Spirit of Nature 4 - "She commanded the fireflies to dance, and the orphans laughed. She commanded it also, and orphanages were built for the children to live in." - Iman, scholar of the true faith, in her autobiography 'Where Our Hearts Lead Us'.
Taylor looked out through the narrow gap between the curtain and the window of her carriage as they trundled over the brick roads into Elamia. She had thought it would be confusing to have the capital named the same as the entire kingdom, but nobody else seemed to think so, and had simply chalked it up to "spirit nature". There were a lot of "spirit nature" things about Taylor, with a new one discovered for every day they'd spent on the road. The people were cheering raucously as they passed through, shouting victory chants; the contingent, after all, had obviously not taken a single loss from the expedition to Friede. Some of them pointed out Taylor's carriage with surprise or suspicion, but she wasn't worrying about that.
Instead, her bugs were already sweeping through the crowds and capital, building up a mental map for her of the people and buildings around it. Elamia (the capital, not the country) was even larger than Friede, and had occupied almost all of the horizon for a day or so of travel. She was looking forward to getting onto the ground and stretching her legs. Riding in a carriage for a week had not been an entirely comfortable experience, even if they had had daily breaks to water or feed the horses and rest.
The carriage took another turn, following Prince Aaron's carriage in separating from the main body of the army, and Taylor's jaw dropped open in awe. The road was wide enough for six or seven of the carriages, lined on either side by soldiers in gleaming burnished armour with weapons raised, and set amidst a gorgeous, painstakingly manicured lawn. Small animals grazed or romped through the lawn, with groundskeepers milling about, and above it all stood the castle. Easily as big as an office building but infinitely more beautiful, it was built of polished stone, reliefs carved into it depicting various scenes, and dotted with statuary. Atop it was a golden, onion-like dome, polished until it reflected the sunlight perfectly.
They stopped just inside the gate, and the prince of Elamia climbed out of his carriage to stand on its roof, making it an impromptu stage from which to address the crowd crushing against the gates of the royal compound.
"People of Elamia!" the prince shouted, his tone slightly nervous. "It was not me that freed Friede from the idolaters, but a spirit that descended!"
There was shocked silence, and then a babel of sound. People shouting to see it - her- or praying, muttering.
"She approached us and the sky was darkened, threatening us if we spilled blood on her sacred earth," he continued. "Goddess Skitter is a spirit of nature…"
As he went on, the cheers began building, drowning out any muttering to the contrary. Her bugs told her that the crowd of people was swelling, pulling people out of the surrounding streets to come to listen to the Prince's speech. She'd made a few speeches in her day, but nothing like this. She carefully thinned out the bugs she had amongst the citizens, just in case they made too noticeable a swarm - Prince Aaron had talked with her about it, on the way up. The need for a suitably dramatic reveal.
She took her attention off of him; Prince Aaron was in his element, and he didn't seem very much on the way to his grand announcement of her presence. Instead, she looked around the carriage and at the two girls with her. Amal was still not happy with Iman, glaring at the dark-skinned girl, but she hadn't started any fights. Iman, for her part, was doing her best to be Taylor's new enthusiastic puppy, which meant following her everywhere and asking her to keep telling her about the things she had done before going to Friede.
"Time to face the music then," Taylor said to herself, as Prince Aaron's voice died down and there was an expectant hush; to Amal and Iman, she said: "Come on, now." She called the insects out of the town, enveloping the carriage as she opened the door and stepped out into the midst of her swarm, the two girls behind her following immediately. The people of Elamia cheered - at least, the ones who didn't immediately gasp in fear and draw back - and Taylor smiled under her mask. Though she had gotten into the habit of staying unmasked with Amal and Iman, she had chosen to wear it for her first entrance to Elamia, where it was helping to hide her nervousness.
Aaron climbed down from his carriage roof after the people had had a decent amount of time to cheer, and proceeded to lead them towards the castle. It was both for image and for comfort - the people enjoyed seeing their royalty, and the roads were constructed in a way that would shake carriage-wheels badly. Behind them, the drivers took the carriages away, and the noise of the crowd's cheering slowly diminished. Ahead of them, the castle loomed, and as they approached it the guards standing on either side of the massive doors sprang to action and pushed the doors open.
