Seeing as I just finished Bastion and found the ending…less than satisfactory, I decided to create my own. This also takes cues from hints dropped in New Game+ and there are a few things that wouldn't be possible in-game, but whatever. It's short, and simple, and barely any good, but it was fun to write.
…
Zia stood over the railing, gazing out into the sky rapidly moving behind them. Despite the beautiful view, she wasn't really looking. She wasn't doing much of anything, actually, not even thinking. She was just breathing. As far as she was concerned, though, just breathing was the very best thing she could be doing this moment.
It had been one week since The Kid made his decision to activate the Evacuation Plan instead of resetting the Bastion and restoring the world. Though this decision did seem odd, and, in some ways, wrong, Zia didn't like to think about that too much. If he had restored the world to how it was before the Calamity, she'd just relive all of her past, with no guarantee of change. And there wasn't a thing in her past she wanted to relive. So, in many ways, she was thankful that The Kid had decided to leave it be.
It was kind of poetic, she thought. The Kid had been presented with two options; he could either go back and undo a great mistake with all the consequences of doing so and no guarantee of it succeeding, or he could accept things as they were and move on. He'd chosen the latter, and she could see why. They had the Bastion, they had everything they had built and worked for, and they had each other.
Well, for the most part.
Zulf still stayed inside his tent all day. Every once in a while, someone would pop in and try to talk to him. All he ever did was sit on his bedroll, arms folded, and glared at nobody in particular. He never uttered one word or even looked at the visitor. He did eat somewhat, which was an improvement compared to the first two days after The Kid had brought him back.
The Kid had never told anyone why he'd saved Zulf, including Zulf himself. It was one of only three things he refused to speak about; the other two being his decision to not reset the world and his trip to Jawson Bog. She didn't really blame him for not wanting to talk about Jawson Bog; when he'd come back, he would scream throughout the night as nightmares constantly enveloped him. He still hadn't fully recovered. She'd heard that Jawson Bog had completely broken every person who had ever stepped foot into it. The Kid was the first person, ever, to come back alive. She would never press him about what happened there.
But the other two she was more than curious about. Why had he decided to keep going with the Bastion? Why had he picked up Zulf, even when it practically guaranteed his death? She had mused over these questions more times than she could count over the past week. Eventually, she just drew the conclusion that The Kid was a good person and left it at that. Or, at least, she tried to. She couldn't help feeling that there had to be something more to it than that. She just knew it.
She sighed and shook her head. She hadn't intended to come up here to think through all this nonsense. What had happened had happened, and there was no use thinking about it further. Besides, it made her head hurt, as she certainly wasn't here to get a headache. What was she here to do again? Oh, yes. Breathe.
She slowly closed her eyes and inhaled. The air was so…refreshing. Sailing above the clouds, all the air was significantly cleaner than below, and there was another thing about it, too. It was…different. Airier. Like when she was breathing, she wasn't really breathing at all. It, along with many other things she'd experienced after the Calamity, was a unique experience, one that she was glad to have.
Then, without warning, the Bastion stopped.
Most of the other times it had stopped in one place, it had slowed to a gradual halt, allowing people to get used to the shift in movement and find some kind of footing. Not so, now. It was almost instantaneous. One moment the Bastion was going full speed ahead, and the next it was still in the water. Zia was actually shoved backwards by the force, and stumbled onto the ground. Thank the gods she hadn't been looking off the other side, or she would have fallen over the edge.
Actually, the Bastion moving was, in itself, a new experience. Generally, it had stayed still for the entirety of the time The Kid had spent collecting the cores and shards, but with it complete, there were now a host of new things it could do. Moving was one that Zia was personally thankful for. The winds could carry you quite far, but not everywhere, and the breeze caused by the Bastion speeding through the sky, lightened through some kind of invisible barrier that she didn't understand, was an exhilarating feeling. Sometimes, though, it was exhilarating in the wrong ways.
As she stood up, regaining her footing, she saw The Kid tearing off for the Skyway. He gave her a quick wave as he ran. A thought lit upon her. Had they detected another person? Was someone else alive? It had been so long since she had seen anyone new. Well, not counting the Ura she'd been imprisoned by, which she didn't. To meet another person, who could join them on the Bastion…it almost sounded unreal.
