dreamweaver

Y/N emerged from the garden with a basket full of ready-to-eat fruits rather than the usual raw ingredients. Tiso wasn't entirely sure if that was a healthy diet for a spider, but what did he know? Y/N had been feeding itself longer than he had been observing it, and clearly it hadn't died yet. It had a little pep in its step from the sugar boost it had gotten in the garden and was humming its familiar comforting melody. Tiso was trying to float more. He often got disoriented, ending up upside down or partially in the floor or stuck spinning in place. The more he thought about it, the harder it was. It seemed he couldn't just fly around like the ghosts in the stories Nurse Mira once read to him. If he didn't have a goal, he was stuck. His goal was Y/N, more often than not. When it stood still to admire statues along the crossroad, he drifted in circles around it as he tried to establish a stable flight pattern. As it hopped from platform to platform, he endeavored to stay above the ledges rather than following its jump arc. He was not tethered to the ground. He was not. He was not!! If he was going to be dead, he might as well make the most of it. He resisted the urge to try and beat Y/N to its destination by phasing through walls, though. The fear of getting lost forever in a void of rock or an unfamiliar cavern was too great. Eventually Y/N got to the mouth of the cave Tiso had drawn a map to. It walked into the darkness of the tunnel entrance, paid a small toll, and trekked into the mountain. The feet of massive beasts thundered below. The mountain’s mines were in disrepair; some areas were dark, some areas had no floor, and all the caverns were infested with crystal creatures and lightridden miners. Despite the years of neglect the conveyors and crushers were still running, a testament to the power contained in the bright pink crystals used to fuel the machinery. Whenever Tiso touched the crystals they resonated softly, glowing where his chitin brushed the smooth surface. Every time he did, Y/N stopped to listen. It made the trek to the top a lot longer than it needed to be. Tiso didn't mind, though. He wished he were as musically inclined as Y/N was. Maybe he would've been able to tap out the melody it liked to hum, just to show it that he had been listening.

Y/N stopped in an observation balcony near the top of the mountain, standing close to the window overlooking the town far below. Tiso landed on the ground next to Y/N, looking out across the landscape himself. The town lights were distant and small, almost like a cluster of stars on the ground. It was the only point of light in the vast wastes. The sky was a dusty gray, dark and foreboding like the high ceiling of an unlit cave. It didn't look like it was going to rain, though. The deck was high enough up to see the whirlwind of ash surrounding the kingdom. Tiso remembered braving that storm alone, using his friend’s carapace to protect himself from the buffeting winds. He hadn't turned his shell into a shield yet. The steel-shelled bug’s weight was almost too much for Tiso to bear, but it kept him from being blown away by the wind. His friend was too big for him to lift fully off the ground. Tiso was hunched over, his friend’s limp arms slung over his shoulders and his legs dragging on the ground. The tears that had dampened his face had been whipped away by the winds, leaving nothing but steeled force of will.

We’re gonna make it. We’re going to see it together. Even if you’re gone… I promised. I promised.

The winds died down. The sand settled. Tiso continued dragging them both forward. His friend’s body left a trail in the sand. Tiso finally collapsed under the weight. His chestplate kept his friend’s steel body from crushing him entirely as he lay on the ground. His breath came fast and heavy. His limbs shook even though they no longer held themselves up. He choked back the urge to cry again.

A short break. That’s all this is. Then we’ll climb up there together. We’ll get the glory we wanted. The respect we deserve. Together. I promised.

He looked up. A towering cliff stretched to the heavens above, made of rock and fossilized shell and broken dreams. It was the final test. Scale this cliff of corpses and failures, then all your dreams would come true. That's what his friend promised. Tiso promised he’d get them both there. He promised.

“So you’d seek sacred Hallownest?” Tiso coughed weakly. He pushed himself to his feet, once more shouldering the burden of his fallen ally. His only ally. He tried to find the voice. It was a little way up the cliff. It belonged to a long-horned, red-cloaked bug. A needle threaded with long silk was on her back. “Turn back. This place is a corpse. It will grant you nothing but more death. As will I, to those who seek to desecrate it.” Tiso ground his mandibles together.

“We came all this way! We’ve crossed thousands of miles! We’ve fought thousands of foes! We won't be stopped here by you!”

