The rig holding Gaia and her reconnected components, even the ones they thought were lost for good such as Apollo, Eluethia and Artemis, was a sizeable challenge to get down from the tower. Fortunately, with all the Zeniths defeated and Beta’s help, power was able to be restored to the lift and, once on ground level, they cobbled together a sledge and managed to get it across the machine carcass littered battlefield and into the tunnel. On the beach Aloy found a Bristleback to override and drag the rig for them.

By the time they got back to the base, exhaustion had well and truly set in. When Kotallo, Aloy and Beta came down from the vision room where Gaia was reconnecting with the control centre, Erend had poured everyone a drink.

“I don’t want to hear any refusals.” Erend barked. “After what we’ve been through…look, it’s not a celebration…because I don’t want to be…insensitive.”

“But it is a victory, one made possible by Varl.” Zo said boldly. “I think we should sit and celebrate together…although could I beg not to drink the ale? It turns my stomach even more than it ever did.”

“Yeah alright, but I’m trying not to take it personally.” Erend handed Aloy a cup and then Kotallo. Beta accepted hers nervously and asked Aloy in a loud whisper, what is it like? “Like it kicks you in the guts on the way down.”

“That’s probably about right.” Aloy laughed.

“Should we ask Sylens?” Alva looked around at their expressions. “Yes, right…what was I thinking?”

With food and ale, the mood of their gathering became safe once more. The base, that had been thrown into turmoil, seemed to regain some of its sanctuary atmosphere. Kotallo and Alva were able to share what happened to them and hear about the way the Zeniths were cut down by Sylens’ device and the machines.

“Hephaestus did escape again,” Beta sighed, “so we’ll have to come up with a way to recapture it…”

“Whoa, no, no, no…” Erend waved his hands, refilling everyone’s ales. “No shop talk.”

“It’s hard,” Zo admitted, looking around at everyone as they fell silent, “we’ve been so focussed on this mission that it’s hard not to keep thinking about what we need to do…”

“So why don’t we think about something else? Huh?” Erend reclined on his chair as they sat around in a group. “What about…what do we want to do after we’ve caged the Hephaestus beast and Gaia’s got the earth under control?”

“Erend,” Zo leaned forward, “if you’re going to ask that kind of question…I hope you’re prepared to go first.”

“Oh no…I’m the social orchestrator here.”

“We’re in trouble…”

“I’ll go.” Alva put her hand into the air.

“You don’t need to raise your hand, Alva.”

“Oh…right.” She played with her nails as she spoke. “I thought, well, I hoped that…after all I’ve learnt…I’d like to be able to teach others.” She saw their looks. “So much of what the Quen believes is inaccurate and downright wrong. Ted Faro a hero,” Aloy shuddered, “Elisabet Sobeck, a servant to his vision,” Beta gaped at this news, “I know Apollo has learning administrators…but I’d like to play a part in it…if I can get any of the Quen to listen…” Alva’s shoulders sagged. “Not likely…”

“Don’t say that.” Zo insisted. “I would not count myself as much more than a single stalk of wheat amongst the garden of my people…yet through perseverance and stout hearted friendship,” she nodded at Aloy, “the land gods have been restored and Plainsong bears fruit once more.”

“Thanks, Zo.” Alva smiled. “What about you? What do you want to do?”

Zo looked at Aloy who shrugged with a smile as if she knew something the rest of them did not. “I…want to do all that I can…but above all else, I want to be a good mother.”

Everyone nodded…until the nodding slowed and jaws started dropping.

“Uh…say what now?” Erend blurted.

“I am with child.”

“Oh my goodness!” Alva squealed and Erend stood in shock.

“You…you mean…” He blundered as Zo nodded. “A fire in the forge?”

“The Utaru call it bread in the oven.” Zo laughed at Erend’s flabbergasted state.

“I…baby Varl! Or baby Zo!”

“Zorl?” Alva frowned. “Maybe Vo?”

“I don’t think so.” Zo smiled. “Erend…are you crying?”

His big, good natured expression was coated with tears. “Of course I’m crying! My best friend…he’s…a part of him will live on…” He wiped his nose on his sleeve. “I’m gonna be an uncle!” He paused and looked at Zo with imploring eyes. “I mean…that is…if I can be?”

Zo’s face broke into a warm expression. “I would have it no other way. After all, someone’s going to have to teach this child all the things I don’t want him or her to know.”

“And that’s me!” Erend beamed brightly, the sorrow he’d not been able to shake since Varl’s death lifted even if only for a little while.

“Uncle Erend.” Aloy raised her cup. “I’ll drink to that.”

“Here, here!”

They were silent as they gulped down more of the ale.

“So…Beta,” Alva looked at the young woman, “what do you hope for the future?”

“I…I don’t know,” Beta floundered, “up until recently I didn’t think I’d ever have the freedom to choose anything for myself. I’ll probably stay close to the base and use my skill set to help Gaia out where I can…”

“That’s what the Zeniths trained you to do.” Zo pointed out. “Did you ever want something different?”

Beta looked up at the ceiling. Kotallo noticed that the nervous energy she’d exuded since they’d first met her was much reduced. It wasn’t gone entirely but she’d managed to withdraw from the brink of panic she had once existed in. “I feel like every day not under their control is the future I only ever dreamed about. I suppose…I’ll figure it out as I go.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“And I’ll be nearby,” Aloy nodded at her, “I promise.”

“You can’t look after me forever,” Beta told her firmly, “and while I don’t think I could ever do what you do out in the wilds…I’d like to learn to take care of myself.”

“That’s something I can teach.” Aloy assured her.

“I think it’s Erend’s turn.” Zo looked at him pointedly. “After all, you started this conversation.”

