Spinner was still mad at Hawk. He needed time to cool off, so he thought he would get to work on a new task. Hawk wanted the Silkins to investigate the terrain in the arena and scout out competitors. That’s just what he was going to do.

  The time it takes for a Silkin to travel was unreasonable, but Spinner was lucky enough to stow himself away on some people’s clothes. First, a family was walking back to the inn. Spinner had climbed into a Chlorophane girl’s shirt. She kept asking questions about elves. It was kind of cute.

  The girl took him through the inn and halfway up Arena Avenue when she turned into a small tea shop. Spinner swung off of her and landed on a light pole. The world was sideways. The light pole hung onto the sidewalk were buildings branched out into the sky. It was still early and the street smelled of musty herbs. Most of the people he watched were Chlorophanes. The islands were their home after all.

  An orange draconian man who walked on all-fours parted the crowds around him. From the ground, the man was almost as tall as some of the older Chlorophanes, but he could be much taller if he stood up. Seeing him as an express traveler, Spinner cast a new line and swung in-between his horns.

  No one ever noticed if a Silkin was traveling on them. Spinner was invisible to everyone he had not intentionally revealed himself to. He thought for a moment that if Hawk ever really upset him, he might hide from him too. Their argument was not so bad, he hoped.

  Back down a ridge of red and black spikes, Spinner watched the world passing by. Through the intersections, he peered down roads with no end in sight. Oak Port must have been at least as big as Vera City. Less of it was hidden in jungle vegetation. The trees on the island were mostly old pines, spruce, and oak. They were in-between a few of the buildings but just as tall.

  Spinner saw a few groups of tourists with their back packs and maps. They were pointing at the arena where Spinner was heading. The groups were colorful. Fairies, small and bright with feathers and scaled bug wings fluttered alongside elves. It reminded him of the Silkins swinging around Hawk. Other groups consisted of humans dressed in floral prints ready to hit the beach before competition. Even Spinner’s draconian had paired up with another who was a deeper purple than Hawk’s jacket.

  “I’ve got some news that you are going to get a kick out of,” Purple said.

  “Oh, really?” The orange draconian feigned amusement. Whenever he spoke, his whole body rumbled below Spinner.

  Purple rammed Orange lightly, playful. Purple said, “the big boss is coming down from his tower to fight us. We might finally get a real challenge.”

  Orange tilted his head. Spinner was tied to his horn and for a moment he hung right in front of Orange’s eye. Brilliant green; he did not see his reflection inside.

  “You know: King Alder, the monarch level mage.”

  Orange snorted. “Is he being serious about competing? I’ll snap him like a twig between my teeth.”

  “Yeah,” Purple replied, awkward. “Maybe don’t say that so loud in a crowd of Chlorophanes.”

  Orange snapped his jaws, saying, “why should I care?”

  Purple shook his head in disapproval. “Anyway, he’s in a league of his own. We will only be able to face him in the team match ups.”

  “I thought that the format was going to be individual duels after the initial event,” Orange said.

  “They had to change the event. There is a few monarchs, but not enough to form a pool. Also, they are way too strong to duel the archmages, so they decided to do a team event instead,” Purple responded.

  “I get it,” Orange said, nodding. “Team events are better for spectators anyway.”

  Orange’s nodding swung Spinner around. It was a little fun. He had new information now too. Hawk should be preparing himself for a team event instead of a duel. It almost relieved him that Hawk wouldn’t be fighting alone. Now if only he could find information about the team compositions. No one knew yet who would make it through the qualifying event. Spinner hoped to at least find a general format for fairly dividing the teams between different magical ranks.

  The draconians passed the base of the arena. Out in front there was a giant brass stature of a strange looking draconian. He had no horns. Instead, he had four ears that were rounded like one of the jackrabbits from Aridia. The plack at his feet read: Vincent Cyrus the Supreme Sage of the Old World and father of the World Tree.

  All around the arena, Chlorophane guards were stationed with their spears at the ready. They blocked off each entrance and patrolled the perimeter of the park surrounding the arena. Some had furry creatures on a leash. Dogs: companions bonded to their mage, not so different from Silkins. Spinner imagined that the high security was to keep anyone from sabotaging the games. As an invisible and very tiny being, it was no barrier to him.

  Spinner hopped off Orange's back and he continued on with his friend. Around the side of the arena Spinner found a door. He slipped under the crack and entered into the arena. It was nice and cool inside. It was hard to see after being in the sun, but his eyes adjusted fast.

