Glimr of Night had followed along behind the Cluster Slayer, who he liked, and the other one, who he didnt care about. He had been quite uncertain about the Cluster Slayer at first. He had only followed them into the ruins out of a sense of obligation that ran so deep in his kind that it might as well have been a command from the heavens. He had feared that once they were in the city, the Cluster No, thought Glimr of Night, he is called Sen. He had feared that Sen would fall back on his old ways and simply kill him. However, Sen had seed genuinely concerned that everyone was alright. More importantly, the human cultivator had freely shared food from the impossibly vast reaches of his storage treasure.
Not rely food, though, but entire spirit beasts with their cores intact. It also seed that Sen didnt bother fighting weak spirit beasts. The human might not have realized it, but he had single-handedly pushed Glimr of Nights advancent forward years ahead of schedule, possibly even a decade or two. Whatever the others in the cluster might think of him, Glimr of Night was inclined to take his story about what happened with that other cluster at face value. After all, the human could have simply ignored him, let him go hungry, or even killed him. He had done none of those things. Of course, that was when they had all been traveling together. The situation had changed without warning. One mont, the spider had been trailing along behind them, thinking about how nice it was that the fox had stopped talking all the ti. The next mont, he had been in this place. Whatever this place was.
He was on a web. He knew that much, even if the web strands were impossibly wide. No spider could fail to recognize web qi when they saw it. Of course, that had left him with the persistent concern that so equally vast spider matriarch would co along and crush the life from him. He had stood frozen in place by that fear for longer than he would care to admit to anyone. Eventually, boredom had supplanted the fear. If death was to co, it seed it would co slowly or, barring that, it would co elsewhere. So, Glimr of Night had set forth to find either information or his death, as it seed no other good options existed.
The great web on which he traveled seed to be spread out across the empty space between the far-flung worlds. He knew of those worlds because his kind was sensitive to the web of life. They had long felt the tremulations in that web that ca from much too far away to originate on their own world. Glimr of Night was still too young and inexperienced to feel those quivering touches on the web himself, but his matriarch spoke of them. He had sensed a curiosity in her about what might be on those worlds, and it had sparked his own curiosity. Did his kind have distant cousins on those worlds? If they t, would they et in war, or be greeted as long-lost family? He didnt have a preference. He could learn from either situation.
He did notice that ti moved strangely in this new place. It had been like that in the ruins as well if less pronounced. He would walk for years at a ti but not feel that passage as he should. He spent a bit of those early years of travel simply thinking about what he had done in life. The battles he fought. The friends hed made, lost, and even been betrayed by. He didnt hold hate in his heart for those betrayers. The world was not made for the weak and easily offended. Besides, it was easy to be magnanimous. He had slain those betrayers to the very last. No, looking back, he found he had no regrets. A part of him thought that coming to that realization would bring this journey to an end. Hed believed it so firmly that hed even stopped moving and looked around, waiting for the transition back to the world he knew. It did not co.
Sighing a little, he continued this long walk. From ti to ti, the strand he walked on would intersect with other strands. Those strands would stretch out to lengths that defied his comprehension. He considered exploring one of those other strands, but his intuition warned him not to do that. Those strands were paths, but they were not his path. If he went down one of those, it could have either good or bad consequences. He did hesitate a little each ti he ca across one of those intersecting strands. If only he knew more about what lay down each, he might make a better decision. The heavens, it seed, were not feeling generous toward him, because no burst of understanding or inspiration struck. With no information to work from, he decided to stay on the strand that had been selected for him.
As boredom once more threatened to overtake him, he turned his mind to the glory of webs. And why not, as he stood upon what might well be the greatest of all webs. They could be delicate, subli things that captured droplets of dew that scattered light in the most pleasing of ways. They could also be terrible things with slashing spikes of hardened silk woven in to wound and punish. Yet, beautiful or fell, they demanded the deepest concentration. They were intricate and easy to mar with inattention or haste. When done correctly, though, they could rise to a level of art that even the non-spiders could appreciate. They could even spark enlightennt in the right kinds of minds. Glimr of Night had so small talent in crafting webs, even able to infuse his webs with certain affinities that could enhance their functions. He aspired to one day make a web that would spark enlightennt, but that would be centuries away if it happened at all. He would need to survive long enough to nurture his small gifts.