They walked up the stairs, Amal and Iman all but clinging to Taylor's coat as they passed through the doors, past the saluting guards. For his part, Prince Aaron stepped smartly along the richly carpeted stone floors without pausing, or slowing down, leaving them to catch hurried glimpses of the castle's interior as they hurried along. They took a turn down a corridor, past rows of large paintings of stern people in regalia, and found themselves climbing up a flight of stairs. On the landing, positioned so that they would come face-to-face with it as they ascended, was the largest painting they'd seen yet. Stretching from the floor to somewhere a story or two up, it was the full-length image of a man in armour, a sword in his hand. The armour was scuffed and scratched, but polished with care; the cape he wore was short and had signs of having been mended. The man himself was black-haired but fair, and his scarred face was grim, staring down upon the viewer as if considering whether to use his sword on them. Taylor lingered there for a second, appreciating the man's physique.
"The painting of Eshmun," Amal whispered, mistaking Taylor's interest for… well, interest. "The first king of Elamia. It's the only painting made with him standing as a model, instead of descriptions."
Taylor admitted that he looked handsome, in a rough sort of way - Aaron, who still had her ire, didn't even look half as good as Eshmun's painting did.
His red eyes were a trait she had never seen outside of a parahuman, however.
"Let us proceed," Aaron said, a knight on his side. He led them towards a large room, two thrones at the end, with the coat of arms of the kingdom stitched on a giant cloth behind the seats.
A old man sat on one of the thrones, while the other was empty. The man looked as if he would break at the slightest touch, and it was difficult to believe he had a son who looked barely two years older than she did.
"Good day, grandfather."
Ah, so that's how.
"Welcome home, Aaron," the king said. "I was told… you brought a wonderful surprise to our capital."
"Yes," he said, glancing at Taylor with the first sign of nervousness he had shown since they entered Elamia. Taking the obvious hint, she stepped forward and nodded at the king; behind and around her, her cloud of insects fell to the ground in a long train, stretching from her feet to the door and almost to the stairs. "This is Skitter, spirit of nature. When I came to the idolaters of Friede, she had already come amongst them, and through her mercy, they were brought back to the truth, without bloodshed..."
The old man stared at Taylor for a long moment, then, gripping the arms of his throne, pushed himself up to a standing position. He took a step forward and began to sink to his knees. "O spirit, welcome to this kingdom and to this -"
"Get up!" Taylor interrupted before the old king could fall to the ground. "It's okay. I just need a favour from you."
King Amram's eyes widened and he went silent, and Prince Aaron rushed forwards to help the old king back onto his throne. "Anything, anything for the emissary of the gods," he croaked. "Speak and your humble servant shall see it done. On my throne and my kingship I swear it, be the consequences ever so severe." .
Well, this was it, then. "I was separated from my comrades," Taylor said.
Amran's grip on his throne tightened, and his throat worked as the old king tried to make an answer. "We - we welcome the spirits and the gods, and are their humble servants," he eventually said. "Wherever they may be or hail from..."
Taylor only nodded in reply. It would make things go more smoothly. "I am looking for them, and wanted to ask if the capital had men to spare, to search in the other villages and cities."
"In-indeed," said King Amran, pulling himself straight in his throne. "We will make the necessary arrangements - prepare the feasts - the spirits will once more rule the nation with justice and wisdom -"
"What? No!" Taylor interrupted. "I'm not here for the throne. I just want to find my comrades."
King Amran relaxed visibly. "All will be done in accordance to your will, o spirit." Turning to Prince Aaron, the old man's face became sterner. "Have the scouts sent out, my son, and let all Elamia know that the great spirit Skitter seeks her comrades." He paused, then, and turned his gaze back to Skitter. "There has not been one spirit seen on the earth in centuries, and now there are so many." He blinked, and Taylor realised his eyes were watering. "It is a joy to the heart of this old man…"
"Don't worry about it," she told him. "Thank you for your help - both of you. There's one more thing I need."
"Speak and it will be done," said King Amran. After a pause, Prince Aaron repeated the same sentence.
"My friend was injured in Friede," said Skitter, gesturing to Amal; though she had been fairly well treated and it had been a week or more since the stabbing attempt, Amal's arm had not fully recovered. "The healers of Friede have tried to help her, but you may have more skilful doctors."
