Do spiders sleep? Now, that’s one hell of a good question to ask in this situation.
The answer? No, they do not. Mainly because spiders don’t have eyelids. And we can all agree that, if they did, they’d be much more terrifying than they already are.
Now, luckily for Issekina, arachne didn’t have such a problem since they were still half human.
But that raises the question: how does an arachne sleep?
The answer: in chaos.
Have you ever had to share a room with a brother or sister? Yes? Well, in that case, imagine doing the same thing, but with a hundred siblings. And the room is actually a forest covered in spider silk from top to bottom. And the siblings have the ability to climb the walls and, sometimes, even the ceiling.
After imagining this, do a little bit of introspection and realize that maybe your sibling isn’t the worst person in the world to share a room with. Of course, they’ll never have to know and you’ll take that knowledge to the grave.
Arachne, as Issekina found out, could and would sleep in any position imaginable. Some, the normal ones, would just find a comfortable spot on the ground and fall asleep in a bed of bushes with covers of spider silk (or actual covers, which she had no idea where they came from). Others would find it more comfortable to stay inside an impromptu hammock, which their Guardians would make for them on the spot. A few liked the idea of sleeping on branches and secured themselves with some of their own silk so as not to fall during the night.
Finally, there were the ‘beasts of Satan’, as she had come to call them, who would hang upside down from a branch by curling their legs around it, and somehow neither fall nor tire.
Issekina? Right now she was having a mental argument with her counterpart.
No, no and then no! I am not doing that!
Oh come on! You’ve got to try it at least once! It’s super comfortable! I distinctly recall loving it when I was alive.
I am not hanging upside down from a branch to sleep! And what’s comfortable about having all the blood flowing towards your head?
Hey! That’s a wonderful sensation! Really, you should try.
I will not sleep upside down. I am already half a spider and have no interest in getting some bat qualities.
That is extremely offensive! We’re nothing like bats.
Then don’t make me sleep upside down like one of them.
Fine! You party pooper.
Issekina sighed and scuttled around, looking for somewhere nice to sleep. She looked at a group of bushes and, immediately, decided it would not be comfortable, even if it was covered in spider silk, which was surprisingly soft.
That’s when she heard a little screech coming from above. It was one among many: after all, none of the newborn arachne were capable of speaking yet. Still, this one in particular seemed to call to her. She looked up and there, hanging from a hammock, was her little friend spun of darkness.
Hah, nice way to put it!
For some reason, from the moment she had accepted all of this was real and felt the name settle in her, the Voice had become cheerful.
She walked towards the tree trunk, and hesitated. She had seen her other sisters (only sisters, no brothers) just up and ascend these trees as if their spider legs had some kinda superglue at their end, but she was afraid she’d fall and break her neck and die again.
...Well, you’d have to fall from pretty high up. Us arachne are a little more hardy than humans. Or most other species, truth be told. Falling from a tree won’t kill you.
Oh, because that’s so reassuring coming from you.
Listen, this body is also mine for the time being, and I’m pretty sure that, if you die, I die too, so trust me when I say you won’t die from a simple fall. Now, stop whining and start climbing. At least you probably won’t be like one of those normies sleeping on the ground.
The word ‘normie’ coming from the Voice was so out of place it actually managed to get a chuckle out of her.
She put one of her legs on the tree, then another. Then a third. And a fourth.
Soon, she was hanging from the trunk, her human body parallel to the ground. She felt the strain in her legs, and already she was starting to feel like she needed to rest.
She climbed upwards towards her friend.
When she reached her the dark arachne hugged her and smiled excitedly. Issekina got the sensation that, had she been able to talk, her friend would have started chattering without end about what it had felt like, being Looked at, receiving her name.
Issekina realized she wanted to know her friend’s name.
Then her mind froze for a second: when had she started to call that little girl friend? When had it started to feel so right?
Seems like that chatterbox was right. You two are soulmates. Lucky us!
Speak of the devil: Makira, the Smiling Woman, climbed the tree they were on and smiled at them. She didn’t look tired at all.
"There you are. I knew you’d want to stay together. Give me a second Anda, I’ll get Isse here a hammock in a moment!"
And then she started producing spider silk out of her…
Don’t you dare say it’s her butthole!
The Voice was more like a scream.
... I wasn’t!
Yes you were! If you’ve forgotten, I’m in your head!
Oh no! The thought police!
She chuckled internally.
Meanwhile Makira was making a hammock. She produced spider silk and weaved it together in criss-crossing patterns with a speed that would have let her win any cat’s cradle game anywhere in the world.
