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The World We Lived In
Chapter 62: The Dark Races of Nuremnia

Chapter 62: The Dark Races of Nuremnia

Raine considered returning to Dragon’s Rest to plan, but Aranis was already set on traveling to Aspaci. She did ask the cat-eared human if he wanted to go back first, but after a short deliberation, he wanted to get everything over with so that he could focus on the saturation pool project Jonas proposed. While he enjoyed getting another adventure, his responsibilities as the town's mayor came first. Jonas was a competent and helpful deputy, but even he was aware that he did not have that much authority when it came to trade deals, which was usually something that Raine was capable of. Knowing this, he resolved to help Narati and return to his duties as soon as possible.

He had not traveled deep into the Emerald Valley ever since he returned. Most of his time was used to properly settle Dragon’s Rest and make the town more appealing for newcomers to move in. The change of pace from all the paperwork and the negotiations was appreciated. He should also take his time appreciating the green scenery before the season changed. From the coldness in the air, he could tell that autumn was coming.

But the scenery could not stop him from wondering about what happened back in the Forest of Fear. What did Aranis do to make the Mygaleans gasp? Knowing that keeping his question unanswered would not make things better for him, he walked beside the dark-wood elf to ask her about it.

“What did you say back there? About the Lore of the Loom?” asked Raine. “Sounds important.”

“It is a piece of their history, recorded onto the orb she gave me,” explained Aranis. “Only Mygaleans are supposed to be able to read it. It’s a language ‘written’ in string patterns. One of the hardest writings to read and to preserve."

"And you can read it because?"

"They are not the first Mygaleans I met," said Aranis. "There were others deep in the forested regions of the Valley who are more tolerant to us. Let's just say they are our neighbors in Shal'viga."

“That explains a lot. But a ball of silk? How are you supposed to preserve a ball of spider silk? It isn't exactly a ball of yarn made out of wool."

"Mygalean silk is smooth to touch, but as tough as steel and as elastic as a rubber. A skilled weaver could create an armor from it. Alas, it cannot compare with the likes of mithril, which is a true metal. A strong enough concentrated force could still rip the silk apart."

"Huh," said Raine, acknowledging the new bits of information. "The more you know. You seem to know more about these spiders than I will ever will. I was only there because they asked for me. Turned out I’m just a third wheel and a nuisance. I almost ruined our chance of getting Nara back."

“No, not exactly. She’s just playing with you, that’s all. Mygaleans can be very persuasive that way, especially since they like to judge people based on how they handle changing situations and enjoy their reactions. They are storytellers by heart.”

“You mean, that part about Nara strangling one of them is exaggeration?”

“No, I don’t it was, but the part where they will punish him is.” Aranis’s expression became sad. “Poor thing. He was caught by the one race that enjoyed seeing their prey suffer. I hope, for their sake, that they don’t make it worse for him…or they will have us to answer for.”

“Damn right.” Raine then sighed. “Still. Aspaci. I never thought I’d hear that kingdom’s name again. Tell me. Is it as bad as it was?”

“I have not returned to that part of the Valley for decades, but I have heard stories about their decadence. Hell’s Paradise is what most people call the kingdom. It is said that it is where you will find forbidden pleasures beyond what most people could ever imagine. There are also stories about old religion worship, and by old, I mean the demonic ones.”

“Demons. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s the case. I happened to have faced one of them a short while ago,” said Raine, remembering the first job he had with Jacques and Narati. “Not that I’m surprised. Aspaci has always been a blight to the Valley. If you want to find someone, you go to the kingdom. The thing is, we risk war with them if we go there as Knights. Which is why the kingdom’s practically untouchable. Officially, that is.”

“Is that why you left the Knights?”

Raine chuckled. “Nah. I left the Knights on good terms. I never want a career in law enforcement. Too rigid, too formal."

“And being a mayor isn’t the same?”

“Maybe one day, when the town’s too big to handle and I spend by whole day pushing papers.” Raine let out a sigh. “When this is all over, I owe Narati a trip to Cavilen. Let him experience a pastoral life with no worries, even if it’s just for a while. Let him meet the folks. I'm sure they wouldn't mind a Fa'ar in their midst. The kid needs it after everything that happened lately. He lost Jacques, he almost lost Karkas, and now he got involved with the Mygaleans. Even after we made sure he was well-cared for, he still got himself in trouble. It’s not even his fault.”

