"Nvyum, Skitter, imbviri amhrum. Hiye trymhum, prim." - ?

The journey through the Khalil was quick. They only stopped for food, drink, and rest, and Taylor refused to meet any of the royal families without news of her friends, and ended up ignoring the capital altogether.

At the shores, and on the ship, they met the captain Hamoud, who would sail the ship to Pavilion for them.

"I have heard so much about Pavilion!" Amal gushed. "The place of the most faithful! I've dreamed of going there since I was a child-"

"It's full of temples, you said," Taylor said. "I don't think we are going to visit all of them. We'll just try to learn a bit more about all this, and maybe find a lead to my friends."

"Everything should be fine as long nobody lands in the lands of the heathens," Amal said. "Massad might feel threatened by the spirits and end up rallying forces."

"That sounds kind of over the top," Taylor sighed. "So we should avoid going there too?"

"Unless the king-elect or queen-elect are reasonable, yes."

"You never told me you understood that much about the politics around here." Taylor smiled. Amal went slightly red.

"I didn't just study the spirits, milady."

"We might be able to use that. The month has been rather rough, with Aaron and Moses fighting too…"

"Don't let them hear," Amal whispered, glancing at the sailors. "Domestic disputes should stay as such, as should the king's degrading health."

"Alright," Taylor said. "I'm sorry. The people are really attached to their leaders around here, it seems."

"Are you not?" Amal asked. "I remember you telling me about your comrades, but… what about the gods?"

Taylor sighed, and shook her head slightly. "We had elected officials, people who led the countries, kind of."

"Like in Massad then? A republic?"

"United States," Taylor said. "And the people with powers were taken care of by the PRT."

"The team that you fought?"

"Well, it's more like a big organization," Taylor explained. "They were the heroes, we were the villains."

"You being a villain?" Amal grinned. "I don't believe it."

"With all I would have to fill you in on, I could write a book," Taylor sighed. "I'm not a person who spills every secret, but I trust you, you know that."

"I'm glad," Amal said, looking positively elated and happy. "But why were you the villain? Has it to do with the masks?"

"Not everyone had powers," she said. "Like my father. If anyone knew who I was, they might have attacked him. I wanted to be a hero and ended up joining with the people who'd become my friends later on… one thing led to the other, I wasn't always nice."

"I believe in you," Amal said. "No matter what, if you stand against the law, then the law in your world must be wrong."

Taylor chuckled. "Maybe. It felt like that sometimes."

Taylor glanced at the island behind her, the ship swiftly moving away from it and saw men and women bowing. She grimaced, and glanced back towards Amal, and then the ocean.

"This is still more comfortable than horse travel," she said.

"I don't understand what you have against it, I like horses," Amal said.

"Well, I had this flying insect, Atlas, big enough to give me some mobility in that regard. It's not like I can just grow wings and move everywhere."

"That would be incredible, though!" Amal said, glancing at her shoulders. "Just huge wings and we could go everywhere without waiting on anyone or anything!"

"You think I could carry you and our supplies?"

Amal glanced away. "I've put on some weight, haven't I? I was afraid someone would mention it…"

"Uh…" Taylor said. "No?"

"No need to lie." Amal crossed her arms. "The lavish feasts we've visited since you arrived have done enough, why are you still so fit?"

"I'm not sure?" Taylor tried. She hadn't gone jogging every morning, and she hadn't been in fights that often, but despite that, she didn't feel any different now than she did one and a half months ago when she had arrived and healed up.

The implications were worrying, now that she thought about it. This might fall back to the theory she had at the start - maybe, just maybe, this was just some kind of Tinker-tech world.

Maybe someone had gotten to her already, and the fact that her powers seemed to have changed here meant that it was all just some kind of a simulation, a trick someone was playing on her.

Or maybe she had already been poisoned and was in some kind of coma dream.

"Milady?" Amal asked, snapping her out of the thoughts.

"I'm okay," Taylor said, sighing. "I'm okay. I'm… just worried."

"About what?"

"Not finding my friends," Taylor lied. "Or maybe finding someone else. We weren't the only ones who were fighting there."

"Like the PRD?"

"PRT, yes." Taylor nodded. The sailors were pretending not to listen to their conversation, but she could feel their heads turn here and there with the bugs she placed on them. "It's not like we could have prepared for landing here."

"I'm sure we will find them," Amal said, her voice rather small. "And… and if not…"

"It's alright," Taylor said. "I know, and I appreciate that."

