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A Legend of the Before People, of Atelani, the First Female Chief

The enormous spider was beyond Atelani’s worst nightmares, yet its laughter was that of an old friend. “You are a killer, girl of the Ouataki!” Murmurs of assent rose from the undergrowth as Atelani realized that she was surrounded by dozens of huge arachnids.

“It… It was not my will…” she choked, but the spider’s amusement only increased.

“Not your will? You kill again and again. You spin webs and lay in wait. You strike with your fangs and spill the blood of your prey. You leave their lifeless husks to rot in the sun!” The import of the spider’s words hit Atelani like a falling tree and she staggered with the realization of what she had done – what she was doing. “Tabu!” The word was repeated over and over as a tribe’s worth of hard, glittering eyes regarded the weeping assassin.

Then the spider’s voice assumed an almost gentle tone. “Do not despair. What is tabu for the Ouataki is lawful for the Ki-Kokani. Those you have slain are lower than the unworthiest mate; they are less even than flies. --Aya! Their souls are filled with stinking evil that no fly would touch!”

Atelani hung her head, yet she listened intently. “The gods have said it!” intoned the spider. “You are one of us until your work is done!”

“One of us,” chorused the others, “one of us!” And as their approval rang in her ears, Atelani drifted off to a dreamless sleep, the best she had had in weeks.

Description

A Legend of the Before People, of Atelani, the First Female Chief

The enormous spider was beyond Atelani’s worst nightmares, yet its laughter was that of an old friend. “You are a killer, girl of the Ouataki!” Murmurs of assent rose from the undergrowth as Atelani realized that she was surrounded by dozens of huge arachnids.

“It… It was not my will…” she choked, but the spider’s amusement only increased.

“Not your will? You kill again and again. You spin webs and lay in wait. You strike with your fangs and spill the blood of your prey. You leave their lifeless husks to rot in the sun!” The import of the spider’s words hit Atelani like a falling tree and she staggered with the realization of what she had done – what she was doing. “Tabu!” The word was repeated over and over as a tribe’s worth of hard, glittering eyes regarded the weeping assassin.

Then the spider’s voice assumed an almost gentle tone. “Do not despair. What is tabu for the Ouataki is lawful for the Ki-Kokani. Those you have slain are lower than the unworthiest mate; they are less even than flies. --Aya! Their souls are filled with stinking evil that no fly would touch!”

Atelani hung her head, yet she listened intently. “The gods have said it!” intoned the spider. “You are one of us until your work is done!”

“One of us,” chorused the others, “one of us!” And as their approval rang in her ears, Atelani drifted off to a dreamless sleep, the best she had had in weeks.