Ch. 1 The Price Of Greatness
The harsh rays of the sun beat upon his armor with a merciless onslaught, the kind of punishment only a Marshall in self-imposed exile deserved. Tenakth summers were well known to be ruthless, especially at high noon, but if a chaplain had told Kotallo that these crimson rays were glowing with such ferocity only to test the limits of his sanity, he would not be surprised.
"Kotallo, can we take a break?" a young Tenakth whined, dropping the wooden sword to his feet. "We're all so tired and thirsty." As if in conspired unison, the rest of the youngling warriors-to-be dropped their training weapons in protest. "And it's hot too!" they added.
"Do you think the Champion stops and takes a rest each time she finds herself exhausted? Remember this: A true warrior must always endure."
"Champion this, Champion that. All you ever talk about is the Champion!" the feisty child exclaimed, crossing his arms. "I bet half your stories aren't even true! Even the Ten aren't that amazing." He sticks his tongue out and the rest of them giggle along, teasing the appalled warrior.
Kotallo shook his head, mouth agape by the audacity before him. Before he could find the right words to rectify such slander, a stern yet warm warning erupts from behind.
"You children would do well to heed Kotallo and his tales of the Champion. A thousand Acts of Devotion would not be enough to pay her back for all that she's done for our tribe."
Hekarro smiles at the future generation of Tenakth warriors, before greeting Kotallo with a benevolent nod. He returns his greeting with a fist to his chest.
"My Chief, your visit to the training ground is… unexpected." Kotallo said.
"And not without good reason." Hekarro replied. "There is much we have to discuss."
Immediately, Kotallo's large form turns towards his pupils, his massive shadow towering over their slight bodies, shielding each of them from the bright-red rays of the sun. "Rest up soldiers. We shall resume at dawn tomorrow. You are dismissed."
The children cheered, immediately rushing out of the arena. Kotallo keeps a stern eye to that one slanderous whelp, who continues sticking his tongue out at him before taking a bow to Hekarro and scurrying away. Hekarro's soft hum of amusement draws Kotallo's attention back to his formidable chief.
"It is nice to see our future warriors hard at work in their training. You are well-respected by your students."
"I see no respect from where I stand." Kotallo huffed. "They are a stubborn lot."
"They are as ferocious as the Ten themselves, and will carry that fire as they grow up to be reputable fighters of their own right. All thanks to you."
"Thank you my chief," the Marshal bowed, ever so uncomfortable with any sort of recognition and unnecessary flattery . "I only seek to serve."
"Which is why I've come to you for information only you can give."
Kotallo nods, confused but determined to answer as best he could.
"You have spent a great amount of time serving side-by-side with Aloy. I wish to know what you think of her as a Commander."
It was strange to hear her name spoken out loud, and not simply ringing again and again inside his mind. His stomach twists in strange knots at the mere thought of her; the quiet strength she carries in her every worried stride, and the gleam of enduring persistence within her steady, verdant gaze. The way she grasps the very impossible within her calloused palms just by simply willing it so.
A strange sharp ache lances from within Kotallo at the sound of her name alone, though his features don't betray him, Thank the Ten.
"She leads with nothing but the greater good in mind. Far too few among us are willing to make the sacrifices I have witnessed her make for her people… and ours."
"I see," Hekkaro replies with a satisfied nod– "And have you spoken to her since your final battle? It's been a while since I have heard of her visiting our home."
Kotallo's lone hand forms a tight-fist, his palms practically bleeding from the fierce bite of his nails. His face remains impassive though the tension in his voice is palpable as he forces a quick reply.
"The Champion flies to where she is needed. And right now, she is not needed here."
Hekkaro pauses, his eyes weary and grave, as if privy to a heavy decision; one that he does not wish to make lightly. He nods once again– this time with a solemn determination— and with a deep breath utters a confession that would have Kotallo's stomach plummeting to the ground.
"I have decided to court Aloy and convince her to be my Chieftess. "
If Kotallo could turn any paler than the grey-white paint adorning his features, he would guess now would be the perfect time. A thousand thoughts come rushing through his mind, yet not a single thought comes out. Except for carefully chosen words, spoken through gritted teeth and a tightening throat.
"Aloy is a stranger to our ways of courtship. Not to mention that from the time I've spent with her, I've learned enough to know that she will never allow anything to slow her on her mission, let alone a… relationship with a lasting bond."
