Chapter 3: Awakening
He was home. Finally home.
The blisters on his feet shot pain up his legs with every step, but he marched up the worn path he knew so well.
He shouldn't be here, not while he still wore the Legion Red, but he couldn't care anymore. It had been too long since he'd seen them. Too long since he heard their voices.
The door was open. It should have been odd, but he overlooked it. He stepped inside his old home. He saw two figures in the room, a man in green sitting in his father's chair, with a woman in pure white standing over the cooking pot like his mother would.
The man in the chair spoke. It was the old legate, dressed in an NCR Sergeant uniform. "Remember what I told you, Legionnaire. Thrive. Trust your instincts." Before his eyes, the man morphed into his father, before nodding to the woman.
The woman turned to Argus. It was the Head Mother from the Temple, who led the Cult of Mars.
She smiled, looking directly at Argus, though he knew she had been blind for more than a decade. "Son of Mars, a man of war will never enjoy the spoils he obtains for long, but a man of peace will never keep them. Which one are you?"
Argue couldn't speak, choking on a breathe he didn't remember taking.
The Head Mother nodded. "Silence is it's own answer." She too morphed into his own mother, turning back to the pot.
Argue should have been confused, shocked even, but he took it all in calmly. He turned around, looking outside.
The hills around his home were now blood red dunes, with a lone crucifix standing in the distance. A figure was lashed to it. It was too small to be a man, a tattered dress fluttered in an unseen breeze.
Argus awoke. His ribs still hurt, and it was a little before dawn.
He could sleep. He really wanted to.
But with a sigh, he got up. He couldn't disappoint the Head Mother, after all.
He was awake and dressed by the time the Head Mother came. He stood outside his dorm room, awaiting her arrival as had become their ritual. She showed up down the stone hallway, carrying a small roll of cloth. Her white robes fluttered slightly in the drafty hallway, her white shawl left down around her neck, allowing him to see more of the weathered face and greying hair usually hidden from view.
She laughed softly as she neared, kneeling down to his height.
"Ah, awake already I see. It is heartening to see one so young willing to accompany an old woman."
She patted his head before standing.
"Come child, let us greet the dawn."
He waited until she turned to leave before following slightly behind her.
They headed off together, not saying a word until they exited the building, opening to a large outdoor garden. The darkness of night was slowly being pierced by the dawn's entry, as they looked over the beautiful greenery that was beginning to show color from the rising light.
The Head Mother unrolled the cloth, revealing a hand embroidered rug that she set down in front of her. She knelt down, pulling her shawl over her head before beckoning for him to join her.
He did, pushing close to her to fend off the chilly morning air getting underneath his threadbare habit.
She bowed low to the ground, facing towards the sun, before clasping her hands together, closing her eyes and began to pray.
He bowed as well, but waited till when she began to pray to begin the next step of his ritual.
Argus quickly looked around for threats before beginning. The NCR… girl was asleep near a banked fire. There was equipment, and none of it his. Strange but for now the coast was clear.
He took the sleeping bag and pulled it in front of him, facing the rising sun before kneeling down on both knees. He bowed low, his head almost touching the ground, before returning to a straight posture.
He fished around for a cord around his neck and pulled it out, revealing a small knife in a frayed leather guard. The wooden handle was worn and weathered, with only the barest detail left on the eagle head it was carved into.
He undid the guard and held the knife in his left hand, contemplating.
His grandmother watched over him, the knife in his left hand. He'd just received it from his father, the beautiful eagle head shining in the morning sun.
His grandmother spoke. "For everything, there is a sacrifice, my child. Our ancestors gave their lives and selves to shelter us in the Vault. The Gods gave of their beings to create the worlds. Parents sacrifice themselves for their children. And so we give to those who have given, to honor and ask for their council."
Her weathered hands came and cupped his own, her left hand guiding his to point the knife at his open right hand.
His hands started to shake, not saying a word.
His grandmother hummed in acknowledgement of his fear.
"You asked for my guidance, to see the path I trod, and this is the test I give you. There is no shame in turning back, you have done honorably, but now you must choose. Become my apprentice, or find another master in the village."
Her hands squeezed his gently. "But no matter what your choice, I am so proud of you, child. I'll love you as much whatever you decide. "
His hands shook, as he panicked slightly, before slowly settling down. He could stop, find Mr. Risten or Papa to take him as an apprentice, and Gramma would still love him. He knew part of the price for Gramma's lessons would be something like this. But now… now he was faced with the reality of his choice.
But with a deep breath, he remembered why he started in the first place. The whispers he heard in the trees, and voices on the wind, calling him.
He couldn't stop hearing them, so he turned to Gramma to help him listen instead. How he was slowly learning to piece together what he heard and what they meant, the whispers of the Gods and spirits telling him of things that were and were to be. How he was no longer alone because the others couldn't hear them, couldn't seem to understand it.
He wouldn't throw that away. He knew the path he wanted.
Taking a deep breath, he brought the knife to his right hand…
With a small prick, Argus watched the blood on his index finger well up for a second before putting the finger on his forehead, dragging down to form a red line down to between his eyebrows.
He squeezed his finger in the other hand, pressing down to allow the blood to clot quickly.
And then, he listened.
He heard the wind running through the sand, the endless rustle of tumbleweeds, the soft shimmying of his charge as she unconsciously tried to get more comfortable.
He frowned and looked towards the rising sun.
"When did the world get so quiet?" He muttered to himself.
"Probably when I became a soldier." He thought.
The temple had been… tolerant of his belligerent attitude, flexible and patient on his conversion.
Soldiers were anything but that. He'd been hiding his daily sacrifice, but it was when he was sent to the battlegrounds that he stopped doing them entirely.
Now here he was, cut off from the Legion and months away from the Temple, alone and charged with the safety of an enemy.
The wind caught the back of his scalp, and he wondered if it was supposed to mean something.
He sighed, and tried to keep meditating. Breathing deeply he tried to clear his mind.
The sound of footsteps behind him quickly broke that.
He jumped to his feet and spun, raising his fists in preparation for a fight.
He was instead met by an old man dragging a corpse.
A Gecko by the looks of it.
The old man lifted his head and smiled. "Finally awake, I see. Good. Why don't you get started on prepping this here Gecko? Nothing better than fresh Gecko steak, I'll tell you that."
He dropped the Gecko and pulled out a knife.
Argus tensed as a reflex.
The old man raised his other hand, palm open. "Relax, son. I'm putting knife here so you can use it while gutting the Gecko. I'm not aiming to hurt you."
With that, he put the knife near the Gecko along with a large stained cloth and backed up, before walking in a wide circle around Argus back to the gas station building.
Argus slowly relaxed, and walked towards the Gecko.
Looking back at the gas station, he saw the old man rummage through his pack for some supplies, the girl slowly stirring from her sleep from the noise.
"Well, if she feels safe enough to sleep I guess it's fine."
With a shrug, he picked up the knife and the corpse, and walked off to a nearby crevice to get to work.