The Spider's Ballet

Chapter 005: Onto the Spider's Web

It was hours later when Desdin awoke on a couch of a cozy little apartment. He unburied himself from several blankets to unveil a room littered with books, odd trinkets and little dolls. His hair was a disheveled mess, and it appeared as if his pants were almost undone. Standing up, he looked into the next room to find Ingrid fully clothed and snoring lightly on top of her bed. He muttered to himself, "at least I didn't break that rule.

He walked over to the window overlooking the town from three stories up. The streets were quiet and artificially bathed in pale blue chrism light set atop lampposts. Not even the cars that were running around Leoris during the day were operational. He gathered his things and quietly stepped out into the cool air of the night, looking around before walking towards the port, cutting through alleys where he could to take the shortest route.

As he went down a long alley, the chrism lamps flickered on and off. Goosebumps formed across his skin, and an icy chill ran through him as he heard skittering and scraping on the buildings and street behind him. The sound of sharp edges brushing violently against stone and concrete became louder and louder. He stopped and looked back, staring for some time at the dark.

Two yellow orbs snapped into view. He focused his eyes, seeing splintered black and red crosses in their center. As they came forward, he could tell they were glowing behind a thin black veil. A woman in a black dress similar to those from the funeral the previous day stepped forward. He turned in her direction and said, "Hey, are you really there?"

A raspy yet demure voice answered, "Does the ant see visions of gods?"

Desdin shrugged. "Yea, but the things I see rarely talk back, so we are both here. You are far from home, aren't you?"

The woman had stopped moving forward with eyes unblinking and said, "This one in front of you was busy weaving a beautifully symmetrical web. Closely threading all the ones here to her design. When the ant came flying into the web and pulling all of her beautiful silk loose. Does the ant always charge in crashing headlong?"

Desdin rubbed his chin and said, "I hear that a lot. But hey, would you mind packing up and heading back up north?"

She lurched side to side slowly while taking his measure with her eyes, still concealing much of herself in the dark. "This one followed the thread that led the ant here. Along with those other ants that followed him. Somehow, a fateful thread has bound us together. Dancing in sync on the great web of a much bigger design. The ants are not mere ants. Antlions." Her body seemed to unburden itself of the dark and grow larger. Her posture bent over poised to take action. "This spider will be first to find the Roots of Dragsil. We seek to drink the vitality of the same knowledge. Does the antlion have anything to offer for this one to spare his life?"

Desdin raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure we are understanding each other at all here. Language barrier maybe? You don't answer questions with more questions and then say the one thing that is going to make me want to drag some answers out of you. Any chance we can talk this out?"

She hissed in retort. "The barrier is no more. This one will have back that which was stolen. This one will nurture the seeds of life. This one is deigned to only answer to a queen not you. The antlion will dance away!" Like a spear of bone, a sharp and sinewy appendage lashed out from the veil. From the moment she set her eyes on him Desdin had a hand on the scabbard of his short sword and rushed to pull it from his belt. He used the sheath as a shield against the strike while also drawing his blade with his other hand. He briefly but firmly gripped the hilt before slinging the sword full force at the face behind the veil.

He was running full tilt behind the tossed weapon, which was caught by another sinewy appendage, forming a claw. Yet another bone like spear came at him, which he parried down. It grazed his calf sharply, drawing blood. He yanked the sword from the claw and cleaved an appendage apart that flopped to the ground before dissolving into a black fluid. He didn't waste a moment to cut at her neck, which only tore away her veil. The woman had leapt a great distance backwards. Beneath the veil was a pale face with soft features and wiry black hair. The bubbling fluid from the cut off appendage smoked and dissipated into the air, leaving behind a sickening foul odor of decay.