Chapter Text
The stars shone brighter than Aloy could ever remember them being as she stared up into the night sky. Everything here was quiet. There was no constant thrum of machines roaming the lands, metal footprints against soft, willing Earth. No low hum of voices as people traded and bartered, no clang of metal on metal as scrap was molded and welded between capable Oseram hands. The air here was still and silent save for the whistling of the cold winds between the massive frozen legs of the long ago defeated Horus that Aloy set up camp next to for the night. The irony of using this machine that once destroyed so much life (and more recently almost her own) to protect her for the evening was not lost on her.
The silence was both a welcome friend and an equally unwelcome one. So much had happened over the last few weeks that Aloy felt as if she couldn’t quite catch her breath.
Beta, Tilda, Nemesis…Varl.
Her thoughts drifted unbidden towards her fallen friend and the terrible sense of loss that she felt was no less painful than a nasty jolt from a Stormbird. Though she longed for a reprieve from the threat of Nemesis, the sudden solitude was a bit jarring. She’d seen so much life along her journey through the Forbidden West, but the experience was irrevocably marred by the blood stained shadow of death. Sylens words rang in her ears. ‘People die all the time.’ But what he’d failed to consider was that it never got easier to accept the finality of it when those people were among the very few that you’d let closest to your heart.
The bright white pinpoints of stars slowly morphed and spread into indistinguishable, blurred shapes against a black canvas. A single hot tear streaked down the side of Aloy’s face, bringing the stars back into sharp relief as she quickly swiped it away with a defiant hand. Tears had their place just as much as sadness had it’s time, but right here right now was neither the place nor the time. But a niggling thought persisted in the back of her mind.
‘If not now, then when?’
She shoved the thought away as she had so many times before when overwhelming grief threatened to get the best of her. She was stronger than this. And she had more pressing things to do than grieve right now.
I’ll find the time and the place. She made a silent promise to herself, unsure of her ability or willingness to actually follow through on that promise, as she closed her eyes against the bright sky and begged for the sweet release of sleep.
When it didn’t come she rolled over in a futile attempt to block the wind with her back, the chill of the hard packed snow beneath her starting to seep through the soft leather of the bedroll. Despite the warm hide of her Banuk clothing and the rough, tight knit fabric of the blanket she'd barely managed to cover herself with, she was perpetually cold. She mumbled soft curses against the damned eternal winter of The Cut under her breath and pulled the blanket higher up under her chin. The small campfire that she’d barely managed to light wasn’t doing much to stave off the chill. Her exhaustion that had culminated over the past few weeks was wearing her down and tonight her body’s pleas for rest after hiking and climbing for hours far outweighed her desire for warmth. So yes, her campfire efforts had been less than spectacular.
She could seek shelter inside the facility of the Grave Hoard, that much was true. And initially she’d considered it. But the ghosts of those voices whose last breaths were taken in that bunker as the Horus attacked were louder than any mumbled complaint of the cold. Any more reminders of loss glaring at her tonight would undoubtedly lead to yet another sleepless night and Aloy needed all of her strength for the rest of the climb tomorrow. So no, no relative warmth of the bunker for her tonight…she’d be just fine outside.
Tomorrow would be a better day, or so she hoped. The corners of her mouth curved upwards in a slight smile as she thought of her reason for putting herself through this frigid cold of the Banuk lands once more. She felt the faintest glimmers of something warm and comforting, a feeling she had been so accustomed to living without lately…hope. Her attempts could prove futile, yes, but she was willing to take the chance after all that had happened. There was a war coming. One that would threaten their entire existence and Aloy needed all the help she could get.
She’d found herself more times than not lately in the middle of a fight with a new machine, with the Far Zenith, with a damned Horus, her arms aching from endless draws of the bow, muscles burning from dodging and rolling, and yet her mind would stray to reminders of a tenuous happiness she’d once felt. Fleeting glimpses of whipping snowstorms, of a sprinkling of honeyed stars against a porcelain sky, and pools of soft blue whose icy color belied their warmth. Those images once again filled her mind as she felt sleep finally, blissfully tugging at her consciousness. Yes…only one thing was worth this treacherous trek up the mountain.
