Arachne opened her eyes, to be confronted with a sound unlike anything she had ever heard that accompanied the gentle breeze that came without the bitter taste of sulfur she had become used to over the years, and only from years of salvation and learning from Cell Maccis had she learned to understand the noise, and she had yet to hear it. That was until she had no choice to hear its melody without Amalica by her side, something she thought to be a bit of irony, sorrowful, but ironic nonetheless, a reminder from the draconian hand she had been dealt since her birth.
However, she heard chirping that seemed to echo throughout the wood she found herself in, a beautiful chorale harmonized throughout every tree, and although unstructured, there was a beauty to the chaos, something she had come to expect from the land up above; it was her home now, after all, she would need to expect it. But the birds she heard sang without relent, their voices as clear as the dew against her skin as she lay against the grass, sharp and prickly as it was, and Arachne almost wanted to lean into their music, content to hear them until the world stopped.
She felt clawed feet land upon her arm, making its way further up until its pair of three pale crimson feet had balanced upon her chest, and, moving her head upwards, she saw a bird of a pure shade of scarlet, a puffy chest looking down at her with a triangle of black feathers lining across its face, its eyes and chin as the points, an orange-tinted beak gaped slightly open as it cocked her head at her. Hopping closer towards her, seeming to almost want to get a better look at the outsider that she was, it slightly nudged her with its beak as she breathed shallowly, feeling the natural inclination to let it be.
It chirped again, and alighting from the trees and gliding from vermillion wings, more of the same bird came drifting gently to the soft grass, and from what Arachne could see, there were easily ten or twelve of them, each one slowly making their way to her until she found herself surrounded by nature. To her, it felt as if they joined her in her sorrow, for they fell silent as the last one of their kin reached her side, and, for a brief moment, she felt safe with the smallest and most innocent things she had ever seen. Perhaps they were sent by Eilistraee as a sign of condolences, but all that mattered to her was the rush of warmth she felt being surrounded by something so beautiful in her world full of horrors.
And one by one, each bird left, following the first one, whose scarlet sheen rivaled that of the rest, until they disappeared into the leaves above her, no doubt protecting her from the sun. Arachne tried to turn her mind away from the burning pain that was inevitable, something that would draw every ounce of willpower from her so as to not screen from the foretold pain of the ball of yellow and orange would cause for those who found their home in the underground, but instead she focused on the imperfection around her, beautiful but imperfect all the same.
She felt the grass against her skin, a slight tingling from the abundant plant about her, an overwhelming smell of dew and sharp blades of emerald invading her senses, but despite its intense disposition, it felt as if it was meant to be. Arachne almost found herself like an outsider, a spot of colorless despondency amongst the vibrancy of the world around her, a gash into the flesh perfection. But how was she to know, for she knew nothing about where she was, save for the fact that she shouldn't dare show her face to any surfacer she encountered, for her kind would be slaughtered at first sight.
Perhaps that was how the Other Races had become used to in the streets of Abburth, knowing well that if they stepped out of line when a drow elf was near, that it would mean their ultimate demise. She was reminded of Black Powder and Kethan, what they had done for her and Cazna, and how they, despite being Houseless, and therefore dirt in the minds of the elite, went out of their way to aid those who were questioning the true authority of Lolth and Her ways. Arachne was free because of them, and for that she would be forever grateful; perhaps she could find him one day and bring him to the same salvation Eilistraee promised her, if she could ever find it, that is.
Arachne rose from the forest bed, her back slightly moist from the dew that had been underneath her, boots leaving imprints on the grass, which was a vibrant color of emerald. She had seen enough of grass during moonlit dances, but it was far more brown and almost compressed together by the frequent and vigorous dancing of those in Cell Maccis, and reminding herself of that was painful, so she instead focused on the new experiences that dawned upon her, readily anticipating the feeling of the sun against her skin, even if it was meant to cause her to be in a state of misery due to the fact that she wasn't used to its burning feeling. She longed to see it still, for she heard that the sunsets were something to be cherished, and it was something that those upon the surface seemed to take for granted.
Brushing her clothes off from rogue blades of grass, she began to walk through the mess of trees, which ranged from several different shades of the same color, each their own individual hue of brown, although they were connected by the likeness of their leaves. The sounds of birds singing was still evident despite the departure of the crimson species that she had been met with, the sound of some sort of insect screeching was also evident throughout the forest, even though Arachne could not place where, and to add to the foreign sounds about her, a gentle breeze blew against her face again, blowing her hair in and out of her face before it stopped.
Reaching the end of the forest path, evident by the sudden opening in the trees where light reflecting off of their leaves and the liquid gathered on them, and, using her dusky hands to open the remainder of the underbrush, Arachne was met with true sunlight for the first time, as well as a sudden and overwhelming feeling of her eyes burning under the exposure, an immediate ringing in her head still following, despite the beauty of what she had seen once during her time in the Reverie.
To Enyra, the sun was normal, and as such when Arachne lived through her body, her eyes did not sting, and nor did it feel as if she would rather die than face the sunlight again, and that was one of the only reasons that she proceeded despite the pain that she felt. Only because she knew that once she had gotten used to the feeling of her eyes burning from her sockets, that she could experience it every day just as the woman in her past life had, as a normality instead of something that would cause her pain, so she continued on.