  The arena’s interior came into view and Spinner was shocked. Hundreds of thousands of Silkins were crawling through the halls. They were from every clan in Vestra. He had memorized the markings of the bigger clans, spotting the Weaver, Reaper, Tule and Needle clans. Lesser known clans represented themselves, grouping together with Silkins of similar patterns. The oldest clan present was the Opal clan. Being sustained by a powerful mage, their Silkins lived much longer than others. And they were big. The neon Silkins glowed in the dim light. They walked over everyone.

  “Excuse me,” Spinner tapped on a girl from the needle clan. “What is everyone doing here?”

  She turned around, observing his clan markings. “Oh, you’re a Spix,” she said dismissively. She hid herself within the never ending flow of Silkins.

  Spinner was confused. “Can someone tell me what this is?”

  Once noticed, the Silkins steered clear of Spinner. Something about him was wrong.

  “Go back to your mage, Spix!” An anonymous voice called.

  “Enjoy your pile of bones!” Another yelled back, adding more vile words after that.

  Spinner was young and did not understand the hatred that surrounded him. Hawk was the first and only mage he ever had. Nothing was wrong with Hawk. Well, nothing too bad.

  A tiny Silkin, smaller than Spinner tapped at his legs. “Hey, don’t listen to them.”

  Spinner crouched down to the fuzzy yellow Silkin. He was from one of the lesser clans.

  “I don’t understand what any of them are talking about,” Spinner said.

  The little guy crossed four of his arms. “It’s simple little one. They pity you, but not enough to forget their jealousy.”

  “What do you mean? I love and respect Hawk, but I couldn’t see anyone being envious over him,” Spinner replied, feeling unconformable under the larger Silkins.

  The yellow hairs on the Silkin stood up, surprised. “Jealous of Hawk?” He laughed. “Does your elder not teach you anything?” The tiny Silkin waved and walked away from Spinner. No one wanted anything to do with him.

  Spinner gave up on getting any answers from the other clans. This was something he was going to have to address with his elder. Following the crowd, he tried to hide his clan markings. He spun a quick wrappings over them. If anyone got too curious he would say that he sprained his legs. All eight of them somehow. Bluffing was not his strong suite.

  The Silkins filled through cracks in the wall opening into a hidden chamber. Before them was a series of lines. Spinner watched those in front of him wrap their limbs around the lines. They tugged twice and then shot up out of sight. Spinner had no time to hesitate. The Silkins behind him were pushing him. He was going to be crushed against the wall.

  Without hesitation, Spinner wrapped the unusual silk around hims limbs. The weave was unique among the clans. It was stronger than steel. He tugged once. Twice. The line tightened around his limbs.

  A hidden pulley system sent Spinner up the wall faster than he could process. His limbs felt like they were going to pop out. The wall blurred behind him. Above, the light grew larger. Smaller Silkins raced even faster than him. He heard them cheering in their small voices.

  Spinner screamed.

  Hitting the end of the line, Spinner lost his grip. He continued to fly up with the speedy ascent. A web nestled into an extended crevice at the top of the arena caught him. It stretched far behind him and recoiled. Spinner was shot out onto the roof of the arena. He tumbled over the roof, before finding his footing again.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  Reflecting like rainbow panels of stained glass, the greatest web Spinner had ever seen spanned over the top of the arena. The lines were brighter than the sheets of silk that his clan made for the markets. Silkin or not, it must have been visible to everyone from the benches below.

  Strung between two obelisks was another web weaved of pure light. A neon blue Silkin elder with vivid orange markings perched upon the silk throne. His markings identified himself as being from the Opal clan. Between the elder’s limbs, he was sewing a large web sheet. All of the Silkin’s crowded around him, holding their breaths.

  Spinner had a hard time reading the web from so far away. Shimmying between taller legs and fuzzy bodies, he tried to squeeze in closer. He felt someone tapping at his abdomen. Behind him there was a Silkin, shiny black with a red hour glass marking. The Reaper clan.

  There was no competition, Spinner gave way for the larger Silkin. Then more kept coming. The amassing clan was a dark wave straight out of the Dread Sea. Soon, the whole Reaper clan had him surrounded.

  “Spix kid,” they whispered amongst themselves. “He shouldn’t have come here.”

  The one behind him said, “The kid smells like textiles and blueberries.”

  “They don’t know combat anymore,” a Reaper lady replied.

  Spinner tried to ignore them talking about him. The Reapers smelled like something had climbed into them, died, and lay rotting in their jaws. Their glossy carapaces reflected a slight rainbow. He could see nothing past them, but he could still listen.

