2 Orb Weavers

A journey always starts with a single foot, a fire brimming with determination and stubbornness. Whether it lasts until the end is up to how much firewood it incinerates for its goal.

The cave walls were frigid, the floor damp with the previous rain water. The famished pack sits outside, their bodies hidden but their presence ever growing into the brain of man. A fluctuating fear, wounds that won't recover, a blade so dull to even cut.

I took off my helmet, the right side once red was now singed black. The soles of my feet were burnt, the charred scars ran up my legs in an intricate pattern, mother nature's strange art form. Despite regaining control of my body, the pain stayed to remind me of Raiden's wrath.

The sword rests next to me, the very base of it threatening to snap. Another form of unruly vengeance for its master, not allowing itself to be used by the one who murdered him. It was practically useless, the first swing will shatter, no matter how much I soften the blow.

Exhausted, my chin raises to stare at the mossy ceiling as my head leans towards the stone wall. The residential arachnids watched a desperate woman, hanging on by a thin spider's thread, waiting for the sun to break over the horizon to banish the spirits prowling outside.

Yet I dare not to fully envelope myself into my dreams, even if I close my eyes to reality. The Okuri-inus would no doubt strike. The strength to even face them has been sapped from my being, they'll rip the flesh from my bones and leave nothing behind, not even a finger.

Then, there was a step. It was faint, barely reverbing in the cave. My dulled sense would've dismissed it had it not been for the strange suffocating scent of smoke. My fingers slowly moved for the handle, waiting for it to approach. It wasn't human, a man doesn't emanate fire naturally lest he is set alight.

My breathing halts, it was beside me. The pungent smell alongside the heat, my mind raced only towards one thing.

A resounding shatter, scattering across the puddles with a mild splash. The stone wall breaks, the chips falling into their place.

"Careful to not spend your leftover strength, Miss Oni." A breathy voice of a woman. "You're in no shape to even move after having been struck by lightning."

"If it means I am not eaten alive, then I'll keep fighting."

"Ease yourself, my guest. My children do not hunger for Oni flesh." An etched smile across her pale skin, several thin lines of web hung around her multiple appendages, every thread housing a fire-breathing spider at the end. There's no mistake, it was a Jorogumo.

She glances towards the cobwebs around the ceiling, as if gesturing to the spiders.

"Come greet our guest now~."

They drop down gently from their abode. Three young women take their place, the form they take to lure unsuspecting prey.

"So we're not gonna eat her?"

The middle one nudges her. "Is the only thing on your mind is food..!?"

The third squinted at me, difficult to tell if she could actually see me under that conniving smile.

From one hole out of the other, from a pack of dogs to a den of spiders. Karma truly has spun, my fate embellished into uncertainty. To judge a handful of strangers if they are kind or deceiving is comparable to gambling in a shoddy house full of lying cheaters.

The mother cleared her throat, all three behaved at a moment's notice.

"My beloved children, please, behave in front of our seldom guest."

"Yes, mother." All three chimed. Mild mannerism, suddenly obedient after a simple call. Paired with gorgeous appearances, most men would swoon over these types of women. If a Jorogumo wasn't good at keeping up such a heinous charade, how would she feed her children?

My grip didn't loosen over my broken blade, dare I not even for a second.

"Ah, where are my manners, please, refer to me as Jōren." The mother places one of her spider limbs over her heart, bowing ever so slightly. She gestures to the other women with another appendage.

"The eager one is Izumi, next to her is Mayumi and the tallest is Satomi."

They all bowed as well, speaking in unison.

"It's nice to meet you, Miss Oni!"

My tongue grew dumb, my lack of proper ethtics were coming back to bite me. I took a deep breath.

"Ogawa. You can call me that."

"Miss Ogawa, I see." The Jorogumo raised her head, clasping her appendages together. "Can you stand up or rather perhaps you'd want us to carry you?"

"I'm fine. Allow me to rest myself shortly here and I will leave you at peace once dawn breaks."

Unsettling chills, a brief sound of rattling, the cave repeating a small drop of water.

"I'm afraid that violates my ethics, Miss Ogawa. A house owner..."

Suddenly, my body was lifted away from the ground, strings of web pulling my arm by the Jorogumo's daughters. The tallest allowed herself to be my new crutch.

"...must always treat her guests well."

What little strength left, all futile against three of her daughters. Had I shown more resistance to their so called courtesy, my body may be trapped in webs. Yet, if their objective was to bite me limb by limb as a sweet snack, they would've assaulted me right then and there.

My mind pondered as my arms and legs were dragged deeper into their den. The path arched downwards, as if descending the gullet of an unknown beast. The little light emanating outside had become incredibly scarce. Whether I closed my eyes or not, all was but impenetrable darkness of this cavern. All I could trust now was the footsteps that lead me to an untouchable place beyond the surface.

Until my ears have also betrayed me as well.

Cold. Numbing, rigid, stiff. Ashes falling from the heavenly skies, piling over the leaking cesspool. The numbers, heads, arms, legs, the men who arrived armed to the teeth. Their armour were like straws, arrows as brittle as a twig yet no boats to cross over the Sanzu River.

There was one, among the maskless men, one who hid behind a demon's face. No one stood with him, not one dared. They cowered behind his sword, the horns growing over his head. An unnatural energy, differentiating one from humans.

To end a conflict in a single stroke, to sever the veins of life, cleaving through flesh and bones cleanly. Keep a steady breath. Grip as solid as stone, as fluid as water. Seek an opportunity and strike like a hawk diving from above.

One swing through the chilling wind, metal meets flesh.

And the monster screamed, the mountain itself shaking. The stalwart hero rests his blade, the blood mixed in with the sheath of its owner. He who patiently waited for the monster to raise her head, suddenly quivered when their eyes met.

Confusion, hesitation, all washed into that very moment. The masked ronin turned his back against the crying beast and spoke nothing. He discarded the demon, his inhuman features reclining and left the haunting stare of an oni for the graceful snow to bury behind.

To be spared is humiliation. A cut meant to end an idea, gave birth to another. Snow painted in icy red, a spark harbinging vengeance. Wrathful, ash reborn.

No matter who stood in my way.

And then, it snaps.

"You've been staring at the ceiling for a while."

My eyes blinked, ceilings made from tatami, an orange hue from a nearby fire.

Twas but a dream of that moment again.

"Here, drink this." The woman who was idly staring at her own reflection placed a bowl next to me. The blanket moved over as I sat right up.

Without thinking, my hands grabbed it. A strange liquid sits inside, odourless.

"It's a blend of herbs. Don't worry, it's not poison."

My eyes darted towards her, her smile rather superficial in the dim lighting of a lamp.

"...Who are you again?"

As if it was ingrained in her mind, she bowed once again.

"Satomi, Miss Ogawa. You passed out while we were on our way here."

"Passed out, huh…"

The odd woman placed a basin of water next to me, a cloth neatly folded as well. I raised my hand before she could rinse it in water.

"I can do it myself."

"If you so wish, Miss Ogawa."

The herb mixture swirled inside the bowl, my thoughts arising now that I've come to notice of this dire situation. The time that had gone by, the whereabouts of where I am. The mask I had, where was it?

Profoundly perplexed, I only decided to drink the bitter medicine.

I was just lucky to still be alive.