"She sat across me, choking on a drink, and everyone started laughing. Had I known, I wouldn't have dared to, but she took it in stride," Vincent the hunter, on how he met Skitter.

Taylor's eyelids lay heavy, her head hurting incredibly badly. Her ribs, after a thorough checking, didn't seem to be broken, though she was pretty shaken up. Her entire body was in pain. So she shut it out. Tried to distract herself as much as possible, by paying attention to her swarm, the movement of the cart, the people around her.

It worked after a fashion. She fell asleep. When she woke up, Despite the back and forth shaking and jumps of the cart, she couldn't open her eyes. Her eyes fluttered as pain burned in her head. When the pain left, she could feel a modicum of control over her own body return to her.

Her vision was black, even when she felt her eyes open. She tried to use her bugs to check the surroundings, the way she'd done when Coil had blinded her before, but it didn't work. The sound of Amal's voice seemed to be coming through a broken radio held underwater.

She held still.

Amal was worried. Skitter wasn't responding. Amal could see Skitter's right eye through the transparent lens, staring almost closed when it wasn't fluttering open and unfocused. Shaking her shoulder hadn't had any effect, and in the end she had to shout for the carriage to stop and have the soldiers carry Skitter out. She hadn't thought about the impact that might have on them - the important thing had been for her goddess to have fresh air….

"This looks bad," Captain David said. "She received strong hits, but I thought spirits were more resilient…"

"Yes," Amal said. "I thought so too, but she fought a spirit. Maybe that had something to do with it? What should we do?"

"Be faster," Prince Moses said. "Get to the healers, this isn't something we can treat out here."

"This isn't something anyone can treat," Captain David said. "These kind of injuries aren't something people recover from." Belatedly he made a sign of respect. "Prince Moses."

"Then all that remains are our prayers," Moses said. Amal brushed some of Taylor's hair away from the lenses before the soldiers carefully loaded her in the carriage again. Blood was dripping out of her nose and ears, staining her hair and face when she removed the mask inside the carriage..

"I will ride ahead," David said, "follow swiftly and keep her head from shaking around too much."

The man who sat in front of the carriage nodded.

Taylor was falling again.

She felt pressure from every direction. The wind whipped up her hair, the world around her vanishing piece by piece.

She looked down and saw a world. A planet full of green and blue. But the colours were the only familiar thing about it; the continents seemed completely shifted around. There were no large cities. No tall buildings, only castles and villages. No cars or airplanes.

She saw countless lives. She saw insects, spiders, fish, and wolves. She saw every animal imaginable.

She saw humans. Not so different from the ones she was used to, dressed in all kinds of clothes, from rags, to silk, to armor.

The pressure increased, starting to feel like hands. Hundreds of them touching her, pressing down on her body, as if trying to flatten her under their strength. Despite seeing all the insects, she couldn't control them. Despite feeling the pressure, she couldn't fight against it. She flailed.

As she approached the floor, bracing for impact, she felt the world break apart. Light and life was replaced with darkness and dread as the green under her ripped open like a wet paper towel. She tried to open her mouth, but her jaw wouldn't move. She tried to move her arms, but they felt like lead.

And then the feeling of pressure was gone. She felt her arms burning up as her body came to a sudden stop and was thrown around like a ragdoll.

Chains. White, looking incredibly unnatural against the blackness around her. They were around her arms, leaving her hanging, and hurting her.

She felt drained. The kind of feeling one had after a very hard exam, when all you could do was walk back home lifelessly and crash on the bed, yet the tiredness never came. The pain kept her aware.

And then, slowly, besides her pain and the sense of touch, the other senses returned to her. She could hear screams. She could smell blood. She could taste a vile taste that might be vomit.

And her eyes showed her a mountain. Vast and incredible.

Atop it was a woman, or maybe a very feminine looking man. She sat there, looking as large as the mountain. Black chains bound her to it, keeping her hands locked together.

The woman didn't quite smile.

She didn't quite frown either. An entire spectrum of emotions flickered on her face for just a fraction of a second before it settled in an apathetic façade.

"Not so different."

The voices were numerous. Child, man, woman, all of them fused together into a barrage and exploded so close to Taylor's ear that she screamed in pain.

"You and me," the woman said. Voices exploded once more, making Taylor fight against the chains in an attempt to escape. "Taylor."

The burning feeling on her arms was nothing compared to the ringing in her ears. Taylor blacked out.

Taylor had her eyes closed as she woke up.

She could feel hands on her head, removing bandages. She could feel something warm being wiped away from her right ear and nose. She reached out for her bugs with a short stab of fearful anticipation, and sighed in relief; her control over them was back, as complete as it had ever been. She looked through their senses, and the too-loud sounds and too-bright lights made her immediately regret it. There were human-shaped shadows moving about.

