Book One – Chapter 10

None but a fledgling fersis took notice of Midnight’s silent passage. It struggled, which only tightened the webs around its delicate throat. Still, bloodshot, golden eyes unwaveringly focused on Midnight, following her every step as she moved past. It did not plead, but it watched her. It was very young, and yet, at the threshold of death, its eyes beheld a wise understanding — Midnight could act if she wanted to, but there was no reason for her to do so.

Midnight was a transient traveller, not an entity living within the mountain. It was not her place to intervene, and not in her interest to steal another predator’s prey. However, even though Midnight knew all that, her intuitive disgust for these arachnids and the intense smell of fighting life lingered with her for a long time.

At the threshold where the arachnids domain yielded to unclaimed passageways, Midnight detected entities emerging from a depth of darkness far beyond her reach. Though she had never encountered or sensed such beings before, her transformation imbued her with a deeper understanding of the darkness and those who thrived within. Drawing from this newfound knowledge, Midnight recognised these beings by an ancient name, a whisper through the annals of time — DΔϢΠΙΠƓϛ [dawnings].They were the living contrast of shadows.

Shadows consumed and obscured where light faltered, while DΔϢΠΙΠƓϛ arose from the abyss of utter darkness, taking shape where light dared not tread. Slithering along the cavern walls, their fluid, amorphous shapes momentarily coalesced into grotesque visages. Elongated limbs reached out with cold feelers that brushed against Midnight’s form. Their touch, though not invasive, probed and caressed, silently beseeching her for a response.

Midnight understood that they sought something from her. They wanted her to give.