As the final words of Aria's goodbye faded into the silence of the graveyard, Kaiser reached out and gently grabbed her arm. She didn’t put up a fight and she simply let him bring her away from the graves. Her eyes were shut, face a silent mix of so many different feelings as they began their gradual stroll through the gravestones, and the longer they went in silence, the heavier the air felt, filling with the weight of unspoken word.

  For a?while, they said nothing. The only sound breaking the silence was the crunch of gravel underfoot. Kaiser kept stealing looks at her every few moments, her face inscrutable except for the slight tear tracks on her cheeks. She was somewhere inside herself, running through whatever thoughts he could only wonder about, so he turned his head to look at the death fairies drifting between the graves.

  Their jet-black robes flowed an inch above the ground, as though swaying in an invisible draft. The white masks covering their faces were blank and featureless, yet somehow unsettling, as if they were watching without eyes. The fairies sat beside graves as if they were sad sentries, weaving soft, nonsensical stories for those no longer living. One fairy was perched cross-legged on a large tombstone, waving her hands around as if telling?about a great adventure. One knelt beside a grave, its voice low and soothing, like?a parent lulling a child to sleep.

  The whole scene felt surreal to Kaiser, absurd even. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Floating figures telling stories to the dead? It was as if he’d stepped into a dream, one that didn’t follow the rules of logic. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a rare and unsettling sense of being lost. Truly lost.

  Then suddenly Aria giggled quietly and he could see the faintest smile on her face. It wasn’t the forced, polite smile he’d seen in the past; this was real, as if she’d just won a silent fight in her brain.

  “That’s better,” Kaiser said, his voice light, though his relief was real.

  Aria turned her head?slightly towards him, a smile still lingering on her lips. “What’s better?”

  “You smiling. It looks good on you, more than…” He waved vaguely at her face.

  “Crying?” she said,?raising an eyebrow.

  “Grieving,” he corrected. “But yeah, that too.”

  They took a few more steps, then Aria’s smile shifted a bit. She looked at him, interested by the tone. “So… what’s our next move?” Kaiser froze. His confidence, which had been holding firm,?crumbled when faced with the weight of her question. “Uh…”

  Like a bad piece of comic relief, his stomach gurgled loudly, breaking the silence like a knife. Aria paused, her eyes growing wide, before she erupted into laughter. “You haven’t eaten?” she inquired, half laugh, half worry.

  Kaiser scratched the back of his head, his face hot. “Not in over two days. I, uh, didn’t get a chance?to…” He faltered, realizing how stupid he sounded.

  Aria smirked, crossing her arms. “Well, you’re in luck. I’ve got plenty of spider flesh stored back in the forest. It’s chewy, but it’ll keep you alive.”

  Kaiser’s face twisted in horror, and he stepped back as if she’d suggested he eat poison. “Spider flesh? No way. Absolutely not. I’d rather starve myself for a thousand years then eat those little freaks.”

  Aria shrugged, a mischievous smile?crossing her lips. “Suit yourself. I survived on it for more than a year, you know. Not bad if you can get over the texture. Very… uh, earthy.”

  “Earthy?” Kaiser repeated, his voice climbing in disbelief. “Aria, that’s not food! That’s—”

  “Survival,”?she interrupted, her tone suddenly more grave. “And if you get hungry enough, you’d never believe what you’d be willing to eat.”

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  He grimaced but didn’t argue. Instead, he sighed and shook his head. “Let’s just agree we can find real food. Perhaps something?that doesn’t have eight legs.”

  Aria?laughed, her voice playful again. “Fine. But the nearest city is three days’ walk away. You think you can survive that long without eating?” Kaiser just sighed, but smiled and nodded.

  She laughed again, the sound light and genuine. For a moment, the weight of the graveyard, the loss, and the absurdity of their situation seemed to lift.

  “Okay,”?Kaiser said, gesturing to the far horizon. “Three days to the city. Let’s go! And just for the?record, no spiders on the route. Not even as snacks.”