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As he considered the art of web weaving, and the nature of infusing those webs, ti flowed around him like a great river. He delved deep into the traditional web patterns. He searched for understanding. He searched for insight. He considered deeply why those patterns were the patterns taught to every spider, and why even the spiders who lacked self-awareness seed to know those patterns. He theorized that it was a function of the web of life. The patterns must echo along that web so that even the lowest of his kin could feel them, even if they didnt understand them. When he felt that he had gleaned all that he could from contemplating the patterns known to all, he started to consider the pattern that he was developing.
It was still an ugly thing, half-ford, but he could feel himself reaching for a deeper truth every ti he worked on it. With nothing but ti and apparently freed from all needs, he let himself sink wholly into that nascent pattern. He built a thousand webs in his mind, then ten thousand webs, and then a hundred thousand webs, striving to find the internal geotry that would strike the spark of enlightennt and let him access not simply a truth, but the truth hidden at the core of that pattern. So deep was his concentration that he did not feel it at first when he was lifted from that enormous strand, nor see the great black eyes that peered down on him with distant, maternal amusent.
When he returned to himself, he thought his life would flee from his unworthy body. He stood upon the leg of the most perfect spider he had ever beheld. There was not a blemish upon her carapace, nor a hint of weakness in her legs. Her eyes were the color of the deepest void. Glimr of Night flattened himself against the leg he stood on, wishing only that he could lower himself even farther. He didnt stand before a matriarch for no such word would do her justice. This being transcended him, transcended all the matriarchs of his world and possibly any world. It was unworthy that she should be subjected to the sight of his weakness and imperfection. He feared she would strike him down for intruding on her.
Be at peace, she said.
The voice was light and sweet, even as it reverberated throughout the cosmos. He was both comforted and struck with fearful awe.
You are not here by accident, she continued. You had many chances to turn aside from this fate. You could have ignored the debt to the human cultivator. You could have chosen any of the other strands to walk. However, you persevered and found your way to . I am impressed, my son.
It took longer than it should have for his quaking mind to rember that he could talk and that the protracted silence around him suggested that should talk.
I am humbled by your regard, Ancient Weaver.
Ancient? Do I look so old?
Before the blade of pure terror could sink itself into his mind, the great spider let out peals of laughter. The sound of that laughter washed away his fears and he suddenly found himself thinking of ho.
Tell , my son, who is so very, very far from ho, what boon would you ask of ?
Glimr of Night froze. A boon? His mind tried to go in a thousand directions at once. He thought of resources that would let him advance. He thought of secret knowledge. He thought of a land cut off from the vicious cycle of violence his brethren experienced all the ti. Try as he might, though, he couldnt bring himself to ask for any of these things. It was both too much and not enough.
It is enough that I have seen you, said Glimr of Night. To ask for more would be greed.
There was more of that laughter that left him feeling warm and safe.
Oh, I do believe you have been spending far too much ti with that cultivator friend of yours. Still, it isnt the worst thing for one so young to be charming, said the great spider. Well, if you will not choose, then I suppose I must choose sothing for you. Before that, though, tell about your cluster. Tell about my children on your world.
He spoke haltingly at first, still half-stunned by the presence of the great spider. Speaking about his ho soon loosened his words, though. He told the great spider about his matriarch and the many caverns they had claid as their own. He told her about the wilds and their conflicts with the other spirit beasts in the area. He spoke about the human cultivators and the constant threat they posed in their hunger for cores. He didnt know how much ti passed as he spoke, nor did he care as he sat beneath the attentive and interested gaze of the greatest of all matriarchs. When his words ran dry, she seed to sense it.
Thank you for speaking with , she said. I so rarely get visitors here. I can see much through the web, but its not the sa as listening to soone talk. Now, I do believe that I know what boons I will grant you.
Glimr of Night was so overwheld with pleasure at having rendered even that tiny service to this divine presence that it took a mont for the word to sink in. Boons? Plural?
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