Author's Note

This chapter underwent a few rewrites, much to my frustration. As such, I forgot to keep my editor in the loop, to whom I deeply apologize for the lack of communication. It's been a hectic week as I sold my house and had one of the most stressful moments I can remember in a long time. As such, I more or less lost focus on certain things.

I think this flows a bit better than what had been written before.

As it is, the chapter remains unedited as I wish to keep with the promise of having a new chapter each Saturday at the latest.

4/6/19 Update: this story was edited and re-uploaded several hours after initial posting.

6. Is This How You Make an Impression?

Edited by tuxOKC

With the afternoon sun shining through a blue sky, the village had seen her this time. There was more curiosity than fear in the ponies that spilled out of buildings and followed the guards and their guest. Imagine a herd of horses wearing various articles of clothing following a (beautiful) spider monster being escorted by nervous armed and armored ponies. The scene had Rachnera smiling to herself while she avoided making lingering eye contact with them. Pony children darted around the group, running back to the adults, gaping at Rachnera. They were braver than their elders, making adorable little foal noises as they chattered with each other in excitement. The guards had a harrowing time fending them off as they wanted to take a closer look at the Arachne.

Winter Shimmer was exasperated and shouted out orders in her horse voice.

The Arachne found the little pony children to be just as adorable as Random. There were about a dozen of them or so. Their parents swooped in and herded them off, scolding their inquisitive foals. Fearful ponies looked at Rachnera.

Her smile died and she sighed. No change, no surprise there.

Once again, Rachnera found herself in the inn. The common room had a raised ceiling, much like the barn, with the rafters sporting tables for pegasi and other flying denizens of the land. There were two winged guards up there now, eyeing the liminal with caution. The room was half the size of the one in the town hall and smelled less like a barn and more like a proper inn. The wooden floor was swept and the worn furniture was dusted and clean. There was a massive hearth at one end of the room with a bed of coals being fed wood by the same wary minotaur cow from last night. To the left was a bar with shelves of bottles arranged in neat rows behind it. There were six round tables, each with four stools arranged in the room. Half the length of the floor was raised a step approaching from the entrance with wooden rails separating the two sections.

Along the walls were photographs (This caught Rachnera momentarily by surprise, considering the medieval feel of the village. Then she remembered the light bulb in her cell, which still left her no less perplexed.) of scenes with a certain black minotaur posing next to slain monsters. Most images were of just Lucifer with his monster, but there were a few with other hunters who might have shared in the hunt. A part of the liminal wondered why there weren’t any mounted heads adding to the decor, but she had to take solace in some of the tools of the minotaur’s former trade that were hung with pride instead.

So, the tavern felt welcoming. She could appreciate the armory mounted on the wall, the wooden beam supports, and the plastered walls. It gave the room a cozy and welcoming feel, far more so than the barn. There were stairs with no rails on both sides leading up to the second floor. Rachnera could only assume the rooms were upstairs on either side of the common room.

Lucifer entered the room, still clad in chainmail. The huge minotaur seemed not as bloodthirsty or destructive as their first meeting, but he glared at the Arachne with contempt. In one fist he carried a flagon made from a horn of an unknown beast. He stood behind the bar, leaning heavily on it as he drank.

The cow finished tending the fire and went around the counter. The couple spoke to each other in hushed tones, her hand touching Lucifer on the arm. She was half his size but still larger than Rachnera. A bovine smile came from the cow to the liminal. The Arachne smiled back. It never hurt to be polite and the inn did belong to the minotaurs.

“Thank you for letting me into your home,” Rachnera told them, giving a small bow of appreciation. She was trembling and had been since first laying eyes upon the massive beast man.

Lucifer grunted. The girl minotaur smiled and bobbed her head.

Winter Shimmer had already taken a table and was waiting for the Arachne. Another table. Tabletop diplomacy? Rachnera supposed it was preferable to running around in the woods and accomplishing nothing in the process. Sitting at a table meant civility was happening and violence was not the preferred method of dealing with things. As of yet, Rachnera did not think she had done anything to erode the trust of the unicorn. Capturing the dogs might have even lifted her standing in the eyes of Random’s mother.

