The village lay quiet behind her, its flickering lights barely visible as Aracnys slipped into the surrounding forest. She moved silently, her spider legs skimming over the forest floor, her senses alert. The magic in the air hummed softly around her, and she could feel the subtle pull of the abyss deep within, urging her forward.
It didn't take long for her to find what she was looking for.
At the base of a craggy hill, nestled between thick tree roots and overgrown vines, was a cave entrance. The air around it was colder, the shadows thicker, as though the cave itself was hiding from the light of the world outside. Aracnys paused at the entrance, her eyes narrowing as she peered into the darkness beyond.
There was something about this place—something that called to her.
Without hesitation, she stepped inside.
The cave was deeper than she expected, the walls narrowing as she descended into the earth. Her spider legs twitched with each step, the cool air brushing against her skin like a whisper. The further she walked, the more she could feel it—a presence, faint but growing stronger, like a soft hum at the back of her mind.
And then she heard the voice.
["Welcome, Aracnys."]
The words echoed inside her head, soft and calm but unmistakable. Aracnys froze, her eyes scanning the darkness around her. There was no one there, no figure waiting in the shadows. But the voice was clear, and it spoke directly to her.
"Who's there?" Aracnys demanded, her voice steady despite the chill creeping down her spine.
The voice chuckled softly, as though amused by her reaction.
["I am your guide. Your assistant. I have been waiting for you."]
Aracnys frowned, her spider legs shifting uneasily. "Assistant? What do you mean?"
The voice seemed to come from all around her, a presence that filled the cave and her mind at once.
["I am here to guide you through the Divine System, a construct created by the Will of Reality itself to assist divine beings like you. It will help you understand your powers, track your influence, and grow your strength in the mortal world."]
The Divine System. Aracnys blinked, her thoughts racing. She had never heard of such a thing, but the voice spoke with certainty, as though it had existed for eons before her arrival.
"Why haven't I heard of this before?" she asked, her voice quieter now.
["You had not yet earned the right to access it,"] the voice replied. ["But now that you have completed the trials and entered the mortal realm, it is time for you to understand your true potential. The Divine System will be your tool to guide your influence."]
Before she could respond, the air in front of her shimmered, and a strange light filled the cave. Slowly, a translucent screen appeared, glowing faintly in the dark. Aracnys stared at it, her eyes wide with surprise. The screen displayed a simple, elegant interface, and at the top, her name was written in glowing text:
[Name: Aracnys, Goddess of Spiders, Rebirth, and the Abyss
Followers: 0
Current Influence Level: Minor
Domains: Spiders, Rebirth, Abyss]
Below her name, a list of abilities appeared, each one accompanied by a brief description. Aracnys leaned in closer, her eyes scanning the details.
[ Spider Whisper
Description: The user can communicate simple commands to small, natural spiders in her environment. These spiders are not divine creatures but respond instinctively to her will.
Night Vision
Description: The user can see clearly in complete darkness, a natural ability due to her connection with the abyss. This power allows her to navigate through the shadows unnoticed by most mortal beings.
Weaver of Brood
Description: The user possesses the unique ability to weave webs that can, at her will, form into eggs that birth spiders. These spiders are imbued with a fragment of her divine essence, making them loyal servants. She can control the size, abilities, and nature of these spiders, allowing them to serve her in various capacities.
Silk Spin
Description: the user can create thin, simple strands of silk from her fingers or tendrils. The silk can be used for various purposes, including binding, crafting traps, or creating complex webs.
Lure of the Abyss
Description: the users presence carries a subtle, enchanting allure that can draw mortals and creatures closer to her. This power mirrors the spider's nature as a hunter, subtly pulling those within her influence into her web.]
Aracnys stared at the screen, a strange mixture of excitement and curiosity bubbling within her. These abilities—they were more than just powers. They were the foundation of her influence, the tools she would use to shape the world around her.
The voice spoke again, breaking through her thoughts.
["These are your basic skills, reflecting your divine nature. As you grow stronger and gain more followers, new abilities will unlock, and your existing powers will evolve. The Divine System is your guide, tracking your growth and influence in the mortal realms."]
