On the subject of her nightmare, Arachne had not been able to sleep properly afterwards, in fact, she hadn't slept at all in the past three days, for each time she was about to drift off into her slumber, it was almost as if she had been shot by the drow elf's crossbow bolt each time she was about to forget about the eerie dream. It felt as real as anything else she had experienced, for she truly felt her arms and legs as she would in a typical dream, and had she not woken after the bolt pierced her, there was no doubt that she would still think that very same thing.
She attempted to keep herself grounded, though, despite the very clear fact that she would lay awake at night, thinking of the ways she could possibly close her eyes and enter into unconsciousness, but it seemed as if the thought itself made it even more difficult. Instead, she began to read with only her darkvision to aid her, for one strange thing about the Dawn Guard was of their obsession with using firelight despite the fact that as drow elves, and the single elf that lived with them, they possessed the ability to see in the dark as well as an able-minded cat could, and as such there was no need for candlelight of any sort to be present at all. However, the red glow was almost comforting, so Arachne had no complaints.
Amalica slept beside her, trusting that at some point she would join her in dreaming, and to give her piece of mind, Arachne lied to her, saying that she had slept, although in truth, she had finished a book that she had borrowed from the library, and had returned it the morning after without her love's knowledge, for she had seen the sizes of the tomes that she brought home, and would spot a finished one immediately, due to the fact that no bookmark would be placed in them, or for the fact that they would have shown signs of recently being picked up and read, for the account of the page's positioning. The bard had eyes as sharp as tusks, and as such she could notice anything, especially when it came to their relationship.
It made some things difficult, for instance, planning surprises for anniversary or birthday gifts, but it kept Arachne on her toes, which was something she didn't have to do quite often anymore, for she lived in a community that took pride in their simplicity and peace, and as such, some people saw Amalica as a disturbance, although they were few in number. It was hard to not love her for all she was, for she had a heart of gold that would never change; it could stand against the true tides of evil and remain vigilant and kind, helping those in need. Arachne wished to be like this, although in most cases, she was still in a self-sustaining mindset, and despite her efforts to change, it was a slow process that Amalica had practiced for years.
In that fashion however, Arachne had planned to see Mother Maccis on the subject of her dream, for it felt as real as when she had interacted with the Lady of Dance, if such things could ever be possible, for nothing could become as material as an interaction with a Goddess of much beauty, poise, and empathy. But something about the dream had sent her into a state of panic, and while many of her other nightmares had been disturbing to her, such as the one that repeated Bemril's passing, none had left her as disquieted as it had been to her.
Arachne had initially planned to go and conversate with Mother Maccis after their church service, but she had to quickly remind herself that the time afterwards was of rejuvenation and relaxation for the priests, as they were quite open about the stress preparing the ceremonies was, for they only expected perfection for their Goddess, although she was quite forgiving about such things, they all aspired for perfection. She remembered Tris's lessons about empathy and how beneficial they had been for her and those around her, and as such she decided to withdraw from her inchoate idea.
For one thing she knew about Mother Maccis, and that was very little in the scheme of things, was that she enjoyed her quiet time and schedules, and she would do anything to preserve that order. It was something strange for a woman who followed a rather chaotic Goddess, but it was a thought that most people accepted, and even enjoyed, as the order beside the chaotic religious order of which they followed set them even further apart from the rest of the Dawn Guard, and individuality was something valued in their world. Arachne even heard that it was something celebrated in the surface world.
There was a part of her that longed to see the surface still, but not for the souls lost, but for herself. The dances in the moonlight were enough for some, but she found herself wanting more than what she had been given, for she wanted to see the sun and experience the feeling of rain, as the cell didn't go out if the water spilled from the sky in fear of damaging the instruments. But all Arachne wanted was to feel the elements interact, and she recalled that she had once been called caper for such ideology, for she would be leaving sanctuary.
And while she appreciated the home that she had found and had been accepted into, Arachne yearned for more. Perhaps her dream was telling her something of which she needed to understand of herself, a message from her consciousness to inform her that she needed some kind of change, but she didn't know what change that could be. She was also hoping that Mother Maccis could offer insight into that part of her life, as her word was a gateway to Eilistraee's true teachings, for she had prayed and prayed for the answers she needed, and perhaps she would need to rely on one of the Lady of Dance's messengers to offer her aid.
As such, Arachne had made an appointment with the ladies in the Church, specifically avoiding going in when Amalica was on her own shift so as to not worry her, for, as she was able to figure out, she was quite the nosy woman, and the women who worked with her were kind enough to keep their mouths shut. There were rumors swirling around that they secretly gave each other updates on the two's relationship, and as such they knew almost everything about the two of them. It was endearingly creepy.
When she entered the temple, though, it was strangely crowded, an assortment of faces kneeling down to certain statues scattered about the interior, the pews cleared for convenience of worship, a harp in the very back behind the altar unmanned but still playing a beautiful tune, Amalica typically being at the seat of the harp itself during services. It was hard for Arachne to not visualize the bard sitting down with her hands lazily but majestically laid upon the harp strings, playing with unmistakable ease.
But that was for another time, as Arachne walked down the center of the cyclopean temple, preparing herself for her conversation with Mother Maccis, who, despite her kind demeanor, was frightening, as she had a horrible gash upon her face that cut across her cheek that allowed her to finally give into the Dawn Guard's wishes of her becoming a Mother. It was quite intimidating, and to those who knew little of her, they would tremble in fear, akin to how a slave would do so to any Matron Mother, only to be welcomed by her calming voice.