"Which is why I am asking you for your help, my old friend. Help me convince the Champion that this alliance will be for, as you say, the greater good." Hekarro smiles once again, placing his palm upon his most trusted Marshal and advisor's shoulder.
"I know how highly you think of your Commander and your tales have convinced me. I believe that a marriage with no one less than the Champion can ensure lasting peace within our lands. The people love her, and in time… I hope to learn to do so as well."
"You do not love her, and yet you wish to perform the Ten Rites of Devotion for Aloy?" Kotallo exhaled, unable to hide his surprise. While the Tenakth are known for their ruthless ways, the holy ritual was not one they performed lightly, considering such rites to be an everlasting bond between spirits: inviolable by even death itself.
Lovers, his people take as many as they desire…
…but to perform the Ten Rites– even for politics– is simply unheard of.
"There is rarely room for such frivolities when in the pursuit of greatness," Hekarro mournfully uttered.
Kotallo stood frozen, stunned and entirely at a loss. He could hear his heart battering away, its cacophony loud and piercing against his ribs, and for a moment, he fears that the astute leader before him can hear the way every fiber of his being is screaming in protest. Yet only the small droplets of crimson slowly oozing out in perfect crescents from his fingernails betrayed his frantic thoughts.
"If it is what both you and the Champion wish, then you need only will it so." Kotallo croaks, each syllable devoid of emotion as he bleeds droplets in his fist.
He said so himself:
A true warrior must always endure.
— — —
Aloy had never known silence to be this deafening before.
She knows should be used to it by now. After all, she had lived twenty long years as an outcast, an outsider– more used to speaking to herself than to anyone at all. It had been a tall order for Varl to convince her of allowing others to reside in GAIA's base not half a year ago.
And yet now that they've all ventured out for their missions— the very ones she appointed to them herself— Aloy finds herself feeling… bereft of the companionship she had been taken for granted, the moment she returned home.
"GAIA, how are my friends doing," she calls out to the omnipresent AI as soon as her snow-soaked boots enter the metal doors of her team's hideout.
"Welcome back, Aloy," echoes loudly throughout steel walls. "There has been no change since our discussion yesterday. All your friend's vitals are within expected parameters and each of them are making small but steady progress in gathering allies for our cause. However, there is a matter of Kotallo that I wish to speak to you about."
Snowflakes flutter down the floor as Aloy shakes her head, unsatisfied. She heads straight to her room to gather a fresh set of armor from her chest. Making hasty strides, she takes every conscious effort not to look around the dark common area – the candles adorning the room left unlit now that no one is around to need their golden light.
"We can talk about Kotallo later," Aloy huffed, anxious and avoidant. "Do you mind telling me more about the rest of my friends first … please?" she grunts apologetically, undressing as quickly as she can so that she can just as quickly head back out. "I, I just need to know that everyone's doing fine."
"As you wish." The mechanical yett motherly voice hummed. "Gathering relevant data. Standby."
"Your sister, Beta seems to be enjoying her time in Plainsong with Zo. I believe that there is a direct correlation between her improving resting heart rate and her increasing exposure to the musical culture of the Utaru. Her dopamine levels seem to reach their peak daily at the same time when the Utaru form a chorus and harmonize with their Land-Gods."
Aloy releases a deep breath she didn't know she was holding. "That's good. Is– is she getting along with Zo?"
"I have not found anything in her public logs to indicate otherwise. In fact, according to my data– they have spent the majority of their time in Plainsong together, with Beta keeping a watchful eye over Zo's pregnancy."
"Zo and the baby are doing well too?"
"Yes. Although her vitals are more indicative of grief. Sadly, according to my knowledge, there is nothing that can help improve this other than time itself."
Aloy's chest tightens ever so slightly, her vision blurring from tears as a heavy stone drops to her gut. She tries her best to breath normally, but the shackles of her ribs are suddenly grasping her too tight that all she could manage are shallow gasps.
'Oh no. Not again.'
The room spins before her, its darkness suffocating. Through broken gasps and on trembling knees, Aloy barely manages not to stare at the empty spot beyond her doors; the very same spot where Varl and Zo would usually be beaming as they bid her a good night's rest. She envied them so much back then: for their easy kinship, for their courage to pour out their souls to another person and make something so beautiful with it.
Now, all she could feel is profound sorrow, and the unending guilt of tearing them apart.
"I-is the baby going to be okay?" Aloy chokes out, lacing up her gear and failing as her hands shake all over the place. She cannot get out of here fast enough.
"Calculating." GAIA whirs, for but a minute. A minute far too long. "I have gathered no data indicating otherwise." she finally replies.