She blinked the thoughts away as The Kid jumped through the Skyway. She shouldn't be jumping to any conclusions. It'd probably be best for her to hear what Rucks had to say. He would certainly know why they were stopping.
She picked herself up completely and made her way beneath the monument, where Rucks and The Kid had set up the controls for piloting the Bastion. To think that so much work had gone into building this place. She had to give Rucks credit; he was a very noteworthy man.
She walked straight up to Rucks, who was working away at the controls, evidently trying to completely shut off the Bastion's engines, which had been a bit of a problem lately, or so The Kid had told her. He had the countenance of a grandfather, and the voice of a masterful storyteller. Though she had heard almost every story he could think to tell, she always wanted to hear more. He had a way of making the story come alive, to make her believe that not only was it what had happened, but that it was happening right then, and she could see it and touch it. She felt like the story was breathing down on her neck, and would strike at any moment. It was quite the sensation. She particularly loved his story about how The Kid had fought and journeyed for seven days to free her from the Ura. It gave her a warm feeling to know that someone cared about her that much. Nobody had ever loved her that very much before the Calamity, she felt. Though, admittedly, her relationship with her father hadn't been quite well-developed enough to be certain, and she had once thought a certain someone would, but that was all in the past.
With a final heave on a lever, the engines finally stopped whirring. Rucks wiped some sweat off his forehead with a rag. Once he noticed her, he smiled. His smile was odd in that it was more like a lopsided grin that made you feel right at home. She had never seen him smile any other way. "Well, now, this ain't a place especially designed for ladies."
She greeted him with her own smile in kind. Unlike his, hers was simple, and had a quiet, sincere touch to it. "Why did we stop, Rucks? Did we detect someone else?"
Rucks shook his head. "No, 'fraid not. However, right under us happens to be the old city of Casmine. I don't suppose you've ever heard of the place, have ya?"
Zia shook her head.
"Well, ain't much to tell, I'm afraid. Casmine was the old settlement of the Caels, after they moved from the Motherland but before they created The City. It ain't much but a bunch of old bricks and logs now, but some folk did use to hang 'round the old place. Said it made 'em feel at home. Kid's hopin' there might be some of 'em left."
"Oh." For some reason, Zia felt disappointed. She hadn't really expected anything, had she? So, if she wasn't missing out on anything, why did she feel like she was? "I see. What was with the sudden halt? You nearly killed me."
"Kid had a tough time makin' a decision. No guarantees, and he's barely recovered from his last trip down. By the time he made it, we're on top of the thing." Rucks took a draught of water from an old tin cup he always kept on him. "Well, while you're up and active, and not out there fillin' your head with wind, do ya mind doing an old man like me a favor?"
Zia nodded earnestly. "Of course I will. Just name it."
Rucks stuck his tongue in his cheek for a moment, then took it back out. He had a slight grin coming out of the corner of his mouth, and a look that suggested he knew something she didn't. Then again, he tended to always have that look. "Would ya fill this thing up again?" He handed her his cup.
Zia blinked. She was surprised, but again, didn't quite know why. "Consider it done." She strode out in a determined manner. Maybe she was only going to get a little water, but for all Rucks had done for her, she would have to fill cups of water for the rest of her life to make it up.
About ten seconds later, she came to a sudden stop. Standing at the end of the Bastion's walkway was none other than Zulf.
He wasn't feeling the breeze in his air, enjoying the taste of freedom or contemplating the quality of the air, that much she could tell. No, he was looking. But he wasn't looking out at the sky. He was staring at the ground far below.
"Zulf?"
He lifted his gaze, but didn't turn. He didn't even acknowledge her.
"I didn't think you would ever come out of your tent."
"I didn't," he whispered. "I'm still there."
Zia felt like this was supposed to mean something, that she was supposed to get something from this, but all she got was confused. She began walking toward him, slowly, carefully. "You're outside. You're looking out there, at the ground. You wouldn't be able to do that in your tent."
"Not that tent," he replied quietly.
Zia sighed. "You'll have to explain yourself a little better."
"Rucks told you, didn't he?"
Zia blinked. "Told me what?"
"Everything. He told you about The Kid, he told you about me, and he told you about…her."