Waiting for Winter was a very large unicorn stallion. He had a gray coat and sported a cropped, lighter gray mane with a pair of white streaks. A pony face worn and haggard regarded Rachnera with curious blue eyes. Random had inherited those eyes. He was armored like the mare, his helmet the same as hers. It rested on the table.

With him was another unicorn, a mare. She seemed familiar. This one was unarmored and sporting a powder blue coat and golden mane. She wore nothing more than a shawl. A pair of glasses rested on her muzzle. It was the doctor from before. The curiosity she had for Rachnera had no indication of fear.

Winter went up to him with a smile. He returned the smile and nuzzled her cheek. They spoke to each other in whispers, sharing looks and glancing at Rachnera. The stallion then turned to the blue mare and whickered. She moved to the table, her horn glowing. A book appeared from thin air and floated in front of her. Rachnera could hear the sound of pages turning behind the droning horse sounds she made. Snapping the book shut, the unicorn looked at the liminal with a studious eye, ending her horsey lecture with a nod.

A stack of papers on the table rose and floated towards Rachnera. They were crude drawings. The first one depicted a pony saying something, complete with a speaking bubble. The words in the bubble were gibberish, but the idea presented in the picture was understandable. The next drawing was that of Rachnera (it was rather insulting; a stick figure upper half with a bulbous lower half with legs everywhere) with her own speaking bubble. Her words looked like chicken scratch. Okay, language barrier. She understood that. The Arachne nodded to Winter.

The third drawing was that of a necklace with some sort of jeweled pendant. Around it were three unicorns (she thought that’s what they were) using their horns on it. The fourth drawing was of the same sad stick figure with the big spider butt wearing the necklace. It had a speaking bubble coming from the figure speaking the same words as the pony from the first drawing.

A translator? Rachnera hummed in thought. She pointed at the last drawing, then at herself. The ponies nodded. It sounded interesting. More magic? Did she want to be subjected to the magic of not one unicorn but three? A frown splayed out across her visage. Shaking her head, she sighed and rubbed her temples with a thumb and finger.

“No,” she uttered one word, head shaking. “No more magicking me, no more magic. No. More. Magic. Please.” The plea came out in a growl, her temper shortening. A long, chitinous leg came up and smashed down on the floor, making the table jump. Wood splintered as the impact gouged a hole.

She was smiling.

The shocked ponies could tell it wasn’t reaching her eyes. All six of them.

She showed them the drawing of the ponies using their horns. “No!” came her voice as she jabbed a finger at the image. “No more magic! Are we clear? Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth?” Crossing her arms over her breasts, she glared at the ponies, not at all sorry for her outburst. She was tired of it!

The drawing fell on the table.

Rachnera considered herself as having precise control over her emotions. The stress was getting to her and she knew it. A deep breath filled her lungs and she held it, closing her eyes. As she let it out, shoulders relaxed and she pulled the tip of her leg out of the fresh hole in the floor.

“Sorry about that,” she sighed as she reopened her eyes.

The two mares were exchanging looks while the stallion was outraged. With a stormy expression, he exploded in his horse language, launching a tirade at the Arachne. He came around the table, spouting unintelligible words because the language barrier was now the most amazing thing in the world. The neighs were shrill, going up several octaves as the indignant stallion was probably insulted in some way or another.

Then he got too close.

Rachnera moved and became a blur of motion. Thread was flicked up into the rafters with one leg while the pedipalps snagged the surprised stallion. He was pulled close, more legs reaching for him. The Arachne wore a determined, hungry look as she began to spin her prey, even as just now there was a reaction from the others. The stallion spun beneath her second thorax as silk spun from spinnerets. Soon, he was encased, Rachnera pulling with one arm on thread. He was hoisted in the air and dangling even as the reactions were just beginning to be set in motion.

Skittering away, Rachnera harrumphed as she turned her back to the ponies, her eyes seeking out and finding Lucifer. He had not moved from behind the counter, though his slack jaw and wide eyes suggested he was impressed.

Winter was under her husband, making panicky horse noises while he was also making the same sort of noises, with utter confusion added for good measure. He was swaying from his struggles. Horns were glowing. Attempts were made to tug the hung stallion from the beam. He and his silk were wrapped up in the odd glow Rachnera associated with magic.

“Neigh,” the Arachne spoke with sarcasm.

