The Father of Withering

Chapter Sixteen: Lucius

When Relma awoke, her arms and legs were bound together by something sticky. She felt herself being bumped gradually. Opening her eyes, she saw the back of a spider scuttling, and she was on it. Around her were many other spiders and those specters she had seen before. Glancing up, she realized she was being carried in a bridal style by Rioletta. Her entire body was covered in webs.

"So you awaken, darling," said Rioletta. "I was hoping you'd remain asleep for the rest."

"Why does Lucius want my company?" asked Relma.

"You don't seem very fearful for one in your position," said Rioletta.

"I don't really get concerned about things," said Relma. "I mean, my body is terrified. You're something it has never seen before, and all these monsters have it wanting to run. But I'm not my body. My body is just how my soul interacts with the world, like a suit of armor.

"It affects me, but it isn't me.

"And I'm much more detached from it than most people."

"How very disappointing," said Rioletta. "Some of the best fates I've we have come from the connection to the world. Take that away, and there is nothing but pathetic exceptions to how things are.

"It is in the material plane that fate has meaning. Where changes can occur."

"I know that much," said Relma. "Why do you think I wear this skin?" What was she talking about? What did she mean by skin?

"To cheat," said Rioletta.

"Cheat?" asked Relma. "Is that what you call it?"

"Well, yes," said Rioletta. "You've taken on the flesh of a human with all the advantages. But you've kept your original spirit as is.

"Your fate is preordained. Set in stone.

"Only the details may change. I can make nothing of you because there is nothing to work with."

"As opposed to William?" asked Relma.

"Well, of course," said Rioletta. "He's worth investing in. Such pride, such compassion, such flaws, I could weave such a wonderful tragedy from him. If only Elranor would stop interfering.

"I'd just love to bind his soul in my webs and have my way with it. His blood is positively delicious."

"You are the goddess of fate, aren't you?" asked Relma.

"But of course," said Rioletta. "My webs allow me to manipulate the fortunes of all those in the world. It is my great passion."

"But you are limited in what you can achieve?" guessed Relma.

"Of course I am," said Rioletta. "I may pull the strands of fate, but those connected to those strands may also pull. All the gods may pull the webs as well."

"Then what is the difference between you and everyone else?" asked Relma.

"Dearie, I am the Weaver," Said Rioletta. "I create the webs of fate from the river of souls. I keep the fabric of destiny from fraying, a duty no other god may do. And this gives me advantages.

"All gods can perceive destiny. But I control where it goes.

"Some threads are easier to alter than others, of course. Certain strands cannot be changed without damaging the tapestry."

"And you can't change my destiny?" asked Relma.

Rioletta looked moderately embarrassed at the question. "Well, no. You see, your fate was written by the Goddess Karus in ages past. In those days, the God of Order, Valranor, fought a losing war. He was doing battle with Baltoth for power over Calisha. But there came the point when all was lost and his defeat certain.