Kar'niss watched in fascinated silence as his precious spark drained the day's hunt of blood, letting the crimson liquid flow into a wooden bowl. His spark, his treasure, greater even than the moonlantern had been.

He leaned down, his arachnid legs bending gracefully, and reached out a clawed hand to take the bowl. This was a kindness. He needed a blood meal every four days to not deteriorate, as every drider did, and that another creature would willingly provide was...

The drider's scarred lips parted, his copper irises and many spider eyes gazing down pensively at the deep red filling the bowl. Her Majesty had been oddly quiet since he'd found his spark wandering the Shadow-Cursed Lands with only a torch for protection. There had been no fear in the wayward traveler's eyes when he approached, and the closer he'd gotten, the quieter the many voices had become. The quieter they had become, the more Kar'niss had felt like his own person. Now there was no "we" anymore, only "I."

Kar'niss was no longer speaking to himself, lost in his own mind. He was speaking to another. The sense of shame and hatred was gone. He almost felt drow again.

It had scared him at first, being unable to hear Her Majesty. He'd been supposed to serve Her; that had been the purpose of his existence. Now he had cast his duty aside, and for a non-believer, no less. A non-believer, and yet...and yet. The spark had spoken softly to him, had touched him, and something in Kar'niss's mind had clicked into place. Like a spark, igniting his long-extinguished soul. He hadn't realized just how cold and hollow his existence as a drider had been until then, but now his chest burned, his heart overflowing with light. A spark. His spark.

He looked at the now-empty moonlantern. The pixie within was gone, as was the curse she'd shielded them from. "You are a gift to us. To...to me," he whispered, holding the bowl in his palms. "Her Majesty has bestowed upon me the greatest of blessings. Whatever the price, I will keep you safe."