A haunting green island. A stand of trees known as the Golden Grove. In the moonlit darkness, the webs gleam faintly, stirring in the warm night breeze. Arachne and the women sit at their looms around the Grove, weaving tapestries from the silk of the golden spiders, tapestries of life and time, clarity and light, the pattern of their world...
But the Grove is dying.
The spiders are sick - their offspring disfigured, their webs malformed. The mysterious aura is waning, the peace and harmony fading. Shadow falls over Island, strange ships are seen on the horizon, and Arachne fears that the pattern is about to change...forever.
But the Grove is dying.
The spiders are sick - their offspring disfigured, their webs malformed. The mysterious aura is waning, the peace and harmony fading. Shadow falls over Island, strange ships are seen on the horizon, and Arachne fears that the pattern is about to change...forever.