“And yet one of you has already been struck down.” She leaned forward. “You bear the gear of a warrior, with all the wear and tear of one that rushes eagerly into battle. Your eyes betray your hatred for all life. Hallownest has already suffered enough like you, and it doesn't need another husk to add to the pile.”

“Shut up, you self-righteous bitch!!” Tiso gently set his friend down. He brushed his friend’s antennae out to be smooth with the back of his hand. His eyes lingered on his friend’s face, serene and smiling as it had always been. He hadn't died in battle. He died of a permanent disease, a smile on his face as he bade Tiso good luck before going to sleep last night, smiling as he dreamt his beautiful last dream. Tiso had knelt by his side for hours, shaking him and begging him to wake up in vain. Wake up, please, wake up. If it had been a foe, his friend would’ve won. But against his own body, he had no chance. His flame burned too bright and had consumed him completely, then fizzled out when it was out of fuel. Tiso was scrambling to find any small spark to rekindle him. Wake up. Wake up, wake up, wake up. He didn't wake up. The only bug that had ever known and respected and loved Tiso was gone.

I promised. i promised i promised i promised

Tiso stood up, drawing his nail and his friend's crossbow.

“We’re not turning back now! Not when we’ve come so far! Not when we’re so close!” His opponent leapt swiftly, throwing the needle as she did. It hurtled towards Tiso, a trail of gossamer silk trailing behind wrapped around the opponent’s wrist. It would take her with it shortly afterwards. Tiso calculated all of this in an instant. He stepped aside and aimed the crossbow, firing twice. The first iron bolt sliced through the silk with surgical precision. The second hit the needle, sending it careening into the distance. His opponent hit the ground, now unarmed. As Tiso lunged forward to plunge his blade into her chest, she leapt backwards towards her weapon. The red of her cloak fluttered, inciting his rage as though she were his matador. She stood between him and glory. She stood between him and all he had left. His heart was embroiled in pain and a writhing darkness. He didn't know who she was, but he wanted her dead. He wanted to bathe in her blood. A scream that had been bubbling in the back of his throat since he first lost his only friend now burst forth in an anguished crescendo as he fired wildly, forgetting to lead his target and always just barely missing. The hem of her cloak was in tatters where the bolts had pinned it to the ground and she had torn away. She crouched for a moment, the briefest of seconds, to grab her nail.

That was all it took.

A bolt struck her shoulder, pinning her to the cliff behind her. Another struck her other shoulder, a third and a fourth hit her cloak and her right horn. A fifth would’ve pierced her heart, but she managed to lift her needle just in time. Tiso took off running after her, swaying slightly. His limbs were still tired, but his pounding blood and rushing adrenaline drove him forward. He braced his nail. It clashed against her needle as he crashed into it. He slashed at her wildly, a sharp cry with each swing, a sharper clink as she moved her needle to block. Blue blood seeped into her red cloak, forming purple stains. He hadn't noticed it was blue at the time, but now he could see the color vividly. Her breathing was harried and shallow, pained and panicked. Tiso finally stopped trying to kill her, collapsing to one knee and gasping for breath. He looked up at the object of his undeserved hatred. He saw fear in her eyes. She dropped her needle and ripped the bolts out of her shoulder. Tiso didn't stop her as she made her escape, the needle being yanked up after her with its new thread of silk. Within seconds, she was gone. Nothing remained but scraps of red and pools of blue. Tiso slammed his fist into the ground with a shout, then grabbed his own antennae and pulled down as hard as he could. All he could do was scream. It was all he could do to keep from crying again.

“Tiso…?”

Tiso snapped back to attention. A glint of pink light reflected off of his shield in Y/N’s hand. Its voice was soft and gentle. It was looking directly at him. Why? How?

He looked down.

He had its hand in a vice grip. It had folded its claws over his fingers, though it had closed its hand a bit too much since it didn't know precisely where his ended.

“Are you okay?”

Flickers of steel. Flickers of chitin. Only two hands had ever held his. First his friend. Now his…

What was it?

What was Y/N to him?

His… perhaps that was enough description. His. He was dead. What he called those around him didn't matter anymore. Y/N held Tiso’s friend and Tiso’s hand with the same tenderness. It held his hand with the same tenderness his friend had long ago.