She was chasing a Snow-Ghost.
***************
Morning arrived with the slightest bit of warmth grazing Aloy’s face as the sun rose over the horizon. She was quick to rise, grateful that the nightmares were already retreating into the dark recesses of her mind where she’d lock them away...at least until they inevitably broke free of their chains when her eyes closed tonight.
She was eager to keep moving towards her destination and wasted no time packing up her bedroll and moving on. As she resumed her ascent up the mountain the cold became much less of a problem as the welcome, familiar warmth of physical exertion spread through her body. Her muscles hummed as they propelled her body further, carrying her higher and higher up the steep mountain face. She was very much in her element here. She was in control of each movement, of each step she took, each handhold she gripped between her strong fingers. ‘Survival required perfection’, words she lived by.
Nothing could touch her here.
With the midday sun now at her back, she finally crested the top of the mountain and took a moment to look back out across the horizon, taking in the breathtaking view from this height. To think that she’d traversed so much of the land below was a wild thought to her. She’d spent so much of her life thinking she would never leave Nora lands. And now…she shook her head as she cast her eyes towards the direction of the Sacred Lands.. Now she couldn’t imagine ever returning outside of visiting Rost’s grave. It wasn’t home. Her eyes fell as a thought settled heavy on her heart.
She had no home.
Without a second glance over the land below she turned her back to it and headed up the worn path in the snow. She called up a greeting to the sentries at the entrance of Song’s Edge and with a relieved, travel weary sigh headed into The Cut at last.
It didn’t take long to be spotted amongst the usual bustle of the werak as she made her way to a group gathered at one of the various fires. Standing amongst the colorful assortment of people was one that seemed to tower over the others, both in stature and in authority. He spotted Aloy before the others and a small smile lit up his gruff face, a genuine look of pleasant surprise.
“Aloy!” Several members of the tribe turned at the chieftain’s exclamation and offered their greetings as the chief raised his own large hand.
“Aratak,” Aloy nodded her greeting and offered a smile of her own.
“It’s good to see you again, Aloy. No one could seem to find you after the Battle of Meridian. I’m pleased you’ve found your way back to us.”
Aloy shrugged a shoulder and stepped closer to the fire, enjoying it’s warmth against her freezing hands.
“I, uh, had some things to take care of afterwards. Your help during the fight was greatly appreciated, Aratak. Song’s Edge is stronger for having you as their leader.”
Aratak’s chest puffed out slightly, standing taller and straighter as if the sentiment put some fire back into his battle weary soul. Never one to miss an opportunity for exercising his role as chieftain he motioned to two of the hunters nearest the fire.
“Koltuk.Tulani. Gather your gains from today’s hunt and prepare a feast. We have a hero’s return to celebrate.”
“Oh, no, Aratak that won’t be necessary,” Aloy blushed fiercely, thinking that the hero worship she’d experienced incessantly after the battle of Meridian was a thing of the past. “I don’t plan to be here long, I’m just kind of passing through.”
She winced internally at the mild hurt on Aratak’s face that he gave a half hearted attempt at masking. To refuse an offer of food or shelter from the Banuk was as good as a slap in the face.
“I won’t hear of it, Aloy. You’ve come a long way. The least we could do is offer a feast fit for a hero!” With a flourish, he threw his hands into the sky to punctuate his statement. The boom of his voice garnered more attention from many Banuk who’d already moved closer to catch a glimpse of Aloy. Whoops and cheers, shouts of affirmation and praise for the Flame Haired One pierced the frosty air and Aloy found herself wishing she could climb under the nearest, largest rock and hibernate for several centuries.
“Okay, alright, how about let’s just…” Aloy pushed her hands down mid air in a gesture of quieting down. “Let up a bit on the whole hero thing, maybe?”
Aratak offered a sly grin, pleased with himself for convincing Aloy to stay a while. “That can be arranged, Chief.”
“Not-” Aloy let out a small chuff of laughter and shook her head. “Not that either. Aloy. Just Aloy.”
