The central chamber swarmed with over a thousand Silkborne, their silence palpable. Amidst the sea of arachnid bodies, Rivel stood prominently, towering over a fragile, crippled spider hatchling laid upon a old black marble altar. The air reeked of decay, wafting from the ancient Mausoleum's depths as the High Magus prepared the incantation. The cave's luminescence had dwindled, plunging the space into an eerie twilight. The lightbugs had been largely extinguished, their energy diverted to fuel the most majestic and intricate web Rivel had ever beheld.

Layers upon layers of inextricable drawings solidified each other to the point that even a whirlwind would get stuck on it. It hung over the whole cave like a bed canopy, and below it, the tiny hatchling barely moved. The queen loomed over the event with her gigantic frame, and Akyne clicked his mandibles in expectation. In his mind, Rivel had already failed, and he was moments away from taking the first bite of the offender. Rivel smirked at how these mundanes assumed him so weak that he couldn't carry out a simple summoning spell. He faced toward the Mausoleum, raised his hand toward the void beyond, and chanted:

"Arise, O Rot! Riding thy fetid winds, bring the scourge of Maggots, Flies, and Locusts! Summon thy legion of crawling horrors, that they may feast upon nothing but Rot.

Conjure thy offspring, those squirming, writhing abominations, and let their ravenous maws tear their way into our world.

Through the compound eyes of thy children, behold our decay, our flesh succumbing to the relentless tide of corruption.

Come forth, O Rot, bring thy winds of pest! Maggots, flies, and locusts, descend upon us!"

The earth quaked, and stalactites fell harmlessly over the observers. The smell of decay intensified. Suddenly, it was as if Rivel stood on a month-old island of dead bodies, surrounded by a sea of stagnant, coagulated blood. Then, he looked at the hatchling, and the spiderling squirmed, standing unnaturally over the altar.

Then, silence.

The minutes stretched, and all remained expectant, unmoving. Rivel took a few steps back and ducked a little.

Arkyne was the first to move. "Ha! All against the impostor! Eat the liar!" But the Queen's booming voice stifled him. "Silence, fool! Something isn't –" but even her voice was soft compared to the explosion that came thereafter. Flies shot from the little hatchling's every orifice, and from its belly gushed worms and maggots of every type and size, flowing like a river.

The hatchling made a noise of inconceivable pain, so acute it couldn't be heard, only felt. The vermiculae creatures made their way to the crowd, and the flying insects prepared their hungry maws to gorge themselves with the flesh of the arachnids. But little did they know that it was their time to be on the other side of hunger. With zero remorse or pity for the little hatchling that still squirmed as the thousand creatures flowed from its insides, all Silkborne pounded on the worms and chewed them in ecstasy. Soon, the spaces for the worm table were all taken, so the others started climbing the web and attacking the locusts and flies.

Rivel dissociated himself from the horrible acts of depravity occurring around him. He didn't think of the life he'd anointed and sacrificed to the Rot; his eyes observed sightlessly the creatures in their foodlust. He walked over the masses of blue and red organs; the sickly green and milky white were like a Pollock on a canvas for him. He only considered how much better the spell went than he expected. 'I have to get more of whatever that flower is,' he mused.

Eventually, nothing remained of the event but spots of unknown liquid on the floor. The cobweb, as iron-like as it seemed, had collapsed at some point due to the sheer weight. Even the little hatchling had disappeared completely, used thoroughly and entirely.

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Rivel waited for the queen to finish cleaning herself and attending to other royal duties in a comfy chair the now-grateful Silkborne had fetched for him to wait in the courtroom, no doubt the spoils of some humanoid race that probably ceased to be when they came into contact with these...

"Savages..." whispered Rivel. He observed the rest of the room, admiring the furnishings of the royalty. It was quite queer, seeing how this spider colony had taken concepts that clearly weren't developed by them, such as peerage, and made their own macabre interpretation of it. He saw how, moments after finishing replenishing force, some weavers came inside the palace and started creating complex murals highly artistic depictions of the Queen and her people, solely with cobwebs.

As of now, a red-striped Silkborne with extra thin legs (for more finesse?) winked four eyes at Rivel as it began depicting a humanoid with his hand over his head, releasing cute depictions of food like tiny meat morsels and ham legs into the air, and a crowd of happy spiders cheering him. This particular "piece" was secluded into a small sector, concealed in the bigger picture. Rivel smiled at how thoughtful insectoids could be with a full belly. 'Better keep supplying them,' he thought, 'wouldn't want to turn into a different focus of their thoughts.' He smiled at the Silkborne that merrily bowed and continued its work.

The Queen's heavy steps echoed into the room as she made her way to her place in the palace, right next to the eggs. No throne had been created; he supposed it was due to chairs being a foreign concept to spiders. He took a knee and greeted Nyxaria. She nodded and addressed the mage.

"Hope we haven't kept you waiting for too long, Lord Rivel."

He inwardly winced at the change of attitude, hoping his decisions hadn't accidentally secured him a place as the Silkborne's court food dispenser.

"Not at all, my Queen. If I may, now that our moods are settled, I feel the lack of parties isn't the only plight that scourges your people."

The Queen looked at him quizzically. Arkyne interrupted, with a hint of annoyance in his voice:

"The outsider means to ask if we have other problems besides hunger, Nyxoria."

The Queen made an understanding noise. "I see. My bad; idiomatic expressions sometimes get lost. You understand. Your eyes are quite keen for having so little of them, Lord Rivel. Indeed, we have other problems as well, but unfortunately, no amount of flying insects will suffice to solve it. You will be rewarded for your assistance: I'll have you escorted to the outer caves, the nearest place to the surface. Then, you might continue doing whatever it is you were doing before so crassly defacing our Mausoleum with your sudden presence."

Rivel's eyes twitched. The stupid insect dared betray him the second after he saved them from starvation!

"My Queen! This is not what we agreed upon!"

Nyxoria snorted. "Ah, yes. Your little war, I remember. The Silkborne are in quite a delicate position as of now, Lord Rivel. We cannot assist you in any other capacity that guides to the surface, where you belong. I'm sure you'll take this opportunity and leave at once, before we change our minds and decide to put a more aggressive end to our partnership." She gestured to the guards approaching him threateningly from the sides.

Rivel gritted his teeth. "I can help..."

"What was that, Lord Rivel?" she asked in a mocking tone.

"I can help you defeat your enemies. I can bring pain onto them like no other and feed their lifeline to you."

"You did plenty, Rivel. And your assistance is no longer required. You will be leaving this place, or you will be forced to. Tonight, you'll rest in the chambers my servants have prepared for you. Tomorrow, you will depart. The population has already been informed. Dismissed." She waved her paw and sent Rivel away.

The guards escorted him to a box room with a simple bed. He sat on it and racked his brains. "What happened!?"

"Everything was going so smoothly; it's almost as if... Oh, no! That Baldy bitch! She must have overheard my soliloquy and informed the queen of the possible danger I represent. Foolish, foolish!" He grabbed his head. "Why must I always think aloud! Now what do I do? I need forces! I can't do this alone; I need minions, support, a base of operations... I need food. I tried to be so civil; I pushed the negotiations, and now look at this irony... I'm starving!"

A soft rapping came from the door. Rivel paled. Had they come to kill him?

"Who is it? Speak!"

The door opened softly, and from the crack, two slim, delicate black limbs with red stripes made their way in...