This is a work of fiction.
There is a garden somewhere which we shall view from within. We are in a tree looking out, the leaves of the tree are a beautiful green-gold shining translucent in the yellow sun. The grass in the garden is a vivid green. Not a dark green but a green that has been thinned to incandescence by the ever present rays of the sun. The few flowers in the mass of green are somehow brighter still. A contrast which a looker might feel hurts their eyes yet only serves to delight. They are red and blue and purple. Some others are white.
There are no birds in the garden, not right now. There are human children, they are playing and the garden is as bright to them as I have just unsuccessfully conveyed it to you. They play alone, there parents trusting to the high walls around the garden (did I neglect to mention them?) to keep the children safe.
The children, one boy one girl, are good friends just as their two sets of parents are. Those parents are already at the stage where they smile and nod to each other, every time the boy comforts the girl or the girl tells off the boy. The children notice this and are only vaguely aware of what this means.
I mentioned a wall before, yes? It is tall and old but still strong. But like most walls of any age there are cracks. And within those cracks live things.
Let us draw back though and enjoy the view. It won't stay this way for long.
A shadow appears within a crack in the wall and gently stretches forth from within. It is spindly and two dimensional and only really noticeable by us because there is nothing close to cast it.
Let us save time and assume that this thing is a leg of a spider. It isn't, of course, but you are not reading this for truisms. The leg makes contact with the ground and pulls itself forward. More spindly shadows are pulled from the crack and pretty soon we have an entire shadow to view. It is like a spider, but it only has five legs. It is an old spider, one that has begun to grey. A spider that has spun so many webs and caught so many flies that it has completely tired of spiderdom.
It strides, not scuttles, onto the lawn of the garden, invisible to most people except perhaps those that can see it. It is the height of a man.
It moves towards the children, currently sitting in their game. Its target is clear but it is too old to run. It stalks.
The girl sees it, stands and screams. The girl would best be described as 'flowery'. She has a flower pattern on her dress (which her mother let her choose herself) and flowers, white ones, in a chain around her neck. Her hair is very dark, darker than the spider.
The boy turns, still sitting. The girl runs towards the house.
The boy contrasts to the girl in that he is wearing greys. His clothes are smart but not chosen by a child. The girl is more easily frightened than the boy. This is perhaps the problem. The spider pounces.
The girl returns with a mother. She tries to point at the spider so her mother will believe her reason for crying. For some reason now more determined to find it than she had been to get away from it.
The boy is consulted about the spider. He says he did not see it. The girl wonders why he is lying but is not the type to confront someone about such things. She does not see the spider again.
They return to their games. The colours in the garden are more muted now, far more dull and ordinary. They do not play for long, there is a chill in the air and neither of them feel like playing. A good night's sleep solves this for the girl but the boy is never very good at playing again. After a few more attempts he leaves games behind.
Time marches on.
The boy is now twice the age he was.
He is at a boarding school, which is not as bad as the ones he'd heard about. He is not very good at science or reason but he has a keen eye for magic so he specialises in that. He can move pencils with his mind. He sleeps easily and has a hard time waking up. He believes the place has a spider infestation; his room is always covered in cobwebs.
He has friends but he tends to keep himself to himself. He reads and doesn't find much to like in the things other people like. He gets tired too easily for sports and can't stand too many people around him. He is often hungry so he learns how to cook. He is often bored so he listens closely to his teachers.
Time passes. The boy is now three times the age he once was.
He goes on a trip to far off lands, the sea is rough, but he could not afforded to ride on the back of one of the great flying beasts so he learns to wards off seasickness. He walks endless courses around the ship he is on.
Three weeks in to his journey a storm hits and it is mighty. The sailors know they will likely not survive. He tries to help them, to tie down ropes and make things secure. A wave hits and he is almost pulled over board. Others are.
The waves are so high they are like walls of water on either side of the ship. He looks into the wall of deep and sees people their in the blue blackness. The sky and the sea merged above him in one of their rare meetings. He steps forward, trusting in the kindness of the sea people.
The water hits him and he feels himself pushed backwards, feels thin but strong arms around him.
He opens his eyes to find himself on his soaking ship. The sky above is clear though it is still a night time black in every direction. The ship rides the tiny eye of a massive storm. It is beautiful, but he does not see any of that.
Before him stands a person. Her age is indeterminate but she has long hair the colour of a shipwreck and she is naked. He sees her face and falls in love instantly and begins to say something.
Her finger is pressed to his lips instantly so to form an accidental kiss. She looks up to him and smiles a sharks smile (that is, if sharks did smile, which they don't). There is seaweed in her hair and something in her tide pool eyes that would have been madness in anyone else's. She bites him without hunger or malice on the forearm, leaving a crescent mark that never heals. She backs away from him and throws herself into the sea. He is the only one left on deck.
A little time passes.
He continues to travel for a while but always returns to somewhere near home. One day he visits a friend of a friend's house and finds a woman there reading in the sun.
She is not reading a book that he would consider reading but seems to be enjoying it. They talk for a while and they are both more mocking than complementary. With a cursory glance he sees that she is not very beautiful compared to so many. She probably thought the same of him.
