The Lordly Spider
The spider spun its webs quietly in the background as it always had. Patterns and routines indecipherable to outsiders laid themselves out neatly and cleanly within the vision of the spider. It toiled and intertwined, plotted and wove. Ceaselessly and tirelessly, the spider crept ever onward. It had witnessed all that had passed, it was prepared for all that would come. Or so it thought.
The first vibrations of long abandoned webs barely drew the attention of the forward-focused spider. Ghosts of the past rattling within their cocoons were not of enough concern to stall its time-sensitive schemes. With not but a mild twitch to give away the fact it had even noticed, the dauntless arachnid marched onward.
A brief phantom of a thought flew through its rapid-fire brain: Perhaps it ought to look back. Was something of note taking place behind it within the gossamer fibers woven intricately so very long ago? As quickly as the thought came, the spider dismissed it. Those paths had already been explored and well-traveled. There could not possibly be anything worthy of taking attention away from its present and future machinations.
With grace and precision, the wicked spider kept at its art. For truly, it was art. Others may not believe such, but others also lacked the scope of the spider's vision. Without the godlike perspective of the spider, the individual pieces and threads likely seemed to be a lot of nothing. The proud arachnid knew better, however. Its masterpieces were legendary in their quality. If others could but grasp that knowledge, they would be humbled in the presence of all that the spider wrought.
Onward, forever onward. Even the spider's downtime was factored carefully into the details. All on schedule, all as planned, all exactly as the spider intended it to be. All but the shimmering of frost that skimmed along the surface of forgotten webs, creeping nearer and nearer to the diligent spider. So subtle and refined was the escalation of the frost, that even the cunning spider noticed nothing.
Haughtily, the creature continued its ministrations. At last, the spider moved to step back and admire its handiwork. But wait, what was this? The spider remained rooted to the spot. It knew without a shred of doubt that it had not become caught in its own webs. It would never make an amateur mistake such as that. Peering downward, the spider discovered to its shock – and wasn't feeling shock a surprise all its own – that it was trapped within a layer of ice that encroached upward treacherously. Perplexed, the spider finally glimpsed back.
Stationed upon ancient webs that now glittered innocuously, stood a pristine figure radiating in the gleam of his own power. Lush, pale pink lips exhaling dainty puffs of fog pulled upward into a fierce grin. The spider felt as though its insides were freezing over as it found itself trapped within the piercing, icy gaze of the frightful and majestic being it has mistakenly discounted many ages ago. Ever astute, the spider realized its error, but knew full well that its fate now belonged to another.
"Such divine webs you have spun, little spider. Kingdoms rise and fall with the tide of your whims. So sure of yourself, you deemed my story already written and moved on to the next as you are always wont to do, flighty creature that you are. Even you are capable of mistakes, my beloved rogue. All that you are, and will ever be belongs to me, dear sinner."
Resolved to these unforeseen circumstances, the spider bent to its knees as best it could bound up in ever thickening ice. Dismayed though it was to have made such an obvious, yet catastrophic error, it was a wise enough being to know it would find no escape from the fate it had brought upon itself. This unfortunate creature would control its own destiny again only when (and if) the icy barbs around its king's heart thawed enough to set it free. This was a lesson the spider would never forget; and should it even try, its king would gladly remind it.