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The Spider’s Ballet
Chapter 023: Caveat Rituals In the Spider's Den

Chapter 023: Caveat Rituals In the Spider's Den

Deep within the forest, an ominous aura emanated from shadows into the moonlit sky. A large entourage had departed from Leoris. The ones clad in purple and blue robes carried chains attached to plates of burning incense. The group clad in burlap hooded cloaks held tethers pulling bags of supplies. At their center, Fallen offspring wearing rags surrounded the black dress and veil of the matriarch herself. Yellow pupils were glowing, keeping watch from the tree lines in the direction of their path. They bowed and lowered themselves in reverence.

Before them stood a Fallen man of outstanding stature. Unlike all the other Fallen, a long brown coat and brimmed hat casually adorned him. A two handed sword of bone or stone at his side. His skin was less gray, yet still pasty. As he removed his hat and tipped his bald head his ears were also more rounded than his brethren. As the matriarch's group drew near him, a hissing sound was audible.

The Spider moved ahead of her entourage and approached him. Her features still appeared sunken and she kept her lips pursed. After blinking a few times, the yellow light in his gaze dulled. When he spoke, he revealed teeth that were only slightly misshapen. “My lady. Save your strength and do not speak. Years of living close to man have deadened and numbed my mind, so your attempts to reach out to it may be in vain. Nonetheless, I perceived the web you were casting out. You have relayed to us that can hear your song your emotions and thoughts. Our brethren that have migrated from beyond the barrier lack leadership. But you are without a doubt the oldest and wisest that made the sojourn from the desert.” She looked at him, cocking her head and reaching out to touch his cheek with bony fingers.

He continued, “I've arrived to aid you. I can sense your anxiety towards the ones that seek to stop you here. More would have come here, but the descendants make a game of hunting our kind in the cities of man. And the most feral among us are being slain without mercy. Focus on raising our new brothers and sisters and seeking what is rightfully ours. I will slow down the threat coming from the west. If you could spare anyone to assist. It would benefit us all.”

She passed by him, moving onward. A few cloaked hunters and the fallen that accompanied her stood still by the well dressed Fallen. He bowed towards her before he motioned for them to head out into the woods heading westward.

As the spider made her way down the road through the chill of the night, an increasing number of stares opened watchfully between the pines and followed along. Branches snapped, grass shuffled, and bushes shuddered as the shadows spilled out into the darkened highway behind her. Dozens now pursued the matriarch, who halted before the wide entrance of the conservatory dome..

When she wandered in, she stared up towards the ceiling of the structure shrouded in gloom, save for the sole strand of moonlight shooting down. She looked at her entourage. The ones concealed in cloaks distorted and bent into their wretched shapes. She glanced back up at the narrow crack where light peered in.

They recognized what to do and, with their pointed limbs, they dispersed throughout the arena and began mounting the walls using their appendages to stab into the wall one notch at a time. When they reached the top outside of sight, they violently poked away, and the small hole broke and fell to the bottom, exposing the moon in its entirety above them. The reanimated creatures then ascended to the top side of the dome where they remained.

The others, her mature children, set into motion next. They hammered rings with chains attached to the surface of the area. After that, they all crowded to pull the chains together, raising up what was once a sealed off passage with a stairwell leading below. The spider and her children made their way below while yanking the lifted floor close behind them. Completely obscured by pitch black, even her progeny found the need to light torches and scones to guide them further down. Scattered pillars of breaking concrete kept the floor of the arena up.

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In the center was a makeshift throne made from the enormous trunk of an old tree and dressed in the pelts of many beasts. There were caverns that led out deep below the earth in the distance. Sacks of flesh were arranged along several pillars. Her offspring, carrying torches, passed the pillars, illuminating the human forms that felt around inside the sacks. The odor of moss and earth mixed with the smoky flowery aroma of the incense they had brought with them. The atmosphere was calming as the Fallen were going about their duties.

Displayed upon the throne was a large skeletal figure slumped over to its side. Vines formed a crown around its skull, and what was left of its clothing appeared to have once been a dress. Her long dark hair remained partly untouched by time. Cobwebs had covered what time had stripped away from her.. Luminescent mushrooms had grown at the base of the throne at her feet, giving off a slight purple light.

The matriarch reached a finger out to her skull. She hesitated for a moment, looking down at her own emaciated hand. The Spider then brought the tip of her nail to its skull. She calmly marked the word love on it before stepping back and admiring the figure. Her offspring gently carried it off the throne, and then down one of the many tunnels.

The Spider took the skeleton’s place on the throne. Resting comfortably while her children brought sustenance to her such as fresh game, water, and foliage. They milled about the area tending to the birth of their brethren. They were a functioning and supportive colony for the night.

A deep, unsettling groan came from within the largest sack in the area. The spider glanced in its direction with a grin flashing across her pale features. As it tore open, releasing fluid, it birthed a massive grey figure that fell to all fours with its face bowed towards her. Its eyelids opened once and were completely black. The dark film then slid open, revealing the same glowing eyes as his brethren. He stood before his matriarch over seven feet tall. The others brought him scraps of clothing and dressed him.

He then took his place by the throne. The matriarch caressed his head with gentle affection before she curled up on the fur of her seat. She looked out over her brood with gratification. Satisfied, she closed her eyes and began searching out the strands she had carefully laid out in the region.

Her looming presence revealed glimpses of the adventurers in turmoil. They struggled to gain their footing on her web. Gathering strength from smaller blips of life. As the threads of her design frayed, she remained confident in her position, prepared to face the challenge of steel. She saw to the west a mighty danger, like a huge serpent, that threatened to destroy her carefully woven trap. She thought about the tunnels in the area and had already begun casting her web outwards to evade danger once she had regained her strength.

All of these threats she could imagine within a dimension of her understanding and clearly visualize. However, her weariness blurred her sight in the crumbling labyrinth of her mind. Decay, ruin, and fury meant her visions were unclear. Still within the cloud of uncertainty she was vigilant and poised. And then there were the dangers she could not fully envision but sensed. Strands attached to the travelers linking to far-off places. In some circumstances they lead to even further off realms.

There was a blazing blue inferno that hung from above. Encircling a set of glaring, spectral cerulean eyes. They watched on with detached curiosity by the coming clash of beings less than itself. Below her was a void that at first glance appeared dormant. But when stared at for a considerable amount of time, strands of purple lightning illuminated it as a swirling vortex. Even deeper inside of it was a pair of crimson wings that appeared unable to move.

There were threads that curiously bound her to the mortal antlion. Both she and the antlion had cut the threads that stretched northward to her former prison. And his thread was pulling him to a place she had once been. The roots of a massive tree hidden beneath the earth and the massive broken skull of a creature that existed long before her.

She was visibly exhausted by the concepts in her mind. She opened her eyes once more to look out over her family. With a small smile and a look of fondness, her eyes narrowed and fluttered shut and she finally succumbed to a deep sleep.