Aloy examined the bridge as she approached; it was made of thick logs, lashed together with blue machine cording. Classic Nora design. They used natural materials from the land and the machines that roamed them, finding simple ways to combine them and form everything from bridges and gates to tree stands, lookout towers, even their lodges where they slept.

She was already closer than she had ever been to the heart of Nora life, but now she would enter it for the first time - if the guards would let her. Two of them stood at the far end of the bridge, taking a more rigid stance as she approached. One of them spoke. "Turn back, outcast. You have no place here."

"I will when I win the proving tomorrow. That's why I'm here; didn't you know?" She gave them a confident smile, waiting.

Before the guards could protest any further, the gate opened by itself, and an old woman strode through wearing an ornate headdress. Her long grey hair hung in neat, narrow braids. "For goodness' sake, it's Aloy!" she said. Her bright eyes were brimming with energy, her warm face wrinkled in a broad smile. "Come with me, child," she said, beckoning the outcast past the offended guards. "I've been waiting years for this! Welcome to Mother's Heart!"

They passed through the gate together, and Aloy had her first look. The ground gently rose up to a flat area above. There, drummers performed on a small wooden platform in the middle of a clearing. The area below the platform was crowded with people swaying to the beat, some with their eyes closed and hands raised in the air. A strange, earthy smell wafted by; Aloy couldn't identify it.

"Thank you...Teersa...?" Aloy said, certain from the headdress this was a high matriarch of the tribe, but without knowing for sure which one she was speaking to. Teersa was the only name Rost had given her. She didn't know the names of the others. Aloy realized the other high matriarchs would probably not have given her such a warm welcome. Rost had mentioned they didn't agree when it came to Aloy.

"Yes! Forgive me for not introducing myself." Her eyes glittered with recollection. "It's been so long since Rost raised you high on the mountain and shouted your name to All-Mother. He trained you well, I'm sure?"

"He taught me everything he knows about hunting and survival. I just wish he had told me more about my past. And his past." Her heart sank. If he really, truly was saying goodbye outside the gates, then there was little chance she would ever hear why he was outcast, or what his life was like before that. It crushed her to think she would never see him again. No, she would make sure of that. She had told him herself, "You taught me how to track. I'll find you!"

"I know, child. And I'm sorry, but I must leave you now. So much to do. I must keep the peace between our people and the delegates from Meridian. Tempers are running hot." She indicated a path up the hill to the right, lined by small wooden buildings. "Follow this path. A friend of yours is eager to see you!"

"A friend? But... I don't know anyone here."

"Try telling him that," Teersa said with a smile. There was that knowing glimmer in her eyes again. "Now go, as I must." Teersa walked away with a confident resilience against the frailties of her own body. Aloy wondered how old she really was. Then she began to wonder how old most of the braves were, both men and women. How many survived long enough for their strength to fade? For their hair to turn gray? Rost had said there were only a dozen matriarchs, with just three high matriarchs, but Aloy had no experience with the tribe to have any idea how many other men and women reached a similar age. Life in the embrace was relatively safe, but not easy.

She mentally shook herself back to the present. Teersa had mentioned a friend. Whoever this "friend" was, he could wait for the moment. She wanted to have a quick look around the entrance area before moving forward. She couldn't help wanting to familiarize herself with the area before moving on; it was a habit she was accustomed to in the wilds. It was always a good idea to be familiar with your surroundings; if you had to suddenly make a run for it, or got turned around in a battle, knowing how to get back to familiar territory was vital. Nothing was familiar here. To make it worse, she had the uneasy feeling that everyone here knew who she was, and many of them did not approve of her being here. A haughty glance here and there; a woman who seemed offended that Aloy had accidentally made eye contact with her. It felt like a hostile environment. Aloy's nerve was on a knife's edge.

Aloy approached the throng of people around the drummers. The beat was intoxicating. She had heard drums vaguely from a distance before, but this was an entirely different experience. She wove her way through the crowd, getting closer, then closer still, until she was right at the front. Each drumbeat vibrated in her ribcage. A pleasant feeling. Those around her were swaying to the beat, some raising their hands in the air, others making strange movements that kept pace with the rhythm. She closed her eyes for a moment and listened. The sound filled her ears. BrrrrrrrrUM-pum-pum BUM bum BUM pum-pum. BrrrrrrrrUM-pum-pum BUM bum BUM pum-pum. She heard the footsteps of braves around her, leather shoes tapping the dry ground in time with the beat. An excited toddler somewhere nearby giggling with glee. The slosh of waterskins and the smell of something yeasty coming from them - not water, but something else. Probably ale. Rost had told her about ale.