  “No promises,” Aria said, smirking, as she walked after him.

  Slowly, with each step Kaiser felt the chill in the air begin to dissipate, replaced by the faint, earthy warmth of the field ahead. The transition from tombstones to trees was subtle at first—blades of grass pushing up through the gravel path, gnarled roots snaking toward the edges of the graves.

  Still, during the long and silent walk, there was something eating away at him, a question he had been avoiding but just had to ask.

  He looked at Aria, walking next to him, calm as always, her eyes firmly shut, masking everything. She did this with such confidence, such precision, that it was hard to believe she could see at all. He opened his mouth to speak, hesitated, and then blurted it out anyway. “Aria… how do you see?”

  She tilted her head, as though surprised by the question. “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve been guiding me through spaces I would get lost in. You strolled through that cemetery without a worry on your face, you guided us out of that damn forest in less than a day… You even were alert to the death fairies before me and you even found the gravestones of your parents in this endless sea of tombs.”

  He fell silent, gesturing in vague outlines toward her closed eyes. Aria’s mouth twisted into a faint smile, but there was a shadow of something else in her face — sadness, or maybe resignation. “I share my vision with the spiders I control,” she said matter-of-factly. “I see the world through them.”

  Kaiser blinked, his feet stuttering a little. “You… share their vision? All of them? Every spider?”

  Aria shook her head. “No, that’s impossible. I can handle a maximum of three at once. Anything above that would be… overwhelming.” Kaiser nodded slowly, scrambling to process the concept. It all made sense now — the precision, the awareness. He frowned, his curiosity trumping his unease. “So, those spiders… the ones with the blue backs? The ones that resemble eyes?”

  At his words, two small shapes dropped from the canopy above, landing gracefully on Aria’s shoulders. The spiders with shimmering blue markings crawled toward her face, moving with a kind of purpose that sent a shiver down Kaiser’s spine. Before he could react, the spiders climbed into her empty sockets and nestled inside.

  Kaiser took an involuntary step back, his stomach twisting. He’d seen her eyeless face before, but now, with the spiders in place, she looked almost… human. The blue markings on the spiders glowed faintly, blending seamlessly with her features and making her look like a regular girl, even if Kaiser knew for the better.

  Her look, though synthetic, felt authentic. Alive. “Better?” she asked gently, tilting her head.

  Kaiser swallowed hard, forcing himself to nod. “Yeah… better.”

  Her weak smile resurfaced then, but it took on an air of sadness. “I lost my eyes six months ago,” she said, her voice low. “It happened while I was in the house under the river of webs. I’d spent so many days in the dark, weaving and waiting, that I convinced myself I wouldn’t need to see. I thought… I thought it was easier that way.”

  Kaiser gazed at her, not knowing what to say. He could only picture what that must have meant — with so many spiders, living in darkness, hearing their incessant hum. “You chose to lose them?” he asked carefully.

  “Kind of,” she answered, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t know how much harm I was causing until I was too late. The darkness… it takes you. It causes you to forget the stuff that matters and the stuff that doesn’t. I thought that total darkness was something I deserved, and something that would make me forget…” Her words were heavy and raw.

  Kaiser looked at her, the dim radiance of the spiders in her sockets flickering an eerie but beautifully genteel light. “I don’t regret it,” she said after a long pause. “Not entirely. The spiders… They’ve infiltrated me. They’re my eyes, my mates, and until recently, my only friends.”

  Kaiser hesitated, then stepped closer, his voice low. “Aria… I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say, but… I’m sorry.”

  She looked at him, or rather, through him, with those glowing blue eyes. “Don’t be,” she said softly. “This is my life now. I’ve accepted it.”

  For a moment, neither of them spoke. The forest around them seemed quieter, as if holding its breath.

  Finally, Kaiser broke the silence with a weak chuckle. “Well, for what it’s worth… you’re the first person I’ve met who can say their eyes literally bug people out.”

  Aria blinked, then laughed—a real, genuine laugh that lit up her face. “You’re an idiot,” she said, shaking her head.