From behind his counter, Lucifer was bawling with laughter. Winter scolded him while still trying to free her husband. The minotaur pointed at the stallion and laughed harder.

For Rachnera, the odd sensation of fear had fled her. She eyed the minotaur with suspicion.

Shifting her legs, she turned to face Winter. “No magic, Winter. Do you understand?”

They were having difficulty breaking the thread. Lucifer, still chortling, came around the counter, his hooves thumping loudly on the floor. He bent over, hands on his knees, and said something to the stallion. The muffled reply had him guffawing.

With mollifying tones, Winter whickered. Rachnera was not sure, but perhaps the mare was agreeing to no more magic? Could things be done without use of the damnable cheating?

Now, as an Arachne, Rachnera was sensitive to certain things. The sense of touch was arguably the best of her senses. She could feel vibrations through the ground even without the use of her silken threads. In addition, as a predator, Rachnera could sense aggressiveness in potential prey (dangerous or otherwise). The combination of the two had saved her skin time and time again in her life. The sense of fear and dread she earlier experienced from the minotaur was gone, leading her to growing suspicion.

As it was, the tips of her legs had fine hairs. They were difficult to see and made her chitin appear to be smooth. They were fine enough to be unnoticeable unless one were to take a closer look. Through the clopping of hooves on the floor of the inn, Rachnera’s touch could feel vibrations through the ground and coming from outside. It was nowhere near as noticeable as she would have liked and the sense was ever so slight, but there were a lot of hooves moving towards her location.

She tensed, keeping her eyes on what she could see in front of her while her ears perked. For the moment, there was no aggression directed at her, but there was surprise and a little fear. Pony faces were very expressive, more so than on humans. Rachnera needed to have a sense of control. There had been little of that as of late. Magic had taken that from her and the Arachne found herself more than a little resentful.

No more magic, if she could help it!

The doors were flung open and ponies poured into the common room. The herd was milling around too much to get a proper headcount, but it was mostly mares with a stallion or two thrown in for good measure. They were in a panic, but it was not with the Arachne. Shrill whinnies fill the room and bled the ears. Winter’s ears perked and swiveled towards them as she tried to make sense of the chaos. Again, Rachnera found herself up in the rafters, moving with silent swiftness while the two pegasi guards watched her. They were wary, but did nothing else.

The ponies all went towards Winter, pausing only a moment to give the silk wrapped stallion baffled stares before shifting their attention back to the unicorn mare.

There was a tug at the tip of one of her legs. Looking down, Rachnera found the minotaur girl tugging on it and motioning her to come down. A table in the corner was being pointed at. Lucifer was already seated, his attention squarely on Winter as she dealt with her ponies. He wore a frown. The cow girl wore a gentle smile. The gentle lowing she was giving the Arachne was silly. Everything about this world was silly.

One of the guards waved at her to go with the minotaur. As the pack of panicked ponies propositioned their placating pony pacifier, Rachnera climbed down and joined Lucifer and his minotaur lady at the table indicated. A headache was coming on again and it had everything to do with what she just thought. This world was doing things to her. Did it understand the concept of personal space? She fit herself in the corner, keeping the table between herself and the ponies, while Lucifer scooted over. He was watching what was going on with concern.

The cow sat opposite from the bull. She smiled at Rachnera and fidgeted. No doubt unnerved by the spider girl, she still seemed to not mind too much. There was determination in her dark eyes. Her attention kept shifting between the ponies and her monstrous guest. Reaching with a hand, she tapped the Arachne lightly on the shoulder. In her other hand, she had a pendant dangling from a silver chain. Before Rachnera could say anything, the cow held up her hand and motioned for patience.

With a swift motion, the cow clasped the pendant around her neck. The gem flickered through the colors of the spectrum.

“Let’s see, is this thing working now?” the cow asked while she fingered the gem. Her voice was gentle and soothing. More important, she wasn’t mooing.

A double-take happened. Rachnera asked, her voice hesitant, “You can speak Japanese?”

The cow paused to register the words, a grin breaking over her muzzle, “No, I can’t, but this pendant”—she held it up—”lets you think I’m speaking Neighponese.”

“Japanese,” Rachnera corrected.

“That’s what I said, Neighponese.”

“But you just said—” A roll of the eyes and a helpless giggle. “It’s not important, is it?”

