Looking up with wide, veiled, lavender eyes, Arachne saw her mother, the greatest Matron Mother of Abburth giving service to the Chapel that Olath-Tangi, preaching the Spider Queen's teachings with an intimidating amount of dignity that made even her, just merely seven years of age, envious of her power and status.
But not in a way that someone like her younger sister would, but in a sense of pure and unshakeable admiration. Looking at her mother, she saw the epitome of beauty and status, while also maintaining it with fierce power and strength. Understanding that one day she would be that powerful and beautiful made her feel not too short of assured and self-satisfied.
As the congregation spoke with Matron Aunerae, in prayer to Lolth and asking for Her love, Arachne felt a sense of safety she knew was uncommon among those who lived in the Underdark. Even the Other Races, those that were not dark elves, still found themselves enveloped by the danger that they had to suffer through day by day, struggling to survive through all the hardships that were thrown their way. Some said it was because they turned away Lolth's love in Her children's lands, but some even said that the Houseless who lived in Abburth, who still loved and revered Lolth, were committing the ultimate sin by not dying with their families, instead cursing themselves to a remaining life of misfortune.
It had always been that way, as far as Arachne was aware. She, living in the House of the highest status, would be protected and, in time, would learn to protect herself. (Her father had already begun teaching her how to shoot from a hand crossbow, and how to properly use rapiers and shortswords, and now kept weapons hidden within her well-made robes, and wore chainmail underneath the thick fabric.) While the others, being either Houseless or living in lower ranked Houses, were subjected to more danger, and thus had to watch their backs even while they slept. Although it was all the same for her, as well, seeing as she had found spies lingering outside her window sills and door, keeping her safe as she slept, as she had not achieved the art of the Reverie yet due to her age, and therefore was too young to fend for herself.
As they all sat down once again, Matron Aunerae called for another prayer, this time requiring the congregation to kneel upon small kneeling pads offered attached to the stands themselves. Obliging to the Matron's wishes, they knelt, intertwining their fingers together.
Looking next to her, Arachne saw her crimson eyed twin gazing upwards sternly at their mother, her eyes carrying a harshness Arachne could not yet fathom. She was told that the veil was meant to conceal her eyes, to show that she had no emotion, as her eyes, wide and lavender, showed every feeling that she could ever feel. Mother had said that if she didn't cover her eyes for any public event, it may be the end of the House's already shaking reputation; for the reason Arachne had yet to learn.
At the end of the prayer, all looked up to the Matron Mother once more, deep respect glimmering in all their unveiled eyes. As the dusky-skinned woman prepared to speak once more, one of Arachne's older brothers, Dro, seemed to fiddle with his softened hands, only just hardened from his long beginning years at Gloufmarth, the wizard school.
"This day, we shall sacrifice one of my own sons, in prayer that his life will fuel the House's power." She rose her hand, turning her head towards the Coborial family's stands, dark red eyes staring straight at Dro, who, standing up straight and feigning bravery, began walking towards the circle that was being quickly created by the lesser priestesses, and candles being lit that had already been placed in small holders on the ground.
A public sacrifice weekly. That's how it always was. There were many private sacrifices, but public ones were meant to boost the high morale that the House's forces already possessed. It was one of the many reasons why they could hold themselves through everything, and had survived the hard years in which Matron Aunerae had not been able to bear any daughters.
As her brother walked passed, he gave a small pat on her back, that no one appeared to notice, as they were too focused on Matron Aunae's words as she began to chant.
Arachne stood at her Mother's behest, forcing herself to watch this time. Every other sacrifice, especially the last public one in which a newborn had been sacrificed, she could not bring herself to watch. Instead, closing her unseen eyes instead of bearing through the horrible ways in which every single person was killed for Lolth's web and grace.
She figured that it was a waste of life, as in Dro's case, he was rather intelligent and had already gone through a quarter of his time at Gloufmarth, and in what magic he had shown to her, he was quite good at it. Not as skilled as Xarann, the Secondboy of the House, who had just grazed his third-and-a-half century, and had already spent his fifty years in Gloufmarth, including the extra ten that he thought to be required of him to earn the title of High Wizard of Gloufmarth, meaning that he was put in full charge of the school itself. Arachne theorized he had killed the previous High Wizard instead of him, "dying from his crazed state" as some said.
And as Dro began to walk inside the circle, fully accepting his death, Matron Aunerae began chanting the final sermon for the day as her brother screamed and screeched in agony. Her voice, clear and loud despite her screaming offspring, Arachne decided to focus on her instead of the horror that was taking place.
Screams echoed through the chapel as one by one, Dro's limbs were ripped from his body, absorbed by the gaping hole in the ground in which spindling, black and red, spider's legs held him down and bind him to the ground as pain weighed down his voice.
As the chant was spoken, the familiar word the congregation spoke was "kin." The word kin was, as it always had been, harsh and fast, but it hurt especially more as Dro himself was Arachne's kin, even as he began to be disemboweled by the spider's legs by the behest of the priestesses.
Another rigid reminder of the Original Sin they all held was thrown bitterly into the complex chant. Illustrating that, until they were doused in the blood of their first kill (Arachne had yet to receive such religious honor) they were still held accountable for such sin. This such sin was the time in their history in which they had originally turned away the Spider Queen's love and instead turned to the elf god, Corellon, before they had embraced life underneath the sunlight, and into Her clutches.
That prayer was known simply to the drow people as, as "Lolth's Appeal," as all sacrifices heard it before they fell into the Spider Queen's maw. It was as complex as the tunnels that ran deep in the Underdark, and as violet and morbid as the sight before her very eyes.
There lay her brother, dismembered and disemboweled, no long breathing and gasping for the life he was never destined to have. And as the final word of the prayer had been spoken, he had sunk deep into the Demonweb Pits, to be eaten by their Queen whenever she so desired.
Stunned by the sacrifice itself, all the rest of the prayers and speaking became obsolete, as the routine had been with her since she could remember. And as they left the Chapel and descended into the quarters to change their wear to begin standard education, Arachne was left wondering if another of her family would be next.