Nova Macknik-Conde

The Weaver's Tale

2023 5th & 6th Grade Prose Winner

     My shuttle flashed over the loom, as a forest of oaks formed before my eyes. Once I finished the green-and-gold canopy, I added a pond to the landscape, with a beautiful dryad sitting on the edge and dipping her toes in the water.

     A small crowd had gathered to watch. My tapestries were highly valued, but it brought me joy to give them away to those who could not afford them. I threw the finished tapestry to the onlookers and a little girl caught it and hugged it to her chest. She then showed it to her mother. I looked away, afraid I would start crying if I continued to watch. My parents had died when I was a child, and I had last seen my sister many years ago, but the pain was fresh as ever.

     The mother glanced up and said, “Athena herself must have taught you. You are almost as talented as her!” 

     My bittersweet mood evaporated. “Athena? She has never done anything for me. She cursed my older sister, Irene, and turned her into the Sphinx!”

     The woman tilted her head, confused.

     “Athena was disguised as a lost child,” I continued. “I went to search for her mother while Irene thought to distract her with a game of riddles. Irene told Athena her favorite riddle first. ‘Which is the creature that has one voice, but has four feet in the morning, two feet in the afternoon, and three feet at night?’ ‘A man,’ Athena answered easily. Irene was surprised that a young girl could be so wise but decided to entertain her with another riddle. That was her gravest mistake.

     "The woman in the crowd inhaled sharply and whispered, “I’m sorry.” The child hid her face in the folds of her mother’s peplos.

     “This was my sister’s second favorite riddle,” I glowered. “She made it up to try to make me laugh after our parents died.”

     “‘There are two sisters; one gives birth to the other, who in turn gives birth to the first. Who are they?’ Irene asked. Athena was baffled, and in a fit of rage at being stumped by a mere mortal, she showed her true form and twisted Irene into a monster, sentenced to guard the city of Thebes.”

     The woman looked to her feet. “I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

     “Irene still waits at the gates, asking all travelers the riddles she once told Athena,” I continued. “If they cannot answer, she must devour them. My sister prays that one day, a traveler will be ingenious enough to guess right, so she is released from her cursed prison in death. If you think Athena is so wonderful, tell her to come see me to find out who the better weaver is.”

     The woman glanced up at me. “Tonight, in my prayers, I will tell Athena of your challenge.”

     I smiled, already starting to dye the wool for my next tapestry. It would portray day and night, the two sisters that give birth to one another—the answer to Irene’s second riddle.

***

     An aged woman walked in. “Why, hello, dearie! The news of your contest with Athena has spread all over Lydia!”

     I raised my eyebrow. “It has?”

     The old woman tucked a silver lock behind her ear. “You know, child, you shouldn’t challenge the gods. They have powers far beyond your imagination. It won’t end well for you.”

     I took a deep breath. “Please go and let me finish my work.”

     “Oh, but you’re the one that invited me here,” said the old woman. A blinding light shone around her, and she became young and tall. She had a beautiful, elaborate helmet, and a set of armor decorated with owls and snakes and depictions of looms and generals planning for war. A snake was curled around her neck and an owl was perched on her left shoulder. She carried a spear in her right hand and draped across her left arm was the Aegis, with the face of Medusa on it.

     I looked away so I wouldn’t turn to stone. “Athena.”

     “Darling Arachne, are you ready for the silliest contest ever?” Her voice imitated the old woman she had pretended to be.

     I clenched my fists. “If I win, you must reverse the curse you set on Irene.”

     Athena tilted her head. “Sure. But if I win, you will be punished. Agreed?”

     I nodded. “That seems fair. Would you like my spare loom, or have you one of your own?”

     Athena snickered. “I have my own loom. And I swear on the River Styx that I will judge fairly.” She waved her hand and her helmet and spear disappeared, and in their place was a bucket for dying wool, a shuttle, and an ornate wooden loom.

     “Let us get started!” I said, trying to keep my voice even. I decided to portray my sister, before Athena cursed her. One last reminiscence.

***

     Our two tapestries were portraits of my sister. But they couldn’t be more different from each other. Though I had represented my sister’s beautiful face and kind smile, Athena had depicted a monster—the Sphinx.

     Unfortunately, I couldn't see a single mistake in Athena’s tapestry.

     “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but they’re equal in quality,” said Athena. “And just so you know, your sister, the Sphinx, is dead. A traveler named Oedipus guessed both of her riddles.”

     I covered my mouth to block my scream. My sister was gone.

     “I can’t free her, but she is technically free already,” said Athena. “And I guess that we both won the contest. But for trying to outdo a goddess, I will curse you!”

     Athena threw her shuttle at me, and I felt myself growing smaller. I looked down and saw I had eight, black, hairy legs.

     Athena said in a merciless voice, “You are the first spider. You will live forever, and weave forever.”

     I scuttled up the wall, never to be seen again.

END