The young Drow-child was seated on the floor with his knees tucked tightly up to his chest, sobbing heavily. Both hands were balled into fists, rubbing his eyes in a typical childish gesture, and blood streamed down his back.

Neer'zennet paused, shocked. The boy did not notice his presence, however, until the tall male reached down and lightly stroked his soft white hair. "What's wrong?"

Through gulps and whimpers, the child whispered in a pained voice, "I killed a spider…"

The hand, part-way through teasing a tangle from the boy's hair, froze. "You did what…?"

Recognising the shock that had run through his father, the boy's crying resumed with renewed vigour.

The tall male shut his eyes tightly. "Why did you do that, Kyran?" Awful ideas were beginning to flow through his mind, whether it had been because of the forbidden things that he had been teaching his young son, things that could get them both executed without warning.

"I didn't mean to!" The child wailed, unclenching his fists and pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. His body trembled. "It was so small and… and…" He lost the thread of his words for a moment as sobs again wracked his body. "And… I didn't mean to kill it… it just… I…" He removed both hands from his face and looked around at his father miserably. "Ardulva'zyne said it was probably a good thing but… she… still…" Kyran's lower lip trembled again.

Neer'zennet sighed heavily and crouched beside the child, running his fingers roughly, yet affectionately, through his hair. Most fathers did not take much interest in their sons, but Kyran was a strange child, more interested in music than anything else. Neer'zennet did not doubt that the boy would be broken in his future… "Why did Ardulva'zyne say it was good?" He disliked questioning the boy too much, but his curiosity was piqued - that Ardulva'zyne, so much like her mother but with less of a temper, could mete out a punishment this severe but temper it with saying it was… good?

The child shivered. "She said… she said that it was not a good spider… that it was not one of ours but was a bad one…"

The older male's eyes narrowed thoughtfully, making Kyran cringe away as if fearing retribution from his father too. Neer'zennet sighed softly and patted his bare black shoulder. Ardulva'zyne had probably recognised a takeover attempt when she had seen one, had realised that the spider Kyran had inadvertently killed had been a spy for a rival house. But still, killing a holy animal was more than just a sin - males had been summarily destroyed for less. Ardulva'zyne was truly more lenient than Matron Aun'shalee had ever been.

Kyran curled up around his legs again, his tears spent but his mood obviously troubled. "What will… will mother do… anything?" The fear in his voice nearly broke Neer'zennet's heart.

"I think Ardulva'zyne will explain to her, you don't have to worry." But he doubted his own words as he spoke them. Kyran probably had everything to worry about. The life of the child was never going to be easy, right from the moment he was born male. It seemed the young Drow caught the doubt in his voice too, turning large red eyes up to meet his own with an expression of strange, profound sadness. Neer'zennet sighed and tousled the boy's hair one more time before getting to his feet. "We need to do something about your back."

Kyran stared at him for a moment longer, before reaching up and taking the ebony hand that was offered down at him, Getting slowly, painfully to his feet, the child followed his father from the room.

---

Ardulva'zyne was seared behind a small table, squinting painfully against the light of a candle as she re-sewed the hem to a dress when Neer'zennet found her.

"Why didn't you kill him?" The Drow male asked bluntly.

"You take your life in your hands, addressing me in that way." The Priestess carefully placed her sewing upon the table and folded her hands in her lap. In the candle light, both Drow expressions were unreadable, the heat signatures masked.

Neer'zennet swallowed slightly. "I know. But I have to ask: why did you spare his life? Why didn't you punish him as the sin deserved?"

Ardulva'zyne smiled peacefully. "But I did punish him suitably."

The tall male looked momentarily nonplussed, until Kyran's miserable words filtered through his memory. "'It was a bad spider'?"

The Priestess picked up her sewing again and resumed hemming the dress in a small, neat stitch. Without taking her eyes from her work, she spoke. "I had sensed something to be out of the ordinary before, but I had been unable to find exactly what it was. I had also heard rumours of House Teken'ar's sudden ambition also, but I placed no importance upon it."

"A day does not go by when you don't hear of the aspirations of one House or another," Neer'zennet murmured softly.

Ardulva'zyne nodded, again pausing in her needlework. "It was only when I heard Kyran scream and saw for myself what he had done that the fragments began to make sense." Seeing the male's blank expression, she smiled. "The spider bore the tiniest gold band around its body. House Teken'ar obviously did not wish to lose their prize pet."

"So… that's why you…" he breathed, crimson eyes wide. The expression gave him as naïve a look as his son usually bore.

She nodded, then a more sly smile crept over her face, making her suddenly, frighteningly, resemble her mother. Neer'zennet kept his countenance impassive and trusted that the candlelight would keep his innermost feelings secret.

Ardulva'zyne glanced down at her stitching, the smile remaining. "I hear that House Teken'ar believes that Lloth favours them. That is why they have been plotting to destroy us." Her smile became an uncharacteristic grin of triumph, of religious zeal. "This proves that Lloth does not favour them - she favours us!" The grin subsided into a small wry smile. "Although showing her favour in such a way, through a male child no less, proves that she truly works in mysterious ways, as befits the Lady of Chaos."

"Lloth thu malla." Neer'zennet whispered fervently, relieved beyond imagining that this was how the First Daughter of House Zauani saw the situation.

"Lloth be praised." Ardulva'zyne glanced down at her sewing again, then back up to the slim sorcerer's face. "You may go."

Neer'zennet bowed low toward the seated Priestess, then turned and exited the room with perhaps a little more haste than was seemly.

---

Ardulva'zyne narrowed her eyes at his retreating back. That was not the entire story, far from it, but it was already more than sufficient for a male consort's knowledge. As much as Matron Aun'shalee seemed fairly taken with the slender male - and he had already survived longer than any of her previous mates - the elegant young cleric could not shake the feeling that some part of Neer'zennet Arkenath was not committed to House Zauani. And Aun'shalee demanded total commitment from both servants and family. Neer'zennet's time would soon be up.

Following the logical train of thought as she resumed the final stretch of her needlework, her consideration turned to the sorcerer's son. Kyran was a strange child. Aun'shalee viewed the boy with more contempt than she had for any of her other male children because he had inherited his father's boyishly pretty features instead of his mother's striking, yet more angular, face. The patient Ardulva'zyne found it bizarre. Males were males in the eyes of Lloth, and nothing else: they were low creatures, never to attain the standards and repute that females held, but still interesting for a night of fun or to whip when things did not go as planned. To dislike one over another was alien to her, because they were all equally worthless.

Nevertheless, Kyran did not annoy her in the same way that other male children did. He was solemn and quiet, and Ardulva'zyne found herself thinking occasionally that had the unfortunate sibling been born a female, he would have made a good Priestess. The boy's wide eyes were almost captivating, and she occasionally offered small kindnesses in his direction - one or two less lashes than he deserved when he did things wrong, or perhaps a slightly longer lesson on the Spider Queen's conquests rather than teach him more tiresome things. She wondered idly as she finished her needlepoint if the boy would follow in his father's footsteps and join the Sorcere, or whether Melee-Magthere would hold his education for many long years.

Pinning the needle into the pointed collar of her top and tucking the now repaired dress beneath her arm, she blew out the candle in one light breath. She paused for a moment to allow her eyes to accustom themselves to the dark again, blinking the painful light from the back of her vision, then left the room via the same exit that Neer'zennet had used.

No matter what might befall the child Kyran in the future, Ardulva'zyne hoped that he would at least be a credit to the House.