King Amran turned his pale-eyed gaze on Prince Aaron, and the Prince stepped down from the dais on which the throne sat. "Fear not, grandfather," said the Prince, turning to face King Amran beside Skitter. "I will see to it that the spirit and her companions are treated full well. Pray excuse us now; we are only just returned from travel, and are foul and hungry."
King Amran raised a hand, smiling, and the audience was concluded. "I shall see you again, o spirit," he said. "If you have favour upon me and my house."
"Don't worry," said Taylor, nodding at him. "I'll come to see you again." She turned around then, following Prince Aaron out; Amal and Iman, for their parts, walked backwards out of the throne room, only turning around once they were out of it and the doors had been shut behind them.
Elamia was the darkest capital that Taylor had ever been in. Night had fallen, and the only lights about were the torches that stood on poles in the streets or were carried about by the guards, as well as some scant light that leaked through windows and the cracks of doorways. Not that Taylor needed lights by which to navigate, of course. She walked the streets of Elamia alone - Amal and Iman had been left in the castle with Prince Aaron's healers after dinner - and hummed softly to herself as her insects roamed and fed. Even with the torchlight around her, she could see the stars. Amal had taught her to identify a few of the constellations - Iblis' Belt, the Arms of Besi, the Great and Little Eagles -
There was a pattering of small feet as somebody ran out from inside an alley towards her. She didn't turn around immediately to face the small child, but stopped walking and humming to let him catch up to her. "Spirit!" shouted the boy.
She turned, then, and looked down at the child. He was maybe the same age as Hamilcar of Heth, but unlike Hamilcar, he was bloodied and dirtied, with streaks of mud on his face. His clothes had been torn and mended, and he was standing defiantly, hands balled into fists.
"Why?" he asked her.
Taylor stood impassively, watching him. She sensed adults and other children approaching them, and raised up her bugs to stop them in their tracks.
"Why did you take my sister?! And my parents?!" he shouted, trying to punch her. She simply moved out of the way, making the boy stumble. "She was eight! Why do you spirits always take our family!"
Taylor sighed, grimacing before kneeling down, not dodging the next punch. It landed on her shoulder pad, and hurt the boy's hand much worse than it did her. He withdrew, trying bravely not to look hurt.
"I didn't take your sister," Taylor said. "I'm sorry for your loss, but we don't decide when someone dies…"
"And yet you live in that palace," he said. "With the king and that stupid prince. The only one who even attempts to help us is prince Moses, but he has been gone for so long…"
"You are an orphan?" she asked. The boy made a noise that was somewhere between a sniffle and a grunt. "Don't you have orphanages?"
"Orphanages? What orphanages?" he snapped. "The orphans who can work do so, those who can't just stay in the streets. My sister was sick, and you didn't help, and she died!"
For such a young child, he had a strong voice, despite the high-pitched anger making it almost seem like a tantrum. He was genuinely angry.
"Take me to them," Taylor said. "To the orphans."
"So you can take them too? FUCK YO-"
Taylor put her hand over his mouth, and he kept shouting muffled words into her palm.
"Stop shouting;" she said. She didn't even think the eight year olds on her world used that word at all, and definitely not front of an adult. "I will help you, all of you."
He shouted and tried to punch her again, but she stopped his weak attack with her own hand and picked him up. He stopped shouting, then, and she began walking on, letting her bugs start searching through the streets for any other small children. As she did, she thought about the talk she would have to have with King Amran in the morning, and scattered the bugs that she had used to enclose herself and the boy, leaving just enough behind to tell her if anybody else approached. She soon regretted it; he was very active and vocal in his attempts to wriggle free, and she wished she had added earplugs to her costume. It wasn't like in Brockton Bay - there were obviously enough funds and materials for the other buildings.
There was a whole row of houses in disrepair, some distance away. They looked as if they'd been hit by a storm and never repaired, and no torches lit the night there. One of them was just crawling with little children, so she went to it; as she did, his struggles intensified.
"Stop!" the boy shouted. "Leave them alone!"
There was movement within the house, and Taylor moved her bugs in the building around; there were a number of people in it, a few of them possibly adult. One of them approached the entrance and came out, approaching Taylor and the boy. He stopped a distance from them.
