A draft of a short story I wrote. It is supposed to be similar to that of classic storybooks read by the bedside of children. Fantasies, fairy tales, etc. This is currently a draft that will be revised.
"Silkworms and Spiders"
More native than the pioneer plant life on the countryside, the woods outlived all. A massive expanse of trees that encircled a town, the woods have existed since the beginning of time. The townsfolk, however, preferred to keep their distance. The townsfolk baked bread, raised cattle, and whatever mindless tasks that kept them from thinking about the paranormal "monstrosities" that lived within.
But some longed to adventure into the woods. In the eyes of Louise, a silkworm farmer, the woods were more intriguing than anything the town could offer. Now, it wasn’t that Louise didn’t love her family’s silkworm farm, or the privacy it offered from the townsfolk. But it was lonely, hard work. As a little girl, Louise was squeamish. Boiling the cocoons, Louise dropped them one by one into the water with a satisfying plop. Only to scream when she saw that the worms were being boiled alive.
Instead, she preferred to dance. Twirl on the grassy fields her family owned. However, it wasn't allowed by her grandmother.
Now, she loved what she did. Silk was a popular fabric for its unique properties. Silk was the most luxurious fabric, the most comfortable fabric, the best fabric for drape, the best fabric for color, capable of the greatest luster, etc. And although she never wore silk garments, Louise knew that this was work of skill.
Still, no one in the town was around for miles. At least…she thought no one was around.
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The first gift had been small. A piece of rough quartz, bound with some kind of shimmering thread that held it delicately around her throat. It was simple, but lovely.
Louise adored it. And wore it often, but it did make her question who could have left it for her. As no one could have left it in the pocket of her apron-that hung on line over the mulberry leaves.
And so with that process of elimination, she concluded that it must have been a gift from the woods.
Louise was giddy. Eccentric about anything and everything belonging to the woods, she knew first-hand that the woods were not empty. And that, on occasion, creatures would pass through. It was for this reason that she left a couple of fruits and vegetables on the stalks in their gardens, leaving these things to those who would pass through if they were in need of it.
Louise had been left small gifts before in thanks, always left in the pockets of her pants, shirts, or otherwise hanging on line, instead of the open kitchen. Where her grandmother, a stern woman with no respect for the woods, could come across them.
Someone, or something, once left Louise a handmade wooden carving of a deer with sturdy eyes of coal. And she was more than certain that it glowed warmly in her hands during cold nights.
That was the first time a gift from the unknown had been directed solely at her.
Still, Louise accepted the gift graciously, and found a new hop in her step as she went about plucking mulberry leaves for the silkworms. Louise's grandmother shot a look at her, singing while she worked, but didn't say another word.
The second gift was a slightly more intricate bracelet. It too was made of the same thread. But instead of a piece of quartz, it held a small oval of amber-held in place by carefully woven fibers. In its center, Louise could see the body of an insect that had been trapped there many years ago. It soon became another favorite of hers to wear, joining the necklace in her daily wear. Even though she hid them beneath a well-placed sleeve or collar.
Over the next couple of weeks, more and more little gifts would show up at her balcony. Much to Louise's bewilderment, each small but gorgeous gift was obviously intricately made with her in mind. And as much as she adored the gifts, she was starting to become disheartened that she had yet to see or meet the mysterious gift giver.
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After a month of this back and forth, Louise opened the doors to find a hand woven hairband of purple bellflowers and silk wrapped into two bows to replace the one she'd lost the day before. Enamored, she decided that it was time to take matters into her own hands. With a somewhat pounding heart, and a bit of childlike arrogance, Louise wrote a letter to her stranger: Thanking them for their lovely gifts and asking that she might finally meet them. Once written, Louise tucked it into a shirt pocket, and anxiously awaited their response. Whatever knight, prince, or citizen was trying to pry their way into her heart, she'd be ready for them.
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What she wasn't ready for was the cold shoulder. Louise heard nothing from her gift giver for weeks, and began to worry that she had offended or frightened them off in her enthusiasm.
Grandma would be gone for weeks delivering silk to the nearby towns. Leaving Louise to tend to the entirety of their farm herself. Exhausted and disheartened, she returned to her room. And yet after contemplating the same question for over a month, the answer appeared to be hanging on her doorway.