One of them was Amal.

She coughed as a strong stench entered her nose, gasping for air. She lifted her back off the softness underneath,and was unceremoniously pushed down again.

"Stay down," she heard. The sounds became less and less annoying. "What's going on?"

"She is healing," another voice said. "Much quicker than I expected. Spirits are truly mysterious…"

But Taylor shouldn't have been healing quicker. She shouldn't have been healing any better than anyone else. She wasn't a spirit…

Or did people around here just heal slower? As she understood it, ancient medicine wasn't all that effective…

Her jaw felt heavy. She couldn't say anything. The bugs swirled around, gathering. She concentrated on what she did before and tried to organize them to make noises close enough to speech.

"Water."

The bugs buzzed loudly, making the people around nervous. Almost immediately they began moving away from her. Amal didn't, though. Or at least, she assumed the girl was Amal. Some seconds later, she felt cool water touching her lips. She tried to swallow, but it was hard, and she began coughing immediately, Amal moving her head slightly so the water could escape her mouth.

Her eyes still shut, the light way too bright, Taylor just stayed where she was. Amal helped her take a sip again, and the other people continued what they were doing. Her throat felt better and better after a lot of water.

The bandage around her left eye was removed completely, and she felt warm liquid drip out of her ear. It was painful. Soft cloths dabbed at and removed the liquid.

Taylor concentrated on her bugs, tried to offload the pain, ignore it. It was harder than ever, her breathing shallow and her eyes fluttering open now and then whenever someone touched her.

The pain in her chest was gone, replaced by, a numb feeling spreading over her skin from something smeared across it. Some kind of herbal ointment, she guessed, and sighed in relief as she was able to breathe more easily.

The hours were too many to count. They kept her down whenever short bursts of pain made her arch her back. They kept going with the entire treatment, washing her hair, Amal keeping her company. She felt uncomfortable, unable to move on her own, but she started to feel better and better.

When she finally fell asleep, she was exhausted nonetheless.

She dreamt of her friends and family.

Taylor woke up and saw the ceiling. Not just through one eye, but through both, and she couldn't feel any glasses or lenses on her face.

The mask was gone, lying beside her, as was the suit. She was dressed in some of the finer robes that she had seen on some of the richer women. Sitting up, she began touching her head and ribs, touched her eye. Nothing. No pain. No wounds.

Cloth full of blood, bandages en masse and herbs were on one of the tables. She stretched slightly, enjoying how unrestricted the clothes felt and checked the surroundings with her insects. Nothing special, two armed guards outside the door…

And Amal. A bit late for someone who should be better aware, but it might be because she was so close. Amal was lying on a large blanket next to the bed she was on, sleeping deeply. She had rings under her eyes, and looked more exhausted than Taylor had ever felt.

Taking a sip out of the cup of water next to her, she sighed.

'What the fuck happened?' she thought. The past few days have been nothing but darkness and a blur. Her memories mixing together like crazy. The way from Qurt to Elamia must have taken at least a few days, if they had hurried. Was she out for that long?

She stretched again, moved her body slightly and took a deep breath before taking a look at her mask. Not one person here knew her. Everyone assumed she was some kind of spirit, and that in over a month of denying it.

The mask would be useful when fighting, but right now she didn't need it. She touched her face again, making sure that there was nothing there. No contact lenses either. Well, that's one part of her charm gone, she wouldn't complain.

The suit, though, was in dire need of some cleaning. They looked like they worked out some blood, but by now she could probably make a better one with the silk around here. Project one, new costume.

She didn't want to wake Amal up, though, and stepped out of the bed silently, taking a small leap over the girl and sitting down on a chair nearby. She had most of the silk to work on one already, the amount of spiders here being a lot higher than in the city, but it would still take a week or two to get them all together and make something decent out of it.

If she walked outside, Amal would just worry, so she tried to relax, and gather her thoughts.

Thinking about the past few days made her head hurt. The injuries healed too quickly. It made no sense, she should still be out of it, or worse, dead. It was a sickening to think how quickly she could have died here - how much she missed the support of her team.

With the help of the Undersiders, she would have won that fight in a few seconds. Imp could have taken him down on her own, if she wanted to, as long as she had one of those swords. Imp would probably love to get her hands on one of those swords.

The endless amount of spiders moved to a more abandoned location and began to make silk that she would gather later. A few seconds later, she felt someone approaching. Short steps, three legs. No, a crutch. Someone was with him. Crowns.

The door opened, Amal waking up immediately at the loud squeaking sound. Her first reaction was to jump up, check the bed, and immediately making a high pitched sound at it, before turning to the door. Amram and Moses stood there, looking at Taylor while Amal bowed deeply.