  Thin red legs stepped around Spinner and the Reapers. It was the Reaper elder, stepping up to the obelisks. Looking through the swarm, Spinner peaked at the Reaper clan elder kneeling before the neon blue Opal.

  Crowd chatter muffled the Reaper’s voice. “Esfress,” he greeted the Opal elder, raising his front limbs straight up in a salute.

  The elder hung down from his web and rested his hand on the Reaper’s head. “Kololok,” he said, acknowledging him. Then the elder returned to his place high up on his web. “Silkins!” He called out, spreading his upper limbs. “I see each and every great clan among us today. Many of you have come from the furthest reaches of our world, but none could beat my fellow Opals who traveled straight from the Gray Realm.”

  The other neon Silkins, glittering among the crowd cheered and danced.

  Elder Esfress silenced them. Again, he spoke, saying, “regardless of where you are from, or what mage you serve, everyone is here for one thing: the games. Here, I have a list of all known participants,” he said holding up his web sheet. “Before the preliminary betting begins, my good friend from the Reaper clan has an important reminder for everyone. Come on up, Kololok,” he said, inviting the Reaper elder into his web.

  Spinner could see the Reaper elder climbing above the crowd. Esfress made room for Kololok and climbed up to the top of the obelisk. The Reaper elder’s carapace was blood red with a black hourglass on his abdomen. He had white eyes, long black fangs, and thorny spikes all over his limbs.

  A gentle breeze rippled the web where Kololok hung. “These laws,” he began, letting the words hang in the air with him. “Our Law of the Web, which we believed is weaved into our very souls, shall not be broken without consequence. In the past, some have betrayed our nature and our traditions. They see themselves as above our vows. Meddling in the lives and fates of those we oversee. This will not stand!” Kololok spat orange venom, steaming like lava.

  Esfress loomed further above Kololok, listening to the Reaper. A look of deep satisfaction rested on his face.

  Spinner shrunk into the shadows of the Reapers. Kololok looked to be speaking at him. Guilt and panic prickled at his hairs. What had his clan done wrong?

  Kololok continued, voice booming, he said, “if any Silkin here thinks of themselves as a lawless, common house spider, then I invited them to make a fool of themselves and their clan. Should any Silkin meddle in the games, weather that be helping their mage directly, or providing information, I will be the judge. And with Esfress’ command: the executioner.”

  The Silkins gathered were dead silent. Those nearest to Kololok had backed away for fear of his spitting venom. Spinner shifted, uncomfortable in the tightening crowd.

  “So let me be clear,” Kololok announced. “If you are so foolish as to interfere in the games, I will personally tear you limb from limb until you die.” He slid his spiked limbs back and forth over each other. The grinding sound of an ax sharpening rang out over all.

  Kololok crawled down from the web throne and the crowd parted as he rejoined his clan. Like a spear, his leg fell right in front of Spinner.

  Spinner saw his reflection on the Reapers glossy red exterior. Hooked spikes surrounded him. He was so small. Kololok did not need his venom or strength to kill him. The Reaper elder only needed to take one step back and Spinner would be crushed. Fearful, Spinner had heard enough and wanted to leave. He began working his way out through the crowd.

  Esfress retook center stage, swinging off the obelisk and back onto his throne. Spinner could hear the Opal clan elder begin again, all too calm after that, saying, “Thank you Kololok. Glad to hear that no one will live to tell the tale of how they cheated in the games. Now why don’t we take a look at our roster and start talking money.”

  Spinner dodged under larger Silkins scuttling limbs as he went against the crowd’s current. Smaller Silkins slammed their bodies against him on their way over to where Esfress had posted the roster. He was getting swept away. Spinner squeezed through a group of ladies from the Needle clan. Jostled by their passing, he did not notice that the wrappings he used to hide his clan markings had come loose.

  A group of little Silkins skittered around Spinner. One got tangled up in his wrappings and fell. The other little ones behind him ran into him and toppled over together. Spinners legs were pulled back with them and he slid to the ground.

  All of them folded over on top of each other arguing and complaining. Spinner’s leg was caught at an awkward angle. Using his front legs he dragged himself out of the pile-up.

  “Hey!” one of the recovering Silkins shouted at him. “Is this your shoddy work?” She held up unraveling lines of Silk.

  Spinner attempted to back away, but a Reaper Kololok behind her clan bumped him forth. “Yes, yes, it’s mine,” he rushed his reply.