Hanging in the doorway was a dress, woven from the finest silk she'd ever seen or felt. It glittered and shimmered in the light, reminiscent of the threads she'd grown to recognize. It was embellished with opals the size of a baby's pinkie, and was the equivalent of iridescence itself. Fit for royalty, or a princess. Not for a lowly, albeit skilled, silkworm farmer.
The matter in which the setting sunlight reflected off of it was otherworldly, so much so that Louise found herself distracted as she thoroughly admired it—before realizing there was something different to the gift this time.
Taking down the dress from the frame of the door, Louise discovered a long, thin thread attached to the crest above them, spanning above the gardens and leading into the woods. A path, she realized.
Excitedly, Louise made to follow it-only to remember the dress she still held, nearly slipping out of her arms like liquid. After a moment's thought, she hurried away inside, changing into the dress. After donning a few of the other gifts, Louise hurried out and began to follow the thread. As she walked she kept her fingers loosely pressed against the string, letting it guide her deeper and deeper into the woods that were more fiction than reality.
By moon rise, Louise came across a clearing before the base of a cliff. Finding no continuation of the string, she frowned in confusion—turning around curiously and wondering if she’d missed something, and how she’d get out of this one when her grandmother came home.
Suddenly, someone cleared their throat. Louise spun on her heels, finding herself stepping back in shock at what she saw.
"Uh, Miss Silkworm Farmer? Ma’am? Louise?"
In front of Louise was a creature twice her height, its top half appearing nearly human, whilst its bottom half was that of a rather massive spider. Sweat—if spiders could sweat—ran down its forehead and flushed cheeks as it-or, more so, he-looked at her, fingers absently fiddling as he awaited her reaction.
Starstruck, Louise said nothing. But when she took too long to respond, the boy hunched in on himself, legs folding slightly to appear smaller. His expression became more nervous by the second.
“Are...are you disappointed that I am not what you expected?” he said.
"No! No not at all." Louise replied. "I mean to say-I am not disappointed. Anyone who could make such fine gifts for me, such precious fabric...of course they would have to come from a beautiful spider too." She tried to smile becomingly at him, though she was uncomfortably aware of how little control she had over the muscles in her face. Louise hoped he didn't think she was scared. "To be honest, I had a suspicion or two. You'd have to get all that silk from somewhere."
It was hard to see with his impressive height, but his voice conveyed enough emotions for the lack of expressions. "Oh. I thought maybe you wouldn't...or that you'd be scared. That you wouldn't come."
"You aren't very scary." Louise responded calmly. "Or very disappointing. It was a shock, sure, but you seem quite nice actually! To be honest, the main thought is that I'm going to need stilts."
"...What?"
"You're very tall."
At the note of dryness in her tone, he laughed. "Oh. I...I think I could try sitting down?"
"That's alright!" Louise offered him a smile. "I don't entirely mind. You look quite nice in the moonlight."
He smiled sheepishly. "Really? Um, you look nice at any time of day?" He stumbled on his sentences.
"A natural charmer, aren’t you? Well, it's all thanks to your gifts. Did you make all of these?" Louise asked gently, sitting on a large rock near the mouth of a roaring waterfall.
"Yes, I did! Do you like them?" He asked excitedly, gracefully moving his eight long legs around to sit in front of her.
"Oh, they're amazing! The talent you hold in those hands of yours! Or, legs? This thread, how did you make it? How? And where?" Louise asked, standing upright on the rock and twirling gleefully in the opal studded gown, thoroughly amazed at the durability of the items.
He scratched his neck and stared to the side awkwardly. “Well…”
“My goodness, I haven’t even asked you for your name!” Louise extended a hand. “Louise, it’s nice to finally meet you! Although, you already knew that, didn't you?”
“Oh, uh, it’s Ronan. And yes, it’s nice to meet you, Louise.”
If she thought this place looked magical during sundown, the sight of it bathed in moonlight was simply impossible to describe. Fireflies flickered through the trees, bringing soft embers of light to the otherwise dark woods beyond their clearing. And the fine beams of moonlight that filtered through the canopy danced across the surface of the water like liquid silver mixed with fallen stars.