Finally, she hung the finished product on two trees and smiled.
"There, done! Now you two can sleep near each other."
That said, she skittered off to help another little arachne settle down.
Issekina, or Isse for Makira (she actually preferred the nickname), walked onto the hammock and tested it gingerly. It gave a bit, but it was surprisingly solid. She shuffled around, then sat down.
And it was the most comfortable thing she’d ever slept in in her entire life.
So you’re a ‘hanger’. Well, better than being one of the ‘grounded’ at least.
Are you actually serious or are you making fun of me?
I’m extremely serious. That’s how arachne call each other.
Why do you even do that?
Because it’s funny, and because it lets people who sleep up high feel superior.
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...You lot make no sense at all.
You talk as if you humans make sense. Who would be sadistic enough to spend all of their youth in schools and studying, never getting enough sleep.
Before they could start bantering again, her little friend hugged her.
Instinctively Isse hugged Anda back.
And then a voice sounded around the clearing.
"Calm down little ones. Night has come. It’s time to sleep."
The voice came from an old looking arachne. Her skin was brownish, as if she’d just come out of the sun after tanning for ten hours straight. Her hair was gray, with a few spots of… blue? Yep, that was definitely blue, and it didn’t look like she’d colored it. Her eyes were a deep, dark, blue, too. Like the waters of the ocean during a sunny day, with an endless abyss of darkness awaiting.
She looked at all the little arachne and smiled. The smile was kind and a bit resigned, even pained, as if she knew what came next. As if she’d seen all this countless times.
"Everyone found their spot?"
She looked around as countless eyes stared at her, questioning how they could possibly sleep right now. They felt so energized!
"Good. Then, let us begin. [Goodnight Story]."
And she began to tell them their story.
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Once upon a time, millenia ago, during the Age of Legends, there was a [Hero]. His name… was Houlan, and he was the greatest champion of the Gods. He was part of all the greatest wars, from the Crusade of Glass to the Wars of the Bridges.
He served every rightful cause he could from the day he picked up a sword, at the age of eighteen. He was gifted, so much so that, by the time he had reached the age of twenty five, he was already a Level 34 [Righteous Swordsman].
When he managed to reach Level 40, not five years later, the Gods chose him to be their messenger, to fight for them, to do their bidding. He accepted, becoming a [Chosen Swordsman of the Gods]. He served them all, but first among them was Richker, the God of War, who had followed him from the very first moment, guiding him and, sometimes, even helping him. For that was a time when the Gods could still touch our world without punishment.
So the brave [Swordsman] fought for what he believed was right. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. We are not Judges. We have not the right to say if he was right or not.
With all this, Houlan was still human. Still a mortal. Oh, he lived a long life, longer than most, considering what he did. But still, a mortal life. And, as all mortals do, one day, he died.
He died, surrounded by the people he loved, by those he had helped, and by those he had served under. He died with a smile on his face, for he was happy, knowing he had done everything in his power.
That day, the world cried and fell silent. Even the Gods.
Until one of them made a fatal decision. The God of War was a general and a soldier at heart. He had seen every battle from the creation of the world. And he had seen few heroes like Houlan. So he decided to defy Death itself.
He walked upon the Lands of the Dead, in the place where the souls of the good, the deserving, rested, awaiting reincarnation. He walked those places, and found Houlan’s soul. He asked the [Hero] to keep serving him and the other Gods, to go back and keep being the legend he had been.
Houlan, the poor fool, accepted. He had always been a loyal servant of theirs.
So it was that the Gods, together, worked a grand ritual and, defying Death, brought the man back in his body, rejuvenating it, giving him all the time he could ever desire and then more.
They brought a soul back from the Land of the Dead.
And actions like that, have consequences.
Death was furious, for the Gods had gone against the one Law that had ever persisted since the creation of All: None Shall Come Back from Her Rest.
So it was that Death met the Gods, and asked them to unmake what they had done. She came in kindness, first, reminding them of their Vows.
Yet the Gods laughed at that, uncaring, for they were Gods, and that was but one soul out of the many who had always respected the Law.
This angered Death even more. So he promised that they’d regret what they had done, that they would remember the days to come, and never again break its one Law.
The nature of gods is Creation. The nature of Death is Endings. The second of the Oldest Laws stated: One Shall Not Make the Other’s Workings.
But one Law had been broken. So another must too, for Balance was the most important thing of all.
So, for the first time since the Age of Beginnings, Death Created.