Zia paused, and for a moment, wondered if she should just leave Zulf. Get Rucks' water for him, and ignore everything else. No; Zulf was extending a hand out of his shell. She wasn't going to leave it hanging. "Yes," she admitted. "He told me."
Zulf cursed. "I knew I shouldn't have said anything to the old geezer."
"He only told me because I asked him to," Zia said defensively. "Blame me if you have to."
"Fine. I blame you." He sighed. "Whatever the case, you already know."
"Know what?" She was getting tired of his assuming she understood everything he said.
"The tent."
Zia tried, but she couldn't remember a tent being mentioned during his story. "He didn't tell me about a tent."
Zulf scoffed. "You think a traveling ambassador in a enemy country gets his own house?"
Zia caught on. "You mean…you're still in the tent you used when traveling Caelondia?"
"Isn't that what we're still doing?" He still hadn't looked at her.
"But Caelondia wasn't an enemy country. The Ura had peace with them."
"Did they? You lived among them for all your life, Zia. Can you honestly say that what we had could be considered peace?"
Zia flinched as memories of mocking, bullying, scoffing, and betrayal passed through her mind. "They weren't exactly nice to us."
Zulf let out a bark of laughter. "That's an understatement. Make no mistake; it was enemy territory. They've made that clear enough, wouldn't you say?"
"That doesn't explain what you said. About still being in your tent." She was now standing directly behind him.
For the first time, he turned around and looked directly at her. "Doesn't it? Every time I close my eyes, that's what I see. Me, inside my tent, happy, about to be married, and having no clue about what awaited me in a few days." He turned back to the clouds. "I imagine that's how most of them were. Everyone who's now gone once had full lives, loves, and dreams." He scoffed again. "And The Kid ruined any chance they had of living on. What a selfish, self-centered prick."
Zia took a step forward, eyes burning. "Don't talk about him that way!"
He raised an eyebrow and turned back to her. "Oh, you don't like it? Would you prefer it if I said he was an idiotic, asinine jerk? Or a deranged lunatic who should be thrown off the nearest cliff so the oxygen he's stolen from all those he's murdered can be used by something useful, like insects?"
Zia slapped him across the face. He didn't flinch. He acted like it hadn't even happened. "The Kid is the most selfless person I've ever met! He scoured the entire country for people who survived! He spent a week chasing after me, even when it sent dozens of Ura after him. You wouldn't be alive right now if it weren't for him!"
"And who said I didn't want to die?!" He shouted. It was the first time his voice had risen above a whisper, and Zia staggered back slightly with surprise. "I never asked for him to save me! I never asked if I'd want to relive the torture I've been through every second of every day! It's a wonder I don't jump off the edge of this place right now!"
Gathering up her pluck, Zia shouted back. "Well, why don't you, then? It's not like any of us would notice! You sit inside your tent all day, doing nothing but moping and eating our food! You talk about The Kid wasting our air, while you're not even doing anything worth mentioning! The Kid is ten times the man you are! I'd trust him with my life; I wouldn't even give you my favorite rock!"
His eyes met hers with a fierceness. "You really trust The Kid that much?"
Zia swallowed, but held her ground. She nodded.
"Then what's his name?"
Zia opened her mouth to reply before what he had said fully registered. The words caught in her throat. "His name?"
"Yes. Since you obviously trust him so much, you must know."
Zia opened her mouth again, but nothing came out.
"Let me guess: he didn't tell you."
She didn't reply.
Zulf rolled his eyes and turned back to the clouds once more. "Typical."
Zia finally found something to say. "And I suppose he told you?"
Zulf shook his head. "No, and I don't want to know. There's no use in knowing a name if all I'll do is disgrace it."
Zia pulled in her lips as flames lit in her eyes. "Listen, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that Caelondia created the Calamity. I'm sorry it killed your betrothed. I'm sorry that you've been through so much hurt. But, most of all, I'm sorry I gave you that accursed book."
He didn't reply, so she continued. "But I'll tell you what I'm not sorry about. I'm not sorry that you betrayed us, hurt Rucks, and nearly destroyed the Bastion. I'm not sorry you held me hostage and killed Pecker. I'm not sorry that you tried your best to destroy not only us, but any hope we had of fixing all this. Most of all, I'm not sorry that your so-called friends stabbed you in the back, like you did us, beat you down, like you did us, and left you for dead, like you did us. Even now, I wonder why The Kid even saved you. He risked everything to do it, including his own life and even ours. If he died, we never would have gotten that last shard."