Between the sounds of the waterfall and the creatures of the woods, the night itself seemed alive with an energy that couldn’t be put into words. Louise’s voice was lighter than it’d been all evening, and Ronan’s shoulders relaxed the deeper he settled into their conversation. The experience almost didn’t seem real, despite how grounded she felt at that moment.
With him by her side, Louise sat patiently in the brightness, letting the ecstasy and ethereal magic of the woods wrap around her like a veil of protection. Hours could have passed, and she would not have noticed.
The soothing calm was broken when she heard the sound of something coming through the waterfall towards them. Louise swished her head in his direction, her questioning stare met with a shy smile. “I wouldn’t have wasted your time for nothing.” he said.
An elegantly carved boat breached the waterfall slowly, the rower within remaining completely dry even as the water cascaded down his body and into the boat, only to run up and over the sides instead of settling within. He, too, had the bottom half of his body resemble a spider. Though his legs were a deeper brown and jagged at the edges, much more intimidating than the boy she’d met recently.
A spike of nerves formed in Louise's guts as she saw the boat, but the moment she met those gentle silver eyes Ronan, she relaxed once more. Perhaps the decision was nonsensical, but she could really care less about making sense. This night was already enough to prove everything she'd ever known was limited to her family's farm.
Though the rower looked regal and dressed in finery, he didn’t look down on her in disgust for her spider silk appearance in contradiction of her species, like he'd been expecting a guest from Ronan. With a gentle smile, Louise's gift giver dipped his head towards her, a hand pressed over his chest. Crushing the shiny fabric of his maroon vest and crimson tie. Only now did Louise see that she was barely tall enough to reach the bright brass buttons of his black coat. What she wouldn’t do for a pair of stilts to reach his face.
“Are you ready?” He asked, respectfully refraining from asking if she were sure.
At her determined nod, he smiled. Stepping into the boat from the surface of the water as though it were dry land. Ronan gently took her hand in his and helped her into the wide vessel, unfazed by the water she took with her as it clung to her clothes and shoes.
His comforting smile encouraged one of her own as the boat began to move, his hand reaching out and offering solidarity as she watched the waterfall slowly cover the boat once more.
Whatever strange protection cloaked this boat, now extended to Louise as well-the water rolling off her body with ease as she watched on in wonder. Cavern walls closed in, illuminated by the jagged rocks slick with water. Tiny shards of quartz sparkled beneath the surface of the water. The rower chuckled lowly at her expression, Ronan gently squeezing her shoulder as the boat kept moving forward.
“It’s been a long time since we’ve welcomed someone new...but you've been so kind to us of the woods. You’ll be safe with us, this I swear to you.” Then, he laughed. "Don't worry though! You'll be back home before your grandmother is."
"Ha! I bet she'd love to have me out of the house. 'Good riddance!' she'd say."
Ronan's voice was gentle yet anxious as he spoke. And whilst Louise wanted to continue to talk with him, to thank him, she found herself unable to.
As the boat breached the unseen gateway, all Louise could do was stare in awe, breath hitching as emotions flooded through her and her eyes began to sting with tears at it’s beauty.
“We're happy to have you, Louise."
Brilliant blue light streamed through. The cavern opened up into a spectacle of whirling dancers. All with the bottom half of a spider, and eight long legs tipping and tapping, dragging and scraping around the...the ballroom. It was a ballroom!
A giant, hollow raveen of light filtered through glassy threads of spidersilk, woven in intricate patterns around the roots of a rather massive tree. A peculiar chandelier.
But the peculiarity meant nothing to Louise when confronted with the opportunity to dance in the wonder. The rhythm, the love drunk laughter, the singing of a voice so deeply settled in rich, dark chocolate. Why, she'd fallen into a painting of her own. And it was almost too much for her to bear. The paint strokes of a higher artist’s brush dabbed splotches of warm red on her and his faces. Ronan stood frigidly at the entrance as he watched the Louise's face absolutely melt with affection.
His looming presence was not intimidating. And for once she truly was not afraid to grab ahold of Ronan's hands, lurching him forward. Curiosity resting deeply in the silver pools of his eyes, he grinned. And stealing the opportunity from him, Louise braved the obvious question. “May I have this dance?” She asked excitedly.
Ronan bowed. "It would be an honor."
And before that night, before yards worth of spider silk, never had a human set foot into the magic of the woods.