"I had heard of her, of course, Goddess Skitter, Spirit of Nature, benevolent and merciful, and I had heard of her dark robes, to hide her face, to protect her body. At last, her pilgrim went towards us…" Mumbia of Funke.

Taylor held the silk up. It took the better part of a week to finish the new costume, more elaborate than the old one with some of the better silk of the local spider population. The king gave her a room where she could work on this, but ultimately, it was she who would have to color it.

There were only a few colors available. She honestly didn't care that much anymore, but red was the only choice between a bright yellow and a strange kind of green she never wanted to look at again. A lot of things in Elamia were red, and yes, it was actually a symbol for blood.

While the new mask didn't look very different from the old one, even though the lenses were missing, it was painted in the dark red dye she was given. She would keep the old costume in reserve, of course, but this one seemed a bit sturdier, not that she wanted to test it out for now.

She locked the door and started to take off the comfortable robes, putting on her costume, leaving the mask in the bag. If it had been this easy making one before, she would have three of them. Admittedly, now she had some experience at it, though. The new costume fit perfectly. She put the old clothes into one of the silken bags before slinging it over her shoulder.

There had been an agreement with Khalil for years now, allowing her passage towards Pavilion, like every other person, no matter the nationality. One of the king's ships would wait there, but the first stop would have to be Funke, around the same distance away from here as Qurt, towards the north-west.

Unlocking the door again and stepping out, she made a beeline for the dining room, where Amal was waiting for her, sitting in front of a feast. Despite not feeling very hungry, she sat down next to her, and moments later, before she had the time to even say something, both Aaron and Moses stepped through another door.

"Good morning, Skitter." Moses bowed, while Aaron gave a respectful nod. "And good morning, high priestess."

"Good morning," both of them mumbled back. Taylor waited until both of them were seated before speaking up again. "Where is King Amram?"

"He hasn't been feeling well lately," Moses explained. "I fear for him, his old age is catching up, and he feels that he has still so much to teach me."

"Ah," Taylor said, looking at the table. Of course, she couldn't imagine what she would feel like if her father was dead, and considering the month she has been around here, she didn't even know how he reacted to her vanishing. "I hope he feels better soon."

"Do not fret," Moses said. Aaron seemed content to let his brother speak, filling his plate meanwhile. "Your visit has fulfilled him, it is I that he is worried about. What kind of king will I be for the people? He will always be King Amram the Pious."

Amal tapped Taylor's arm slightly while Moses was talking, making her look to her. She subtly nodded towards Aaron, who seemed to grow more agitated as the rather loud monologue of Moses went on.

"I am worried that I will be a no-good king," Moses eventually finished, making Aaron slam his hand on the table. Amal jumped slightly, while Moses looked at his brother, curious.

"Talking like that makes you unfit to be a king," Aaron said. "What would father say if he heard you? He would just fall over dead, because you broke his heart!"

Moses' eyebrows rose at the vehemence in his brother's words.

Taylor knew she could end this conversation immediately if she wanted, but it wasn't really her business. She hadn't been wearing the mask for the past week, so most of the castle staff was already familiar with her, even though most people in the streets still didn't know it was her when she came to visit.

"I do not believe a king has to be certain of everything he does," Moses said. "Having worries and doubts will make one cautious."

"And a king too cautious will bring us to ruin! The only thing that stopped the war we were winning to reclaim the entire island was the empire, what will you do as a king? We have soldiers, trained and ready, we have the means to fight this war."

"We have the patriots," Moses said. "But I do not have the spirit in me to command men to die. The empire-"

"Will not care about us fighting as long as the tribute is paid, and we have more than enough food to feed half of them while not starving here," Aaron interrupted. "But if we do not strike first, then we will be destroyed as soon as you ascend the throne!"

"I am sure the gods will protect the pious," Moses said.

"The gods are gone!" Aaron slammed his hand on the table again, standing up and knocking over his chair. "And all we have is a woman who travels around and will leave you as soon as she has found the others."

Taylor coughed, loudly, drawing the attention of both men towards her.

"I'm here," she said, her tone flat. "And I would appreciate it if you don't talk as if I'm not."

"I… apologize," Aaron said.

"Don't worry, I know you don't mean it," Taylor shrugged. Aaron grimaced. "I appreciate all you've done for me, and I'm glad that I could find a place with so many wonderful people, and while I would prefer not to meddle in the politics of some country I don't belong to, war isn't a solution."

"Good luck stopping it then, Strife be damned," Aaron muttered. Taylor narrowed her eyes.

She might have the power to stop it, but the measures would be drastic. It would involve threatening every other nation, and who knows if they don't have a cape of their own hidden somewhere, who might beat her own power.

"Let's go, Amal," Taylor said, standing up. Moses did too, but Taylor's stare sent him sitting back down. Amal followed her out of the dining room, down the halls before sighing in relief.

"It fits you," Amal said, looking at the costume. Changing the topic was good.