Aloy resigns to a half-hearted sob. Far be it for her to fall apart in the middle of battle, but the damned room won't stop spinning and she doesn't know if it'll ever stop.
"Would you like me to continue?" the AI asked.
"Y-yes. Please." Aloy whispers, concentrating on regulating her breath.
"Alva and Sylens remain at the Far Zenith headquarters. They have been exponentially successful in reverse-engineering their technology and all their locked data. I believe that Alva is enjoying her time dissecting the information about the Old One's approach to ancient animals considered as 'Household Pets'. She has sent you 107 new datapoints since last night for your perusal.
On the other hand, Sylens has once again reported that he demands Alva be stationed elsewhere or he will leave for another planet at the earliest possibility."
"Good. Send all the data points to me." Aloy sighs. "And make sure to tell me if Alva ever needs anything."
"Noted." GAIA replies.
An unexpected but welcome grin cracks on her chapped lips at the thought of her Quen companion regaling over all the forbidden knowledge that is now within her reach. She can feel a swelling of pride for her companion– imagining her putting Sylens in his place with her unseemingly vast intelligence and unending passion for sharing all that they have learned.
"Aloy, I just received a message from Erend. There is a warning pre-fixed on the datapoint, however. He had told me to ask you whether you would like to receive good news or bad news first," GAIA speaks once again, breaking her train of thoughts. "Would you like to hear the memo?
"Why do I feel like I'm gonna regret this?" Aloy smirks. "Go ahead, play the bad news first, please."
"Playing, Audio file-02183099-013. Subject: Bad News"
The booming, boisterous voice of her friend abruptly fills the halls with echoes, and it is a welcome change from its stark, unending quiet. Erend greets Aloy as if he was standing in front of her, and a sharp pang of loneliness quickly ruptures and dissipates in the anxious Nora's chest.
"Here's the thing, Aloy. I've got no problem being accused of insanity by a bunch of closed minded imbeciles. I can take that! Here's what's really got me all up in knots. By the time I've convinced anyone that we've got an enemy coming from the stars, they've gotten too ploughed to remember it when they sober up in the morning!'"
"Of course," Aloy giggles half-heartedly, her shoulders plopping down in a huff of defeat as she listens to Erends frustrations. "And the good news?"
"Playing, Audio file-02183099-014. Subject: Good News" GAIA responds, to which Erend's voice once again followed.
'Good news is, I'll be back in a month or two. With lots of people… And lots and lots of ale. Trust me, Aloy. I won't let you down.'"
Her weary eyes soften at Erend's promise, entirely touched by his devotion. He has come so far, extended his already-unending loyalty, assistance and friendship to her despite all that she was. Aloy knew she would forever be undeserving of such devotion– far more than she ever expected after so many times of pushing him and the others away.
They all must be doing everything they can to progress in their missions. And what does she have to show for all their valiant efforts?
Fuck all.
Because every single lead of hers had turned into a dead end, and every pledge of support she has called for– with the exception of her loyal friends and companions– has been met with nothing but scepticism and pure disdain.
I'm letting everyone down.' Aloy thinks bitterly to herself. The room begins to spin once again. A deep unsettling feeling gnaws on her stomach, clawing at her frayed nerves until her whole body is taut with the kind of tension that could unravel and ignite any second.
"Do you wish to send Erend a message in reply?" GAIA asks softly.
"Tell him… tell him to come back s—" Aloy sniffed, hyper aware of how needy she sounds when she speaks her thoughts out loud. Gathering her thoughts, she replies to GAIA. "Actually, no… Just tell him, I believe in him. Please."
"Message sent."
"Thanks GAIA. I can always count on you." Aloy hums hurrying while she packs up for another week out venturing in the West. "Same time again tomorrow?"
"I will be available in your Focus' whenever you wish to be updated."
Nodding in satisfaction, the Nora all but runs back to the hallway leading out to Tenakth Territory, ignoring the heavy stone that remained in her stomach, one that she expects not to go anytime soon.
"Aloy." GAIA's robotic voice halts her in her steps, a few strides away from the door. "Before you go, I wish to speak to you about Kotallo."
There it was again. That icy boulder, hollowing her from the inside with a single drop of a name. She all but musters the bitterest of smiles.
"What's there to talk about? He's back to serving Hekarro. How would we know how he's doing when he refuses to wear the Focus I gave him anymore."