"I'm sorry, my king, I don't know where she went," she squeaked out. Taylor coughed slightly, making her turn around. Amal immediately straightened and turned around, tackling Taylor in a hug and almost knocking the chair over, before realizing what she did and taking a step back. "I'm so sorry! Are you in pain, are - are you laughing?"

Taylor chuckled, standing up and nodding to the king and prince before turning to Amal. "I'm okay, nothing hurts."

"That's… that's a relief," Amal immediately took the place of Taylor on the chair. The king smiled at her. "I'll… just rest my eyes."

"Of course," Taylor said, turning to the king again. "Good day."

"Welcome back, Goddess Skitter," Amram said, nodding back. Moses bowed deeply, practiced and with a flourish, but not the least bit sarcastic. "I thank you, from the bottom of my heart, that you have saved my son. Anything you desire shall be yours."

"I need a ship," Taylor said. "Amal suggested to visit Pavilion, and from the maps, I doubt that there is a bridge spanning that large a distance."

Amram nodded.

"Indeed, we have sent messengers across the entire country already, in search for your comrades. The moment something is heard, we shall send one to my brother in Pavilion."

"Thank you," Taylor said. "Please don't hurry, I have some stuff to do before leaving."

"Very well." The king nodded. "Might I suggest visiting the orphanage?"

"A good idea," Taylor said. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, o spirit. Should you require anything else, please come to me, all the doors in Elamia are open to you."

Moses smiled a charming smile at her before leaving after his father. The two armed men followed after the king on his command. She could hear the king's words through the bugs on the walls.

"Leave the priestess to rest," he said. "She's had a rough week."

Taylor woke up Amal by shaking her shoulder and helped her towards the bed, letting her lay down and tucking her in. Gathering the bugs on the walls and sending them forward, Taylor began navigating out of the castle, letting Amal rest.

The streets of Elamia were as she remembered them, though a few papers were spread here and there with her mask on it.

"Seeking for Goddess Skitter's comrades," she read aloud. "Come to Elamia, spirits of old, King Amram invites you all."

That doesn't sound suspicious at all, of course. But they probably would come even if this was a trap, just to find her. Hopefully. She dreaded to think about what Tattletale might do.

When she eventually arrived at the old location of the broken home that the kids lived in, she found a largely renovated building. Not bad work for… however long she was out. People were running around inside, and she stepped up to the door, knocking on it.

It was a too late when she realized that she had forgotten to put on the mask, and she wasn't sure anyone would recognize her face without it. She hoped that they would recognize her hair at least. The door opened, revealing Iman, dressed in what Taylor thought might be some kind of apron, with a baby in her arm.

"Hello?" she said.

"Hello, Iman," Taylor smiled. "I don't have my mask with me, but…"

Taylor lifted her hand up, a bunch of fireflies landing in it and lighting up slightly, not very visible under daylight.

"O-oh spirit!" Iman said, stepping away from the door. "I apologize for my rudeness, I didn't know you were well already, it has been over a week since you have returned so badly hurt, please, please step in."

Taylor did, looking around. Umbra was standing there, holding Ven—the kid that was so angry at her so long ago—in a headlock. The moment he saw her, though, he let go, standing upright before bowing.

"Welcome, goddess!" he said. Well, he recognized her, at least. Ven didn't do the same, and while she didn't mind, Umbra grabbed his head and tried to make him bow. "I don't care if you don't like her, she made this possible!"

"It's okay," Taylor said. Umbra looked up, his eyes widened slightly. "I don't care about all that bowing and stuff, just call me Skitter."

Taylor might be a name that might crop up here and there, Skitter was easier to manage when she wanted to find her friends. The younger children around there accepted her words immediately, and even when one of the women she recognized from Qurt tried to rein them in, some jumped up and down and hugged her around the legs, rushing around her. It was quite the spectacle.

"Calm down," Taylor said, crouching down. It almost felt like Brockton Bay again. The kids deserved something better. "How is it going, Iman?"

"Quite well." Iman's smile was splitting her face. "We have so many helping hands, and built two more orphanages around here. With the king's help, we might be able to get more children more help, the problem is with the older ones, that don't get a chance at becoming an apprentice to find some work."

"I'm sure they can find something outside of the city," Taylor said. "Maybe move a few men as farmers to Qurt."

Iman laughed, understanding the implication, and shook her head slightly.

"Maybe, but most want to help the orphanage when they grow up," Iman explained.

The children moved to another room, Umbra and Ves remaining with a red haired girl. The girl got a nod from Umbra before moving up to Taylor, looking up to her.

"Yes?" Taylor said.

The girl tried to lean up, and Taylor leaned further down.