“Alright Just Aloy. Please, make yourself comfortable while we prepare the festivities.” The chief motioned towards a weapon's tent set up in the distance. “We have a visitor right now that I think you’d enjoy seeing. She’s mentioned you many times and I’m sure would be pleased to see you.”
Aloy’s heart skipped a beat at the prospect of who she’d find at the tent. Could it really be that easy? Three weeks worth of a journey could end here, now. The enticing thought propelled her towards the tent after a quick nod of thanks to Aratak.
As she neared the tent she saw a familiar, welcome face, but not the one she was hoping to see. She swallowed down her disappointment and offered a smile to Varga, whose eyes lit up as soon as they landed on Aloy.
“By the Forge, do my tired eyes deceive me?! Aloy, is it really you?”
“Hey, Varga,” Aloy spread her arms and tilted her head in confirmation.
“Oh, tell me you’ve brought me some new weapons from your journey, please!” Varga’s eyes lit up in anticipation and Aloy smirked knowingly.
“You did!” She clapped her hands and rubbed them together excitedly. “Let’s see it then!”
Aloy presented her Specter Gauntlet with a flourish and grinned as Varga immediately started spewing a million questions at her, ending with “Can I hold her? Please?”
Her earlier disappointment faded as Varga’s excitement reached a fever pitch when she handed over the weapon, watching the other woman’s eyes gleam with the potential of such undiscovered and unbridled power in her hands. She watched her admire the polished, angular weapon with a reverence reserved for a mother gazing upon her newborn child. Then with a gentle hand Aloy guided her further into the weapons tent and prepared to spend hours recanting the tale of just how she acquired the weapon and the machines she’d conquered with it.
**********
As the sun once again dipped under the tops of the snow capped mountains and the light grew dimmer, the cheery sounds of banter and song only grew louder. Aloy had entered the weapons tent with Varga in hopes of sharing what she knew of the Specter Gauntlet and she wasn’t disappointed as her companion hung on every word that came out of her mouth. Aloy explained that her journey would take her further past Song’s Edge and was met with eager acceptance when she offered to leave the weapon with Varga overnight so she could study it and modify it if she so chose.
As she opened the tent to leave, she glanced back once more at Varga who was now eagerly perched over the weapon, smoothing her hands over the flawless metallic finish and murmuring to herself about the potential for a railgun attachment. As much heartache as that weapon put her through, she wasn’t a bit heartbroken to leave it in willing and capable hands for a while. She knew it would be taken care of.
Snow had started to fall in light, dry flakes and Aloy habitually crossed her arms and tucked in her hands, grumbling to herself about the cold. Thoughts of Plainsong and warm nights with scant clothing helped calm her immediate shiver and she dreamt of one day going back there. It would be bittersweet without Varl, but perhaps she could convince Zo to tag along.
Aratak immediately caught sight of Aloy and waved her over.
“Varga was glad to see you, I’m sure.”
Aloy nodded and let out a little laugh. “Yeah, but I’m not sure if she was happier to see me or to see my weapons.”
“She’s certainly a spirited one. Her song is one of curiosity.” Aratak nodded sagely and then motioned for Aloy to follow him towards wooden seats that had been arranged around several campfires.
Even in the waning light, Aloy could admire the bright dyes of the cloths that adorned the seats, so vibrant that they could’ve come straight out of the thermal pools just that morning.
“Please, join us.”
Aratak took a seat and was immediately joined by many in the werak, all eager to partake in the feast that was set before them. Salmon hung skewered on a roast above the ever blazing fire pit and heavy wooden bowls were set on a rack nearby, filled with what Aloy suspected was boar stew made with what remained of the harvest before the hard snow set in. Her stomach rumbled at the sight and she was grateful for an actual meal tonight. The Winter Paleberries and dried rabbit Kotallo had provided for her journey were running low as her trek had taken longer than she had anticipated and she’d eaten so little last night in an effort to preserve what was left. The past few months had taken more of a toll on her than she cared to admit, both mentally and physically. But no matter how much she slowed down, she refused to stop until she reached her destination.
This was important.
“We are Banuk,” Aratak’s booming voice carried over the snowflakes and broke Aloy from her introspection. “Our enemies are prey.”
