Chapter Text
Rare are the times when the Colosseum, as grand and expansive as it is, is packed wall to wall.
Rarer still are the times when the Colosseum is so full of bugs that Little Fool has to start turning them away, else they’ll fall into the fighting pit themselves and meet an untimely end. And that would be bad for its reputation, indeed - of course, bugs go there to die, but death is strictly voluntary in the Blackwyrm’s shed shell.
Today, the Colosseum of Fools is positively overflowing. Fools and fighters jostle for seating as wanderers and warriors shout bets over the clamor. Thieves and pickpockets dart in and out of the crowd (but never really out- it’s far too large for that) and leave chaos in their wake. Bugs of all shapes and sizes have come to watch, kicking up a storm in the cavea.
Among them a dreamer, a bug cloaked in red, a small group of fleas. A white knight and a fisher, a god and a queen. And rather strangely, a few strands of silk. (And countless others, of course. This is possibly the most exciting event either Hallownest or Pharloom have seen in ages.)
Far below, hidden just out of sight, the stars of the show prepare to duel. The first, a form spun purely from silk. The second - their mother - a higher being herself.
An unusual match indeed.
The audience roars as the two face each other. Phantom is tense, apprehension showing clear in every strand of their silk. Their longpin is newly polished for the event, the point sharp and gleaming. They’ve even taken the time to comb their long tailcoat of loose threads, readying it for the fight in hopes it might lend them speed, no matter how miniscule the increase.
Grand Mother Silk’s blank face shows nothing.
Lord Fool himself (somehow alive and well through unexpected turns of fate no bug in either Hallownest of Pharloom can even hope to understand) manages to rise from his seat, a small feat in itself. The old bug is as bulky as ever from nothing but lounging on his seat, and spittle flies from his mandibles as his voice booms through the arena.
“Today we have a vengeance match. Two fighters, both from Pharloom-” Lord Fool pauses, giving the audience a moment to mutter among themselves. “A mother and her child. How strange. How EXCITING!” The audience roars again. “What could possibly have driven them to blows? I don’t particularly care. FIGHT!”