Zene Oneshots

The Weaver (Pt 1)

Everyone knows the story of Arachnophobia and spiders, and how it all started with an ancient Greek woman named Arachne.

Well, I'll tell you something. The truth is, the story of Arachne is just a myth, a folktale. But that story is based off the real one.

The story of when Zane was compared to a God.

~~~~

O'khasis was the center of trade and news, filled with rich and wealthy nobles and residents, of all different races. While there was a ban on certain extensions of religious beliefs, there was at least racial equality and an allowing of homosexual marriage.

The lord of the city was named Garte, who was married to a fine young woman named Zianna. They had two sons, with one adoptive son-- Garroth, Zane, and Vylad.

Zane took after his mother in everything except his social interactions and gender. Other than those two things, he was nearly an exact reflection of her. His favorite talent of hers was weaving. He had always been engrossed by the way the colors of different fabrics were brought together to depict such an astonishing image. Almost as soon as he became of a reasonable age in his parents eyes, he had been given his own loom to have in his sleeping chamber.

Everyone in the city had become awed when they saw the magnificent tapestries he had woven, and soon everyone across the region had, too. Some of them even spread rumors that he had gotten his talented weaving skills as a blessing from the God Gene himself, which was a very rare event.

"Zane, how do you weave such masterpieces?" His mother asked in awe, staring at a tapestry of a cornucopia at a feast.

"It must be a blessing from Gene." Zane said, trying his best to hide his discomfort.

Now, a lot of people claimed they got things from Gene. A random woman is pregnant and no one can find the father? She claims it to be Gene. Some of the best warriors did that too, only they claimed to be sons of Gene.

Gene, clearly, did not like this.

Looking down from his throne on Mount Olympus, Gene nearly brought down a section of the cedar and ivory panelled ceiling. Fortunately, he didn't, because that would've been very bad for his servants. Shooting up from his marble throne, dotted with amethysts and inlaid with golden veins, he glared down at the mortal prince who was being adored by the people of O'khasis.

"I hate it when mortals say that I blessed them." Gene groaned, rolling his fiery teal eyes. "It really makes me want to use their own bones for one of my works."

That was when he noticed just how uncomfortable Zane looked from all the attention. It wasn't hard to pinpoint what Zane felt. The people of O'khasis only liked him because he brought so much more wealth inside their walls.

Suddenly, an idea clicked in Gene's mind. It was a horrible idea in what it would do, but an amazing one for his own benefits. If he could make Zane less appealing, then maybe the people would stop buying and speaking of his weavings and crafts.

And so he set to work.

~~~~

Zane, like all mortal victims, was entirely unaware of the God's intentions and evil scheme.

He had woven and crafted many things for people by now. Clothing, armor, jewelry, pottery, paintings, sculptures, you name it. But no matter how much his hands cramped or ached, his father insisted that he continue to produce such goods. He had just finished one tapestry, one much different than his others, and had been enthusiastic to share it with his father.

Things didn't go his way.

Instead, his father immediately glared at him like he was an alien or Minotaur. He jabbed one finger at the tapestry out of disgust, as if it were a deadly virus that was about to be released.

"What do you call this?" His father demanded, his rage clear in his voice and expression.

"A tapestry." Zane replied simply. It was always best to tell things to his father flat out, and not tell him anything he didn't need to know.

"I can see that it's a tapestry." His father spat with a frown, before pointing to the creature depicted on it. "I meant that."

"Oh, I call that a spider." He informed, feeling pride for making something of his own.

Unfortunately, his father showed nothing but an unfavorable disgust, as if Zane had just announced that he wanted to marry a Satyr and have intercourse with a snake.

"Burn it." He ordered one of his servants, balling up the tapestry and throwing it at them.

"W... What?" Zane asked out of shock, his eye widening as the servant ran off.

"Now get back to work, Zane." Garte ordered him, shoving him away. "And make sure these tapestries are ones that people would want, and not some imaginary creatures."

Zane nodded slightly, still dazed by his father's reaction. He didn't understand why the tapestry had to be burnt, even if no one would want it. He had put a lot of effort into the colors and design of the spider, and, of course, the weaving process. He headed back to his workshop in a hurry, trying his best not to break down in front of the eyes of others or face the astonishment in their faces.

But when he closed the door to his workshop, he couldn't help but shed a few tears.

~~~~

Gene snickered as the first step of his scheme came to an end.

Things were going along smoothly, just like they always did. He had possessed Garte's mind for just a few seconds, and he could easily alter the way he felt about the tapestries and crafts. The minds of mortals were always fun to toy around with. He knew he would receive another lecture and disciplinary speech from Lady Irene, but he didn't really care. Sooner or later she would have to realize that Gods never stopped torturing mortals, no matter how much she spoke against it.

He was thinking his next step out. Surely Zane would be hesitant when making tapestries again, so he would go for something else... maybe pottery. Gene would just keep Zane on a track of making things with those spider creatures, or whatever Zane had called them, and then bless his mother with even better skills. Then they would have no need for Zane, and he would give up all hope. There were some minor things he would include, like forcing Zane to neglect his everyday needs, and haunt his dreams and nightmares to the core.

And so, that's exactly what he did.

~~~~

Gene stared in horror at what he created.

Zane was on the verge of death, and seemed accepting of it. It had gotten to the point where he burned his own tapestries after they were woven, smashed his own pottery crafts once they were finished, and had started ripping apart his own blankets and clothes. He hardly ever showered, and always had his curtains closed. His eye was puffy and red, twitching from his lack of sleep. He ate very little, and had stopped eating entirely when his mother had been fainting from lack of nutrients. Then... he had tumbled over the edge...

The doors to Zane's workshop flung open, and standing there was Garroth, Zane's older brother. His eyes widened and he fell to his knees in a kneeling position, bowing his head and keeping his eyes fixed on the floor.

Standing before him was Gene himself, holding the lifeless body of Zane. He looked down at the pale, ruined face with a pained sorrow. He had wished he had never done such cruel things, even for fun. He wasn't sure why he felt such guilt for what he done, but that very well could have been Shad the Destroyer pulling on a few strings. He slowly looked to Garroth, who had not moved from his frozen place.

"Remember." Was all Gene said, before vanishing in a swirl of golden glitter.