Aranis could add his regret of dealing the killing blow on the dragon, but she thought Raine already knew that. This penchant of getting himself in trouble made the elf wonder if it had something to do with the latest revelation about Fa’ars. She could just be thinking too much into it. Narati was not the one capable of casting spells, although he did not react as expected after Aether exposure.

The elf shook her head. Narati was Narati. He was not some nightmarish monster who rejected nature and was condemned by the forest elves. He was a child who lost everything and was now regaining it. With their help. Fear of the uncertain could ruin their budding friendship.

Thus she decided to trust the Mygaleans that he would be treated well as a hostage. She always knew the spider ladies were women of their words, even if they were different from her neighbors. It was a story she told to Raine as they continued their travel to Aspaci. It was a story in her youth, one where she was more adventurous and brash. To her amusement, Raine was surprised that Aranis was once brash, something that he would not associate with an elf. She did have twice the time to be a wiser person when compared to a human, though she admitted that she wished she kept it.

“I only change because I do not wish to be looked down for being a dark elf,” said Aranis. “There was once a time when drow elves and dark elves were synonymous, even though we cannot be similar in many ways.”

“Drow?”

“A different kind of elf populating the Northern Territories and, unfortunately, Nuremnia. Like Fa’ars and Mygaleans, they were considered a Dark race. I have no respect for their attachment to their past glories, although they do have a certain…dark charisma that I find endearing. Like all races, there are many who rejected their expectations, so do not assume they are evil just because they are drow elves. If you must know how they look like, they have blueish gray skin, longer ears, and silver or white hair. You would be surprised how charming they can be."

Raine chuckled. “I guess even elves are not that reserved when it comes to love. You are the first elf I know that’s not some stuck-up, emotionless figure who thinks they’re better because they’re much older.”

“That is…quite a description. Do you consider me as such?”

“Other than the way you talk, no. You’re good.”

“What is wrong with the way I talk?”

“Too posh.”

“Posh? Ah. I believe it gives an aura of respect. Also, it reminds people that I am an elf, despite of, and I quote, ‘too dark-skinned’.”

“What?! Who said that?!”

“A visitor. None from Dragon’s Rest. Perhaps they were not used to seeing a dark-skinned, cat-eyed elf amidst them. Oh dear. Now that I said it out loud, I do look unusual.”

“Oh, don’t think too much about it, Aranis. And stop being so posh.”

“Try to undo 50-years of habit,” said Aranis with a cheeky smile and a wink. “It makes quite a challenge.”

Raine could only chuckle in response. He wouldn’t be so bored, after all.

***

The same couldn’t be said for Narati, however, who remained a hostage among the Mygaleans and who couldn’t do anything but wait.

The Mygaleans were considerate enough to give him privacy when he needed, although his freedom was limited. He was kept inside a cage made out of tree branches and spider silk hung over the ground, surrounded by cocoons that Narati assumed to be their previous victims, some of which still wriggling like worms. It made for a macabre sight, something that Narati did not mind, but would certainly ruined someone's day. The cage was well-furnished, though he wasn’t sure if he wanted to sleep on a thick cobweb. That soon changed when he, despite his reluctance, lay on the bed, noting that it was smooth and comfortable. He thought they would be sticky and gross, but instead, he could sleep as comfortably as he was in his own bedroom, albeit with almost none of the privacy due to the guards posted outside his cage.

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At least he was treated well, especially when it comes to hygiene. It wasn’t perfect, but they gave him a private place to relieve himself. Granted, he couldn’t find a good opportunity to try and escape, but at least it was better than wetting himself and getting beaten up for it. Somehow, despite their monstrous appearances, they treated him much better than the humans or beast people who only saw him as a commodity and not a sapient being. He wondered if it was Tulis’s influence, because clearly, none of the other victims were as lucky.

Tulis, feeling responsible for putting Narati in such a situation, requested to be the one caring for the Fa’ar. Her ‘sisters’, none of whom related by blood, objected, reasoning that it would work against them as they wouldn’t trust Narati to be considerate. Tulis retorted by saying that she would be the judge of that, as she could easily revoke Narati’s privileges if he turned out to be an inconsiderate Fa’ar, one that they thought he was when he angrily cursed at them.

And so, for the next three days, she was the only Mygalean, aside from Rachna, to converse with the Fa’ar. The situation afforded to them gave Narati an opportunity to learn a bit more about Tulis, and of the Mygaleans at large.