They part on fair terms though and do not expect to see each other again. They do though, at another friend's party, and are married within two years.
He makes it to the new world he was looking for and continues his studies in the jungle. The heat is intense and the amenities primitive but he makes do. His work is of little interest to anyone but himself and his few backers but he enjoys it none the less.
His wife has come with him and she misses her home but enjoys the sun. With prodding from her they make new friends. He continues to venture deeper into the jungle, looking for clues to ancient magics.
One day he found a ruin of a great temple. It was so choked in creepers that only a few human shaped statues still struggled to keep the place looking civilised. He climbed to the top of the temple, avoiding most of the traps and found a bell on high.
Now, if he had been an archaeologist he may have been trained against such things, but he wasn't so he hadn't been. He struck the bell.
The great beast descended from the canopy, for though the temple was tall it was not as tall as the jungle. The creature was covered in vines and flowers, its feathered wings all the colours of parrots. It had a beak and teeth and circled him easily. He reckoned it for a dragon but had never read about one such as this.
It perched on an archway at the front of the temple, bird claws grasping as its creepers did. It displayed its chest, red and black and defiantly poisonous. It roared but not to threaten, it welcomed.
He climbed down from the temple and walked towards the beast, but afterwards he could never explain to himself why. It looked at him with an ancient glare. One eye shone like the sun the other glimmered like the moon on water. He did not have a word for the beast in front of him. It may once have been a god. He fell to his knees and awaited judgement, but when he arose it was gone.
The night after he returned from the expedition he made love to his wife with more passion than he ever had before. This newfound exuberance lasted longer than any feeling he had had in years. It lasted for about three weeks.
The temple was a great find, but that was not what filled him with joy. He had seen something that perhaps no one else would. He never returned to the temple but told others where to go. He wasn't there when they rang the bell.
He is now five times older than he once was.
He and his wife had moved back home. They did not live in the same home anymore due to him once being distracted from her by something that should not have distracted him.
He had some children but they are not in this story much.
He taught ancient magics at a school of little repute and went hunting on the weekends.
Time went by slowly and it seemed that the world was getting greyer. It took most of his energy to keep his house free of cobwebs. He read more than ever and sometimes tried to write about his life but he could not describe the things he wanted to and didn't want to describe the things he could.
There was a war about now that I would not mention except that for a while he was a soldier. He would always say that he was not a very good one as he had been hit by the very first missile that had been thrown towards him. He did not include in the joke that the ogre which had thrown it had killed all of his other squad mates, its claws shining red with blood, or it had been his spell which had brought it down on top of him.
He went back home and the war ended soon after, as if the world had only organised it in order to wound him.
He went back to teaching, his cane making him feel old.
Time passed, he is now old. His scar on his arm still stings like salt in the blood sometimes. His leg is often stiff.
He has grand children who he gets on well with and children he does not. He has never been poor but the dust makes his home look it. He no longer fights the cobwebs.
He sits back and remembers. He remembers visiting a house with a great walled garden. He is taller than he once was. There he met a girl with very dark hair and in a flowery dress. He asked her if her mother was in and it turned out she was. The three of them had had a pleasant chat and some delicious cake in the garden he had once played in. It's was brighter than he remembered. He left before her husband got home.
He sits and remembers this as hard as he can. Every word and every inflection, looking for clues to
something.
He opened his eyes and saw the spider. He was sitting in the chair opposite, its form pressed by the years into that of a man. It's jagged extra limb looking completely wrong.
"I was wondering when you would do something." He spoke to the spider for the very first time.
"I kept the flies away" says the spider in a tone that conveyed only words.
He scratched at the scar on his arm. "Yes."
"Do you know why I chose you, all those years ago?" The spider says.
"Yes" he says "because the girl ran away too fast."
"That is correct" said the spider "I would never have taken your life on by choice. She had only love and happiness in her future." It seemed to sigh "But I am too old and too injured to be chasing girls."
They sat quietly for a moment. The old man took a dink of brown alcohol.
"Any regrets?" asks the man.
"Have you?" says the spider. It was not a spider.
The man thought for a long moment as the glass fell from his hand.
"I have seen the green of pure life given form. I have felt the mercy of the sea even as I felt its sting. I have been in love and watched my children grow to adulthood. I have killed a creature that was red with the blood of my friends. And now, thanks to you, I know that the girl I have cared for and missed for my entire life has always been happy and free of doubt" He said "and spiders."
The spider nodded. "But you did not tame the wild beast. You did not win the war, or keep your love or dive to the deep and see the wonders that dwell below."
"That was for other people. I can be content knowing that that happens. I do not regret all I haven't done. Do you?"
The spider stretched out the final seconds it had to talk. They lasted for a long time.
"No. I only regret that I cannot continue on with you."
"Why not?" said the old man.
"Because you will go nowhere else. The path you are about to take is not a journey." It said.
"Are you sure?" said the man. The spider shrugged and shook its head. "Then take a chance. I could do with some company and I can think of no one better."
The spider considered this and agreed. He retook his place at the man's side.
In a moment they were gone.
The End
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