The Loremaster sat back and took a long pull from his wineskin. “Now, Tyrrae N’Tyl, Second of House D’Ner in the line of Tartulos, can you tell me the name of your Queen?”
Tyrrae shook her head. “No, I cannot.” She bared her arms for all to see the darkness of her skin compared to their paleness. “It is true about being dark skinned however.”
She gave them time to marvel at her skin. “My eyes are protected right now, because it is so very bright here. I invite you to call me Tyrrae. It’s easier to say than the entire mouthful.”
She turned her attention to the Loremaster. “If you would like, I would tell the tale from our perspective, of what I have learned of the founding of our city.”
The Loremaster nodded. “That was what I was hoping you would tell us, among other things.”
Tyrrae closed her eyes and recited the text she had been taught in her school days as she was expected to recite it.
Once, all was darkness, until the darkness took the shape of a spider, and her name was Liloth.
In the distance, Liloth could hear a voice crying out for help, and curiousity drove her to follow the voice. A young woman was crying for her lack of children in a grove long abandoned to the darkness. Liloth approached the woman and offered her aid, for she was prolific in her children and might welcome the challenge offered. The woman accepted blindly without making terms, for nothing comes for free.
The woman was already a Queen of her own people, but Liloth made her a Queen to Liloth’s children. Liloth bit the woman, and her eggs swam through the blood to her womb to help it quicken with life. The next time she lay with her husband, she conceived of a child and Liloth’s children shared her womb with her son.
Liloth had let the woman return to her people after their bargain was struck. As Liloth was made of darkness, in darkness she must remain.
But the Queen was of the light and in the light among her people she did feel her labor pains begin. Liloth’s children departed first, marking those around the Queen with the favored sign of Liloth or killing them outright from hunger. Those bearing the favor of Liloth could no longer bear the light, and fled with the queen back into the darkness, where Liloth waited.
She helped the Queen finish her birthing labor pains and delivered her son. She bit the umbilical cord and fed upon the afterbirth. When the Queen recovered, she wished to know what happened to her lord husband, and one of the newborn children confessed to killing him in its hunger.
Liloth spoke, “You will have no lord or master here, my queen. You will rule alone. Should you need the support of a king, you may perhaps wed with your son when he comes of age. Your people are here with you in the darkness, and our children shall protect them and aid them. You will carve a new existence with our people, and I will no longer be completely alone.”
And so it was. The spider children grew with special abilities- some were better at protection, some for hunting, some for spinning, and some for spying. The people grew and learned new skills and crafts, and learned to see in the darkness. And the Queen still thrives with her son and king, and her many children and the people have intermarried and grown.
It's just this blog, okay? Some of it is story. Some of it is animals. Some of it is knitting. It's a blog.
For story #1, I do recommend starting from the beginning of this blog if you haven't read this before. Please start at the beginning.
I did mean it to be for http://www.nanowrimo.org - but I never got quite got it done under the wire.
Jeannie is the author/main character.
Frank is her husband. Poor man.
Tony is musician/singer.
Angie is a teenager, who was Jeannie's best friend. Now currently dead.
Honestly, there is no connection between Jeannie and me and Frank and my husband.
Frank and Ether. This will be much weirder than Frank and Jeannie. I like the name Frank. No one expects a Frank to lie.
A desert story. Anna is the main character. Currently there is only her little brother and an old servant, and a mysterious redhead.
The necro story. A young necromancer heads off to the Hated Ones to find her trousseau.
Reserving this for one-offs, poems, etc.
|Marriage is love.|