"A lot of good that did," remarked Zulf, "seeing as you didn't even use it right."
And that, Zia realized, was the heart of it. In the end, The Kid could have given them all a chance to fix everything, but instead he chose to let things remain as they were. The basic, primary function of the Bastion was never, and would never be, used.
"I don't know why he made the decision he did," Zia shot out, "but I'm positive he put more thought into it than any of us could comprehend. It's done now, so maybe you should just get over it!"
She turned around and stormed off. When she reached the end of the bridge, she stopped and called back. "Maybe he's not even the one you're really angry with."
As she left, she never saw the tear quietly tread down his left cheek.
When she reached out to grab his hand, she hadn't imagined it would have pulled her inside the shell with him.
…
Zia completely forgot about the water.
The rest of the day she spent fidgeting, pacing, and wondering. Something about what Zulf said had gotten to her. For as much as The Kid had given up, even for her, she knew very little about him. She'd heard his story from Rucks, and he spoke to everyone regularly, but, if she were asked for any quirks of his personality, or if he regretted having to kill all those monsters, or even something as simple as his real name, she couldn't answer anything. It wasn't right; she trusted him, certainly, but did he trust her? Who did he trust? Did it even matter?
More than once, out of desperation, she picked up her harp guitar and tried to pluck out a tune, only to get nothing out of it. Her fingers stumbled over each other and she made so many mistakes that she ended up throwing the instrument to the ground in disgust. The only thing she accomplished during the day was making supper, and even it tasted worse than usual. Zulf, as usual, ate in his tent. Still angry, Zia had Rucks take it to him.
It wasn't until late that night, when everyone was asleep, that The Kid returned.
Zia was awoken by a loud thump on the walkway. The same customary thump as given by none other than the world's current hero. Or villain, if you were to ask Zulf.
Zia considered going back to sleep, but she needed to know. This restlessness inside of her wasn't going away anytime soon. She needed to talk to The Kid, and now was a better time than any.
Wrapping her blanket around herself, she got up and tiptoed out of the tent. Spotting The Kid heading for his bedroll, she doubled her pace, moving swiftly, but quietly. She was about fifteen feet away when The Kid noticed her.
Blinking, he turned to her. "I didn't know anyone was still up."
Zia shook her head. "They're not. How did it go? Did you find anything?"
The Kid bit his lip. "I guess you could say that. Nobody alive, though." He blinked, as if he was searching his memory for something. A few seconds later, he found it. "Oh, before I forget, I brought this for you." He reached into his pocket and brought out what looked somewhat like a tribal necklace. It was ornamented with large pearl-like teeth and scales of various colors.
She silently took it. "Thank you," she whispered. "How did you get it?"
He shrugged. "I made it."
She blinked, surprised. "But…how?"
"It's not hard. My mom taught me how. You know, before she died." He spoke so casually of it. He wasn't afraid to talk about his mother, even though it must be hurting like crazy inside.
He pointed out a red scale. "That's from a bootlicker that took me by surprise. The green one's from the backside of a lunkhead, and the yellow one…I don't know what it's called, but it smelled worse than it looked, and it looked like everything in The Wilds had vomited all over it. Luckily, the smell didn't transfer to the scales."
Zia smiled in her usual, quiet way. "And what about these teeth?" she asked, pointing out the three teeth in the front.
The Kid stuck his tongue in his cheek - a habit he'd picked up from Rucks. "No idea what it was. It was big, and weird, and I killed it. Those teeth were its smaller ones."
"That describes at least half the things you've fought," Zia commented.
The Kid chuckled. "I guess that's right."
Zia closed her hand with the necklace in it. Truth be told, she didn't really like the necklace itself, but the sentiment behind it would be more than enough to guarantee that she would wear it every day. "Kid?"
"Yeah?"
"Let's have a drink."
