Book 2 – Epilogue – Family Squabble

“Martena, it’s been awhile,” Fatima purred as she sauntered into the small room, her black silk dress fluttering as if caught in a breeze. The private dining room would have been considered lavish by some, with numerous tapestries and several exquisite paintings hung around the room, but to her it was just a shabby little hole. She and her other sisters had taken anything with any true value from Martena over the years; After all, Might made right in the Abyss, and Arachne society in general, and to the winner went the spoils.

As her abdomen cleared the black and red silk curtain that acted as a door her small entourage moved to follow. She casually flicked her hand at them, causing them to back out of the small room.

“I was beginning to think you’d never come out of your room after being humiliated by Narhas,” Fatima said.

Her sister looked up from her meal and gave her a strained smile. “I haven’t been hiding, I’ve been studying,” Martena hissed. “I don’t want to just defeat Narhas when I challenge her for my spot, I want to humiliate her.”

Fatima smirked. “It won’t be that easy I’m afraid, you’ll have to defeat Verena before you’ll get another shot at her.”

“What!?!?!?!?” Martena yelled, jumping to her feet. “You have to be joking me!”

“I’m afraid not, while you were sequestered in your room our precious younger sister decided to prove herself and climb even further,” Fatima replied. “She’s now ranked fifth.”

“If that’s the case, I’ll just have to defeat Verena and follow her up,” Martena declared. Despite the resolve that she managed to pack into that declaration, she shifted uncomfortably, her arachnid legs clacking on the hard tile floor as she did. After a few seconds she took a deep breath in, steadied her legs, and turned back towards Fatima, eyes narrowed. “Why are you here? If you wanted to embarrass me, or make fun of me because I dropped to rank seven you wouldn’t have dismissed your entourage. What do you want?”

“What makes you think I want anything?” Fatima asked innocently.

“Becuase no one in this family does anything out of the good of their own hearts. It’s all about gaining an incremental advantage over each other until we can climb the ranks,” Martena growled. “So let me ask again, what do you want?”

Fatima sighed, her easy smirk and superior attitude falling away as she stood up straight looking her sister in the eyes. “It seems that when you lost your rank you also lost your sense of humor. Fine. You want to know why I’m here? It’s because I want to make a deal,” she said. “Narhas has been struggling to climb out of seventh place for years, and whenever she managed to climb out she was swiftly knocked back into her proper place. I want to know what changed, and why,” she said. “I can’t be seen asking around about it, but no-one would bat an eyelash at you, who just got knocked out of position, trying to find out what changed.”

“So you came all this way, and humbled yourself in front of me, just so you wouldn’t lose face in front of the rest of our siblings. Figures,” Martena snorted. “What I don’t get is why you care. There’s no way that Narhas’ rise has any effect on you. Unless…”

“Unless Demiana felt inspired and decided to get in on the fun?” Fatima growled. “Yes, a lot has happened since you threw your hissyfit and locked yourself in your room. I want to know what Narhas changed, and why, before I get humiliated.”

“Like I was,” Martena asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Narhas has defeated you plenty of times over the years,” Fatima declared dismissively. “And whenever she managed to claw her way up to sixth, no one expected her to stay long; We all knew that you’d regain your position before too long. When Verena was defeated, however, she was mocked mercilessly for it. I have no intention of becoming a laughing stock like her.”

“And why should I help you?” Martena asked, slowly lowering her abdomen onto the pile of pillows sprawled out beneath her and smirked. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you get knocked down a peg or two myself.”

Fatima just stared down at her younger sister in silence, and as she did tendrils of violet flame started to emerge from the shadows around the room. Martena yelped and jumped up as several of the magical limbs emerged from beneath the table and slowly reached out for her.

“I was trying to be nice,” Fatima growled, but it seems like you need to be taught a lesson about respecting your betters.

“Go ahead,” Martena snarled, extending her arms. Crimson lightning erupted from her fingertips and jumped towards the closest tendrils, driving them back. “See if I ever help you again!”

The two stared at each other silently for several seconds, their magics interlocked, slowly scorching the surrounding area. Finally, Fatima stepped back and swept her hand in a long arc. “Enough! I didn’t come here to fight,” she declared.

“You could have fooled me,” Martena declared. She crept to the right, moving to put the table between herself and her sister, lightning still dancing at her fingertips. “You should leave. Nothing you can say will make me help you.”

“Oh really? What if I promised to return your prized grimore, the one that Demiana took from you?” Fatima asked. “Would that change your mind?”

Martenapaused. Her hands lowered, slightly but the lightning didn’t cease. “Don’t promise something you can’t deliver on,” she muttered. “Demiana would never give that book up.”

“Oh she didn’t want to give it up, not willingly anyways,” Fatima replied. “That’s why I had to take it in our last fight. If you want it back, all you have to do is tell me Narhas secret.”

Martena silently studied her sister for several seconds before finally dropping her hands and dismissing the lightning. “Fine. I’ll do what I can, you better make good on your side of the deal,” she said wairily.

“That’s the spirit. I knew you could be reasonable,” Fatima replied, flashing her sister a toothy smile. “Send me a message once you find her secret, and I’ll send some to deliver your precious book to you. Deal?”

“Fine,” Martena grunted. “Now get out. I want to finish my meal in peace.”

Fatima turned towards the door, abdomen proudly raised. “Very well. We’ll talk soon,” she declared before sauntering out of the room.

Martena waited quietly, waiting until the suffling feet of Fatima’s entourage disappeared from underneath the curtain before finally relaxing. “Tell you her secret? Yeah right,” she sneered quietly before returning to the head of the table. As she sunk down onto the pillows she smiled. “Do you seriously believe I’m stupid enough to trust you? Even if you thought to steal that grimoire from Demiana in your previous match, she would have taken it right back in the latest one.”

As she picked up her cutlery she frowned at the jagged burn mark down the side of the knife. “Whatever you don’t want to take, you damage or destroy, just like usual,” she grumbled, throwing the ruined knife aside.

“I cannot wait to see the look on your face when Narhas finally puts you in your place,” she chuckled. “Narhas was so used to being laughed at, that she had no problem telling people why she changed her training regiment. You all just ignored her like usual. Oh, I can just imagine your expression when she tells you that Talia was behind your defeat.”

She reached under the table and pulled her tablet out of the hidden compartment. Flicking through the apps she brought up the news. The Wailing Manor had narrowly defeated the Black Sanctum, making them the only other dungeon in the league to go 2-0.

While many of the larger papers were praising Talia’s planning, the local propaganda was slandering her. Unsurprisingly the Haerine Hearld’s headline read ‘The Manor succeeds despite the failure’s participation.’ It was unoriginal, and heavy handed. Probably Demiana’s work.

She sighed and shook her head. She’d called Talia a weak fool when she left, but looking back that had been a mistake. It turned out she was the only one strong enough to walk away from their toxic family.

Many commentators were already predicting that the next match would be The Manor versus The Abyss and if that came to pass, she’d have to face her youngest sister once again.

“Let’s see which one of us was correct,” she whispered, flipping to a picture of Talia. “See you soon.”