Aracnys' gaze lingered on the screen, her mind racing with the possibilities. The number of followers listed was still at zero, but that would change soon. She would build her cult, gather worshippers, and use her abilities to shape the world. Her power would grow, and with it, her influence.
"How do I gain followers?" she asked, her voice quiet but steady.
The voice hummed softly, as though pleased by the question.
["Mortals are drawn to power, mystery, and fear. You must show them why they should worship you—through miracles, through terror, through salvation. Your presence in their lives must be undeniable."]
Aracnys smiled, her eyes gleaming with determination. She could already see it—the village bowing before her, their lives entwined with her will. They would come to her, drawn by the power she wielded, and in return, they would give her the devotion she craved.
But before she could leave the cave and begin her plans, the voice spoke again.
["One more thing, Aracnys,"] it said, a note of seriousness creeping into its tone.[ "The Divine System is not just a tool for tracking your influence. It is connected to the will of reality itself. As you grow in power, the world around you will respond. Be mindful of the other gods who may sense your rise—they will not take kindly to a new player entering their domain."]
The warning hung in the air, but Aracnys didn't flinch. She had known from the beginning that this world was already claimed by other gods. But that didn't matter. She was here now, and nothing would stop her from claiming her place.
With a final glance at the screen, Aracnys turned and left the cave, her mind set on her next move.
The village lay ahead, quiet and unassuming in the night. Aracnys moved silently through the forest, her mind still buzzing with the knowledge she had gained from the Divine System. She now had a clearer understanding of her abilities—how to use them, how to grow stronger.
But it wasn't just about power. It was about influence, about creating something lasting. If she wanted to build her cult, she would need to start small—one step at a time.
As she approached the outskirts of the village, her eyes scanned the surrounding area. There were no guards posted, no sign of anyone watching. The villagers were simple people, unaware of the divine forces moving just beyond their understanding.
Good. That would make things easier.
She stopped near the edge of the forest, her eyes narrowing as she spotted something—a small shrine, half-hidden in the shadows of a grove. It was old, weathered by time and neglect, but the faint traces of magic lingered around it.
A shrine to one of the old gods, forgotten but not entirely erased.
Aracnys smiled to herself. This would be her starting point.
She approached the shrine, her movements slow and deliberate. The faint glow of her night vision allowed her to see every detail, every crack in the stone, every vine that had overtaken the once-sacred place. It had been abandoned, left to decay along with the god it had once served.
Perfect.
Aracnys knelt before the shrine, her fingers brushing against the cold stone. The energy that lingered here was faint, but she could feel it—the remnants of a power that had once held sway over this village. But it was weak now, forgotten.
Closing her eyes, she began to weave a new web.
Her fingers moved with precision, thin strands of silk flowing from her fingertips as she worked. The web spread across the surface of the shrine, covering the cracks, mending the broken stone with a delicate, intricate design.
But this wasn't just a web. It was the beginning of her influence.
With each thread she wove, she poured a fragment of her power into the shrine, connecting it to the abyss, to her domain. The magic in the air shifted, responding to her presence, and soon, the shrine began to glow faintly with a soft, silvery light.
It was no longer dedicated to the old god.
It belonged to her now.
As the final strands of the web settled into place, Aracnys stood back, admiring her work. The shrine was hers now, a small but significant foothold in the mortal world. It wasn't much, but it was a start.
She could feel the energy around her shifting, the magic responding to her presence. The mortals might not be aware of it yet, but soon they would be drawn to the shrine, curious about the strange new power that had taken hold of their village.
It wouldn't take long for word to spread. The villagers would come, seeking answers, seeking guidance. And when they did, she would be there to greet them.
But she wasn't finished yet.
Aracnys turned her gaze to the forest around her, her mind reaching out to the spiders that lived in the shadows. They were small, insignificant to most, but to her, they were the perfect servants.
Spider Whisper.
