The Porchlight Prophecies

By Dustin Smith

 Book Three: The Ivory Basins of the Quintlight

1. The Canyon of Nobug

 The spider's anger effervesced as the Sea of Brown became a large river without name. Canyon walls rose from the vertical lands of the Everlight. But the Everlight was little more than a dwindling memory. Darkness enshrouded the two companions like a cocoon that promised death instead of rebirth. There was not a meal in sight, and despite Octavian's fury, his hunger soon conquered his mood.

Janice, on the other side of the raft, had become more livid, knowing they were nearing his homeland. The spider tiresomely watched the silverfish scoop a ball of dust, or debris, from the river with his tail and drain what little starch he could find. His feeding was without end as though he were catching-up with his starvation during his imprisonment. His sleek build began to thicken, and color sprang forth, not stopping as the metallic luster that provided ample light for the dark journey ahead, but continuing to cast a brilliant aura around the silverfish that spoke of undisputed nobility and rapture.

It sickened the spider, as had everything about this messiah of silverfish. Octavian thought back to how Janice had quieted the dissenters at Mothinian's throne. From there, Janice had quickly explained the contradictions in the oracle and set everyone's mind at ease. They had set sail within ten minutes.

"I notice a pattern in our two voyages, Janice," Octavian said. His tone was cordial as he tried to hide the loathing he felt.

"And what would that be?" Janice asked behind an oral cavity of starch and dust.

"Well, during our first sail, you were too weak to help, always dosing and meditating."

"Yes."

"Now you feast."

"Yes."

"But you're still not helping me!"

"There's no need to be angry, my good spider. You see, I'm not intended for manual labor. My father built homes in the tunnels and pipeways of my people. I helped him in my youth until one day I went to the Ritual Meeting Pavilion and argued with the elders. I had them baffled. Everyone knew then and there I was meant for more."

"Swell story, you lazy bum, but it still doesn't change the fact that I'm doing all of the sailing. And on an empty digestive track, I might add."

"What are you saying?"

"You're lazy! Get up and help or you can kiss your raft goodbye." Octavian shifted his weight threateningly, rocking the raft.

"You wouldn't dare," Janice frightfully hissed.

"Oh? You see, my good bit of feculent matter," Octavian said, imitating his companion flawlessly, "I'm not afraid of this fuzzy mush of dead grass we're sailing on. I walked across the Sea of Brown before I found you."

"But I can't. T'would ruin my baptism." Janice laughed nervously.

The spider delighted in hearing this. "Baptism, eh? What for? So they can have another story about you? You know, I've a similar story about a colony of ants preparing for winter and a grasshopper who wasn't intended for menial labor."

"Spare me, brother. There is no such thing as winter. 'Tis but a flippant myth you Outside-dwellers perpetuate to instill your superiority on those who live closer to the Great Being."