She opened her eyes again and found she was swaying from side to side, her hips instinctively matching the beat. Matching the sound with her body had a strange kind of satisfaction to it. Smoke expanded in a cloudy puff right beside her, coming from a man holding something burning. It was clearly the source of the earthy smell she had recognized earlier. He, too, was wrapped up in the rhythm, moving in time with the beat.

The drumming continued, and Aloy flowed along with it and the dancers beside her. It consumed her until she heard and felt nothing else, the feel of fabric on her body strangely distant in her consciousness. The trance was only broken when the rhythm changed and slowly beat itself to silence.

She opened her eyes as though waking from a dream, looking in confusion at her surroundings and longing for the familiar rhythm that had thumped its way into her subconscious. The drummers were taking a well-deserved break, and had disappeared from the platform. She realized she had no idea how long she had been under the spell of the drums, but her stomach began to grumble for food. Time to explore some more. There had to be food nearby; she could smell it.

Several small lodges were scattered around the clearing in a circle, forming a path between them on one side that began snaking its way up the mountainside. She watched the comings and goings of the people, and soon learned what many of the lodges were for. One was an alehouse, another sold hunting equipment and weaponry, another sold medicines. Once she had made a complete circle of the area, she meandered her way up the path. Most of these lodges were roughly the same size, meant to house ten to twenty braves. Each was equipped with beds, an indoor fireplace and kettle for indoor cooking, and an outdoor campfire with a second kettle.

She heard shouting up ahead; a man was sitting on the roof of a lodge, his legs dangling over the edge.

"Get down from there!" his wife hollered. "Why do you do this every year? You're embarrassing me!"

The man swayed dangerously, nearly losing his balance before catching it and righting himself. "You never let me have any fun. The view up here - HIC - it's great!"

"Fine, stay up there!" his wife conceded, throwing her arms in the air and marching past Aloy, who stifled a chuckle.

As she continued up the slope, she reached another flat area on the side of the mountain. There was a large wooden platform on the broad side of a lodge hugging the mountain, the platform facing outward. Several long wooden tables took up most of the path in front of it, with people sitting and eating meat off the bone. A large fire was situated on one end, with a couple cooks tending to some meat on a spit. Their rough tent over the cooking area flapped in the breeze coming down the mountain, stoking the flames of the fire. The smell of the meat was rich. Bits of fat dripped from chickens roasting on the spit and sizzled as they hit the coals below.

Her stomach growled again. It had been a while since she had a hearty meal. She approached the cooking tent.

"Hello there! Haven't seen your face before," the cook said, wiping sweat from his brow. The heat from the fire must have felt like it was slowly roasting him as well as the meal.

"I'm an outcast, here for the Proving tomorrow," she told him.

"So you are!" he exclaimed. "Well, you'll need some fuel for the long climb ahead. What can I get you? We have roast chicken, venison, and a little bit of smoked boar left. The boar sure went quickly."

"I'll have some chicken, please. I... eat a lot of venison and boar in the wilds, but we don't have any chickens."

The man turned to the roasting chickens, and his companion stopped turning the spit for him to cut off a leg and part of the breast. His companion caught the meat with a thin wooden plate and handed it to Aloy.

"Careful. I'd let it cool a bit first."

"Thanks. What do I owe you?"

"Nothing, dear! Everyone in the tribe contributed their hunting spoils to this meal."

"But I'm not part-"

"Don't worry about that," he told her, waving his hands dismissively. "No hungry belly will stay that way during this celebration. It's tradition. Please. Enjoy it."

Humbled by his graciousness, Aloy gave him a bow in thanks.

He smiled and poked his thumb to one side. "Get yourself some bread, too."

Aloy's gaze fell on another tent with a temporary stone oven on the hillside. A woman was tending it, moving the bread inside with a large wooden paddle. There must have been several loaves inside, as she seemed quite busy with her task. She gave Aloy a polite smile, reached into a basket covered with linen and drew out a roll, placing it on Aloy's plate.