“Thanks to Aloy, the Banuk live to see another day. Tonight, we honor her and her efforts. Our tribe is proud to have once called you our chief, Aloy.” He banged the end of his spear into the ground, resulting in a low thump muffled by the snow. It was immediately followed by a single, harmonious outcry of respect and agreement from the tribe as each of them raised a single fist to the sky then dropped it back to their side.
Aloy nodded at the chief and was tremendously grateful that the speech ended there and the tribe had already moved on and begun to fill their bowls with blessedly hot food. Once she’d taken her portion, she chewed slowly and graciously, savoring the warm meal. She caught Kamut’s eye across the fire pit and offered a small smile as his eyes flitted over her spear appreciatively before lowering his head again to eat, the fabric of his headdress swaying in the gentle wisps of wind.
“Where does your journey lead you next, Aloy?” Aratak said as his massive hands raised another bite of fish to his mouth.
“I’ll be headed further North into Ban-Ur for a bit. I’m visiting an old friend.”
“Someone we may know?” Aratak asked and Aloy hesitated before shaking her head. She couldn’t very well ask for information about someone that may be presumed dead by the people of Song’s Edge. She was well aware of how fast word traveled, especially in these small weraks, so she didn’t want to take the risk no matter how tempting it was to get information that may make her journey easier.
“She’s likely been on the move for a while, but I’m hoping she’s still around.” She paused, looking for an explanation without giving too much information. “I just have to track her down first.”
“A hunt?” Aratak’s eyes lit up and he waved his hands to indicate his tribe. “Excellent. I’m sure anyone in the camp will be willing to join you. We Banuk love a good challenge.”
“Thank you, Aratak, but this is something that I have to do alone.”
A look of slight indignance mixed with disappointment shadowed the chief’s face at the quick dismissal before nodding his head once.
“Very well. You’ll let the paths guide your way?” Aratak motioned to the posts lit with blue light along the trails.
“I don’t think she’s ever been one to stick to paths,” Aloy’s lips quirked into a smile as she filled her spoon with stew.
“And neither have I for that matter.”
Aratuk laughed gruffly and tilted his head in agreement. “I do believe that.”
Aloy’s grin faded naturally as she neared the end of her meal and could feel the contentment that a full stomach and nice company brought on. She was relaxed, comfortable…cold…but it was still better than being cold and miserable. Her thoughts shifted to the latter as she watched Aratak for a long moment, her eyes coming to rest on the familiar Bluegleam pendant that now found it’s home against his chest, close to his heart.
“How are you holding up, Aratak?” she asked gently and watched as his hardened features softened the tiniest bit. She knew the chief wasn’t the best at expressing his emotions, but she was curious how time had aided his healing after Epsilon. She held onto the smallest flicker of hope that it would be positive for her own sake since she knew she still had much progress to make herself.
“I miss Ourea every day,” he answered quietly. “Grief…is perhaps the biggest challenge I’ve ever faced. I shall overcome it, just as I have with any other challenge presented to me.” He patted the pendant and then cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable with the uncharacteristic display of vulnerability.
“I wish you safe travels, Aloy. You know you are welcome here anytime. You and your friend both, as any person worthy of your trust is worthy of mine. Consider paying us another visit on your way out of the area?”
Aloy nodded and stood, thanking Aratak both for his generous meal and again at his insistence that she take some food and supplies for the next leg of her journey. Since she was a welcome guest, no longer considered an outlander by the people of Song’s Edge, a tent had been pitched for her and set up next to a nearby fire for which she was extremely thankful. One of the tribesmen pointed her in the direction of her abode for the night and she gladly retreated into the relative warmth and safety of the blue dyed leathers and settled into the bedroll.
Tonight, sleep came much easier. But the nightmares did too.
**********
With some fresh rations and a promise to visit Aratak again, Aloy set off early the next morning, no closer to knowing where she was actually going. She picked up the Specter Gauntlet that now sported a shiny new railgun attachment from Varga and hugged her goodbye, promising to bring herself (and the weapon) back again soon. For now she would head towards Snowchants and go from there. With a bit of luck, she wouldn’t have to go any further than that.