Amal glanced to the left, avoiding Taylor's gaze. Taylor glanced towards the islands again. The journey would take two or three days.

Taylor was dreaming.

It wasn't a pleasant dream. She hadn't had many pleasant dreams since she had come here.

She was glancing at herself through the eyes of thousands of insects, seeing herself twisting and turning in her sleep. The comfortable costume was not an optimal sleeping wear, but it had to do.

She felt dizzy. The strange optic gave her problems and she tried to get herself awake, but it didn't work. The swarm moved as she wanted it, though, and she moved to her own sleeping form and made one of them bite. She woke up.

She. The stranger in the bed.

Taylor glanced down, up, floated. The swarm was under her control… maybe this was still a dream.

The stranger in the bed screamed in her voice as she woke up, slapping away the insects and moving to the door, heaving and sweating. Moments later, someone knocked on the door, and the stranger opened it. It was Amal, saying something, incomprehensible to her ears.

The stranger answered in the same language.

Taylor moved the swarm again, or she tried. The stranger had a firm grasp on it. She couldn't control the swarm anymore, and felt her consciousness slipping away. Cold lines drew around her body and pulled her back. Chains.

Chains.

Everywhere she looked - black and white, holding her arms and legs, keeping her away from her body.

She tried to scream, but the bugs didn't even buzz. She tried to flail, but the stranger controlled the swarm…

She woke up.

Screaming, crying, her throat sore. She felt a certain sense of dread when she couldn't feel the swarm she had taken onto the ship, before even that feeling returned. The uncomfortable bed was exited in the fastest way possible, rolling out of it, hitting her head to the floor.

She frantically sent the bugs around, surveying the room, looking around. Her head hurt, but that wasn't important, the pain was forgotten quickly. She pressed herself away from the floor, trying to stand but failing, and sat down at the base of the bed instead.

Her breathing slowed slightly as she didn't find a threat, and Amal was already standing in front of the door, about to knock.

"Come in," she said, drawing her knees up and holding her head against her legs, trying to regain her bearings.

"Are you alright?" Amal asked. "Everyone heard you screaming, and we thought…"

"No, it's…." Taylor swallowed, clenching her eyes shut. "A nightmare. Nothing more. Must be the small rooms around here, I don't like being confined."

"I understand," Amal said, sighing. Her shoulders lowering slightly. She blinked the tiredness out of her eyes and rubbed her face. "It's nearly morning anyway, we should arrive today."

"That's good," Taylor said. "It's ironic, I grew up near the sea, but I never really liked it, ugh…"

"What is it?"

"I'm feeling rather sick," Taylor said, using the bed to right herself up and stand. "Let's… get to some fresh air, maybe that will help."

"Of course." Amal stepped forward, helping Taylor walk down the halls and up the stairs of the rather large ship. The wooden construct wasn't nearly as impressive as the ships in her world, but it was still a fine thing. The Elamian symbol proudly displayed on the sails.

Due to the time of day, the sun not quite visible but the soft blue of daytime coming, there wasn't much besides the ship she could see. The captain was already awake, standing nearby as they came up.

"Are you alright?" he asked. Taylor glanced to Amal, who was still helping her, and nodded, slowly removing herself from the girl.

"Kind of," Taylor said. "Maybe it's just the rocking back and forth."

"Ahaha, even the mighty spirits aren't save from seasickness," the man laughed, and Amal stepped up to him immediately, about to say something.

"Maybe," Taylor grinned. "I'm famished, let's get something to eat first, Amal."

"Alright," Amal said, glancing back at the man while following Taylor.

Hours later, they arrived. Taylor and Amal stepped up from the interior of the ship again and were greeted by thousands of faces in the haven, dressed in the same kind of colors of white and red.

Taylor stepped off the ship first, helping Amal make a small jump over the ledge and arrived in the middle of the crowd, as they started to part.

"Welcome!" the captain shouted, standing on the ship right behind them. "To Vermillion Haven!"

The crowd was silent, while Taylor and Amal looked at him.

"This sounded a lot better in my head," the captain admitted. "I might not see you again, our journey ends here, it was an honor, Spirit Skitter."

"Thanks for the trip," Taylor said, nodding to him. Amal did the same, as did all the people in the robes. Taylor turned to Amal and whispered. "This is not gonna be enjoyable."

Amal's gaze went over the crowd, and she took a step forward. The crowd immediately bowed down and one of the men in the front began to speak. He had a long beard and tanned skin.