Aloy thanked the woman and strode over to the nearest longtable with her prize. She sat down and stared at the steam coming off the meat until it began to subside. The fat was beginning to soak into the hand-hewn plate, creating dark grease stains in the swirl of the wood. She picked up the small leg by the bone and took a bite. It was still hot, but not enough to burn her. The meat had a clean taste to it, lacking the gamey flavor of the venison she was used to, and less fatty than boar. The bread was soft and yeasty. The bread she and Rost usually baked in a pot over the fire was much more dense.

Aloy finished her meal and dropped the plate into a dish bin by the lodge, rinsed her hands with some water from a wash barrel, and shook them dry. The rest of the water slowly evaporated as she left the area and continued on up the mountain.

Not far from the feast was a matriarch telling the story of the tribe's history to a big group of spellbound listeners of all ages. Aloy sat down on a wooden stump, her curiosity at its peak. Rost had told her what the Nora believed, but she had a feeling this matriarch would have a much more complete story to offer.

"Listen carefully now, for you'll have to tell this when I'm gone. In the beginning, all life came from All-Mother. People, machines, and beasts. All were her children. They lived alongside each other in the comfort of her wild embrace. But some grew restless. Though they took of her bounty, they wanted more. These were The Faithless.

The machines had whispered to them, promised to serve them, to make them a new world, better than the one All-Mother provided. A world of metal. They told The Faithless they would do all the work for them. Feed them, shelter them, give them a life of ease, of plenty. And so, The Faithless left with the machines. Only The True Children, the mothers and fathers of The Nora stayed with All-Mother.

At first, the machines did as they had promised. They built cities great and terrible. Monuments to their sins. But they would not serve the faithless for long.

A king rose up among the machines, a machine more powerful than any other, The Metal Devil. and then, The Faithless served him, served the machines. That was not enough for The Metal Devil. He wanted all to serve him, and tried to tempt The True Children away from All-Mother.

They would not go. They gathered on the mountainside to cling to her and prayed, more devoted than ever.

The Metal Devil raged louder than thunder. In his fury he came to confront All-Mother, intending to kill her. She struck him down forever. As you know, for his lifeless body is up there still, frozen in shame and defeat. The machines were driven mad by the death of their king and their minds became as wild as beasts. The Faithless abandoned their cities, forced to wander the world without the care of the machines. Only we remain, The True Children of All-Mother. We built all this with the hands that she gave us.

Machines are to be hunted. Metal to be used for scrap, for craft, but never to be adored. Deep down they remain loyal to the Metal Devil, and with every passing year their aggression against us grows as though their master has reawakened.

We must stay true to All-Mother's laws, resolute in our prayers, mustn't we? For the goddess will protect us so long as we live within her Embrace, and follow in her footsteps. Go, filled with All-Mother's blessing, and make her proud!"

The children around her began chattering with excitement. For many of them, it was their first time hearing this story. Rost hadn't left anything major out. He just hadn't delivered it with the same air of wonder and significance. Despite his devout belief in the Nora ways, he wasn't particularly gifted in storytelling.

Aloy's eyes were drawn up the mountain to the giant metal arcs high above, the arms of a gigantic metal beast. The Metal Devil. Were there others like it somewhere? She shuddered to think of the damage a machine that size could do.

Unconsciously, she had started walking up the mountain again, in awe of the Metal Devil, wondering how it had truly been brought down in the first place. Something slowly drew her attention as she was lost in the past. A voice was calling her name.

"Aloy! Aloy!"

People were walking up and down the mountain path around her; she looked ahead and saw a stationary face looking back at her. He waved energetically when she spotted him.

At first, she didn't recognize him. It was his face paint that jogged her memory. A strange mark over his eyebrow like a half-coiled snake, a triangle, and a vertical line on the outside of his eye leading down to a zigzag smudge below it.

"...Teb?"

His eager face broke into a genuine smile. She felt herself smiling as well. It was the young hunter she had saved years ago when he fell from a brave trail into a field of machines. As Aloy got closer to him, her heart swelled - his life could have ended that day. He was alive because of her. She almost wanted to hug him, but restrained herself.

"Aloy, it's you! I heard you would be coming to run in the Proving tomorrow."

"The rumors are true," she confirmed. "It's good to see you, Teb!"

"The pleasure is mine," he said humbly. "I never really got to thank you for saving my life." He turned and drew something from a hide-covered wooden crate. When he turned back around, he held a folded tribal garment across his forearms, made from a variety of hides, machine cording and plates. The natural color of deer hide prevailed, with vivid red and blue accents. "Please accept this. I didn't turn out to be a very good hunter, but I think I make a pretty good stitcher. It should provide you with more protection than what you're wearing." He spoke with respect and gratefulness.

