Minding his own thoughts, the Courier slowly made his way through the wastes. Every now and then, he would throw a quick look over his shoulder, as if to make sure she was still following him. To make sure she hadn't fallen into a sinkhole, or strayed off to stare at something that, to him, seemed normal. Of course, everything here was new to her.
Lyannah was her name, he thought, as he once again looked back. She was still there, constantly scanning around, taking in the sights. It was almost like she had never seen a desert.
Just a few hours ago, it hadn't been his plan that she should accompany him. In a way, he had been eager to get away from her, because this sort of situation occurred to him much more than he liked. So he had woken up next to the burned out campfire, and already then considered leaving, while she was still asleep. It would certainly make his life easier, but he felt as if he should at the very least say goodbye, and wish her good luck.
So he waited, and before long she too got up from the ground. They said their good mornings, and she seemed confused, as if she hadn't fully realized what had happened before sleeping on it. With that in mind, it was with a feeling of guilt he approached her, explaining that he really had to get going. She didn't protest, but that didn't make walking off any easier. He had stopped just out of the camp, looking back at her. She just sat there, looking around uneasily. Utterly lost. He found himself feeling bad for her. Within a day she would either be dead, or have stumbled her way to a town. She knew how to fight, sure, but that was all. She had no food, no water, and she couldn't possibly know what to look out for, when traveling the Mojave.
He had sighed to himself, and gone back. He'd extended his hand to her, and asked if she would like to come with him. He'd show her how things worked around here. And with small appreciative nod, she had accepted.
Just like that, he had gotten himself a companion.
As if she knew he was thinking about her, he could hear the sound of her footsteps as she sped up, and walked up next to him. For a while she seemed to look him over. Then, she cleared her throat, and finally mumbled:
"Thank you."
It was slightly amusing. The way she said it, sounded like she'd had to muster up all her will. Rather than commenting it, he simply directed a court nod towards her, and left it at that.
"Might I ask where we are going?" she asked.
He nodded quickly: "We're going to Vegas."
"Vegas? That is a city, I presume?" she asked.
"Sure is. The city of light, they call it. Don't know about the cities where you come from, but Vegas has everything you could ask for."
"I see. And what will we be doing there?" she continued.
"Well, there's a few people I gotta talk to. Then I suppose we gotta get you up to speed on how things work here." He finished.
She nodded: "Yes, that does seem like a reasonable course of action."
After several hours of trekking across the wastes, they were finally approaching the city, with several of the old crumbling structures coming into view. Towering over all of them, was the Lucky 38.
The Courier looked over his shoulder, only to find Lyannah frozen on the spot, staring at the great tower in the distance with her mouth dropped open slightly. It hadn't occurred to him that she perhaps hadn't encountered structures such as this before. He shook his head lightly, and walked back to her side.
"It's called the Lucky 38." He said.
"By the gods... I've never seen anything like it." she mumbled, before turning to the Courier: "Why is it called that? What does it mean?"
He shrugged lightly: "Heck if I know. Guy who owned it is dead." For now, he left out the fact that he himself had pulled the plug on Mr. House.
As they came closer, the damage caused long ago by the great war became apparent. They were making their way under one of the raised highways, when Lyannah stepped up to one of the pillars keeping it suspended. She inspected the cracked concrete, lightly running her hand over it.
"Is everything like this?" she asked.
The Courier nodded to himself, mumbling:
"Yeah. Everything."
She turned her head to him, inquisitively:
"What happened to this world?"
He sighed, stepping closer to her:
"War. A few hundred years ago, tensions between the worlds greatest nations reached the boiling point. Everyone started dropping bombs, and within an hour, the world was ruined. Humanity almost ceased to exist. This is all that's left." He explained, fanning his arms out towards the desert.
"You destroyed your world, and broke your own people... for what?" she continued.
Tugging on his shoulders, he turned away:
"I don't know. No one knows. We know it happened, but it's uncertain who started. Now, we make do. I just wish I could've seen it before."
He felt a hand being placed gently on his shoulder, and turned around to face her. To his surprise, she was looking rather sad.
"Can I show you something?" she asked, and he nodded.
She quickly removed the glove from one of her hands, and gently placed her hand against his forehead. As their skin touched, a burst of white light shot out, blinding the Courier.
His vision warped around. Rather than standing in the Mojave desert, he saw himself standing atop a mountain, staring out over the edge of a rocky plateau. The clouds were beneath him, and through them he saw snowy forests and plains stretching out in all directions. Rivers cut through the rolling hills, and in the distance he heard a bellowing roar ringing out over the landscape.
The vision was brief, but incredibly vivid. He felt like he had been there himself, and he could still feel the chilly air on his skin as it faded away. He stumbled backwards, rubbing his eyes.
"God damn, what the hell was that?" he exclaimed, blinking rapidly.
"A memory." She said.
"Of what? What was that place?" he continued.
She averted her eyes, slowly slipping the glove back on.
"Home." She finally said, meekly.
He stared at her for a moment. Although it had only lasted a few seconds, the image was imprinted in his mind. Had his own world looked like that once?
"I've never seen anything like it! It was-"
"Beautiful." She said, cutting him off with a knowing nod.
Indeed it was, he thought to himself. He didn't say it, but he appreciated the vision very much. He only wondered why she would spend some of her precious magic, on showing him her homeland. It was very generous, and generosity rarely came without consequence in the wasteland.