The power thrummed through her, and she felt the presence of the spiders respond. They crawled out from the trees, the bushes, the ground beneath her feet—hundreds of tiny legs skittering toward her, drawn by her call.
She knelt down, her hand outstretched as the spiders gathered around her. They were simple creatures, bound to the natural world, but they would do as she commanded.
"Guard this place," she whispered, her voice low and steady. "Watch over the shrine. Let no one defile it."
The spiders obeyed, scattering into the shadows, their small bodies disappearing into the crevices of the shrine. They would remain there, unseen but vigilant, ensuring that her new foothold remained undisturbed.
Aracnys stood, her gaze shifting back to the village. The shrine was secured, her influence slowly spreading, but there was still much to do.
She would need followers, people who would dedicate their lives to her, who would spread her name across the land. And she knew exactly where to start.
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There was a man in the village—a healer, known for his skill in treating the sick and wounded. He was respected by the villagers, but lately, his abilities had been failing him. Disease had begun to spread, and despite his best efforts, he could not stop it.
He would be the first to join her.
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The healer's house was small, tucked away at the edge of the village, surrounded by herbs and plants he had cultivated over the years. Aracnys approached silently, her eyes scanning the area for any signs of movement. The village was still quiet, most of the inhabitants asleep, unaware of the goddess who now walked among them.
She stopped in front of the healer's door, her spider legs twitching with anticipation. The power of the abyss stirred within her, ready to act, but she held it back for now. This had to be done carefully.
With a gentle knock, she waited.
Moments later, the door creaked open, and an elderly man peered out, his face lined with age and exhaustion. His eyes were tired, but there was a spark of curiosity in them as he looked at her.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice hoarse from years of work and worry.
Aracnys smiled, her eyes gleaming in the faint moonlight. "I am someone who can help you."
The healer frowned, his hand gripping the doorframe as he studied her. "Help me? How?"
"You've been struggling," Aracnys said, her voice soft but commanding. "Your patients are dying, and no matter what you do, the disease continues to spread. You've tried everything, but nothing works."
The healer's expression darkened, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I... I don't know what else to do."
Aracnys stepped closer, her presence calm and steady. "I can give you the power to save them. I can show you how to stop the disease, how to heal those you've lost."
The healer's eyes widened, a flicker of hope sparking in his tired gaze. "How? What must I do?"
Aracnys smiled, her voice as smooth as silk. "All you have to do... is believe."
The healer stared at her, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts. His patients, the disease, the desperation that had taken hold of the village—it all weighed on him, dragging him down into a pit of despair. But now, here stood a stranger, offering him hope.
"Believe?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Believe in what?"
"In me," Aracnys said, her voice filled with quiet power. "I am a goddess. And I can save your village."
The healer's breath caught in his throat. A goddess? It seemed impossible, yet there was something about her—something otherworldly, something powerful. He could feel it in the air around her, in the way her eyes gleamed in the darkness.
"I... I don't understand," he stammered. "Why would a goddess help us? Why would you help me?"
"Because your people are on the brink of ruin," Aracnys said softly. "And I am here to offer salvation. But I cannot do it alone. I need followers—people who will spread my name, who will build a cult in my honor. If you join me, I will give you the power to heal. You will be the first of my disciples."
The healer's hands trembled, his mind torn between fear and hope. He had heard stories of gods and goddesses before, but never had he imagined one would come to his village, offering such a gift. The disease had taken so many already, and more were dying each day. He was helpless, powerless to stop it.
But if she could...
He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto hers. "What must I do?"
"Swear your loyalty to me," Aracnys said, her voice low and commanding. "Become my disciple, and I will give you the power to heal. In return, you will spread my name, build a shrine in my honor, and gather others to worship me."
The healer hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. It was a risk—an unimaginable choice. But he had no other options. If he did nothing, the village would fall, and he would have failed his people.
With a final, shaky breath, he knelt before her. "I swear," he whispered, his voice trembling with both fear and hope. "I will serve you."
Aracnys smiled, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Then rise, my disciple. Your power begins now."
The first thread of her cult had been woven.