~ Some bonds are spun not with words, but with quiet presence. ~
The war was over. The Web sang again.
But peace… peace was a strange thing.
Spidey sat beneath a tree of silver threaded leaves, her fingers sunk into the soft, mossy roots. Above her, the sky held no omens just light, pale and forgiving. The threads no longer trembled. The stars no longer wept. The world no longer broke beneath her feet.
And yet, something felt... missing.
Her voice.
She had given it to save the Web. Whispered it into the core when all else was unraveling. Not stolen, not taken given. Willingly. But still gone.
Now, in the hush that followed the final sacrifice, only silence remained.
And yet… she was not alone.
Nyxi sat curled beside her hand, legs tucked in, breathing in rhythm with her.
They hadn't spoken not with words. Not since that final scream of thread and flame. But they didn't need to. The silence between them was not empty.
It was full of knowing.
---
One morning, Spidey wandered toward the still threaded pond, where memory once shimmered like glass. The reflections were kind now. No more ghost Spideys. No cracked mirrors. Only her tired, yes, but glowing with something softer than victory.
Nyxi followed, hopping lightly from stalk to stone, occasionally tugging a loose thread into place.
When Spidey dipped her fingers into the water, she didn't look for a voice. She just let the coolness settle into her skin. Ripples danced out from her touch, catching moonlight in gentle circles.
Nyxi scuttled beside her and clicked thoughtfully.
> "You miss the sound of your own laughter, don't you?"
Spidey blinked, then nodded.
Nyxi tapped a thread above them, letting it sing.
> "I remember what it sounded like. I'll never forget. I'll carry it for you."
Spidey smiled faintly. Then reached down and cupped Nyxi in her palms, pressing her against her heart.
A silent thank you.
---
They built a small web together that afternoon not for magic, not for memory, just… for comfort. Spidey wove strands between ancient stones while Nyxi guided her fingers, correcting her knots with little nudges.
It didn't look perfect.
It looked theirs.
At night, they rested beneath it, and for the first time in a long time, Spidey closed her eyes without fear chasing her into dreams.
---
Some days, they walked the garden path. No destination. Just motion. Spidey would touch the petals, brush her fingers along bark, pause at the places where echoes used to scream.
They no longer did.
Because she was louder now, even in silence.
Nyxi, ever watchful, would hum low and soft not a song, not a spell, but the rhythm of presence. The kind of noise that meant: I am here. You are not alone.
---
One evening, Spidey stood at the edge of the garden, watching the horizon shimmer. The threads out there tugged softly, ready for her to begin again, to walk the worlds and repair what remained frayed.
But she didn't step forward.
Not yet.
Instead, she sat back down beneath their thread tree.
Nyxi curled beside her again.
No rush. No riddles. No monsters.
Just the two of them.
Together.
Mended.
Quiet.
And whole in a way that didn't need sound to prove it.
---
TO BE CONTINUED...
🕷️🕸️