Aloy glanced down at her patchy homemade garment. She and Rost were no stitchers. The seams were irregular, the fit adequate but not terribly flattering. It served its purpose, but not very well. She reached out and accepted the clothing, bowing her head to show her appreciation.

"Thank you. It's beautiful." She ran her fingers over the cording and the strong yet decorative seams. "You really have some talent. The tribe is lucky to have you." She looked up with a smile. "I can't wait to put this on! Thank you!"

"You're welcome! Do you know where everything is?"

"Not really. I got my bearings for the areas down by the entrance, and was just exploring as I head up the path here."

"I see. I'd be happy to show you to the lodge where you'll be sleeping tonight. It's just up ahead. You can change there, too, if you want," he offered.

"Perfect!" They strode off together up the path.

"So. What do you think of Mother's Heart so far?" Teb asked.

"It's... different," she said. "I've never been around so many people at once before. It's loud, but the energy here is so vibrant. The celebration is almost - intoxicating," she said with a wary glance at a brave staggering down the mountain past them, obviously drunk.

"That will take some getting used to, but you'll feel right at home in no time," he promised.

"I'm not so sure about that, Teb. You've been kind to me, but you should see all the dirty looks I've been getting. It's clear that a lot of people don't think I belong here. I don't expect finishing the Proving will suddenly make them change their minds. You don't know what it feels like to be shunned as an outcast."

"You're right, of course," he said. "You can always come find me if you need to vent. I'll be happy to listen."

She gave him a sad smile. "Thank you."

"Well, here it is," he said, gesturing to a wooden lodge to the right of the path. A guard standing at the door caught sight of Aloy and his expression tightened into a glare. Teb raised a hand to his mouth and whispered to Aloy, "I see what you mean..."

Aloy couldn't help herself and laughed out loud. It was nice to have a friend.

"Resh, this is Aloy. She'll be running in the Proving tomorrow," Teb told the guard.

"I know who she is," he growled back.

Aloy gave Teb a private look, stretching the corners of her mouth down in an expression of abhorred repugnance, her eyes wide. He stifled a laugh as she approached the stairs.

"I'm going to change. I'll catch up with you later. Thanks again, Teb!" she called, disappearing into the doorway.

There was no one else in the lodge at the moment. Resh closed the door behind her with an irritable slam. She looked around at the wooden bunk beds and the large fireplace at the head of the room. There was no place for privacy in here. If she started changing, someone could barge in on her. She walked up to a bed that appeared to be unclaimed and grabbed the blanket on top, tucking it into the bunk above it to create a curtain. She removed her bow and quiver, then quickly removed her tattered outcast garment and slipped on the new one Teb had sewn for her. It was a near-perfect fit, sturdy and flexible in all the right places, and comfortable. She lifted one of the front panels meant to protect her thighs and examined its smooth stitching. The blue and red accents along the edges were vibrant. Teb must have dyed the thread with something to get those colors.

As she was reaching up and removing the blanket curtain to remake the bed, the door opened and a young woman came in carrying a quiver of arrows.

"Hi there! Aloy, is it?"

"Does everyone here know my name?" Aloy asked sheepishly.

"Yeah, pretty much," the girl said with a shrug. "You're the first outcast to run in the Proving. It's kind of a big deal. I'm Vala. Nice to meet you."

"Vala," Aloy said, repeating the name aloud to help cement it to memory. "So what's the deal? Everyone parties all evening, and then we rise early to head up the mountain for the trial?"

"Yes, but tonight is the Blessing."

Aloy stared at her blankly, too embarrassed to admit her ignorance.

"It's a ritual honoring our mothers and blessing our journey to become full-fledged Nora braves. You'll light a paper lantern made by your mother, and-" she halted, seeing a pained expression on Aloy's face. "Oh no. I'm sorry. I-"

"It's okay. It's not your fault. I guess I won't be participating." It was common knowledge to the Nora that Aloy had no mother. Many assumed it had something to do with the reason she was outcast. The sad part was Aloy knew just as much as everyone else, except the matriarchs. She would get answers from them soon enough.