She was reminded of Eilistraee's words, "When you wake up, you'll find yourself on the surface near a village."
Perhaps there she could find a place to rest, in secret, away from any surfacer that may wish her harm? To plot out her next move, for all she knew was that she would need to find herself a boat to sneak onto, which could range from simple to near impossible depending on the boat, which she had never once seen before, only had she read about them in stories in the Cell Maccis library. They were sea vehicles that shipped goods and brought people to a location, and for Arachne, her location was vague, for all she knew was that she was meant to go to the land of the Greenwald, and not where she was meant to go, but maybe that was for fate to decide, or luck, something she had quite a dance with over the years.
So on she tread with a burning feeling in her eyes as she walked into fate's cruel hands, finding any shade for her eyes if possible as she soon began to feel her skin to get hot, her arms tinted a strange shade of red as she continued her way down a beaten path. Arachne was hot, so much so that she had to roll up the sleeves of both her pants and shirt, and even still, beads of briny sweat collecting at her brows as she continued on. Her eyes hurt, a headache beginning to pound against the center of her forehead, and all for that she still saw images of the massacre flashing in her head.
Ristil being slashed across the chest by one of their attackers after watching Tris and Kal being burnt alive at the hands of a wizard none of them had been able to find, all the while those who had either been swept up by the furious mob or had been a part of the violent phenomena were being slaughtered as they ran. Whenever Arachne closed her eyes, she saw these things, and if the tears falling down her face at the hands of the sun was enough, to visualize these terrors was something that she wanted so badly to stop.
And then there was Amalica, whose body was lying in the cave they had fallen into at the hands of the same wizard that had taken both Tris and Kal's lives, as well as the other children and their families. The blood smattered on her perfect face would forever remain until she decomposed, and even then the soulless husk that remained would never be her, not as it had been in her last moments; she was with Eilistraee now, and Arachne had no choice but to be happy for her.
Arachne walked upon the grass for her, even if Amalica was not with her, for her last wish was not for anyone else, only her, and for that she wanted to make it worth it. Perhaps she was in the stars, watching over her with Ristil, Tris, Kal, and all the others lost with gentle smiles on their faces as they danced with the rest of those who had died in the arms of Eilistraee. But she corrected herself, remembering quite clearly that no elven soul rested long in the afterlife, instead being sent to the heart of any child meant to be born, and when that babe turned twenty five, they would live the memories of their past.
Arachne ceased all movement the moment she saw a house off to the side of the road that she had been loosely trailing, the inaccuracy only being due to the state of her sight, so much so that she had to conjure the staff that Cazna had left to her, and as she leaned on the bone white surface she examined the home and what was around it, as to her it was very strange. Even so, she could barely see against the force of the sun.
It was large, and seemed to have multiple sections to it, a gigantic double-door painted stalk white at the center of the front, with several other smaller doors on other rectangular offshoots still connected to the otherwise square-shaped home. All around it, there was a plethora of flora Arachne had never heard of or seen before, the plant in front of the house was tall and was a pale brown color, their stems very thin as they waved against the light breeze, while nearing the top several leaves the same color as the stems that had their own small branches, and that pattern ended at the very top of the plant itself.
On the right hand side there were even taller plants that were a deep shade of green that seemed to get lighter in color the higher they went up, and at the top it became thicker, making fat and straightened oval. While on the left side of the house, there were smaller plants that appeared almost bush-like in nature that had tufts of fluffy white upon their own branches, akin to the clouds in appearance.
Arachne rushed herself towards the field of the deep green plants, hoping to seek shelter from the sun for the remainder of the day until the night fell, and when she reached it, the same smell of moist grass that she had been met with upon awakening overwhelmed her sense once more, with a different underlying scent that she could not put a name to. However, due to its recurring familiarity, Arachne felt slightly comforted by it, and as such, she took a moment to further admire what she saw in the land of the surface, which was foreign to her, and now that her eyes no longer faced the sun due to the canopy like nature of the gigantic plants she could do as such.
Most things of nature she knew, or at least in the specific location that she had been left in, which she knew to be the forest surrounding the site where Cell Maccis once did their moonlit dances, and on some nights, Arachne and Amalica explored a bit of the vast plains littered with trees and animals. They never strayed far, but they knew enough about their surroundings that they could understand the landscape.
But for once, Arachne found herself enjoying the silence. As a girl, she feared it, for it meant that something was amiss, for if there wasn't a scream in the air or the sound of turning grates or stomping feet or chanting, it meant death would ensue for many. Even in her time in salvation she felt it unnatural, as there was always laughter, song, or some form of chime in the background playing from the neighbor's door hanger, and while she found it unsettling at times, it was the norm.
However, for one of the first times in her life it had just been her, the breeze, and the plants around her; for once it felt as if her life had met in a center part, the eye of the storm as some would say. Arachne seemed to feel every thought that had been scattered about her brain for as long as she had been conscious, flowing away as she again felt her eyes become heavy.
And for that moment she decided that she would pray for her dance with luck to be as skillful as she had managed it thus far in her journey, and she would awake once more to continue on with the sun behind her and the moon above.