Tap.

“Is there… anything I can do about it?”

Please just… keep holding my hand….

He rested his head on Y/N’s shoulder and closed his eyes. He couldn't feel Y/N’s physical touch, but he could imagine it as vividly as if he had. He heard its cloak shift as it moved. It had lifted an arm. Perhaps it was trying to embrace him. That would be nice. He missed being held. He used to hate it, but after going so long without it…

“I know I’ve said this before, but you’re like… a ray of sunshine… I haven't felt the sun since I arrived in Hallownest.” Tiso had refused to surface until he accomplished his dream.

Then we’re the same…

They didn't stay long. As soon as Tiso pulled away from Y/N’s embrace, the two began scaling the remaining mountain. Y/N’s claws made quick work of the ascent, and it mostly just scaled the wall. It finally reached the top. The wind blew hard up here, but not as hard as the whirlwinds Tiso had remembered walking through. A statue of a bug Tiso had never seen before was at the top of the mountain, leaned to the side on its eroded base. Its face was aimed at the sky, as though screaming with the same pain that had darkened Tiso’s heart up until now. It had wings instead of arms, and a crown on its head. It didn't look like the statues of the Pale King Tiso had seen everywhere. Perhaps this was His ancestor.

Y/N didn't seem to care much about the statue. It instead sat on the edge of the cliff, staring at the town below. It was weaving some small practice webs between its claws and eating a few chunks of fruit and some seeds from its basket to recover from the climb. The sky darkened further. Y/N eventually left the cliffside and began weaving its larger web, using the statue to anchor the strands that went up and left and the mountain to anchor the ones that connected down and right. The finished web was beautiful and gossamer, only barely visible thanks to a small amount of reflected light. It was perfect. Tiso hadn't realized how much progress Y/N had made.

“There we go. Does that look nice?”

Tap tap tap.

“I think so too.” Tiso could hear the smile in its voice. It spun a bit more silk, making a nest just barely big enough for itself to lay down in. “Now I guess we wait…” Tiso sat down on the stone next to the nest. They held a vigil together, eagerly watching the web to see the dew collect on it. Tiso watched Y/N shiver every time the wind blew. He watched its eyes slide closed as the sky grew darker. Eventually, it fell asleep. Tiso continued watching the web and Y/N. It was lonely. Quiet. He was desperately avoiding any memories. He looked at Y/N again.

The sound of the cleaver against chitin.

The sheen of yellow blood on red cloth.

The sharp strike of a match.

The gentle bubbling of a pot.

The contrast of a dark meat sauce on white webs.

A gentle melody, hummed endlessly in the dim light of a dying flame over a steaming bowl of stew.

These, too, were memories. These, too, were things he could relive in his mind. These were sights and sounds that he could recall vividly, and that he would have the privilege to experience again. He wished he could experience tactile sensations again. He couldn't feel them, but he could imagine them. Despite himself, he nestled into Y/N’s woven bed. He tucked its head against his chest and draped his arm over its shoulder. He imagined the feeling of silk against his chitin. He saw Y/N stop shivering in his embrace. He had his back to the town, his face towards the web. He recalled his first trek into Y/N’s den, a den he now considered his own to an extent. He remembered knocking it into the thorns and laughing, then regretting it when Y/N started to cry. He remembered reaching around it to squeeze the trigger in its hand to save it from the Stalking Devout. He remembered it showing him its scarf of geo, which it had only woven to bring him back to the arena he had unfinished business in. He remembered watching it eat Zote the Mighty alive. He remembered the first bowl of stew it had made him, how it had sung his name with such joy. Tiso. Ti-So. Tiiiii-sooooo~

The clouds cleared during the night. High up on the mountain, the sun rose much earlier. The sky was painted a gentle, beautiful blue. Tiso’s favorite color. In the delicate not-quite-light, perfectly round sparkles of light glistened on the gossamer web Y/N had woven. In their reflection, he saw his future.

Y/N was once nothing but a spider to him. A foe to be cut down, not deserving personhood. As he looked at it, no, at them, he finally realized something that should’ve been obvious as soon as they gently and lovingly carried his corpse home.

Thanks to them, he wasn't alone anymore.

Tap tap tap tap. Wake up, Y/N…