…
Sitting at one of the tables in the dimly-lit Distillery, The Kid poured Zia a glass of Graver Gimlet and himself a glass of Bull Brandy. He'd gotten her to try Werewhiskey once, but it had only taken one sip and plenty of sputtering and coughing to convince both of them it wasn't for her. Something about the drink appealed to The Kid, Zia knew, though she couldn't imagine for the life of her what it was. Thankfully, though, he stuck to Bull Brandy tonight, saving her from reliving the episode. After a quick draught, he coughed and spoke. "As much as I like to get my Pyth on-"
"Kid, you know not to invoke the gods' names unwarranted," she warned him.
The Kid waved it off, but refrained from doing so afterward. "I have to wonder what I'm doing drinking here instead of sleeping in my nice, comfortable bed."
Zia couldn't see how that sack on the hard ground could provide The Kid with any comfort, but she decided not to bring it up. "Kid, we need to talk."
"Well, considering how much you generally avoid this place, I did figure that much out."
"About your decision."
The Kid paused. "Which one?"
"Both."
He sighed. "Zia, I already said I didn't want to talk about it."
"Well, you're going to have to."
The Kid pushed his lips tightly together and didn't move.
"Why did you do it, Kid? Why would you sacrifice thousands of lives just to continue the one you have?"
"Because I'm a heartless son of gun who couldn't give a crap about a bunch of dead people," he answered gruffly. "Satisfied?"
"Kid, we both know I'm not going to believe that."
"Then I did it out of some kind of moral code. That it's better to follow the future instead of dwelling on the past or some crap like that."
"Kid."
He was visibly upset. His cheeks kept flushing, his eyes were downcast, and his eyebrows were tightly-knit. Whatever the reason, he didn't want to tell it.
"Why? For Acobi's sake, Kid-"
"Careful with those names," he rebutted with a hint of sarcasm.
Zia shook her head. "God of Oaths. I used it right. But, Kid, between everyone on here, I'm the one who most supports your decision! I'd far rather live this life than the one I left. By making that decision, you've given me so much. Still, I have to know. Even if the chances weren't too high, the fact that there was a chance to fix-"
"There wasn't," The Kid broke in quietly.
Zia stopped. "What?"
"There was no chance." There was pain in his voice.
This caught Zia off-guard. "But Rucks said-"
"I know exactly what he said, Zia. He said it'd never been tested. The first time he said it, he was right. But now, he's wrong."
Zia was as confused as ever. "Wha-what?"
He stood up. "Don't you get it? This all happened before. The Bastion didn't work. It sent us back, but not enough."
Zia blinked, shocked at this revelation. "What-no-how do you know?!"
"Because I remember it, Zia. My memory activated not long after the time displacement, probably because I'm the one who activated it."
"The time displacem-"
"When I chose to restore the world."
"You mean- you already tried to restore the world?"
"Three times," he replied miserably. "Each time I was sent back to the beginning of it all. I got to watch as it happened. As everyone froze and the world broke itself. And I had to relive everything again. Zulf's betrayal, your capture, the breaking of the Bastion…and each time I chose to restore the world again, hoping that, somehow, it'd be different this time. It never was. This last time…I gave up. I chose to evacuate."
Zia sat back. She understood what he was saying, but couldn't quite comprehend it. "You mean that…all this, even me, exists just because you gave up on remaking the world?"
"Yes? No? I don't know; time travel is one of the most confusing things I've ever known." He sighed.
"And…Zulf?"
"You want to know why I saved Zulf? Fine; I'll tell you." He chuckled, but it wasn't the good kind of chuckle. It was the kind that was used very rarely in stressful situations by people who were accepting their fate. Zia remembered it well; her father had given the same chuckle when he agreed to work on the Calamity. "I rescued Zulf because I felt guilty."
Zia furrowed her eyebrows. She didn't understand.
"The first time, I was too late. Zulf has already been killed by his fellow soldiers. I fought my way out. The second time, I was faster. I found him. But I couldn't take him and fight off all the Ura, so I made my choice. My life over his. I felt wrong about it, but I survived. The third time, to avoid all the terrible things that happened, I told Rucks about what had happened with the Bastion the past two times and together, we kept Zulf from the Notebook for a short while. Eventually, though, he managed to get his hands on it, and, when he realized we were hiding it from him, he misinterpreted why. He left in the worst state I've ever seen him. You thought he was angry when he stormed off this time? It was nothing. When you went with the Ura and later tried to escape, one of soldiers, driven by his own madness and Zulf's incredible anger, killed you."