"Yes. But–"
"Don't console me please. I already feel betrayed enough as it is—" she can't help but ramble on, the poisonous thoughts in her mind gushing out through her lips. A part of her knows how harsh she was being, how she is overreacting over Kotallo's sudden lack of communication. But the larger, and much louder, part of her can't be bothered to care.
"Aloy, if you will please liste–"
"No GAIA, I don't want to hear about Kotallo anymore. I know he's told you his reasons, but how could he not tell me? He told me he trusted me, and what do I get? Not even a single goodbye before he's back at the Grove like nothing ever happened!"
"Aloy, my network detected a signal from Kotallo's Focus. He wore it for exactly 27 seconds before going offline. In this amount of time, I was able to gather his vitals and determine that he is currently very ill or distraught." GAIA cuts the fuming redhead mid-rant.
Aloy blinks furiously in confusion.
"Why would he wear the Focus just to take it off right away?"
"That I do not know. The only thing I can ascertain from the data I've gathered is that his heartbeat is highly elevated, indicating severe discomfort, illness and or sense of impending danger."
GAIA waited for a reply that never arrived, the blanket of quiet once again enveloping the headquarter's metallic was only the tymphany of hurried footsteps madly dashing away, echoing in the corridors, followed by a high pitched whistle and the screech of a Sunwing taking flight into the horizon.
GAIA had never known silence to be this comforting before.
— — —
It was as if a Thunderclaw had shot its roaring cannons, the way Kotallo's ears kept ringing loudly without respite. He paced around his tent mindlessly, his thoughts far too preoccupied with flickering images of bright-red braids, freckled smiles and the faint flush of sunburned cheeks.
The sharp twinge of remorse ebbed in and out of his lungs when he thinks of her… really thinks of her… in a way that he hasn't allowed himself to do so in the long three months that he has excused himself from her command. To have Aloy in his thoughts is to play with fire itself— an act so dangerous that it could easily consume him whole.
He wonders if she hates him for leaving the way he did.
Wonders if she would even be able to understand if he tried to explain his reasons at all.
Kotallo reaches for the Focus he keeps hidden underneath his armor and plays with it between his fingertips. He doesn't dare activate nor place it next to his temple.
It would be so easy to fall into its temptation, to simply give the command and have her connected to him. He could ask her the million questions constantly running through his mind, along with the new million more after hearing Hekarro's admission.
Most importantly, he would be able to know if she was doing well. Which really, was all he wanted to know.
Kotallo's tortured reverie is only broken when he realizes that he had somehow worn and activated the Focus, which was now making familiar electronic beeps as it loaded up. He blinks from the sudden rays of neon pink and blue light forming holograms, almost blinding and unfamiliar after so long of depriving himself of the second sight.
He hadn't expected to feel like this. To feel like he missed home. To feel with just as much bitter yearning for a memory, as he yearned for his missing limb.
" Greetings, Kotallo."
It was GAIA's voice that peels him away from melancholy. Kotallo coughs out unintelligibly, at a loss.
"GAIA, I… I..."
I wish to speak with her.
For all the battles he had fought and won, he was nothing but a miserly coward after all. With the bitter taste of bile in his tongue, Kotallo growls.
" I can't."
With a ferocious movement, he yanks the Focus from his temple and throws it with the force of all his self-loathing. It shatters on the floor to a million pieces, bright sparks of electricity flashing between metal only to flicker and die.
His stomach drops, eyes clenched shut with the grimace of regret.
Kotallo punched the wooden beam supporting his shelter and the lumber groaned, cracking upon the sudden impact. Thankfully, it doesn't give way– merely showering him with a light coat of dust and a healthy dose of splinters underneath his painted skin.
'You are a mess. It is a good thing that you left.'
From outside his tent, he could hear Hekarro speaking with Dekka about ritual preparations.
Of course the presumptuous Chief would want to begin the Ten Rites as soon as Aloy agrees.
After all, who wouldn't want to?
He is no stranger to the spell she casts. The way anyone who would simply pause to behold her for even a moment, can't help falling into her orbit. She was a blinding sun with a hundred moons, unable to fend off the gravity of her mere existence.
But to be near the Sun is to burn into ashes…
…unless you burned just as hot and bright.
Just as Hekarro does.
'A match made by the Ten themselves.' Kotallo thought bitterly.
At this point, the best he could hope for is that Aloy will despise him so much for his cowardice that the mere thought of stopping by Memorial Grove will be too repulsive. Then he would never have to endure her wrath…
… or worse. Her happiness.