Pressing her knuckles against the door in the back that acted as their wall of privacy, Arachne took a deep breath, adjusting her light cardigan lightly around her upper body in a fleeting attempt to look better for Mother Maccis, although she knew that it was not needed, as she had seen almost everyone in the cell at their worst, and as such, she was usd to such things. And when she heard her soft and ataractic voice from the other side bidding her to enter the room, she knew that she was certain that her choice was correct.
Opening the door sheepishly, Arachne smiled weakly, "Greetings, Mother," she bade, clear anxiety seeping through her irises that were her worst nemesis in almost every scenario, although she thought herself fortunate, for Mother Maccis was leant over her desk, pouring over a tome that held the sigil of the church of Eilistraee. "I have an appointment. I hate to intrude."
Mother Maccis turned her chair around, aged and soft red eyes looking back at her with a warm and large smile on her face as she gestured for Arachne to sit, the rise in her lips almost immediately soothing her just a little more than she had anticipated, not paying much mind to the woman's scar. "Come in, child. You aren't a bother at all." She stood up from her desk chair and onto a separate armchair that was across from a plush couch of which she had gestured for the young drow elf to sit upon, to which she obliged. "You forget that I am not a matriarch that would bring you pain; I implore you to be vulnerable in this room. You will only be heard by both our Lady and me when you are in my care."
The drow elf shrugged, her awkward and somewhat nervous smile still remaining, raising her face only slightly instead of that of what a true smile would do, and Mother Maccis knew this, as she opened her body posture as if to showcase safety, something Arachne was quite grateful for. "Thank you, Mother." she looked down at her own hands, intertwined and slightly perspired, "It's been easier adjusting here than I thought it would be, but I guess I'm still getting used to life here."
The gentle priestess leaned in, her elbows supporting the rest of her body as they rested against her knees, which were hidden by a decorative and symbolic priest's robe made with silver silk, "But that's not why you're here, Arachne, now is it?" It was almost as if her eyes changed to impenetrable balls of fire, but not the kind that one would be afraid of burning themselves with, but the kind that would… cure you? But those flames seeped their way into her own eyes, sending a shiver down her spine that was quite uncommon for Mother Maccis to generate. Was this why people feared her?
Arachne, despite her unease, shook her head, looking down at her hands again before looking upwards once more, "No. It's not." She scratched the back of her neck before intertwining her fingers once more, doing anything to avoid looking into the eyes of the woman across from her. "I had a nightmare three nights ago, but I haven't been able to shake it off, I've always been able to do that with all of my other ones. I-I've been trying to hide it from Amalica so as to not worry her, but I'm worrying myself now. I don't know what to do." She brought herself to look into the flames again.
And those flames narrowed, as did Mother Maccis's eyes as she leant back into her chair calmly, crossing her leg over the other as her fingers intertwined with each other as well, her elbows supporting her arm as her hands hovered over her chin, "Tell me about this nightmare. What did you see?"
Arachne inhaled sharply, the sudden flash of the blood spat from the small man's eyes appearing in front of her eyes before she turned away from the eyes the same color as his own scarlet blood, instead opting to look down. "I was on a patrol on the road near Ithilaughym, and this small man–smaller than a halfling– ran into me, and I had thought he was attacking me, so my rapier was at his throat, and… and he asked to speak to you." She saw Mother Maccis's eyes raise in curiosity, "All of a sudden there was a crossbow bolt in his eye, and I jumped behind a rock to avoid an attack. And then I saw a drow man, and he shot me." She looked up again, breathing shakily at the memory, although she knew not why.
Mother Maccis paused for a moment, silence accumulating as she was absorbed into her thoughts, looking down at her hands that were parallel with her chin, and when she finally spoke, it was the uncertainty in her voice that set Arachne off. "Have you had dreams, or maybe even nightmares, like that before? Any communication with ethereal beings?"
She paused, realizing that her choice to keep her communication with Eilistraee in the Underdark may have been connected to what she was seeing now, but she had not a clue how they would be connected. Arachne figured that her dream was either a message from her inner consciousness or some form of warning from the Lady of Dance, but she didn't want to make any assumptions, and with the confirmation of Mother Maccis she felt almost certain that whatever she had seen not too long ago heralded that something was afoot, and that something was bound to go awry. Perhaps she would truly need to tell the woman that she was so very clearly adamant of not informing about her conversation with the Goddess so as to understand the true message that was being sent to her?
And as such, Arachne looked up and stared into the eyes of fire in front of her with certainty in her voice, which was attempting to not quiver as much as it was bound to, "Yes. In the Underdark after I escaped Abburth." She bowed her head in reverence, "I was bound to starve to death, and as I fell unconscious, I woke with Eilistraee at my side. It was Her that brought me to Cell Maccis."
To this, Arachne was met with a woman who was grasping onto the last threads of composure that was comprehensible to her; she was met with a woman who wanted to berate her with inquiries about the Goddess she had never seen but had wished to. "You saw Eilistraee? Was she truly as stunning as the legends say? Did she sing?" These questions were almost automatic before Mother Maccis physically pushed herself further back into her chair as she sighed, shaking her head, her face returning to its unshakeable state. "Your nightmare had to have been some form of vision from Her, Arachne. We will need to make preparations." She took a deep breath, "Did you need anything else?"
"Not that I'm aware of, Mother. Not unless you wish to give me any more insight into my life." Arachne replied humbly, watching as the fire died down within the vermillion eyes of the head priestess of the temple, her anxiety waning significantly.
She smiled, opening her mouth to give Arachne her last word of advice for the day, something that she would go home thinking about for the remainder of the night with a jump in her step she had never knew before, as well as causing her to wake early in the morning to begin preparations for putting to action what she had been told.
And Gods, was she excited.