The child's name was Durdyn Coborial, his fate already sealed as a warrior before he could even understand what it meant. And it proved as such a sad truth that he couldn't stop the things set in motion that had been predetermined far before the knowledge of his gender was revealed, reminding Arachne of the harsh restrictions of the community itself. It had come to the point, even after his birth, she had yet to question the method, seeing as it was how life worked in the Underdark; orderly and fashioned perfectly for survival, that is if you were strong enough.
Durdyn had been alive long enough, too, as well to realize his place in the family in regards to those of higher status. He continued to be treated as Bemril was, despite being the Elderboy at the time. The newest addition to the family was considered as dirt, and would be considered so until he made some form of a name for himself outside of House Coborial's bounds. Arachne had been given the same harsh line of treatment until she had slain Kethan, and had then been known as Drider Conqueror or Queen of Monsters for the very reason that she had steered him to victory. However, there had been some slack given to her, as she was the eldest daughter of a Matron.
It had also been revealed to her of why the Houseless man had been able to control the actions of the Glabrezu, and this was because he was a warlock, and had made dealings with the demon for power. The name and title was just for show, and for mystery to be shrouded about the remainder of the situation, further supporting the name given of her, as warlocks in the Underdark were considered shameful. Just as Tieflings of any sort were considered a sign of blasphemy, and therefore would either be killed or sold into slavery and die before they could eat on their own. All such information was found during the period in which the clerics removed his dwindling soul to deliver to the Demonweb pits for the Spider Queen Herself.
And this was over the course of the past five years Durdyn had been alive, and it had become her responsibility to teach him the necessities of life, as an add on to her additional responsibility due to the fact her name had been smattered across the whole of Abburth. Those soldiers who had witnessed her miraculous feat had spread the word with such haste that few had not heard tell that the eldest daughter of Matron Aunerae was a fighter-to-be. For some strange reason, no one else had heard her humming the tune before she had attacked, the same being for the fact that none had picked up on her rejuvenated state as she did sing the melody to herself.
With all of that aside, today was when Arachne had made the decision to teach her brother (and her first confirmed one, seeing as Xarann was directly related to both Cazna and Bemril) how to read and understand literature. He had passed political speech tests she had put upon him, as much as she despised the subject of study, as well as vocabulary for what the mages of Gloufmarth had decided for his age, and had even excelled in that front, just as Arachne had done before him.
The two had their lessons in the library every day, and, typically Arachne would send a servant to fetch him so that she could enjoy herself reading for a few moments before she occupied her time with her brother, and she had few regrets about that. However, her time just before their time together was spent attempting to find the book Elarra had given her and Chadra to practice their reading only twenty years prior. It had been bound by beautiful silver thread, the surface smooth, while also pertaining the same smell of fresh, polished leather. Fond memories came with the memory of the book itself, as it had begun her love for the literature that shaped her life, and perhaps even her own ideals, which was rather surprising as she looked back, now being an adult, despite the fact she was late in receiving the Reverie.
It had taken Arachne some time to find the tome, as there was no dedicated "children's" section, as very few children in the drow community had the ability to read. Only females, and a select few males were able to understand the written word, despite the fact that they could speak it. But she had found it in the section that some had called the, "Painfully Simplified," area of the library, which indicated that it was for children, as they were considered the most insufferable of the entire race, which seemed a bit unfair to her.
In almost joyful recollection, she allowed herself to take in the fresh leather smell, which always brought the drow a feeling of serenity, just as Cazna's parchment-scented sanctuary caused an overwhelming wave of happiness and a strange warmth within the bowels of Arachne's abdomen, which she was yet to understand.
She was so caught up in her old memories, she hadn't heard the door open to the library, so she practically jumped out of her robes when she heard her little brother's voice break her concentration. "Arachne? Are you okay?"
Closing the book with some accidental force, her ears tinted a bit pink from the vulnerable state she had been found in, she stopped herself from smiling, but to no avail, as a small smile adorned her face, hidden by the book still in front of her features. The poor boy should never need to remain subjected to what he would in his adulthood, which was perplexing enough to her, let alone those not in the know.
Arachne chuckled, brushing off the moment of surprise, "I'm quite alright, Durdyn. I just remember this book from when I was younger, and you know how much I cherish such things." She handed the book to her brother, who looked at it with wide, pure, purple eyes, most likely captivated by the feeling of a book in his hands, for this was the first time he was allowed to have such a thing, as children were not trusted with them.
"It's really..." Durdyn paused for a moment, contemplating a word to use, something he did quite often, which caused a blissful sensation of pride, as all his progress was because of her. She, Arachne, had witnessed his first words, steps, and expression of the innate magic that the drow possessed, to conjure both faerie fire and darkness. "pretty."