“Are you sure I’m not going to make you lose your standing among your sisters?” asked Narati during one of Tulis’s visits. “They don’t seem to regard me well.”

“I can easily make your life miserable, as do my sisters,” said Tulis. “But you have to thank your dark elf friend.”

“Aranis? Oh, is it about her being able to read your language?”

Tulis nodded. “It spread through the forest, which also surprises a lot of us since you happen to be friends with her. Rachna has also taken a liking on you.”

“The queen? Really?”

“Just don’t…pander her too much or you’ll find yourself at the end of a wrong stick. And I mean it. You, see, Narati…there is this thing called a ‘fetish’, and I don’t mean the one people worshipped. I mean something that can stimulate you, which can come from many things. Some of which are pain related,. Sometimes, psychological torture can have the unintended effect of….”

Tulis stopped when she noticed Narati’s disgusted expression where he squinted his eyes.

“There are people that enjoy torture, but on the receiving end of it,” said Narati, whose disgust was apparent when he made the conclusion. “I’ve heard enough. That feels like an insult to me.”

The Mygalean shrugged. “It is what it is, Narati. There are certain things that you better off not knowing.”

Narati sighed. “It’s a shame. You are alright to me, but after hearing that—”

“Not every Mygalean does that, Narati. I don’t.”

“That’s what you said.”

“Exactly. Unless you think of me that way, then that’s on you. I know myself better than you.”

Narati did not expect Tulis to be so witty. Despite her cold, to-the-point attitude, she was not as rigid as Narati thought during their short time fighting together as a team. The fact that her arachnoid face was also hard to read could be another factor to his assumption.

Attempting to change the topic, Narati found a palm-sized spider and promptly grabbed it, causing Tulis to react strongly.

“Hold on! Don’t grab it like that!” she exclaimed. “Put your hand under it and let it crawl on you!”

Narati, taken aback by Tulis’s sudden outburst, put the spider down. It scurried away.

“Sorry. I didn’t expect you to be so panicked,” said an apologetic Narati.

“That’s because they are part of our colony too! Who taught you to grab a spider like that? It's like you're pouncing at it!"

“Uh….”

Tulis, realizing what she said, abruptly said, “Never mind. I didn’t expect anyone to grab it like that. Most of the time, they’re scared stiff of a spider that size.”

“Is that why you all look different to one another?”

“If you know your spiders, you know Mygaleans. For example, I am a trapdoor spider Mygalean. Dull name, I know. But there is a stark difference between a true spider and a Mygalean. I think it’s obvious enough for you.”

“I’ve never seen spiders with bright blue eyes and split lower jaws. And spiders don't speak."

“But we resemble spiders, even though we’re humanoid in appearance. So, let's leave it at that."

“Why do you call yourself a trapdoor spider?”

“My namesake is a type of burrowing spider that makes its nest underground. The trapdoor part is because of its way of hunting preys by creating a trapdoor where they would jump and pounce on them. I tried to emulate that kind of behavior, which to be frank, is very useful when you need the element of surprise.”

Narati nodded, understanding Tulis’s explanation.

“So, how about Rachna, then? I never seen spiders with red accents like her before,” asked the Fa’ar.

“That’s because it’s rare to see a black widow spider these days, at least out in the desert. She’s also the only one who belongs to that Mygalean subrace that I know of.”

Finding something to talk about (while privately thanking the hapless spider for it), Narati asked, “Tell me. How long have you known Rachna?”

Tulis chuckled, a rare occasion that felt special to her and to Narati. She never thought a Fa’ar would ask such a personal question.

“I think it’s 75 years since then,” reminisced Tulis. “We were young, or rather, I was. She had just started her responsibilities as a queen. We met by chance, when she was visiting the colony I once belonged to. She had a certain charm, something that queens need, but not as effective as she was. She told a beautiful story of her life, of what she represented. She—”

“Was very much talking out of her ass.”

Tulis gasped upon hearing Rachna’s voice, as did Narati. Both noticed that the guards were dismissed.

“Tulis, dear,” said the Mygalean queen. “That is not something you should share with a stranger, even if he’s your friend.”

“N-no. Forgive my insolence.”

“Tulis, Tulis. How many times should I tell you to relax? I don’t mind you reminisce, but that’s still a private subject. You’re lucky I caught it before you start talking about our culture. Otherwise, those guards might hear things you and I wouldn't want others to hear.”

