Arroyo prospered underneath the beating desert sun, not his Arroyo of course, nor the New Arroyo that he helped build, no… this Arroyo was different, built amidst a wide plain of sand, sand, and nothing but sand. Underneath the sand was a water reservoir, to which the people used wells to move the sacred liquid from beneath its underground container and into the ever-waiting mouths of the thirsty. All was good, life was good, and the Chosen One knows as much.
Day passes on by slowly, the sand takes much and gives little, and food has to be hard-earned, water even more so for people outside of Arroyo. Desperate people are dangerous people, they are unpredictable, and usually have nothing left to lose other than their lives. He held onto his spear, the same one that he embarked with during his quest for the GECK, sharpened end pointed at a thief.
"Drop the water."
The thief rasped, voice hoarse as he breathed out heavily, the man was dressed differently, certainly not from Arroyo, he snarled, "You spare no water for others outside of your tribe?" the thief clutched his waterskin, made from the desert's native lizards, stitched together expertly, and filled with Arroyo's water, "Devils! All of you! While we suffer you thrive? Where's the even in that?!"
The Chosen One narrowed his eyes at the thief, spear pointed at the ready, he can see the man's hand itching towards the blade held on his side, "Drop the waterskin, and I'll let you go," the Chosen One loosened his grip on the spear, but still held it at the ready, in case the thief does anything, a sign of trust, but only for the thief, "Hand back what you took, and I'll let you leave with your life." He glanced beyond the thief, noticing the sun slowly dipping below the horizon.
The thief scoffed, fingers brushing by his skinning knife as his knuckles turned white, drawing the waterskin closer to his chest, "And go where?" he chose to fight, knowing that he can't run even if he wanted to, "Go where?!" the thief quickly grabbed his skinning knife and jumped at him, the Chosen One quickly backed away, twisting his spear and cutting the thief's side as he swung it around, sharp edge slashing both the cloth and flesh.
He clicked his tongue; Mynoc's handiwork seemed to be too good, if he still had his old spear before it was sharpened, the blade's edge would've hooked onto the thief, as it had a chipped blade. The thief wheezed as he gritted his teeth, blood pouring from his side as it stained the sand beneath. The man looked up with panicked eyes before dropping his knife and running, the Chosen One switched his grip on the spear, one hand on the wood while the other adjusted his aim.
He breathed in, took a step forward, and launched the weapon like a projectile. It flew towards the thief, impaling the man through the chest as he dropped to the sand, waterskin flying off of his bloodied fingers as it fell nearby. The Chosen One quickly ran to the thief's downed body, grabbing the waterskin and pulling the spear out of the man's chest. He gargled a bit on his own blood before his body became limp. What a shame.
He probably could've let the man go, that much water wouldn't hurt Arroyo in the long run, and judging by the man's attire, he was definitely from another tribe, probably nearby. Seeing how he ran all the way to Arroyo just to get the water for himself, the man was probably an exile, casted out and forced to survive in the harsh desert. Like his grandfather, casted out of his Vault and forced to wander the wasteland.
The Chosen One picked up the waterskin and flipped the thief over, after closing the man's eyes; he left the body there, heading back to his own tribe. He scratched his wrist, now bereft of the Pip-Boy 2000 as he pocketed the waterskin. He gave away the thing to the new Elder of New Arroyo; someone he knew was more capable and more qualified to be the village's leader than him.
He left New Arroyo after a few years of acting as an Elder for the tribe; he quickly passed that title on to people who he knew was more capable of leading the tribe than him. He didn't know how to train anybody, didn't know all the things it took to develop the agriculture or anything, all his time spent wandering the wastes taught him one thing: Survival, only for himself. So he left, because New Arroyo has no place for someone like the Chosen One anymore. That's what he thought when he walked away, walked East until he left California.
From dusty California to the sandy East, he never looked back.
He asked the locals what the name of the land was; they just shrugged, and said that it was home. It reminded him of when he was a child back in California, knowing only of Arroyo, guess only a child can see their village as the world. He joined a tribe a few months in after wandering the desert and bouncing from one village to the next. The Chosen One settled down finally, making this Arroyo prosper much like the one back in California, and hopefully with no Enclave interference.
The Chosen One returned to Arroyo, waterskin secured, as he walked through the village. Tents were set up all around, and most of the people were out hunting for food, well… what little there was anyways. Brushing aside the tent flaps, he handed the waterskin to Hakun, the village's shaman and healer. The woman reminded him of Hakunin, even their names match, but she was a lot less mystical than Hakunin… and a lot less loopy as well, no disrespect to the man of course, may he rest in peace.
"Hoh, you got the water back didya?" she smiled, grabbing the waterskin eagerly, "Nice… y'know, we're sitting on all of this water and I'm just wondering why we don't just hand some to the other villages out there…"
The Chosen One sat down on her bed and grabbed a piece of lizard hide nearby, wiping off the blood on the spear, "The desert is dangerous, Hakun, you should know that," he sighed, "How are we supposed to know if the water don't just evaporate when it gets there, the villages are quite far you know…"
"And besides," he chucked the lizard hide into a basket of dirty clothes, to be picked up and cleaned later, "Most people wouldn't want to walk the desert for days on end just to give away some water."