"It's a beautiful ceremony," Vala said. "It will be just after nightfall when the sun has fully set, if you want to go. It's between the feasting tables and the area below that with the drummers, on a path with a short bridge over the stream. I won't blame you if you don't want to go, though, after what you've been through. I'm sorry you have been living as an outcast all this time. It's not right. You did nothing wrong."

Aloy offered her a half-hearted smile, not sure what to say, but grateful for the show of support.

Vala seemed to suddenly remember her reason for coming here, and walked over to the bed next to Aloy's and set her quiver down. "I bought these from Karst. He makes better arrows than I do. Might as well have the best gear for the Proving. You should go see him for any last-minute supplies if you need anything."

"I'm good, but thank you."

"Want to go watch the Carja speech? I saw the Matriarchs escorting their envoy just now, on my way in here. It should be fun! The fruit will be flying."

"Sure. I could use some entertainment," Aloy said with a smile, reaching for her bow.

"You can leave that here," Vala told her. "Even with the Carja in town, we have plenty of sober guards ready to handle things if it should get nasty."

"You're probably right, but I never go anywhere without this bow," Aloy said, "unless you think it would be a problem for me to be carrying it."

"Nobody is going to think twice about it. Take it if it makes you feel better."

Aloy shouldered her quiver and her bow.

"Nice outfit," Vala complimented, looking at her clothes. "You get that from Teb?"

"I did! This is my first time wearing it. He really has some skill with a needle; this is definitely the nicest thing I have ever worn."

"He's an amazing stitcher. The Embrace hasn't seen one like him in ten years, from what the Matriarchs say. Most of them who used to sew can't see well enough to do it anymore. Even then, he's something special. His stitches are strong and straight, but he also has a good eye for mixing fabrics and materials. Your garb is no exception. Anyway, let's go." Vala led the way out the lodge door, down the short stairs and up the mountain. Aloy felt a hostile gaze at her back. Resh, no doubt.

The pitch of the mountain rose steeply from the lodge to a flat space above. This was the second-largest gathering spot in Mother's Heart, from what Aloy had seen. A sizable gathering of Nora stood in front of a platform to the left, where Teersa was introducing a priest from Meridian.

Vala grabbed Aloy's sleeve and urged her forward. "Come on! We don't want to miss this!"

The priest began to speak just as they reached the outer edge of the crowd. He spoke with pomp and flourish, opening a scroll to read from it, but the jeers and shouts were so loud that neither Aloy nor Vala could make heads or tails of what he was saying. Moments into his recitation, a steady hail of tomatoes went soaring overhead from the crowd toward the priest. Aloy was shocked by the wastefulness of it.

The priest was stunned into silence and began to step back in retreat. A guard from the Carja envoy standing behind him stepped up to address the angry crowd.

"Nora! Nora faithful!" He ducked just in time to avoid a well-aimed tomato that would have smacked him in the face. "Please. Hold your fruit!" he commanded. The crowd quieted down, and the tomatoes trickled to a stop. "I know you're angry with the Carja. You have every right to be! But I'm Oseram." There was a surprised murmur in the crowd. "The Carja raided and killed my people just like they did to yours. My own sister was taken! So why am I here today, defending them?

The thirteenth Sun-King, Jiran, was mad. Jiran thought humanity was to blame for the machines' growing anger, and claimed that sacrifices would appease the Sun. They changed nothing, but he continued to send his army out to pillage and lay waste to the countryside under the misguided justification of divine will. Someone had to put an end to it. Do you know who? The fourteenth Sun-King, Avad. Jiran's own flesh and blood. Avad killed his own father because someone had to put an end to his atrocities.

I was there the day the mad king fell. My sister and I led the Oseram in taking the city of Meridian for Avad. In return, he made us his trusted Vanguard. I'm proud to protect him and the city of Meridian, once again open for people from every tribe to enjoy. Avad has none of his father's penchant for violence. The message this poor priest means to read to you is an apology, straight from the lips of Sun-King Avad. Please. Won't you lend him your ears?"

Aloy and Vala exchanged an impressed glance. The priest retook the stage and began reading.

"An enunciation of truth-"

Despite the clarity of the priest's voice and the quietness of the crowd, Aloy no longer heard them. Her entire attention was directed at a thick-chested man standing on the far side of the crowd, and the the familiar triangular-shaped relic on his temple. She had been surveying the crowd when she spotted it. She made her way to the back of the crowd without taking her eyes off him, memorizing his face as she drew near.