Arachne began to lead him towards the desk in the far back of the archives where they conducted their lessons, where she sat at one end of the table, and he the other, a decorative candle resting on it, that had yet to be lit due to the lack of interest by any wizard who spent time in the library. "Can you answer this for me?" She inquired, looking down at the stalk white haired tyke.
"I'll try!"
She chuckled again, almost like a mother svirfneblin would to her own children, taking a seat at her chair, Durdyn following suit. "What does this place hold that is so special to wizards and the few scribes in the Underdark?"
"Ummm..." He tapped his chin, looking at the book as if it would present him with some form of answer, which, unsurprisingly, it did not, "knowledge?"
Arachne nodded, "Correct! And they need to read to do that." She opened the book to the first page, where each letter and its sounds were listed in a square graph, small written notes in voluptuous handwriting was common amongst the graph itself. No doubt from Elarra herself. "So, due to the fact that you're the Secondboy of our esteemed House, you will learn how to read just as Xarann and," she was tempted to say Bemril for a moment, a lump forming in her throat, he reminded her so much of the original Elderboy, "Matron Aunerae."
Durdyn smiled, a wide grin extending from each side of his face adorning his dusky gray, soft cheeks, small dimples making themselves known. "And you, Arachne! Don't forget about yourself. You're more important than both of them."
Arachne stopped, as if a spear had been pierced through her heart, a sudden jerk of emotion rippling through her rather "sisterly" act. It took almost everything within her to keep her face poised and invulnerable to any other signs of emotions, as the blush she had shown earlier was only concealed by her hair, but otherwise it would have meant her head on a platter made of silver, to be presented to her mother. Instead of humoring him, as she wanted to, however,
Arachne instead looked down at her brother from the chair, a stern air about her before she spoke to her practically identical younger brother. "Remember, Durdyn, Matron Aunerae is of a higher status than me. But Lolth is more important than her." There was a small bit of triumph in saying those words, in understanding that her mother truly wasn't at the top of the very rigid social pyramid, but instead was set to fall at the bottom as everyone else did. But the same aspect could be turned around, as her unimportance would lead to both her family's and House's demise, or perhaps the unimportance of the Matron Coborial's to come. The frightening thing was, Arachne had always, and would remain to be expected to take that horrendous post.
Durdyn, at this harsh but gentle reminder, straightened his back while also looking at her more attentively, and wincing as he did so, seeing as, from what Arachne had heard the night before, he had quite the indiscreet discipline (otherwise known as torture) session. "Yes, Arachne." He paused, once again thinking of a proper word to describe his feelings. It had been something that she was quite proud to have taught him over the course of their short time together. "Where will we start with learning how to read?"
Opening to the first page of the rather thin leatherback book, Arachne took in a nostalgic glance at the character chart, which listed pronunciation attached to the letter. Taking a short, calm breath, she attempted to recall how Elarra had begun this lesson, but immediately flinched back as she did so, remembering the horrible things that had come with it.
It had been a dark room, not the library, but one made of stone just below the House, where even the drow, who could see in pitch blackness, had minor difficulties seeing through steam and the air of shallow depression. Arachne and Chadra's assigned tutor had preferred this spot to educate them, as she had hidden away what she liked to call her, "toys." These being sharp objects of varying uses, that she used whenever either of them got the answer incorrect; although, she wouldn't just use it on the offender, but on the other sister, to teach the lesson that when one fell, the rest would follow.
Arachne had once misspelled the name of the clock tower, Mystérieuse, and Elarra made her appearance with a sharp, and large knife, clicking it ominously on her metal bonded wrist. Slyly moving towards the, at the time, small girl, a smirk adorned her face as she ran the knife's blade against her cheek, small dots of blood spilling forth from the child's face. That being before she was tied to the ground using steel bindings, where the heiress was stripped of her clothes and hit mercilessly with a snake-headed whip, where then afterwards the drow elf was to have her fingernails ripped from their beds. All for the lack of an accent mark on the letter, "e," when the girl was five.
This recollection came and went, but Arachne had wished it had never came to begin with, as she had just found herself getting used to the scars left from that incident, as her nails had fully grown back about two years after the abuse, but her scars from both the whip and knife still remained, adding some color to her otherwise gray skin.
"We'll start with this letter," she pointed to the first letter on the graph, her lavender eyes tinted with the sheen of hurt, "do you know what sound it makes?"
Her brother tapped his chin once again, looking up for a moment before his matching set of eyes refocused on the letter Arachne had been pointing to. "Umm..." he looked at the chart before shaking his head.
"Alright!" Arachne clapped her hands together, indicating the start of a lengthy year, "let's start with pronunciation then, shall we?"