"Killed….me?" Zia couldn't believe what she was hearing.
The Kid nodded miserably. "When I caught up with him. I was angry. Too angry." He sighed in acceptance. "Instead of helping him, I delivered the finishing blow."
Zia looked away. Finally, she thought she understood.
"Have you ever been truly miserable, Zia? I mean, I know you've been hurt, betrayed, and destroyed and deserted. I know that it feels horrible. So, imagine what it's like to be the person who did all those things and have the heart to know exactly what you did and the understanding of what it meant." He shook his head. "It was bad. Really bad. But I lived. Until Jawson Bog."
Zia's head snapped up. "What did happen there?"
"You've heard the stories? The bog doesn't wage war on the body. It's not a test of your skill or strength. It hits your mind. It takes you for a ride, giving you a look at your own soul and mind. And it almost killed me." He closed his eyes as he recounted it. "I barely survived my first trip. The second trip, I found a countermeasure. If I didn't smell the fumes, I wouldn't be affected. This worked for both my second and third trips. But this last one…a monster came out of nowhere. I had to protect myself. I let go of my nose, I smelled, and I fell. And in the bog, I was faced with the ghosts of everything I've ever let suffer. Everything I was…it was hit and destroyed by the bog. Zulf was there…and I was there, killing him over and over again, in so many ways, so many times…among so many other things. I woke up with holding a spike over my heart. I was about to kill myself in my sleep. Then, eventually, when I found Zulf, I couldn't take it. I probably wouldn't live through the next few minutes if I did take him, but if I didn't I would never forgive myself. It'd hurt me and haunt me until I died. I wouldn't really be able to live at all. I still don't know how I lived through it. It was like they all were firing…and then they weren't. I don't know…all I knew was, I'd had enough. I chose to evacuate. I wasn't ever going back. Never again."
Zia stared at him, silent. Whether she was shocked into silence or just silent as a form of respect was even a mystery to her.
"So there you have it, Zia. That's why I did what I did. Because, in the end, I really am a selfish prick. I'm a coward who can't keep going because I'm afraid of what might happen. And I keep it all in because if I ever let it out, I'll be hated by the only three people I care about."
Suddenly, Zia wasn't sure what she felt for him. Was it pity? Was it understanding? Whatever it was, it certainly wasn't hatred.
The Kid scoffed and turned away. Zia could swear she could see tears forming in his eyes as he turned. "As it is, I've only got two people left. And, after tonight, probably just one, if that."
Quietly, Zia rose from her seat, and then, surprising both of them, walked over and gave The Kid a hug.
"Still three," she whispered into his ear.
The Kid was clearly shocked, but he accepted the hug anyway, and gave one in return. Then, almost silently, he began crying into her shoulder. She muttered soothing words to him.
A minute or so later, he spoke up. "You said three. Did Zulf-"
"No," she laughed. "But I care enough for the both of us."
…
Several minutes later, they had returned to their places at the table, and were exchanging drinks, laughs, and stories.
"Oh, I almost forgot," Zia said. "You've never told me your real name."
The Kid paused.
"You…don't have to if you don't want to."
"It's not that. It's just…strange. I don't think anyone ever asked me for it," The Kid replied thoughtfully.
After a moment he spoke again. "No, I don't want to tell you. That was the old me. I'm not who I was. Besides, I think just 'The Kid' does suit me pretty well."
Zia shrugged and didn't question it further.
…
She didn't know how much later it was when she was wandering around outside, The Kid fast asleep on his bedroll. She felt the need for some sleep herself, but first she wanted to do something. Picking up her Harp Guitar from the ground, she sat down on a log and began to pluck a tune. Her fingers didn't stumble, and she made no mistakes. Slowly, but surely, she started to make a tune, something she'd heard long ago.
As she plucked away, her ears picked up something odd.
It was the sound of a voice. Zulf's voice.
He was singing.
Hints of a smile danced across Zia's face. As she joined her voice in with his, the harmonies swept throughout the camp. Nobody saw them. Nobody heard them.
But everybody felt them.