She Created Arachne.
Monsters sewn together from the darkest nightmares and the souls of those condemned to the Nothingness. Hunters, made to be unstoppable, capable of harnessing the greatest of Magics: Soul Magic. The Magic of the World itself.
We walked into the world one night. And started our Age of Hunts.
The humans panicked and feared, for where we walked nothing was left behind but silk and Death. They sent their [Heroes], and we beat them all.
The Gods sent him, Houlan, and we tore him apart, first in body, then in soul, that the Gods may never again try to bring him back. That the Gods may know this was their fault.
They sent their own [Hunters]. Armed with faith and knowledge from the Gods themselves, they could cut our thread and our Magics. They tried to end us, end the ‘Plague of Silk’ as we were called. They failed. But we were stymied.
Today, we live and hunt in the dark, not as powerful as the day we were born, but still there. A reminder to the Gods of their great Sin. A reminder that Laws are not meant to be broken, for that causes only chaos.
Our Hunt is still on. It is just a matter of finding the right moment to strike.
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As goodnight stories went, this one was the worst she’d ever heard.
Granted, she’d grown up with her father creating stories for her each night. Issekina smiled at the memory: since she’d been five years old, her dad had walked in her room each night and, even when things weren’t the best, even when something was wrong, smiling, asked her what she wanted the story to be about. The stories always had her as a protagonist and two other things of her choice.
And he always began the stories this way: “This is a story about ■■■■■■, a ball and a garden.”
Or something like that. Other kids grew up with stories like Little Red Riding Hood or Cinderella or things like that. Meanwhile she had always had a new story with her as the protagonist.
Still, even though this goodnight story was, well, more like a badnight story meant to give you nightmares, she still felt sleepy.
While the old arachne told the tale, she could see her sisters slowly start to nod away into the land of dreams.
She tried to resist, because it felt unnatural, but the voice was soothing. Anda had snuggled down in her hammock, an arm still around her waist, her head on a silk pillow, snoozing silently.
By the time the old woman finished her tale, an expression of melancholy in her eyes, Issekina closed her eyes and drifted away.
And the forest was silent.
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Have you ever had a lucid dream? It’s one of those dreams where you know you’re dreaming and can change the way everything looks, bending ‘reality’ to your will.
Issekina, personally, had never had the pleasure. Until now.
She opened her eyes.
And stared at a flying castle.
Her brain, or part of it, took its sweet time to register what was happening and understand it. Then her mouth opened wide.
Meanwhile, in the real world, her sleeping self opened her mouth and started munching on some hair… because.
She stared at the giant flying castle with a great oak tree sprouting up towards the lightless ‘sky’, roots hanging down from the earth under the palace.
The place looked pristine, with archways of white stone all around the walls, making it look like the Coliseum. Painted windows overlooked the outside with scenes from her past life, both sad and happy. It made her feel nostalgic.
"This place doesn’t look half bad."
Said a voice right beside her. No, not a voice, the Voice.
She turned… and saw another arachne. She was an adult, her light green hair cut short in what she presumed was a bobby cut. Her heterochromic eyes, one red, the other green, were staring down at her. She was smirking.
"You’re the Voice."
Issekina said helpfully.
"And you’re the thief."
She answered back.
"And please, stop calling me Voice. I have a name and it’s Issekina."
"...Yeah, I know, but that’s my name too, and it would make things quite weird if I were to call you that."
The Voice chuckled, her head moving while her hair stayed in place, as if they weren’t part of her.
"Ha! No, dear, that’s where you’re wrong: Issekina is my name. You, on the other hand, have none. Because this body isn’t yours. So you can go pick a name for yourself. Or ask Grandma for another one. I don’t care, so long as you give me back my body."
At that, Isse stopped and stared at the Voice’s body. And felt angry.
"Go fuck yourself."
The Voice opened her mouth as if to interject, then stopped, registering what had just been said. Then she laughed.
"Oh, you’ve got balls, I’ve gotta give you that. Who do you think you are, little human, to take my place? Look at yourself! You cannot even accept your new nature. In your mind you still see yourself as a human. You won’t survive in this world as you are. You’ll be torn apart."
The Voice smirked.
"And I’m all for seeing that."
She turned away from her and skittered towards the palace.
"’Till that day, I’ll be waiting here. And when you’ll have enough, I’ll be there to take my place and put an end to this farce."
She started laughing.
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And then she woke up, new words resounding in her head:
[Condition: Hostile Halved Soul]