Tulis looked confused and was at a loss of words when Rachna joined them.

“Given that it already piqued your curiosity, mousey, I’ll take it from here,” said Rachna. “Sure, I got the charisma and the looks, but I was an orphan queen. I never belonged to any colonies before I met Tulis and our other sisters, so I made up my past. Tulis here fell for it.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t know better,” said Tulis. “Like I said, you are the only black widow I ever know. Don’t you think I didn’t suspect your status?”

Rachna sighed. “But you joined my colony regardless. In any case, that’s my story. You don’t need to exaggerate for our hostage, Tulis.”

“Sorry.”

“Though to be fair, we all have our lies. Don’t you agree, Narati Vasra?”

Narati pointed at himself. “Me? I don’t exactly—”

“Who are you, really? Your unusual circumstances, I mean. Don’t you think it’s strange that you’re not dying of Aether exposure? Sure, you almost died, but then you recovered. Fa’ars don’t recover from Aether exposure, no matter how stubborn they are. That fact, reported by our dear friend, intrigued me. Almost as interesting as the other Fa’ar you killed, only he died.”

Narati had no idea what Tulis was talking about, although she had a point. He had been reminded time and time again that Aether was fatal to Fa’ar no matter the exposure as they could not produce mana to counteract it. The fact that he could confront Asran, despite his weakening body, and ultimately killing him, was unusual. He did not think much of it because he was worried of Karkas than himself.

With Rachna presenting the question, Narati found himself at a loss for words. He did not know what to tell her, for he was clueless himself. Yet, he still had something to say to the Mygalean queen.

“I don’t know if I am the one you think I am,” said Narati. “But what I am sure of is that I have a real life before all this. Everything’s real…because it was painful. That pain is what keeps me from doubting who I am. Sure, I am a cursed race. But I am lucky to have people I consider tanem keb. To me, that’s a gift I’m sure most Fa’ars would not have.”

Hearing his declaration made Tulis nod, glad that Narati was different in so many ways that it felt as if he represented his race. Rachna, too, was amused by the Fa’ar’s response. His raspy voice made it unique, too.

But that was not the answer Rachna was hoping for. Knowing that she couldn’t ask Narati for an answer he did not know himself, she decided not to pursue the matter further and said, “I suppose there are answers you must seek yourself before you can tell me what I need to know.”

Rachna turned to leave while beckoning Tulis to follow her, who sheepishly excused herself from Narati. The confused Fa’ar could only look at them as the cage door locked behind them, leaving Narati confined again. He wondered what she meant by what she said.

Meanwhile, as the two spider women climbed down the cage using the web, Rachna stayed silent until she confirmed that she was out of Narati’s earshot. When they did, the queen said, “Keep your eyes on him, Tulis.”

“What did you see in him?” asked Tulis.

“Potential,” said Rachna short. “He hasn’t realized it yet, but he has the potential to go down the wrong path. His survival from Aether can indicate something worse, one that he himself did not even know yet.”

“Is he going to end up like Asran? Is that why you asked me to keep an eye on Narati?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. At this point, I’m not sure.”

“Rachna…what aren’t you telling me? I have just survived a Fa’ar wielding Aether-based magic. I deserved the right to know what we’re up against.”

Rachna did not immediately respond, making Tulis even more convinced that she was hiding a vital information to explain her order to take Narati as a hostage. While Tulis knew it was to essentially force his friends to help the Mygaleans, that questioning was not something related to the Mygaleans.

Before Tulis could ask her oldest friend and queen, Rachna said, “Some facts are better forgotten or kept to yourself, or you would find yourself forced to make a choice.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If I tell you what you want to know, at this point of your relationship with him…you will end up killing him. We both know how pragmatic you can be. Even if you think you understand who he is, would you still consider him a friend?”

“Does that mean Narati is….”

Rachna kept silent, preferring not to ruin Tulis’s budding friendship with someone who was not a Mygalean. Her general was not going to raise her hands to kill someone without a good reason, and right now, keeping her in the dark would be the best choice.

Fa’ars were always meant to be a weapon, regardless of generations. She wouldn’t want Narati or anyone else to find out. Otherwise, she would be aiding in a genocide.

And that’s going to burden her for the rest of her life. She was already a queen. She did not need to add more burdens to herself and her people.