"I think Ves likes you," she whispered.

"Oh?" Taylor said, looking at the boy. "I think he has to grow up a bit, and I already have someone."

Well, wherever Brian was right now, he better not have a bunch of girls all over him.

The girl giggled before moving to Umbra and Ven, whispering something into their ears.

"Where's Amal?" Iman asked as Taylor turned away from the kids.

"Resting. She looks like she was awake for quite some time," Taylor explained. Iman nodded.

"She didn't leave your side, even when the healers confirmed you were healing well," Iman said. "I'm glad that you are alright, spirit."

"Same." Taylor smiled. "I have an errand to run, thanks for the welcome. I will talk to you later, okay?"

"Goodbye," Iman bowed as Taylor left through the door.

Taylor's path immediately led her to the already impossibly large amount of silk she prepared. This would take some time, she sighed, but it would be worth it. The question was how she was going to color it, the ugly yellow and white of normal silk wasn't really her style.

Taylor took the silk back to the room where Amal was sleeping - her home in Elamia, as it stood, until she had no need for it anymore. When she first woke up, she had thought it was some kind of room for the doctors, or healers as they called them here.

When she was done with that, and seeing that Amal was still sleeping, she went out again. Compared to Brockton Bay, where she had to go to school, make sure the spiders bred and produced silk for her costume, and keep all her work hidden, Taylor had more freedom here. It allowed her to go out while the spiders were working on the costume, without fear of anyone interrupting them. Her range allowed her to step quite a distance away from the castle.

Eventually she ended up at an inn. Like many others she had been in, this one was filled to the brim and some people were either renting rooms or just drinking rather early in the morning. This time, however, she had neither costume nor mask.

Right now she wasn't Skitter the spirit as everyone called her, she was just another stranger in the inn. It was quite a different atmosphere than the castle, and she sat down at one of the tables. A man stepped around the crowd and came up to her.

"What will it be, little miss?" he asked. Taylor smiled.

"Something warm," she said, feeling incredibly hungry. The castle's dining room was incredibly lonely due to the size, and Amal was still out of it. "Just something to fill my stomach for now."

"Okay," he nodded, moving back again. A few more men sat down at the previously empty table, and a woman joined in a bit later. Some people left, new people entered.

"Oi, oi," one of the man said after ordering himself some beverages. "I don't think I ever saw you 'round here."

"I'm new in town," Taylor said. "Enjoying the sights a bit."

"Ah, aye, a beautiful city isn't it? Elamia, once great capital of the islands before the other kingdoms decided they wanted a share."

"I'm not well versed in history," Taylor admitted. "I know about the basics, but besides Elamia, I'm not too sure about the other kingdoms."

"Well, we all follow one faith, for one," the man said. "Great spirits, like the great Skitter who descended and saved the prince! But their kings are greedy, they waged war against us aided by the republic."

"A patriot through and through!" the woman at the table shouted. "And we are still part of the empire!"

"Independence isn't necessarily better," another man said. He looked leaner than the first one, a short beard under his chin and a hat on his head. "We have seen years of peace and prosperity."

"And what good is peace when it is under the flag of those mice?"

"Those mice ripped through our armies," the leaner man said. "They won, and we lost, and our children don't suffer from it. The king made a smart decision."

"Bah," the bigger man snarled. "Like hell he did, we will never be truly free now."

"Calm down," Taylor said, seeing the man she thought was the owner approach with her food. She paid the man and he put it down on the table.

"So what's your opinion, then?" the bigger man asked. The leaner man glanced at her. Taylor raised an eyebrow.

"Honestly?" she said. "I don't really care. I'm not from around here."

"From the empire then?"

"Nope," Taylor shook her her head.

"From the southern countries then? Where they speak an entirely different language?"

"Do I speak an entirely different language?" Taylor asked, taking a bite out of the meal on the table. It felt good to fill her stomach…

"No," the man leaned over the table, glancing at her sidewards. "You look like you come from the west, but you don't come from the islands. The fuck are you from?"

"You wouldn't know it even if I told you." Taylor shrugged, continuing her meal.

"Trying to be all mysterious, ehh?"

"If you say so," Taylor took a sip of the drink besides it, immediately coughing and spitting it back into the cup. It burned.

"Hahaha!" the people at the table started to laugh, and the leaner man spoke up. "Can't hold your liquor?"

"I didn't know it was alcohol, I don't drink," she coughed more, trying to get the feeling out of her throat. "Damn…"

"Bit young to drink, ahaha," the big man said. "My son was able to drink two of those when he was 12 years, that boy!"

"Of course," the woman on the table jeered. "He weighed as much as two pigs!"

"Take that back!"

Taylor grabbed some water from the owner. That shit was strong.