The little fluffy black kit was too young to remember her time in the mage camp, but her adoptive parents had told her the story when she was old enough to question why she didn’t look like either of them, the way all the other sira looked like their parents. They’d told her that the mages were very bad people who had stolen her from her true mother and changed the way she looked, though they themselves didn’t know why. Or maybe they just didn’t want to tell her. That was what she always suspected, the way the other members of the tribe looked at her.
At first unsure why they looked at her that way, since they had creatures among them that looked just as different from themselves as she did, she didn’t realize that it pained them to look at her. Whether or not she had actually been born a sira, like them, wasn’t the real issue, though that was painful for them to think about, make no mistake. It wasn’t until much later that she found that out about the other tribe members that had been taken by mages and never seen again.
By the time she could walk, Arachnae had already been teased about her appearance. Even though other youngsters were shorter than she, they were stronger and heavier, and therefore had the advantage in a play-tussle. Ara had always been a slight youth, almost anorexic when she was a small kitten. Her parents told her it was because of what the mages had done to her. Something about stretching anatomy or some sort of magical half-transformation. She supposed that it sounded right, from what she’d picked up herself about anatomy and physics. But that didn’t change anything; she was still the favorite playtoy of the other kittens. She still managed to add a few scrapes and bruises every time she came home from playing with them. For a while, she was even glad that her fur covered most of her hurts up, since she didn’t want her parents worrying about her or getting mad at her or the other youngsters. But after a while, she wished they would notice. She was tired of being all but neglected by the adults and all but beaten by their kits.
Her parents had instilled within her, at a very young age, the belief in their dual deities. One representing light and life, the other darkness and destruction. They called them Niaryalii and S’riorssa. They’d told her that to keep the balance and make sure neither of the two were angered towards her, she must learn to honor both. Ara had tried very hard to do that now since, even from the time she was very small, she had been hearing whispers of rumors all around the tribe that her parents had not honored one or the other of the two, and that’s why they, and she, had been captured. She didn’t know what to believe, but just in case, she was going to do her best to keep them both satisfied.
At first there was some doubt in her own mind as to whether or not she was actually born a sira, since other than the fur and paws, she looked absolutely nothing like her playmates. One day while she was playing, she actually sat back and took note of the differences between them. Other than the obvious, her lacking wings and having an extra pair of arms, sira kittens were a soft, pale orange color, and she was covered in thick black fur. And as the other kits aged, their fur began showing the telltale signs of the adult markings that would continue to darken as they aged. However, as she too grew older, she noticed that faint red-brown stripes began appearing in her coat around the same time other kittens her age began noticing their own pale markings appear. So she really had begun her life looking like one of them. She sighed, oh well.
As the years wore on and she grew into a teenager and then young adult, her situation had not changed much. She was still both ignored and picked on, and there seemed to be no sign of it letting up any time soon. Not only that, but around that time the other kits her age had begun to pair off. She attended one or two of the bonding ceremonies before it became too painful and she couldn’t anymore. Not because she held grudges for the sira who had picked on her as a kitten, but because she knew there was no such bond awaiting her. It was around that time that she began to discard her parents’ teachings in hopes of gaining favor with one or the other deity, rather than just keeping them both from interfering too directly, as was the generally desired result.
Ara thought first who was most likely the power behind her curse, and came up with answers in more of a jumbled mess than she was. Both or either could have let her and her family fall into the mages hands. So that was no good. She turned her attention then to who might best be able to help her out of her current situation. Well, she certainly didn’t want to be destroyed, and she didn’t want the tribe she grew up in harmed either, so perhaps S’riorssa wasn’t the best choice, even if he might have held some consideration for her situation.
No, if she wanted to change her life without causing harm, she needed to appeal to Niaryalii, the life deity. She might even take pity on her appearance and do something about it. She heard somewhere that they could do that if they really wanted to.
Arachnae began small, so as not to attract too much attention too quickly, planting a small flower garden behind her parents’ house. Of course, she added one or two of the ‘dark’ plants that S’riorssa seemed to favor, if only to avoid suspicion. She wouldn’t like to see the looks on her foster parents’ faces if they found out what she was planning. Or the looks on the Elders’ faces either, for that matter.
After a while, she began moving off into the surrounding forests on her own to continue appealing to the deity of light and life. This was no new practice, since it had been her habit for years to put as much distance between herself and the other sira as possible. They didn’t seem to mind, and it gave her some time to herself, away from the averted gazes of the elder sira and jibes of the younger kits. While she was out, she always found something to keep herself occupied.
This time, she found her way to a small, quiet clearing and leaned up against a tree, her fur, now traced through with vibrant red patterns that resembled nothing if not a spider’s intricate webbing, protecting her from it’s rough bark.
Arachnae closed her eyes and sighed softly, relaxing. She knew nothing here would hurt her, it was surrounded by tokens she’d dedicated to the deity of life, and a calm serenity had seeped into everything. The trees, the grass, the stones, even the winds seemed to pulse with that pervasive tranquility. It was only when she opened her eyes again that Ara realized that something was different. She rose to her feet and stepped lightly into the very center of the clearing, feeling the soft grass brush up against her legs and compress beneath her paws, releasing a light fragrance.
“Hello?” she called softly, looking around her circle for any disturbances. It seemed brighter just here for some reason. Probably just because it was furthest from the shade of the trees, she thought. A purely joyous laugh answered her query, and she looked around for its source. Nothing. Then she heard the crunching of leaves underfoot, followed by a shape that was near her own size. Her first impression was that perhaps she was being visited by one of the elusive alaikeisa that were supposed to live in the region.
Then again, it was certainly not horse-like, she decided, and bigger than what she thought an akailei was supposed to be anyway. And it had the wrong proportions for a runner, which was her next somewhat startled guess. A flash of silvery light caught her eye, reflecting off a thin, spiraling horn protruding from its forehead.
Ara blinked. She’d never seen anything like it before. It looked draconic, but it was much, much smaller than the suva, and they didn’t have that horn. She’d know in a moment, anyway; it was breaking from the cover of the surrounding trees, out into the sunlight. It wouldn’t be able to enter the clearing if it meant her harm, she knew, and if it didn’t mean her harm, it wouldn’t even notice the random stones and wildflowers that had been placed in the protective ring.
As it approached, the creature paused and bent to investigate a small, inconsequential looking white flower growing at the root of a huge tree. That was one of the markers Arachnae had placed. It and the tree held the westernmost edge of the barrier, one of the four strongest points, and she knew that the creature would only have noticed it if it perceived the barrier. Now she also knew it was a hunter, and she its prey. Wouldn’t it be surprised to discover that it couldn’t... cross... into...
Arachnae stared in shock as the thing looked up at her, smiled, and stepped across the barrier, out into the broad daylight.