"Thanks," Taylor said. "I'm not really sure about red, I liked it darker. Are you sure this won't be some kind of proof of allegiance or something?"

"Red is a fashionable color." Amal shrugged. "It's not just the color of Elamia."

"Alright," Taylor said. "I'd prefer if we could hurry - grab horses and supplies and leave without guard. The king agreed after a bit of talking."

"Are you sure? What if... "

"Don't worry, it's unlikely we are going to meet someone like that again."

Taylor opened the door to her room and grabbed a few more bags on the table, stuffing them all together into the bag with the clothes. She wasn't a fan of riding horses, but riding a carriage was even worse on the long run. These people need cars, dammit. Bugs alerted her to someone approaching.

When she opened the door, Moses stood there, looking apologetic, his hand in the air to knock.

"I hope you are not leaving this early because of us," he said. Taylor shook her head.

"Better leave in the morning, so we can make haste," Taylor said. Amal was still packing some things up behind her.

"Very well, I wish to give you a gift, though, something to keep you safe," he said, grabbing a small sword from his sheath was in a similar color as her new costume.

"That's… kind," Taylor said, softly grasping the sword. At least a weapon, though she really had no idea how to use as word. It was like a big knife, mostly, cut and stab, right?

"Let me grab the horses, I will let you finish here," he said, smiling at Amal behind her and leaving.

"I think he likes you," Taylor said.

"Ha-ha," Amal laughed flatly, the three light bags on her back. "Can the horses even carry all this?"

"They should," Taylor said. "The clothes are easy enough, we are only going to take enough food and water until we reach Funke."

"Okay." Amal nodded. "Shall we go then?"

"Lets."

Taylor put on her mask before leaving the castle, still a bit weirded out by the lack of lenses and glasses she needed to wear. Moses stood there with two horses, supplies strapped to them.

"Thank you," Taylor said, mounting the horse. Moses helped Amal up hers, the bags slung over their backs instead of attaching them to the horses. "Good luck."

Moses bowed as they left.

The people stood in lines, the streets wide open, as they rode through, waving and saying goodbye. Word must have gotten around about them leaving, and the people didn't want to miss it.

The uncomfortable feeling of being on a horse was forgotten when she used her bugs to distract herself.

Hours later, when the sun went down, they came to a halt. There wasn't a lot of time to talk on the horses, especially when traveling quickly. For once, Taylor enjoyed a bit of silence.

When they were resting near the river, sitting down with the horses bound on a tree and setting up a small camp, Taylor took off her mask and laid down on the floor.

"I really don't like horses," she said.

"You said that you used something different, right?"

"Yeah." Taylor nodded. "Cars. Much more comfortable, much faster too."

"Your home sounds like a great place." Amal drew her knees up to her face as she sat down next to Taylor.

"It has its faults," Taylor explained. "But it's home. I miss my friends, my father."

"Say," Amal started, but stopped when Taylor's eyes moved to her. She opened her mouth slightly, attempting to say something, but all that came out were small noises.

"What is it?" Taylor asked.

"It's…" Amal put her face in between her knees. She mumbled something.

"Yes? You have to speak up." Taylor smiles at her. Amal kept her face hidden.

"What will you do when you find your friends?" Amal asked. Taylor raises an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?"

"You're going to leave, right?" Amal said, hesitantly looking up. "Go back home to those cars, to those shampoos, with your friends and your father…"

"Ah," Taylor said. "That's… likely, yes."

"Isn't there anything to convince you to stay?" Amal asked. "Anything that would keep you here? The people would give you anything you wish for!"

"Look, Amal," Taylor began, sighing. "I like it here. I really do, but this isn't where I should be. There are people over there who need me."

"Then let me come with you," Amal said, standing up suddenly and holding a hand to her chest. "I shan't disappoint you."

"Amal, please," Taylor said. "This is your home, you shouldn't throw away everything you know just for me."

"You are everything I know," Amal said. "I read and read, I prayed and learned all there is in the hopes of meeting you, and you are everything I expected, and so much more…"

"That's not who I am, though." Taylor shook her head. "But you won't believe me. For you, I'm a god, but I'm not someone for religion."

"We already talked about that, didn't we? Cultural differences, you might call each other differently…"

"It's just not realistic," she said. "Four-hundred years. I don't think I traveled that far into the future, or if your history books are lacking important information, but I'm human. I've always been, I will grow old, I will die."

Amal looked down, her face back in between her knees as she avoided eye contact.

"I don't care," she said. "For me, you are the greatest. You are a god. It's true what they say, gods are selfish."

"Maybe." Taylor shrugged. "But I never asked for anyone to treat me differently, people did on their own."

"You are just going to leave me alone." Amal's voice was a bit squeaky.

Taylor wasn't sure what to say as she looked at Amal, who proceed to quietly shake. She had avoided thinking about the topic for a rather long time. There were also the alternatives- what if they ended up like the Travelers, without a way home? The only way would be to hope that Labyrinth and Scrub were here too, and for all she knew she was alone...