The path she’d forged through The Cut so far was blissfully drier and warmer than her trek yesterday and she found herself grateful for the relatively flat, less snow covered land. She’d stopped briefly at the thermal pools to admire the bright hues of the yellow, blue, and green against the stark white snow where a few Banuk were taking their time and pride in dyeing several cloths a bright red in the hot waters. Not wanting to waste daylight, Aloy continued on. Eventually the route became more familiar and she allowed her mind to wander as her feet carried her towards her destination, steering clear of machines as they roamed. She was so close now to Snowchants, so close to hopefully taking a step closer to realizing a future she could have.
Her steps faltered slightly as her thoughts shifted to Seyka and all that they’d been through. Seyka was the reason she was on this journey after all. She’d let herself get close to the young woman while they tracked down Londra, closer than she ever thought she would be with someone. It had taken her a bit by surprise to be honest. Seyka had pushed her way slowly, but surely into a part of Aloy’s heart that she hadn’t realized was empty. Not having to hide behind a facade of resolute strength and entrusting her past to someone who could sympathize with her felt like a big deal. But what felt even bigger, even more Earth shattering, were the feelings that Seyka had dug up ever so subtly from the places of Aloy’s heart that she kept walled off from herself and from anyone around her.
She’d grown up too fast, forced to focus on nothing but survival so suddenly that she’d closed the rest of herself off. At one time in the not so distant past, she’d wanted nothing more in the world to know who her mother was…to have a family to call her own. She’d lost Rost, the closest thing to family she’d ever physically had. She’d only ever had Elisabet in her dreams, their hearts beating in unison as their bodies pressed together, arms enveloping one another as Aloy felt for a moment that she was whole. Those dreams were ones she both longed for and also dreaded, knowing she would wake to a world where Elisabet Sobeck was nothing more than the wisps of a soul that slipped through her fingers every time that hug was cut too short.
It felt as though those that she let in, those that made their way past Aloy’s sky high walls, were destined to be lost to her. But Seyka had been different. They’d made it through so much, side by side, against the odds. And she’d actually enjoyed it. They’d flown as Icarus on the wings of a Sunwing, dove into icy waters on the back of a Waterwing, survived an actual madman and his attempts to end them with his zombified Horus. And after the both proverbial and literal dust had settled Aloy found herself standing in front of a nervous Seyka, grinning as the other woman confessed her attraction to and growing feelings for Aloy. The very fact that Seyka was standing in front of her, alive, whole, happy…it opened Aloy’s eyes. Perhaps there truly was more in the world for her than simply survival. After all, what was the point of surviving if you had nothing to survive for? She wanted happiness, she wanted to take chances, she…didn’t want Seyka.
The dark haired woman’s face had fallen when Aloy gently caressed her cheek with her fingers and thanked her for the time they’d had together and for being such an amazing friend. Seyka wanted more, that much was obvious. But instead of reciprocating, Aloy had a revelation. The feelings that were painted clearly across Seyka’s face were ones that Aloy thought she’d never felt before. Only she had. And she just wasn’t aware of it at the time, hadn’t allowed herself to realize that’s what she was feeling in the moments where she was happy, energized, enjoying a give and take from another human being. It felt like a lifetime ago that she’d not wanted her snowy challenge to end, her back both literally and figuratively against a woman that made her feel alive as they took down machines together. The recognition of what she felt was a stupor shattering slap across the face, one that immediately propelled her away from Sekya and the Burning Shores and towards The Cut.
Towards the shining North Star of hope and-
Lost in thought and not subconsciously hearing any machines nearby, as she’d diligently trained herself to pick up on at all times, Aloy was forcibly wrenched out of her contemplation by the sound of a metallic crunching beneath her feet. A quick glance down told her all that she needed to know and she stumbled backwards away from the unseen mine.