"Welcome, High Priestess, to Vermillion, Haven of faithful travelers," the man said. "We have heard of you, and heard of your deeds, and thank you from the depths of our hearts for bringing the spirits to Pavilion."

"That wasn't me," Amal said, her voice shaking. "She wanted to come here herself…"

Taylor sighed, deciding to help her out despite the obvious consequences, and stepped up.

"Hi."

"HAIL SKITTER!"

Taylor was holding her head afterwards, the loud voices bringing headache and annoyance.

"Okay, please, no shouting," Taylor said. "We need to get to the capital, but we'd like to rest first."

The capital was protected well, and despite being built near water, great care was taken to make sure ships could not arrive there. Amal said that ships were the least effective weapons, and Taylor nodded. Without gunpowder, getting through walls would be hard on a ship.

"Let us give her a feast!" the man says. "Come, goddess Skitter, come to the temple."

The crowd began to cheer and it took Taylor all of her self-control not to bash her head against the ground and be done with it. Amal followed after her as she followed the man. Meanwhile, her bugs were surveying the area.

Bugs moved left and right, through houses and over them - the temple was visible to her in the distance, but her bugs had already searched every nook and cranny. The city that was supposed to be nothing more than a haven was as impressive as Friede, even if it was wider than it was high, less 'high' and more 'wide' with the buildings stretching long into the horizontal.

Taylor tried to ignore the whispers she could hear everywhere and arrived at the temple after a bit of a march, stepping into the furnished halls with paintings of the same priests left and right. He reminded her of Eshmun, but less attractive. Instead, he had the kind of professional look to him that would fit if he was wearing a modern suit.

"The first priest, Elamia," Amal whispered. "Eshmun's brother."

"That naming scheme is going to be annoying," Taylor said. They were led to a large hall with a huge table, statues of Eshmun and Elamia in the corners. The table had all kinds of dishes on it, some she has been more than familiar with from her stay in the castle, others that seemed kind of new.

Breakfast already forgotten, Taylor felt incredibly hungry as she looked at what would be her lunch and sat down with Amal next to her. Dozens of priests sat with them, one of the chairs remained empty.

Taylor began to remove her mask, any worry about her identity has been laid to rest a time ago already.

A small cough alerted her to something.

Taylor glanced at the chair that was empty before. Still empty. Shaking her head, she grabbed a spoon. The priests began to speak a prayer with her name in it. Amal actually followed suit.

Another cough, the prayer was interrupted.

Taylor glanced at the chair again. She was sure it was coming from there. Shaking her head again, she slowly brought the spoon to the soup that Amal put into a bowl in front of her… when did she fill that bowl?

"Milady?" Amal asked.

Taylor heard giggling, the chair fell over and she stood up, walking around the table and glanced down. Imp, alive and well, was sitting there with her mask on the side of her face, and laughing her ass off.

"She called you milady!" Imp shouted between her giggles. "Ahahaha, the fuck have you been doing all the time? You got a god complex down or something?"

Taylor shook her head and grabbed the girl, helping her up and hugging her. She couldn't speak, and Imp was just laughing harder.

"I... " Taylor began. Imp's laughs became small hiccups. "I'm so glad."

"Hey, hey Skitter, what the hell," Aisha said. "You know I'm not like that, that's a really strange place to start something like this, you know?"

Taylor didn't mind her comments this time, the priests didn't say anything.

"I thought all of you were dead," Taylor said, her voice cracking.

"It's okay," Aisha said, the laughter gone completely. "Hey, it's alright, come on…"

Taylor stepped away from the girl, glancing back at Amal, who was looking at the scene with a red face and glistering eyes.

"So, hey, Imp, this is Amal," Taylor introduced. "Amal, this is Imp, one of my friends, she also has powers."

"HAIL IMP!" the priests and priestesses shouted.

"Geez, what the fuck," Aisha held her ears. "If I hadn't been here for like two months, I'd blame the whole cult thing on you."

"This isn't my fault," Taylor sighed. "But at least I'm not the only one. Do you know about the others?"

"I heard whispers that someone who fit Regent's description was in Massad, but I heard you were arriving too, so…"

"So we should go to Massad?"

"Not now." Imp shook her head. "He might also have heard of us, and we might miss each other. How about we enjoy the food first? First time I'm actually visible at the table."

Taylor chuckled, wiping her eyes. "Alright."

"Hey, Skitter?" Aisha said. "I'm glad you're alive, too."