Lucifer snorted, his voice rumbling and deep, “Pony magic is strange. It is everywhere. It is used in almost everything. You have noticed, yes?” His crimson orbs never left the ponies. “You have met young Random Shimmer.” They shifted, found her, and smoldered. It was a disarmingly hellish look, as far as expressions went.

“I have. He seems like a curious child.” The crowd was pushing closer to Winter. She was trying to explain things while her husband was being poked and prodded. “What’s going on? I’ve seen a lot of strange things, but…” Rachnera frowned, “How are we having this conversation?”

“Pendant. Short range. Anycow within normal speaking range can be understood and they in turn can understand you.”

“I...see? So, why are you wearing it?”

“To prove it won’t hurt you. It’s not hurting me. All it does is takes the words spoken within a given range and make them understandable to both speaking parties.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes, “Lord Shimmer was going to force the thing on you before you did that”—he waved a hand at the still dangling stallion—”to him. Hilarious, by the way.” A cheeky grin followed, revealing long, sharp teeth.

Rachnera was impressed.

“Lord Shimmer is a good pony,” the minotaur went on, his voice low as he hunched his shoulders, “He just tends to get a little too intense when he makes demands. He likes others doing as they’re told, even if they don’t understand the language. I think the Canterlot nobility has an issue with common sense. Oh, and that’s my wife, Bria,” he grunted, giving a sidelong glance to the cow.

“Oh, by the stars, my manners!” Bria blushed through her blurred cheeks. Fingering the pendant, she held it up for the Arachne to get a better look. “Bright Luster began work on the gem as soon as Lady Winter asked for a means to communicate with you.”

“I made the chain,” Lucifer said, “set the stone. Bright worked on the enchantment with her magic. I don’t understand the intricacies of what exactly she did, but she is competent enough to be the town’s magic expert.”

“He hasn’t slept since the day before yesterday,” Bria said, giving a meaningful glare to her husband.

“Dear, I’m a monster. Once I saw her,” he gestured to Rachnera, “I knew she was in the same boat I was in when I first came here years ago. I was thinking of something else when I broke down the door.”

The ponies had calmed down, if the dying din was any indication. Lord Sunrise Shimmer was no longer dangling like a loogie. Now he looked like a fish wrapped in silk lying on the floor, still alive and flopping. Guards were sawing at Rachnera’s thread with knives in their mouths, taking great care not to slice away any parts of the lord in the process. Winter Shimmer fretted and paced in one spot.

“They wanted to see you,” Bria stood up and smoothed the front of her dress. “Give them time to sort their lord out. The farmers see you as a good omen, Miss Spider,” she smiled. “I’ll get us something to drink. The discussions could take a while. Ponies either panic or think things out in a group. There is no in between. This looks like a thinking herd today. But that might change.”

Lucifer barked out a short laugh.

The next few minutes were filled with animal noises as Bria and the pendant took understanding with them. An eyebrow twitched as Rachnera wore a pleasant smile. It was awkward. Lucifer paid little attention to her, save for a token nod and a polite moo.

Should she moo back?No, that would probably be taken the wrong way.

Did Bria do this on purpose, to show Rachnera she needed the pendant, that dependency was warranted? It served a purpose and opened many doors and possibilities. She found her attention following the wake of the minotaur cow, thoughts racing. Am I a good omen? It was curious to think of herself as such a thing, like a trinket, or a rabbit’s foot. Spiders bring luck?

Curiosity flew into her mind and made a nest. She noted some of the ponies trying to listen to Winter (and her husband, as he tried to look noble half out of his cocoon by now) would cast a glance or two at her, as if sneaking a peek with more wonder and less fear. Some whispered among themselves, pointing hooves. Curious indeed! Without thinking, Rachnera began to play with her silk, using her hands and fingers to create little webs. They danced and weaved, changing patterns at the will and whim of the Arachne. More than a few eyes were added to those already staring. Wondering whickers filled the room like a smokey, welcoming aroma.

Rachnera smiled to herself and pretended not to notice.

Bria returned, carrying a tray with cups set upon them. She weaved through the ponies, patting a few on the their heads. They smiled at her. Happy horse noises were exchanged with a moo or two. They kept a respectful distance from the table the minotaur and the spider were sitting at.

