A/N Hey there! Thanks for coming back to read another of my Tardigrade entries. This week the theme was Leaping - in one way or another. I've decided to go with the proverbial leap. :) This story is a retelling of a Greek myth. I have to admit I kind of forgot to admit humour to the story, which was recommended in the prompt... But I like the way this story came out, so I decided to keep it this way. Enjoy!

Afraid of spiders, are you? Let me tell you a story, child, of how the first spider came to be.

It was a long, long time ago. When I was a little boy, growing up in the land called Lydia, I used to spend my days playing with wooden swords. I triumphed over any and all of the other children who challenged me, even those twice or thrice my age. It wouldn't be long before I would have challenged the adults, too. The soldiers, guards, and other warriors. And once I'd defeated them, I would've moved on to even greater creatures, to eventually end up challenging the Gods themselves.

I thank my lucky stars it didn't come to that.

One day, my mother took me to the other side of town, to see the most famous person that had ever been born in our little corner of the world. Her name was Arachne. She was a spinster. Her hands weaved the most beautiful tapestries us mortals had ever laid our eyes on. She crafted images that seemed to move on the tapestry; roaring lions, fluttering butterflies, leaping kangaroos.

As we watched her, the people around us screamed compliments at her, and she gobbled them up like a frog would a passing swarm of flies. She boasted about her weaving skills the same way I'd boasted about my swordfighting skills, saying she was better than anyone else in the world.Better even than the Gods? somebody shouted.

Arachne's eyebrows raised, her smile never wavering. Of course, said Arachne, unable to back down. I am the best spinster in all the worlds. Even that of the Gods.

A crash like thunder was heard and the next thing we knew, the radiant, grey-eyed Goddess Athena stood in front of Arachne, staring down at her. Is that so? Her voice hit my ears the way the sun might hurt your eyes if you looked straight at it. Athena challenged Arachne to a contest - to clear up once and for all who was the better spinster.

As you might imagine, both their resulting tapestries were divine. Still, there was one clear winner. Such a good spinster Arachne was, that her skills surpassed even that of a Goddess.

Athena was furious. She shrieked so loudly everyone scrambled to get away. My mother wrapped her arms around me. When she stopped, the air was still. It was as if the world had stopped turning for a heartbeat. Athena stood towering over Arachne's tapestry, a satisfied smirk on her face. On the tapestry crawled a little creature like I'd never seen before. It was an insect, for sure, but it looked more like a scorpion with eight legs and no claws. That will teach you to defy your Gods, said Athena.

I remember clearly people's gasps at what they witnessed. Arachne had won the contest. She should have been rewarded for her exceptional skills, yet the Goddess still punished her.

Athena disappeared in an instant, but she left something behind. A bitter taste. Ever since that day, Lydia has only done the bare minimum in worshipping Athena, until they stopped honouring her entirely. We took to other Gods - Gods who would be fair and just, rather than those who act on impulse, those who leap without looking.

And me? I stopped boasting the way I had before, so that I wouldn't make the same mistake Arachne had.

Well, would you look at that? Your spider has disappeared. It must've smelled your hostility and leaped to safety.