"Excuse me - where did you get that relic on your face?" she asked him abruptly. He turned, startled.

"Dug it up in a ruin. I see you have one too. How did you - ow!" He reached for his temple as though in pain.

"Are you alright? What happened?"

"Nothing. It's nothing. Just... malfunctioned, that's all. So... how did you come by one of these, again? I thought the Nora shunned the ruins of the metal world."

"They do, but I grew up outcast, so I don't follow their rules," she said, eying him. "Are you sure it malfunctioned? Mine has... never done that."

"Quite sure. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got business to-" His sentence was cut short by the Oseram guard from the platform who jumped down next to them, landing with the muted metal clunk of his heavy armor.

"Making friends with the locals, now, Olin?" he said with a friendly smile, looking from one of them to the other.

"Yes, but I really must be going -" Olin protested nervously, pushing through the crowd and disappearing.

Aloy watched him go, her expression full of confusion. There went the only other person she had ever seen with a focus like hers, and he had not only been unwilling to talk about it, he had been defensive and cagey. The initial excitement of finding someone with a working relic like hers had quickly been snuffed out, replaced with disappointment. She would have to track him down and see what else he could tell her. For now, she turned to the Oseram who was looking at her with curiosity.

"His name is Olin?" Aloy asked. "He is the first person I've seen with a relic like mine," she said, pointing to her focus.

"Yep, that's Olin," the Oseram replied. "He spends most of his time exploring the ruins of the Old Ones, bringing back whatever relics he can find to use or sell. Keeps that one stuck to his face. It looks a lot better on you, though."

"Do you know where exactly he got it?"

The vanguard shook his head. "I don't know which ruin he was in when he found it. Somewhere in the desert outside Meridian. He takes it everywhere with him, though."

"So do I. It's kind of... part of me now. I found mine as a child, not too far from here. It was kind of an accident. So who is Olin?"

There was a strange gleam in her companion's light blue eyes. He rubbed his chin, perplexed. "Didn't realize he was so interesting... There's not much to tell, really. He's a delver, as I said. Has a keen eye for things. Just the type of person you'd want on an expedition. Brought him along to the Nora Sacred Land as a scout." He leaned forward suddenly, a hand extended. "I'm sorry - my name is Erend. And you are...?"

"Aloy," she told him, looking at his outstretched hand. This wasn't a greeting tradition she was familiar with. She held her hand out as well, uncertain what was expected of her.

He smiled, grasping her hand and bending his arm at the elbow. "Aloy. You've never met an Oseram before, have you? This is a handshake. We use it to greet new friends, or business partners."

"I see," she said. "Nice to meet you, Erend." They smiled at each other awkwardly for a moment, still shaking hands.

Erend disguised his laugh as a cough. "We... ah... usually let go after a second," he told her. She released her grip obligingly. "So this is Mother's Heart?"

"It is."

"I have to tell you, this is my first trip to this part of the world. The Sacred Lands really are beautiful. The lush foliage, rolling mountains, and the seas of waving grass... Just gorgeous. Mother's Heart is really... quaint. Maybe you wouldn't mind showing me around?"

"I would if I knew my way around," she said with a shrug, her red hair shining as it moved in the sunlight. "This is my first time inside the settlement gate. I grew up as an outcast."

"Oh," he said, his expression changed to one of regret. "I'm sorry. I'd heard the Nora cast people out like that. Seems cruel to me. So why did they let you in Mother's Heart today if they never have before?"

"The Proving. I'm sure you've heard of it. It's a tradition for all young Nora to become adult members of the tribe, but the Matriarchs also give young outcasts a chance to complete the trial. It's a test of athleticism, skill, and speed, running along the brave trails up on the mountain above us, and completing hunting challenges along the way. If you reach the end, you're a full-fledged Nora brave and part of the tribe, whether you were an outcast or not."

Erend raised a black eyebrow. "It's hard to imagine living as an outcast, especially with the derangement of the machines."

"The what?"

"You haven't heard about the derangement? How the machines are getting nastier?"

"No - not until last night." When Rost had mentioned the growing problem. "Members of the tribe aren't allowed to talk to outcasts. A few of them ignore the rule and do it anyway, but I can count the number of people who have ever spoken to me on one hand, including you." Rost, Teersa, Teb, Vala, Erend. The last two only within the past few hours.

