Durdyn had begun reading in the time it would take for a Duergar to become proficient in the art of theft, which was surprising, as it was an innate ability that the race of dark dwarves possessed, so in that instance, it seemed as if Arachne's younger brother had been born reading, as most Duergar were born purloining other's things. It was quite the disturbing sight, although she couldn't help but feel it was her who caused this ability to come to the surface of the sickly green acid pits lying in and about the Underdark itself.
As such, the typical fear of dreaming, the fear of the recreation of both Bemril and Kethan's passings, had been diminished with dreams of Durdyn, the lovely little Coborial. These dreams were quite nice, as she would cherish them until she was forced to enter the Reverie when the ability came to her, as she was at the age, twenty five, where some would begin their journey into becoming a full-fledged member of the drow community, if the other social (and otherwise informal) restrictions were met. The Reverie would be Arachne's last step before her ascension to glory, which many of her anticipated peers would not be able to meet.
Likewise, her sister had been unable to complete such a challenge, as slaying a monster was one of the more dangerous of these requirements, let alone the Nine Tests of honor she would go through during her priesthood. There had been a rumor that Matron Aunerae was awaiting her ninth, the most lethal challenge of them all. To fight Lolth, and win. Arachne feared for the day.
That night was when Arachne would present her reports to Matron Aunerae of Durdyn's success, and she was quite emphatic to do so, as she had taken an illegal look over Xarann's files, and the little boy had surpassed him in every subject but Underdark history, which he was still learning.
She came marching up to the meeting hall, a thin, soft black leather book cradled in her arms, pressed against her chest and long silky black and red robes, a headdress adorning her head with voluptuous adamantine. Her boots clicked against the stone floor at a rhythmic pace, a small tune forming in her head as the tapping continued, whilst each slave in the halls bowed their heads to her, fearing her untouched snake-headed whip, for all knew she had never used it, but had somehow killed one from across a table. In all of the earnest truth she could offer, Arachne herself was unsure what had caused the phenomena, but she was proud that she saved an indentured servant's life. For this reason, some slaves saw her as a hero, while others still hated her, as she hated herself.
Knocking on the small wooden door, Xarann opened the door for her, allowing Arachne to make eye contact with her mother for the first time in five years, her chin held up high and proud, her hair a tad bit longer, and her confidence increased tenfold. For one onlooker unsure of the power dynamics between the two, it would seem as if she, herself, had the upper hand in this confrontation. When, in truth, this report would decide if Durdyn would live or not.
Matron Aunerae sat on an identical throne to the one in the main chamber of the House, Xarann standing at her side as K'yornl typically did when Bemril had been away on expeditions, which was frequent, when he had been Elderboy. That was the extent of Arachne's recollection with the room, as the last time she had been in the room was five years ago during what had begun to be known as the Time of Troubles, when all of the Gods turned mortal.
"Speak, daughter," the Matron demanded, leaning her head against her right fist, which was supported by a velvet cushion on the armrests of the throne. "For I have little patience for all you must speak about your new brother. The one of which I assigned you five years ago since the horrid thing had no need to latch onto my breasts like a mindflayer would with its prey's brain." Her specification would have been needed for any other drow but herself, as she truly cared about what she was teaching, and especially _who_ she was teaching. Her analogy, though, was quite morbid, as a mindflayer would use its tentacle like fingers to go through one's brain to eat it.
Arachne forced herself to chuckle, understanding the jeopardy if she did not. "You have quite the accurate analogy, Matron Aunerae!" She lied. Right through her teeth. "What I have found is that the male in question responds to orders with quite proficiency, most likely from his daily disciplines, and our lessons in the library. He would follow your orders without question in the heat of battle, Matron." She took a breath, attempting to not wash her mouth out with acid for describing her naïve brother in that sense, as he was only a child. "However, he does have an element of individual thinking, and, from my understanding and observations, he makes the proper choices quite quickly."
"And of his speaking clarity? We can't afford an incompetent Secondboy, no?"
Arachne cleared her throat, the gradually growing lump in her throat threatening her fortitude, which was required for this reaction. "He speaks quite well, and his vocabulary is immaculate. He speaks as you and I do, despite being just a boy." Seeing her mother gearing up to speak once more, no doubt to inquire about his strength evaluation, she opened her mouth again, to earn a nod of approval from the Matron. "The male has also passed physique checks and tests, as I hear that K'yornl has him working on his speed and skill with a sword. Such things are quite helpful, as he will leave the House for Slaekmia at the age of twenty, with fifteen years more of experience to better the title of the House."
Matron Aunerae nodded, an intimidating glint in her eyes as she did so, black lips rising into a small smirk before leaning back into her throne of metal. "So, he will be the perfect replacement for the martyr. Perhaps he will aspire to more, as it seems as if you have done quite well for yourself, Arachne." She intertwined her fingers together, the smirk still remaining on her face, a feverish chill making itself known as it crawled up her spine as Arachne's eyes stared into the carmine ones belonging to her mother.
Knowing the proper mannerisms for such a compliment, albeit quite strange for the rather forceful community, was to simply state that you knew, which was the only time that one would be allowed to say such a thing to a Matron Mother. So, Arachne merely stated: "I know, Matron Aunerae." before awaiting her dismissal.