“Mooo-ght some chilled cider,” she transitioned from cowspeak to something understandable as she drew near. Drinks were set down. “Sweet Apple Acres stock. Always nice to have when panic is devouring the village.”

“Dear, that’s our best stock!” Lucifer growled as he picked up his drink. He looked into it, swirling the contents as he inhaled deeply. “What is the special occasion?”

“We are welcoming a new friend and properly, as though we were in our homeland,” Bria responded, smiling to Rachnera. “I can’t speak on behalf of the ponies, but you are welcome under our roof as a guest, so long as you behave yourself.” The change in tone was an artful thing to hear: a welcoming and a warning given with equal sincerity.

Rachnera smiled, lifted her cup, and sipped. Her eyes widened as the taste tickled her tongue, a spiced apple flavor exploding in her mouth. The taste was alive! “Oh, that’s good.”

“My private stock?” Lucifer protested. “Dear wife, I was saving that!”

“For what?” she retorted, “One of those nights of swapping stories with some old drunken farmers? Might I add you’ve begun repeating the recollections of The Battle with them several times.”

“But they like my stories.”

“And you enjoy their side of the battle,” she rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You males are all the same, no matter what species.”

Rachnera giggled into her cup. Bria flicked her ears and shifted her attention. “Miss Spider. Please take this pendant. This will make your life so much simpler. I can’t explain the more intricate details on how it works. You’ll have to talk to Bright Luster for the details. Please. The ponies mean you no harm. Can’t you trust them, if only to make it easier for yourself?” The necklace was unclasped and offered to the Arachne.

“I—” Rachnera hesitated.

Bria mooed and shook the necklace as she rolled her eyes.

It seemed it had to be worn in order to work. Swallowing her pride and yielding to common sense, Rachnera accepted the necklace and the pendant. She was unused to jewelry, having none herself. It was frivolous. Still, her nimble and slender fingers soon had the pendant dangling from her neck and nestled in the deep valley between her breasts. It felt warm and comforting.

“Can you understand me now?” she asked.

“Yes.” Bria settled into her seat and smiled. “It only works if it is being worn.”

Lord Sunrise Shimmer was finally free of his silken prison. He was helped to his hooves, offering a hateful glare at Rachnera that vanished as he turned his attention back to his ponies. There was a ragged (and half-hearted) cheer upon his freedom and the ponies pressed in, ears perked to listen as he spoke. Foals had appeared in the common room, filing in as they were watched over by a few adults.

“He’s telling them about his visit to the Diamond Dogs colony,” Lucifer offered as the voice speaking was out of range of the pendant’s enchantment. “They already told him about the three diamond dogs that were captured. Brilliant, by the way, from what I heard, Miss Spider. I don’t think you made a friend with his Lordship.”

“I don’t think the villagers mind,” Bria shrugged. “He’s still a Canterlot noble in their eyes. They have more respect for Winter. But he tries, which is more than what could be expected from a sheltered group of privileged aristocrats. He also knows better than to harm a spider, any spider.”

“Eight legs,” the bull murmured in his cup.

“Spiders remove pests,” Bria said as she put the empty tray on the counter. She held her own cup, gesturing at the Arachne with it. “A fool removes them from their garden. I’ve seen how some of the farmers look at her. They’re good omens.”

“Scared rabbits,” snorted Lucifer.

“For the most part, yes,” she conceded. “Ponies are skittish by nature. But give them time and they’ll be asking her to remove the vermin from their plots.”

Lucifer snorted over his cup, spewing drink over the table. He appeared upset with himself as the precious liquid was everywhere but in his belly, then glared at his wife. Her eyes were wide and innocent.

Rachnera laughed.

The Arachne, in the meantime, had no idea what to make of Bria. Was she trying to see past her fear? A closer look saw honesty in the bipedal bovine. Yes, the fear was there, but so was intrigue and hopefulness. There was no glint of hate or disgust, but a sense of wanting to overcome her fears and to understand the spider monster a bit better. Or was that a stretch? In terms of reading others, the liminal considered herself competent, though kept in mind her own cynicism for other species. Lucifer no longer seemed interested in smashing a spider, for the moment.

In the end, it took a pair of monsters to take another monster under their roof for protection.

Rachnera Arachne was fine with that.