Before she could even chastise herself for her carelessness, a red disc was flying through the air, the whistling sound one she knew well…one she dreaded. The small explosion of sound overhead kicked her survival instincts into high gear as she ran and slid into the nearest patch of red grass waving in the frosty wind. Ducking down into the slight coverage of the tall grass she steadied her breathing, her heart hammering in her chest. The gentle, familiar knocking of her quiver against her thigh was a small comfort to her. More from habit than purpose, she let her fingers brush against the feathered fletchings, ready to draw if needed. She scanned with her focus, already knowing what she was going to see. Or rather…not see. A fallen Stalker sparked nearby, no longer a threat, but she knew there likely were two more hot on her heels. She had no time to question just how the first Stalker had been killed.
A very faint, iridescent shimmer suddenly rippled in her peripheral vision, cutting through the air at almost incomprehensible speeds. In the same instant that she ripped out an arrow and knocked it, she was being thrown backwards by the whip of a metallic tail. Screeching, shimmering metal connected squarely with her chest, a small ‘oomph’ all she could manage as the breath was forced from her lungs. That damned grass did nothing to cushion her fall backwards and her head collided solidly with the cold earth beneath her. Her vision blurred, the tall grass above her swimming in a sea of red. A ringing in her ears muffled all sound as time seemed to slow and bend in ways it shouldn’t.
Failure here wasn’t an option unless she wanted to meet an uncharacteristic end. The thought quickened her pulse but did nothing to dispel the disorientation she felt as she tried to push herself up, bow still firmly in her fist. She’d taken falls countless times before, had survived much worse than this. This was not how she was going out damn it.
Despite it all, she could barely move as the distinct whirring sound of a Stalker’s servomotors grew nearer, no doubt searching for it’s prey. She had to move…she had to fight.
She summoned enough strength to push herself upwards, red hair waving in tandem with the grass. The Stalker stood just paces ahead of her, uncloaking itself as it’s head whipped in her direction. Pulses of purple were strung about it’s body and they seemed only to brighten as Aloy’s eyes desperately tried to focus.
Daemonic.
A second Stalker appeared, also revealing itself just behind the other.
“Aloy!” A faint, muffled scream laced with surprise and fear broke through the incessant ringing in her ears. She dared not take her eyes away from the Stalkers so she fought the urge to look around to see if she’d truly heard what she thought she did, or if her very likely head trauma was already causing hallucinations.
The Stalker nearest to her whipped it’s head to the side looking for the new threat and instantly cloaked itself once more, while a dart gun rose between the shoulders of the second Stalker. She raised her bow and managed to fire a clumsy shot towards the dart gun, unsurprised that it missed it’s target as it flew off into a tree with a mocking thunk. Her vision was double and unreliable. Her attempt to stand was sluggish at best, making it only to her knees before feeling like the entire world was falling sideways.
Several things then happened in rapid succession.
Mines shot out from the hips of the cloaked Stalker and almost immediately exploded as they were hit by an expertly fired arrow, knocking the Stalker off balance as it clattered to the ground, momentarily stunned.
The second Stalker’s attention never wavered as it’s dart gun rose higher and let loose a projectile just as it was knocked sideways by an unseen force. The dart missed it’s target and instead flew to the side of Aloy’s head. She could do nothing more than blink slowly, unable to appreciate the good fortune of having dodged that literal bullet.
Unperturbed by the intrusion, a second dart was immediately shot out by the Stalker and this time it didn’t miss, slicing across Aloy’s left arm. Her bow clattered to the ground without preamble as she grabbed at the wound with her free hand, still dazed but now also in pain.
Without warning the previously cloaked Stalker stood back up and shifted it’s focus back to Aloy. It flew towards her, paw outstretched, and swiped at her chest viciously before being thrown sideways. The razor sharp claws connected instead with Aloy’s shoulder, throwing her backwards onto the ground once more. She lay still, a tear born of anger and pain falling down her reddened face.
A pained scream was the only sound that she could process before the world started going black around her, unaware that it was a chorus of both her own and another’s.
Her eyes, heavy with the come hither lure of unconsciousness, blinked slowly as she stared up at the porcelain white of the snowy sky. And above her, like her very thoughts willed them into existence, were those honey colored freckles.
One last thought formed in her mind as she succumbed to her injuries and slipped through the thin veil of consciousness.
Definitely hallucinating.