"Lolth's blessings be upon you, daughter." Matron Aunerae stated wryly, almost as if she was withholding boredom, waving her off, "As with you _male_." This was a gesture towards Xarann as well, who bowed his head in respect before walking away at Arachne's side, his arms folded behind his back, further making him appear as if he was professional, as he was, more so in his black button up coat, a side cape protruding from the pad in his right shoulder.
The two walked out of the room with some speed, as Matron Aunerae's patience was not something she was well known for, if she had any at all. All of her most renowned massacres came from impatience, as she had demanded that a certain group of svirfneblin leave Abburth's streets, and yet had not waited the three days she had promised them before eradicating every single Deep Gnome in the group before the start of the second day. Such things had become normalized, as the Spider Queen was a chaotic Goddess, and therefore her followers were the same, if not shockingly similar.
In her own defense, however, it was early during her time as a Matron Mother, and, despite being the First Matron Mother of the city, the young drow elf had to prove herself in some way. It was the same during the time in which the House had lost favor one hundred years ago, which Arachne now knew the reason for, only to be ended by a mass murder of the Bugbears and Duergar of the city, where the population of all three races met with Matron Aunerae's wrath were only dwindling back due to the fear of the woman. The Coborial House was on everyone's tongues almost at all times.
As brother and sister walked, Xarann opened his mouth to speak, one of the first times Arachne had ever heard him do such a thing due to his rather reserved nature, dedicated to magic and study. In that way, the two siblings were the same. Although, for some strange reason he spoke in the language native to mindflayers and the like, as the two were the only ones in the House with the capability to speak a language such as deep speech, as it was quite the challenge to learn. It was something the both had done in their free time.
"I have come to hear that you have accomplished some unique things when song reaches you. Why do you think that is, sister?" He stated, looking at her with indifferent crimson eyes, as he looked at everyone in that sense. Although a feeling of pride shot through his irises like an arrow of fire being thrown from the home of its ballista, but only for a moment before they returned to their undisturbed state.
There was a moment of silence, where Arachne continued her walk with her brother, contemplating her next move, knowing that one wrong step would cause her end. She hadn't quite cared about the strange occurrence, as she had always found peace and rejuvenation in song, even the horrible sounds drow bards made that the society classified as "classic music." As many times in her life, curiosity did outweigh the other possible reasons to which she would say no, and it was almost foolish how she was planning her next move, and she recognized this, but for some reason she did not care, despite the threat of blackmail.
Arachne huffed in amusement, knowing quite well her brother had control, and planned to flip it around for her own comfort, "You speak as if you know, brother." she mocked, noting that they were beginning to make their way towards the library, a place both associated with safety. So, perhaps there was no malicious intent in what Xarann was trying to tell her, but perhaps a gesture, however discreet as it was, that he was on her side, whatever side she was on, as it was all clouded by a shroud of true darkness, the first she experienced in the sack Bemril had her in.
"Why, in fact, I do. But what will I get in return? 'Safety' isn't enough, mind you. I have taken care of myself centuries longer than you, Arachne." Xarann remarked, making it well known that, despite his aloof disposition, he was just as dangerous as any of her siblings. It now made more sense that Chadra had called him a, 'sly asshole.' The mage knew how to haggle.
She chuckled, a small smile ghosting over her features for but a moment, before she continued speaking in the language of deep speech. "Well, I can give you information. I know, as a wizard, you quite care about such things. Perhaps about..." Arachne tapped her chin, knowing very well, from Cazna's journals, that she and Xarann were relatively close, probably as close as she and Durdyn were. So, she believed she could use her knowledge. "Perhaps about our eldest sister's fate. That Houseless told me what happened to her." She resisted the urge to wince at not using Kethan's name, or even his title, she owed him that much.
The face that appeared for but a moment upon Xarann's features was one to cherish to most other drow, as it was as if he was stabbed by a spearhead, and was surprised by the occurrence. There Arachne knew she had ensured her safety, and instead had him in a trap, that she didn't quite care to have her brother captured in, but would have to if she could even fathom living to the age of one hundred. She had made one to many risks in her life, and would have to begin to use her way with words to ensure her breath. "Very well, then. Spin your tale, _bard_."
This was Arachne's time to connect ties, realizing that her disregard to what Kethan had called her in his crazed state, was truthfully an act of buffoonery on her part. The music that came to her, perhaps it was simply an act of the bardic ability that she was given, however strange it was, as there was no bardic blood in the family to muddle her own. So, perhaps Xarann was wrong?
Deep down, Arachne knew, this was not true.
"Matron Aunerae killed her after she showed tendencies of blasphemy, in the streets after she attempted to escape, with the use of her favorite demon, that Sibiriex she calls Diablo." The siblings shuddered at the mention of the flesh-bound creature, that was older than all of them, including their mother, and had killed Matron Nathrae II and her daughters three centuries ago, and had been with Matron Aunerae since then, her own attack dog held within her fingers. Some even said that she had prepared its own part of the Pocket Realm for the creature to keep it.
Xarann nodded, "I see. I suppose no one could have expected less, it is quite clear that she deserved it." He paused for a moment before they reached the door of the library itself, the wizard's voice whispering its last words in Arachne's ear as he moved to walk in, "And as for you, bard, I can ensure you will have many stories to tell."