"I'm sorry about that," he said awkwardly, apologetically. "Please don't - thanks for bringing -" Unable to properly express himself to Taylor, he settled for addressing the boy she was carrying. "Ven! I told you not to go running off!""
Taylor set the young boy - Ven - down and let him go, but he just turned around and stood firmly on the ground, chin stuck out defiantly at her. His fists were clenched.
"I don't care what you say, Umbra!" Ven shouted, his body turning to the other boy and gesturing wildly. "She took my sister! She is here to take you too! Get everybody! Run away before she gets you too!"
"We have been over this already, Ven," Umbra said sadly. "She was sick. We couldn't have done anything."
"She was not!" Ven said. "She was smiling a day before it happened! Laughing at my jokes, playing with Fabi!"
Taylor stood, watching them. I lost my mother, too, and I can't go home to my father anymore, she thought, watching Umbra and Ven, but she couldn't say it right then. They'd lost their parents too, both of them..
Someone approached, brushing past her insects without concern. Iman, from the size and gait - but that wasn't important right now.
Umbra moved up and grabbed Ven's shoulder, but the younger boy just turned around and hit him hard enough to knock the older boy to the ground despite their difference in size.
"Is this how you treat your friend?" Taylor asked him. "Is this how you want to honor your sister?"
She gathered all the fireflies that she could find and brought them towards them, forcing the insects to dim their lights as they gathered. When she judged that she had brought enough of them into the streets, she stopped suppressing them.
As if she had hit a switch, the darkness of the street was lit up in thousands of blinking stars. The two children in front of her - one of them possibly her age, or older - stopped moving, open-mouthed at the sight, watching the fireflies swirl through the air like molten gold.
There was freshly turned earth near the house,Taylor noticed.
"I cannot give you your sister," Taylor told him. "I'm sorry; I don't have that kind of power. But I will talk to the king. Children shouldn't have to work to survive - they should have a good childhood."
The fireflies continued streaming into the street where she stood, and people followed to see the sights; Skitter turned and saw them, and was reminded of that first speech she had given so long ago, after she had first received her territory. Her first speech to a crowd.
The swarm spoke, so that every person standing in the streets and many people in their houses for a good distance around heard clearly. "Citizens, build the orphans a house. Keep them safe, fed, clean, and warm." In a way, it wasn't so much different from Brockton Bay. This power could be used to help people. Charlotte would be proud.
"I still hate you," Ven said, stubbornly sullen.
"I don't expect you to like me."
"We had had intentions for these," the king admitted when Taylor asked him about orphanages the next morning after breakfast. "My grandson, Moses, left for Qurt some time back, to find women to take care of the children."
Taylor nodded, feeling a little foolish - she hadn't quite needed to barge in on King Amran, after all.
"But Moses has not yet returned, and Qurt has not sent any messages," Amram said. "And with no women to care for the children…"
"I understand," said Taylor, but wondered why there were no willing women in the capital. "Perhaps if I spoke to the people here," she began, and was interrupted.
"I'll do it!" Iman said loudly, and then turned a bright shade of red and stared at the floor when everybody turned to look at her. "That is - if it please the goddess and the king," she said. "I would like to…" she trailed off.
"Are you sure?" Taylor asked. Iman nodded.
"It's the least I can do - looking for a home for me was also a task you took on for me," Iman said. "Please, let me do this."
"I won't stop you," Taylor said. "I'm happy that we can find them some help." She turned back to King Amran. "But there are too many children for her alone. You had said Prince Moses had been away long?"
"Prince Moses has a habit, that he always sends us a messenger if his journey should take more time than expected," King Amram said. "But he hasn't done so and I- I fear the worst."
Taylor nodded. "How far is Qurt from here?"
Amal's eyes widened, staring at Taylor as she realised what Taylor intended. "Qurt? Really?"
Taylor nodded, and Amal paled slightly.
"Promise me not to take off your mask, milady," Amal stated. "No one can see your face."
"Sure?" Taylor said. She hadn't planned to do so anyway, but Amal was happy about her agreement.
"I will prepare your carriage and supplies," Prince Aaron said. "You will be able to leave by tomorrow."
Taylor smiled at Iman, even if she couldn't see it. "Thank you, Iman. Be bold and kind in the setting up of the first orphanage of Elamia."
Iman bowed, nodding in agreement. "Goodbye, my goddess."