The War for Gaia

The War for Gaia something that excited Wyrm. He wanted to teach her how to destroy and when to destroy. He wanted to help her taste the sweetness of Oblivion. Weaver had no desire for such things, but she wanted revenge. Wyld had spurned her one time too many, and had struck her for her actions. Wyld constantly changed what Weaver shaped, and allowed Wyrm to destroy what she, herself, saw as perfection. So Weaver came up with a plan. Knowing of Wyrm’s desires, Weaver said that she wanted to learn from him, to be more like him. The notion appealed to Wyrm, and he came to her, eager to consummate their new relationship. He reached out to embrace Weaver, and instead found himself tangled in the webs she spun. Wyrm screamed, enraged by the betrayal, but no matter how hard he struggled he could not break free from the webs. Wyld tried to help, but was almost captured himself, as Weaver had learned new ways of spinning her webs. Unable to help, he could only watch as Weaver dragged Wyrm into her lair. Wyld looked to me, confused and hurt, and asked what he should do. I answered him in the only way I could. I said, “You must protect what you have made. Weaver will see everything locked in place, immobile and unchangeable. That will never do.” We looked down upon Gaia and saw that my prediction was already coming to pass. The Insects were growing in numbers, overwhelming the life that was on Gaia’s back, and would soon destroy everything. I turned to my children and asked that they stop the Insects… but that is a tale for after I have left. I am tired now. I must return to my place of rest. Listen well to your elders, know that I love you and always will. I ask much of you, my children, but what I ask is for the good of all. What I ask must be done if Gaia is to be saved. The War for Gaia The gathered children sighed, watching as the avatar’s host bodies broke apart once more. The Ananasi’s god left them, returning to her home. Their uninvited guest, the Nuwisha, gazed blankly at the teeming heap of spiders and drooled. It was obvious to all the others that he’d fled into his own mind seeking solace. Three separate mounds of spiders pulled slowly, tiredly away from each other, piling again into humanoid forms. Chitin resolved into flesh, and then a woman of striking beauty stepped away from her brethren into the circle of attentive listeners. She smiled over the gathered children, her eyes shining with an almost maternal spark. Though Ananasa was gone, her children sensed something of her presence lingering within the three who had joined to make her whole. When the woman began to speak, her voice confident and powerful despite the slight tremor in her limbs, the assembled spiderfolk all leaned in closer. From our earliest days we have served Queen Ananasa. She has been our connection to the forces that dictate the universe. In our beginnings, we actually did her bidding in the Umbra, the place where spirits dwell. The events she spoke of did take place, but not in weeks or years or even decades, but rather over the course of centuries. We were among Ananasa’s builders. As spirits we helped weave the very universe around us, forming or defining the lives that exist even today. The Mother-Queen made us to aid her in her work, just as the Weaver made her to assist in shaping the universe. Our spirits were made to balance, to bring order to the universe, just as many of the spirits serving the Weaver were made for the same purpose. But when the first of the Changing Breeds were created, we were taken aside, placed out of harm’s way by the Mother, and given new instructions. Just as our physical counterparts were made to watch over the insects and keep them from growing too greedy, we were remade for a similar purpose. The First Circle Most people — both human and otherwise — believe that our kind originated in the lands known as Africa. This is the truth, and it is a lie as well. When our most blessed of mothers, the great Queen Ananasa, was placed in her jail, she began to understand the insanity of her creator and captor. In her understanding, she began searching for the means to reach the outside, and bring sanity to the insane. From her cell, she sought a place outside of the direct control of The Weaver, or even her siblings Wyrm and Wyld, to sow her seeds of the future. This world is that place, and we, her children, are those seeds. When she first touched this world, there was no place called Africa, nor did the same location have a different name. No, our kind is far older than that. When Ananasa first touched the world, it was a simple place, with only one land. That place had no name, it was simply the Land. Today, historians refer to it as Pangæa. The name suits it; it perfectly describes our view of the world of the past — and the world of the future — with its meaning, “a unified Earth-Mother.” Where precisely did we begin? Nowhere famous. The Simyan Mountains are a moderately sized range that cut along the coast of our ancestral continent. It was here that Ananasa first placed us on the Earth to serve her. Deep within the bowels of those hills, in caves that were then and may still be unsullied by human eyes, one spider grew into many. And that spider became a beast to rival any that walked the world. That simple creature moved up out of the dark and began to feed on the very creatures that once fed upon it. Some will tell you that it was a male, while others will insist that it was a female. What must be remembered is the one simple truth: it was the first. Gender is irrelevant. Without one, the other would have no role in Ananasa’s plans. I can tell you this much for certain: that one, the very first of our kind, was called Anansi. Shortly thereafter, Anansi began to breed, and the Ananasi were no longer an idiosyncrasy, but a force to be feared. To answer the next question on your mind, no, we were not the first. We came after Brother Mokolé and Brother Rokea, but before all the others. Like our earlier brothers, we