The girl's eyes were red, the proof that she was the only one with Mori blood to have escaped the destruction of the land she was born into. Proof of the spideresque blood that coursed through her veins and the reason for her black widow hourglass symbol. The blood dripped from an open wound. Old scars criss crossed her arms and legs as badges of honor, her proof that she had fought and survived. She was motionless, watching the sunset. Tomorrow would be another battle, another test for the strength of her heart.
Her hair was a dark blue, unnatural, but then who could call the feral child natural? Not born under a clear sky, the girl had been born under the third full moon of a four full moon cycle. In her veins was the history of many wars, different cultures, all somehow blended and meshed into a rather short and scrawny creature. She was like the water, many different parts all combined and flowing naturally, mixing and never the same pattern twice.
A white rose hung limply from her hand. She'd spent days scouring the land to procure the precious gift, the snow having been a hindrance but not enough for the flower to elude her. Pure, innocent love was what she had found, and a pure, innocent representation was her response, the dove flying overhead seemingly confirming that. Her albino skin was well suited to this wintery wasteland known as the North, her Northerner heritage coming in handy. Nightfall came early in this unforgiving land, and the girl could not help but admire the stars above, her beacons in the sky to guide her to where he would be in hiding, awaiting her arrival, the irony of two star crossed lovers, she thought silently.
The sky was midnight black, save for the stars which would guide her to him. His dark eyes sought her out in the snow, seeking the familiar hair and glowing eyes. The cawing of his crow heralded her approach, and his smile was visible beneath his beard. The boy had escaped the dark castle where he was in training to become a knight. She was his world, and he would sooner death take him than their love be put asunder, the war between their factions be darned. Finally, he could see a shadow, hear the crunch of boots on snow. He left his hiding place, the world going dark as a sword pierced his heart and the words "Death to traitors" fell on dying ears.
"No." Was all the girl could whisper, cradling the boy's body in her arms. His tabard was soaked with his blood, and his nearly lifeless eyes stared up at her, his hand reached for hers. She screamed, holding him tightly, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. He was quickly fading, and neither of them could find words. She laid her forehead against his, breathing in sync with him until his last shudder. He died in her arms, a reverse of her own nightmares, Enraged, she closed his eyes and whispered to him in their language before rising and unsheathing her sword. Blood would be spilled, she vowed to him. They will regret this, my love...she thought as her owl neared. The large Eurasian Eagle owl's blood red eyes gleamed in the night as she sent him back to gather help. Her love would be buried among her people, regardless of their hatred of his people and his death would not go unpunished.
~
Clear, colorblind eyes stared at the knight as he told the story. Clarren remained silent, maintaining their mute facade as the knight scratched his chin thoughtfully and added "She was never the same after that. the Spider wasn't. She became crueler...more feral. Rumor has it she's trying to reconnect with her brother, the necromancer, tryin' to forge a bond between us and the undead to slaughter the boy's people. I don't buy it though, isn't any way she's become that crazy. Just mind yourself around her boy, she'll kill you faster than the other squires if you gi'er the chance to."
With that, the knight strode away, leaving Clarren alone with her thoughts. So, Clarren thought, that's what happened to Spider...A door opened, and Spider appeared in front of Clarren. Spider twitched her head to the right slightly before straightening up and closing the distance between the two of them. Clarren stood still while Spider re-evaluated the young squire.
"You'd make an excellent....information gatherer." Spider grinned evilly. "Silent and stoic. Good traits for a torturer. You'll do that at nights, don't tell the other squires." Spider nodded and walked away, well aware Clarren couldn't argue.
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