Regardless, he shrugged it off, turning away from her briskly.
"Come, we ought to move on." He said, as he resumed their approach to the city. No doubt she had expected some degree of gratitude. He could feel her stare in his back, but as he kept walking she ultimately followed along.
Finally, they entered the ruined outskirts of Vegas, passing through the rows of burned out husks that had once been houses and schools and grocery stores. The Courier kept a watchful eye on the broken windows. Fiends had been known to set up ambushes here, murdering and robbing caravan and lone traveler alike, for the valuables they had hoped to use in the city. Lyannah too watched the ruins, yet for what seemed like entirely different reasons.
"People used to live here, didn't they?" she asked quietly. For a relentless killer, she was strangely upset by the prospect of death.
The Courier simply nodded, and said: "Yup." He'd gotten used to the idea, unlike her.
Suddenly, he thought he saw something move out of the corner of his eyes. He instinctively reached his hand out, stopping Lyannah where she was. She stared at him questioningly, and for a while it seemed as if nothing would happen. Perhaps it was just his mind playing tricks on him.
Then a bullet crackled over their heads, only afterwards followed by the sound of gunfire. The Courier quickly pulled Lyannah with him, and dove for cover straight through the nearest storefront window. He felt the cuts from the broken glass on his bald head, but paid it no mind.
The gunfire hadn't ceased just because they were out of sight, and the bullets hammered against the other side of their cover. For now, it held. He looked up to check on Lyannah, finding her slightly disgruntled, but otherwise in mint condition. She had pulled her sword, and he almost couldn't keep himself from laughing.
The gunfire had come from the building straight across the road. He'd hoped they could have reached the city without accident, because the same problem still stood; he was critically low on ammo. Five bullets, exactly. There was no way to tell how many opponents they were facing, so he would have to rely on his aim to get them out of this. It hadn't let him down before.
He looked down himself as he reached for his revolver, fumbling with the holster. At the same time, the incoming fire ceased, and he heard violent curses from the other side of the road. It would seem someone was jammed.
"Now look, I want you to stay put. We're gonna let them use up their ammo, and I'll take them down slowly. You just remain calm." He said.
He looked up at her, only to find that she was gone. Peeking out over his cover, he saw her sprinting across the road, and once on the other side, climbing up the building, and into an upstairs window.
There was a brief moment of silence. Then, the sound of violent struggle burst out from the building, followed by screams of varying degrees of pain and horror.
Cursing to himself, the Courier leap out onto the street, and crossed to the building, revolver finally in hand. Rather abruptly, the noises from inside had stopped. He quickly passed through the bottom floor, finding it clear of combatants and Lyannah alike.
Finally, he made his way up the stairs, ready for anything. The first thing meeting his eyes, was a splatter of fresh blood, reaching across the entire wall. As he stepped fully into the room, he was met by a rather grotesque sight.
On the floor, were three very dead fiends, missing various limbs. Standing at the windows, from where he assumed they had been shooting, was Lyannah. In front of her, stood a single fiend she had left alive. The man was shaking rather violently, and let out a whimper as he fell onto his knees. Strangely, and slightly worryingly, Lyannah was smiling. Just like last time, blood was dripping from her sword. Carelessly, she whipped it up one final time, the edge swiftly striking across the surrendered man's throat. His hands flew up to cover the wound, yet it was to no avail as the life pumped out of him.
"What the hell are you doing?" he yelled, angrily stepping up to her. She slowly turned her head to him, seemingly not understanding the question.
"I killed them. Isn't that obvious?" she said, gesturing towards the pool of blood and dismembered limbs around them.
"Yes, very obvious. But you can't just charge in like that! Did that bullet not teach you anything about guns?" he continued, pointing at her thigh: "And what about him? You don't just execute an unarmed man!" he finished, with an angry nod towards the last of her victims.
She frowned lightly, shaking her head: "He was a risk. What would stop him from picking up a weapon and attacking us from behind?" she retorted, holstering the sword.
"That's not the point! This was reckless. You could have gotten us both killed by charging in like that. Do not do anything like this again!" he commanded.
Her eyes narrowed, and before he could manage any kind of defense, she had drawn her dagger and placed it at his throat, standing mere inches from him. Barely contained rage shone from her eyes.
"Do not fool yourself into believing you have any sort of authority over me. I am grateful that you didn't simply kill me yesterday, and I gladly accept your company so that I may learn about this land... but you do not command me. I will do as I please." She whispered. Their eyes locked in a silent battle, and finally she stepped back, returning the blade to its sheath.
"Are we clear?" she simply asked.
He pushed past her, and made his way outside. It occurred to him, that this woman was an utter contrast to himself. She was mercilessly efficient, and absolutely deadly. A perfect companion, if she could learn to contain it.
He stopped out onto the street, and waited for her to come out. She stepped over in front of him, with a defiant look in her face.
"You're a twisted fuck. But yes, we're clear." He said.
She took a moment to contemplate his words, but then finally nodded in satisfaction:
"Good. Now let's go."
She didn't need to say that twice.
They put the rest of the road behind them in less than an hour, and finally arrived at the gates of New Vegas. As they stepped through, he turned around to face her, with a slight smile on his face:
"Welcome to Vegas!"