The next morning, Kotallo left Mother’s Heart with permission, escaping the looks the Nora were giving him. He wasn’t particularly social and had enough of being stared at by the Carja and the Oseram on the journey to the Embrace.
He also wanted to escape all the questions.
Where was Aloy?
How was she?
What was she doing?”
Why has she sent them to the Nora instead of coming herself?
Kotallo rubbed his face, walking down the slope away from Mother’s Heart in his comfortable new boots that he’d strapped his Tenakth decorations, designed to look fearsome and painted in marshal colours, onto the front of. There was a river on his left, rocks on his right and a small portion of the Embrace to be seen in front. He had every intention of walking its perimeter to test the comfort of his boots but spied a track that led steeply up to the right, going around a rocky wall that formed a natural, mountainous barrier between where it was going and Mother’s Heart.
Kotallo looked at the markings on the rock that his FOCUS interpreted. He could see the way to Mother’s Heart and Mother’s Cradle on it but the path he’d discovered wasn’t listed at all.
Curious he took to the path, climbing up the steps that were carved and forged from rock and earth, strips of wood embedded to give something to grip onto on the slopes. He followed it as it curved, going steadily higher and higher, the air crisping until he could almost feel ice in his lungs, contrasting to the burn as he breathed faster and stronger. He reached a lesser slope and turned, admiring the view.
From it, he could see most of the Embrace. It was stunning.
It seemed to possess the best of all the environments that he loved.
The crisp coldness of the Sky Clan mountains, the rich earth of the Daunt and the open sky he admired when on the back of the Sunwing.
He smiled at it, closing his eyes and feeling the breeze caress his cheek.
He turned and continued to climb the slope, up a short ladder to a slope that led to a final incline to a fence. He approached it curiously, fairly certain all Nora lived in communities like Mother’s Heart, Crown, Rise and Cradle. A single cabin was behind the fence which seemed very out of place.
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He stopped at the gap in the fence and peered through. There were some training dummies built into the shapes of Grazers and a campfire that looked like it hadn’t been lit in months. Kotallo studied the cabin, seeing spiderwebs clinging to the eaves of the terrace and snow up the steps.
No one had lived in the cabin for sometime.
This surprised him for it was an excellent building and devoid of all charring and damage from the Shadow Carja machines. They probably didn’t even know it was up here, so high above everything at the back of the Embrace.
Kotallo entered the yard, heading to the cabin and climbed the steps, feeling the old snow crunch beneath his boots. Even though the cabin appeared abandoned, it hadn’t fallen into disrepair.
“Perhaps its occupants died during the siege?” He mused as he knocked on the door, the sound making a dull echo inside. “Even if that were so, why would such a good home go unused? Surely there would be those who needed a place to stay.”
He spied the latch on the door and lifted it, pushing it inwards. With the door locked from the outside, he knew the cabin was empty. It was dark inside with the only light coming through the gaps between the leather window coverings. The walls had been so well built that nothing but the tiniest slivers of light could be seen and those were few and far between. There was a counter built against one wall with a trough set up next to it where he supposed meals had been prepared. Against the back was a large bed, big enough for an adult or two, the furs they had lain on still covering it. Kotallo walked to it, seeing a single indent.
There was a smaller bed on the right side with less of an impression, both in width and in depth. Beside it was a little bow, quiver and spear hanging on the wall. Kotallo’s fingers brushed over the feathers.
“A little hunter…or huntress…” He paused, a tingle running down his spine and he turned to the larger bed. “A single, older adult,” he breathed then looked back at the other bed that had a curtain to keep it private, “a single, younger child…who grew up into a huntress…”
Kotallo stood on the boards of the empty home, his heart quivering.
“This…was Aloy’s home. The home her guardian built. Rost.”
Reverently he left the cabin, closing the door quietly behind, latching it firmly and walking away. His thoughts were drowned out by the pulsing of blood between his ears and his own breaths as he left the yard and stopped on the step outside, feeling almost faint.
“Everywhere I go to run from her…I find myself where she was and is…” He said brokenly.
To the right hand side there was a stone marker with some small ceremonial stone piles and candles that probably hadn’t born a flame since being placed there. Kotallo walked to it and knelt, knowing instinctively whose grave the marker bore witness to.
“Rost,” he began quietly, trembling, “my name is Kotallo…and I serve Aloy. She is well, forging a future for the people of this world with a strength of will I believe you would be proud of. Thank you for training her and giving her a challenge to follow and rise to…and for saving her life even at the cost of your own. We all owe you our lives and our children and our children’s children…to the end of the age.” Kotallo bowed his head. “Rest in peace, noble warrior. I hope to live a life worthy of your example.”