Erend was gaining a deeper understanding of this young woman's sheltered life by the minute. The way the Nora had treated her was cruelly unfair. "I see. Well, the machines have been growing more aggressive and dangerous. Not just around Meridian, or around here, but everywhere. To make matters worse, every couple of years, a brand new type of machine starts appearing. Bigger, stronger, deadlier. The sawtooth is the worst one I've seen in the Sacred Lands. You should see some of the monsters roaming the deserts and jungles around Meridian."

"Does anyone know what is causing it?"

"No. I wish we knew. Machines that will usually startle and run will now turn and fight. The Vanguard has enough to worry about without the nasty surprise of a brand new machine every now and then that we have no idea how to battle. At least we have a capable captain - my sister Ersa. She has this amazing sense of direction; she always knows what to do. You'd like her; she's a strong woman, a skilled fighter, and can drink some of the men under the table. I can introduce you if you ever come to Meridian."

Aloy sighed and shook her head. "The Nora are forbidden to leave the Sacred Lands."

"Something tells me you're not a fan of that policy."

"It seems like... willful ignorance of the rest of the world. Did you know Nora are also forbidden from the ruins of the metal world?"

"I didn't," he admitted.

"As a kid, I fell down into a ruin once by accident. It's where I found this relic," she said, pointing to the focus on her temple. "Sometimes I sneak away from home to go delving. This device... shows me things about my surroundings. I've seen some interesting things from the Old Ones, and would love to see some more. But if I join the tribe, there will be more people to keep an eye on me. It will be harder to sneak away. And if I'm caught, they could cast me out all over again."

Erend raised his chin to indicate his surprise. "They would do that just for trespassing?"

"They would."

Erend looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear what he was about to say. He leaned in to whisper in Aloy's ear. "Then why join the tribe at all?" He straightened up and looked at her face to gauge her reaction. One red eyebrow was raised. She was listening. "The free people of Meridian come from all over the land. Avad welcomes everyone. You would be welcome, too."

Aloy's fingers idly found the fringe of her new garment, toying with it as she considered Erend's words. She turned to look out over the crowd. Every Nora with their face paint, their mark of belonging, their family sign. Everyone except Aloy. Even the other outcasts painted the mark of their family on their faces daily. Rost hadn't allowed her to wear his mark.

She would never forget the day as a young girl when she had found his face paint. Rost had caught her copying his mark onto her own face. She hadn't understood his anger then, and she didn't understand it now. Some part of him wanted to distance himself from her, but why? Because she wasn't truly his daughter? It was a thorn in her heart that had always made her feel even more isolated. Alone. Did she really want to join the Nora without her own face paint? It would always be something that set her apart from them. She could make her own design, perhaps, but everyone would know that and see her as different. The other marks had been carried down through many generations.

She also had a strong dislike for the rules of the Matriarchs. Don't travel outside the Sacred Lands. The ruins of the metal world are forbidden. Don't talk to members of the tribe as an outcast. Their rules were foolish. Ignorant. Harmful. She had a strong feeling that her people should be interested in learning about the history of their world instead of shunning it. No matter how she felt about joining the tribe, she had to take the only chance she had to find out about her mother, and where she really came from. Winning the Proving was the only way.

Erend watched Aloy considering it. "Meridian would be a whole new world for you. I'd be glad to guide you there. Make introductions, show you around. You'd be free to do as you like."

The depth of pain in her eyes as she looked at him then grasped his heart. As much as she wanted to go to Meridian, she was bound by something. He wasn't sure what.

"Look... I hope I'm not making assumptions, but this doesn't seem like the place for you. You're sharper than these folks, and, well... I mean... look at you," he said, gesturing toward her.

She gave him a confused look. "What are you talking about?"

Did she have any idea how beautiful she was? She was a blossom among weeds. Her innocence brought a tender smile to his face. "All I'm saying is... I think you would be very happy in Meridian." He studied her face. Inquisitive, searching. "Let me know if you change your mind." He looked up then at the darkening sky. "Sun's almost gone. I think that Blessing thing is supposed to start soon. I'm going to head down the mountain. Maybe we can chat more later." He gave her a smile, then walked away through the crowd and down the path leading to the ceremonial site.

She watched him go, her heart gripped with uncertainty.

*Looking for two chapters on Aloy's arrival in Meridian? I deleted them for now until I reach that point in the story. I considered posting them separately, but realized they stick pretty close to canon and I intend to change that when I get there.