"That is true…" Hakun sat down next to the Chosen One, hands on her chin as she hummed in thought, "Still, it'd be nice to have an outsider or two come visit Arroyo…" unlike the others, Hakun seemed to know of the world outside of their desert, "The only people that come to Arroyo are either thieves or bandits from other tribes… or the occasional lost hunter or child finding their way home…"
The Chosen One smiled, it's nice to live a simple tribal life. He was overwhelmed with all that stuff in New Reno and Vault City and San Fran and all of that. As a kid that was raised in a tribal village, he missed the simple life of walking around and hunting, sometimes defending the village from larger, more aggressive animals here and there. Hunting in Arroyo doesn't happen every day, more like every other day, what with all the shadow monsters roaming the sands and all that.
Hakun flopped down on her bed as she shooed him out of her tent, the Chosen One took a step out into Arroyo and peered up at the sky. Day passed by finally, and the nights were much colder than the day. Hanging above Arroyo and him was a full moon, he smiled, you don't see something like that every day, it was also good, as the moon provided a fair amount of moonlight for people in Arroyo to move around without spilling or bumping into others. Though the Chosen One wondered, why did the moon look so much bigger here than when he was back in California?
Salem stood amidst a sea of warriors within the Domain of Light as she watched the Brother Gods appear in their monstrous forms. She snarled when the God of Light approached the group, alongside the God of Darkness.
"Who has led you down this path?" the God of Light asked, Salem stepped forward.
"You…" the God of Darkness hissed as he roared, Salem retaliated, sending forth a blast of magic as the warriors followed suit. She knew, deep down in her cold immortal heart, that she stood no chance against the Gods, nor do the warriors accompanying her right now. But she has to try; inaction won't change anything, and even something as futile as this can maybe convince the Brothers to put her out of her misery once and for all.
The God of Light absorbed the magic into a sphere in his hands, he then sighed, "Ungrateful…" the God muttered before handing the sphere to the God of Darkness, "Do with them as you will, I am tired of such… things."
The God of Darkness eagerly grabbed the sphere and squeezed it, shattering the orb, causing a shockwave to pulse across the lands. The warriors following her all reduced to dust, yet she remained, Salem fell to her knees, "No…" the God of Darkness opened his hand, the sphere that was once in his palm now reduced to dust, much like the humans.
"Hmm?" he raised an eyebrow, noticing a smaller sphere at the centre of his palm, "An outsider?" Before he could show the discrepancy to his Brother, the sphere slipped out of the God's palm and into the Fountain below. Salem noticed this; could it be her darling Ozma? Somehow persisting through all of this? "Oh well…" the God of Darkness brushed away the pieces.
"You've made a terrible mistake, girl," the God of Darkness disregarded the curiosity, turning his beastly head towards Salem, "Now you reside here alone, the last remnant of Humanity on this world," Salem's eyes widened, "But your actions here have taught us a valuable lesson, one that we will remember for out next attempt," he scoffed, "This world, so human…"
The God of Darkness watched as his Brother disappeared into a bright light, "No! You can't leave! Not now! Not after what you did!" Salem yelled out, the God of Darkness turned back to regard her, a passing glance, one last time.
"How incredibly disappointing…" Salem watched as the God of Darkness disappeared into a beam of purple light, shooting up into the sky. The beam flew far past the clouds and passing by the moon, shattering it in the process. Fragments began dropping down from above; the Domain of Light now robbed of its vibrance, Salem dropped to the ground, her forehead touching the land beneath her as she clenched her fist.
Her cries were drowned out by the meteors, but she couldn't care less.
The Chosen One quickly scrambled out of his tent with his spear, Arroyo was illuminated in a bright purple light as he saw a beam of light shot into the sky in the distance. The moon was shattered, he cursed under his breath, "Hello?" he yelled out, noticing that nobody was seeing this, Arroyo was empty, "Everyone?! Where is everybody?!"
He ran across Arroyo, towards Hakun's tent, he pushed away the flaps and peered inside, "Hakun?" it was dark inside, the only light being the moonlight peering in through the entrance as the beam of light dissipated. He stepped inside, walking past all the sand that blasted inside of the tent… It was empty, and that wasn't sand.
The Chosen One knelt down and held up the dust, he turned to the bed to see Hakun's clothes on the cot, dust shifting as the desert winds blew into the tent.
He cried.
I will update 'The Jingle Jangle' some time soon, but I'm in a Fallout 2 phase right now so enjoy this instead!
The Chosen One as a character is so cool to me, a tribal taking on the Enclave and then blowing up their oil rig? That's action movie type shit.
Not to mention killing Frank Horrigan, who is a monster in his own right, with melee weapons?! (Even though it's hard as shit to do and definitely not recommended for people who enjoy having fun in their playthroughs)
Also, where is the Domain of Light? If the Land of Darkness still exists on Remnant then where the heck is the Domain? The Gods sure as hell didn't take it with them, Salem broke down mentally in it!
Also also, since it's the God of Light that made the sphere instead of the God of Darkness, things regarding the Chosen One will change as a result of this. Hint hint, the reason why he didn't turn into dust is because of this moment, wink wink.
Thanks for reading! I'll be updating this a lot more infrequently than 'The Jingle Jangle'... but don't count on that, sometimes I get into the writing groove and pump out chapters like a poorly-made Isekai light novel.