  She hissed back at him, bearing her small fangs. Then, she hurried to go help her clan.

  The Reaper overshadowed the whole struggle. She lowered her long black limbs into the tangle of Silkins. The little ones grabbed onto her legs and she lifted them back onto their feet. Luckily, no one had been injured.

  Spinner apologized, in a hurry to leave. The Reaper’s shiny limbs formed a cage around Spinner’s retreat. She looked under her legs at him and he cowered. “What a mess. You weave like a worm,” she laughed.

  “It was a rush job,” Spinner squeaked.

  She hung her head lower to observe him closely. Her mouth opened in amusement. Spinner got a close look at her fangs, thin red needles.

  “Oh you’re the Spix I keep hearing about. Why don’t you come up here before the Mite clan decides to eat you?” Her tone sounded gentler, but with all of the surrounding hostility Spinner could not trust anyone.

  Beyond the Reaper’s cage the Mites were still arguing amongst themselves. Spinner did not want to wait for that rage to be turned onto him. There were so many Silkins around him that had already openly ridiculed his clan. Why would she want to help him and could he even refuse?

  Before he could make up his mind, she picked him up and set him on her back. Far from the chaos below, Spinner could make out the whole roof of the arena. It stretched out like a long flat plane of tan stone The web spanning over the arena skylight was angled so that he could see more of it’s pattern.

  Woven in the Silkin language, the fragments he read said, “The strong fight for freedom. The weak fight to be strong. All those who fight will win.”

  Near the edge of the arena Silkins had gathered around long tables. Thousands of wings were set aside as betting prizes. Other groups stood off to the sides talking with other clans. Esfress oversaw operations, escorted by his friend Kololok and another Reaper.

  “Why are you helping me,” Spinner asked the Reaper.

  “I don’t like watching the little ones turn like seam rippers against their own,” she replied simply. “By the way, my name is Ebony Reaper. What should I call you?”

  “Spinner… Spix.”

  “Why do you claim your family name like it pains you?” She said, moving over to a collection of web hammocks overlooking the arena floor.

  “I don’t know,” Spinner replied. “Ever since I got here, I feel like I have been despised for something I can’t even remember. I don’t know what my clan did, but I wasn’t apart of it back then.”

  Ebony stood up on the hammock balancing as she pushed it back and forth. “I may be bigger than most, but I’m young too. Whatever your clan may have done, it did didn’t hurt me. It’s in the past.”

  “Well, thanks,” Spinner said.

  “Yeah. The others might get mad at me for helping you, but I not worried about that. Having worked away from my clan, I’m ignorant about theses things, but I think I’m right too. Regardless of what happened, it’s more important for us to be working together now,” Ebony said, folding her legs under herself. “And its not hard to be nice, either.”

  “Then what about making fun of my weaving?” Spinner joked.

  “It’s just bad. That’s a fact.”

  Spinner recoiled.

  “To be fair, mines not much better. Though, I’m more of an enforcer type than a skilled artisan.”

  Spinner felt her shrug under him. Her carapace was so smooth, he slipped on his way down to the webs. Righting himself onto his own web hammock he smiled, embarrassed, back at his new friend.

  “At least you are good at something that makes you useful. I’m only good at talking, maybe casting a spell,” Spinner sighed.

  Ebony leaned off the side of her hammock, letting her legs dangle. “Maybe it matters who you talked to,” she said, trying to help him again.

  “The only one I talk to is my mage. I rarely speak with anyone else,” Spinner said.

  Ebony nearly fell off her hammock. She had leaned so far forward that she spun upside down. She shifted her weight around and flipped back to being right-side-up. “You talk to your mage? Isn’t that not allowed?”

  “Is it?” Spinner tilted his head. That might be a part of why the other Silkins had been so hostile.

  Ebony crawled down the posts that held her hammock. “I, uh, am going to talk to my elder.” She noticed Spinner running to stop her. “I’m not going to tell them about you; I just need to know. Still, you should probably leave,” she said picking him up and putting him an arm’s length away.

  Thanks to Ebony, he was far enough away from the crowd to walk out. He watched what he had hoped was a new friend walking away. Slipping away under the opening in the back wall, he left the Silkins behind.

  Making his way down Arena Avenue, back to the inn, a shadow passed over Spinner. He looked up to see a group of dragons flying overhead in a diamond. The lead dragon was massive and green. It was the same dragon that he had seen wrapping herself around Vera Fortress. They passed over the arena, continuing on to land at the base of the Elder Tree.

  The King of Verlass had arrived.