The alternative to saying something that would just make the situation worse was to say nothing.

So Taylor just laid there until the next morning.

"Who approaches the gates of Funke?" a man on the top of the walls shouted. A large four-pointed star at the gates, with two smaller ones in the upper right and lower left corner, stood out the most. A symbol she saw branded on the armor as well.

Amal moved up with the horse.

"The merciful spirit Skitter, arriving from Elamia to proceed her pilgrimage towards Pavilion."

The gates couldn't have opened quicker when Taylor began swirling a few bugs around her to give back up Amal's words. The city reminded her of Friede, houses out of cut stone mostly, with large towers around it. Instead of an idol, though, the statue in the middle of the city was a three dimensional version of the symbol on the gates.

The people stared as they rode further into the city, some bowing, some waving.

"The symbol is in honor to Iblis," Amal explained. She didn't seem to take what happened a few days ago too hard anymore, and instead took the time she had with Taylor as more enjoyable.

"We need to find a place to sleep and resupply," Taylor said. I will look for the latter, can you try not to be attacked by people in the next inn?"

Amal went a bit red and stepped off her horse. "I'll try."

A man, maybe as old as Amram and with a beard that reached to his chest, stepped up after Amal left to find a place to stay. He bowed slightly, using his cane to right himself up again and looked up to her. She stepped off the horse.

"Welcome to Funke," the man says. "I am the eldest of the city, benevolent Skitter, and extend an invitation to you. The elders of Funke would like to have a word."

"About?"

"What lies ahead," the man said.

"That's not very forthcoming."

The man smiled. "We only have a few pleasures as we grow old, Goddess."

Taylor grinned despite herself.

"Okay then. Let's wait until my companion comes back."

An hour later they were seated in one of the larger homes, with a lot of old people sitting around the table with them.

"Why did I even make an effort to look for a place?"

"Don't worry, I didn't expect anyone to invite us."

"You should, that's what always happens, remember?"

"Point."

"Welcome," the old man from before said. The other people repeated after him. "We are gathered here today to talk about the future, and what lies ahead. We have heard of your deeds great spirit, but we are worried."

"About what?" Taylor asked.

"About the princes," he said. "Prince Moses and Prince Aaron are as different as day and night, and we know that you know both of them as well as we do."

"So what?" Taylor put an arm on the table, leaning on it. "It's not my concern, is it?"

"It might become such," he said. "You know the legends of course, you must, don't you?"

"I'm not really sure what people say about us around here." Taylor shrugged.

"Then let me explain," the old man sighed. Amal was staring at him, very attentive. "We will be honest… we do not trust Prince Aaron. He is hot-headed, aggressive and generally disliked by the people of the kingdom, and he was at the library here just recently to check up on a certain book, a legend, nothing more, but the content…"

"Get to the point, please," Taylor said. Better he finishes before he keels over.

"In the old legend, it is stated, that he whose hand laid a god to rest, shall receive their power and become a god."

Amal gasped, while Taylor crossed her arms and leaned back. People killing capes to get powers? Nah.

"Really? Is that the exact wording?" Taylor asked. The man shook his head.

"I sense you are not familiar with the writings of human hands, Viri the Savant has gathered all the legends before he ascended," the man said. She still didn't learn his name. "The exact words are 'You who enters the Gods' domain and spill the blood of the deities shall be granted their power, but learn that you deserve none of it, and die out of shame."

"Goddess, please," Amal said, tapping her on the arm. "This is serious, it's not something we can ignore!"

"So you think he might try to kill me?" Taylor asked. "That's a very serious accusation for the prince, isn't it?"

"It is highly likely, indeed," the man nodded, and the others around him began to chatter. "And you might be right, but we are not so gullible as to believe that monarchs are infallible."

The crowd on the table became louder, and Taylor could see worry on each of their faces.

"It'd be really hard to sneak up on me, though, you know?" she tried. "And I don't really have the feeling that he would try to kill me, it's not going to give him powers anyway."

"Are you not worried that he might get the drop on you?" Amal asked. Taylor could hear her approach that point again, from three nights ago, when her voice started to be a bit higher.

"Like I said, hard to sneak up on me, and he's still in Elamia while we are going to Pavilion."

"Then let me offer you something to protect you, at least," the man said, standing up.

"I'm not taking another sword," Taylor said, indicating to the red sheath that she left near the wall, the sword grip sticking out.

"It's this," he said, bringing out a small vial. "An antidote for all the poisons that are, brewed under the sight of Iblis, made from the best healers of the kingdom."

"And what if that is poisoned?" Amal asked, paranoid. The man shrugged, opening the vial and just drank a sip. That might actually be helpful if it did what he said. She took the vial from him.

"Thank you," Taylor said.

"A man who approaches with no sword in his hands has two hidden behind his back," the man said as servants came in and brought food. "And while Aaron is not someone we trust, he is not someone who would foolishly jump into battle.

Taylor shrugged again. "I'm still not convinced, but I will keep that in mind."