All ladies wear dresses." Thomas stepped closer. "Your hair looks nice too."

Amara touched her black hair. Sarah had brushed it until it shone, explaining how human women maintained such things.

"Do you remember anything else?" Thomas asked. "About your life before?"

"No." Amara shook her head, remembering to blink occasionally. "Only fragments. Colors. Sounds." She paused. "Darkness."

Thomas nodded sympathetically. "It must be frightening, not remembering."

"I am not afraid," Amara said automatically. Then she remembered humans expected fear in such situations. "But... yes, it is strange. Not knowing who I was."

Martha returned with food, and Amara studied how they ate. Such inefficient feeding methods - all this cutting and chewing. She missed simply injecting digestive fluids into prey.

But she had to learn. She needed to understand these humans completely if she wanted to find magic users in Camelot. And Thomas's continued staring suggested she was at least succeeding in appearing attractive to human males.

She took a small bite of bread, careful to chew like Martha did. The texture felt wrong in her mouth, but she forced herself to swallow.

"Good?" Thomas asked eagerly.

Amara nodded, not trusting herself to speak while eating. She had much to learn about disguising herself as a human.