“Ah, fair’s fair.” Erend chuckled. “Well, I’m still Captain of the Vanguard of Meridian. I’d probably end up there, carving out my days beating the crap out of trainees.”

“Not running your own forge?” Alva asked.

“Ha, unlike most Oseram, I’m better at wielding metal than I am at welding it,” Erend leaned forward, “see what I did there?”

“Yes.” They all chorused dryly.

“I dunno…maybe one day I’d find a woman who will put up with me and my drinking and then baby Vorl will have cousins to play with.”

“Baby Erends…the land gods help us.” Zo teased lightly.

“Well…come on Kotallo,” Kotallo froze, hoping he would have been missed in the conversation but Erend was a persistent conversationalist, “what do you want?”

“I…it is hardly worth mentioning.” Kotallo mumbled.

“Let me guess,” Alva leaned forward, a twinkle in her eye, “it will involve blood, death and pain, right?”

“Don’t forget more blood.” Erend chuckled. “Come on, Kotallo…or do you need another drink to loosen your tongue.”

“Another drink will loosen my knees,” Alva put hers down, “I’m about to fall over.”

“You’re sitting down already.” Zo assured her.

“Sssshhhhh,” Erend said dramatically, “I wanna hear what the Tenakth wants to say.”

“Wants?” Zo eyed him.

Kotallo grimaced. “I don’t think…”

“You’re among friends, Kotallo,” Zo urged then looked at Erend, “and he’ll be too hungover tomorrow to remember what you said.”

“True enough!” Erend burped.

Kotallo sighed, giving in. “Very well…my parents lived outside the Sky Clan settlements in the valley. They refused to engage in killing other Tenakth.”

“They were pacifists?”

He nodded. “I lived alone with them, learning from them as they kept their corner of the world safe and tilled the soil.”

“I didn’t know any Tenakth did that.” Zo breathed.

“Only they,” Kotallo admitted, “during the Red Raids I was wounded and treated by a Utaru healer…and it was there that I saw your people,” he nodded at Zo, “planting and harvesting their small plots at Stone’s Echo. I learned that other Tenakth were offered in tribute to the Utaru in exchange for food and supplies…”

“Tribute?” Alva asked, confused, glancing between Kotallo and Zo.

“It’s a term given to an exchange of a person for goods,” Zo explained then shook her head, “you wanted to be a Veteran? A Tenakth who became Utaru and trained my people in the ways of warfare?”

Kotallo shrugged. “It sounded like a good life.”

“You…living in Plainsong?”

“No,” Kotallo shook his head, “maybe a plot of land outside, in a forest…with my own ground to till and eager young squads to train…”

“And an eager young Utaru woman to warm your bed and give you children?” Erend asked and Kotallo kept his eyes as far away from Aloy as possible. “Baby Kotallos playing with baby Erends and baby Vorl.”

“That is not…”

“Not everyone is going to have babies.” Alva insisted.

“I just can’t imagine you not wielding a blade…but perhaps if it was a sickle…” Zo mused.

“I think it sounds nice.”

Kotallo blinked and looked at the one person he’d been studiously avoiding while speaking. Aloy gazed at him warmly, her eyes sparkling…and his heart ached. He wished he’d never had the revelation of what he felt for her. Unrequited love was a lonely burden.

“As nice as, say…silken sheets in a bedroom high atop a mesa where servants wait on you hand and foot?”

Aloy rolled her eyes around to Erend. “What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He said, not at all afraid of her sharpened gaze.

“We don’t…” Zo pointed out.

“Aloy’s only got the attention of Avad,” Erend pointed at her, “and you know it. He practically proposed.”

“Excuse me?!” Alva exclaimed and Beta sat up as Kotallo’s heart sank to his feet.

“After he lost your sister,” Aloy folded her arms, “who not only helped him liberate Meridian from his mad father but whom he loved.”

“What? The man can’t fall in love again? That’s kind of harsh.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait…” Alva shook her hands. “Who’s Avad?”

“Sun-King Avad,” Zo said softly, “the Carja king of Meridian…of the Sundom?”

“Yeah, exactly.” Erend chuckled. “Can’t top that.”

“Come on Erend,” Aloy leaned forward, “even if Avad really did love me…can you honestly see me as the Carja queen?”

“Queen Aloy…it does have a nice ring to it.”

“You’re not helping, Alva.” Aloy said with a warning note in her voice.

“I know for a fact that Avad isn’t all that keen on being king. He’s hoping, when his half brother Itamen comes of age, that he can hand it off to him.” Erend chuckled.

“He’s a child!” Aloy exclaimed. “What am I supposed to do? Wait around that long?”

“We are talking ‘future’…and the future can be any length of time away.” Erend argued as Aloy shook her head. “Me, personally…I don’t see the attraction.” Erend admitted. “He’s skinny, he’s quiet and he’s got all that pretty paint on his face.”

“All Carja do.” Aloy argued.

“What does it signify?” Alva asked, always eager to learn more about the cultures that had evolved without what the Quen referred to as the ‘Legacy’ to guide them.

“Family groups, nobility…it’s not just to make them pretty.” Aloy eyed Erend.

“I don’t know why they bother. It’s not like you can mistake Avad for anything other than king in those robes of his.” Erend refilled his stein. “Oseram, on the other hand, don’t feel the need to put paint on our faces. We just tell you who we are.”

“The Quen use paint to mark ourselves with small dots, signifying rank.” Alva said then looked at Zo. “I think the Utaru utilise face paint in the most beautiful way. It’s so…elegant. Does it have special meaning too?”

“Our white markings tell of our role amongst our people,” Zo explained, “I once bore a healer’s marks and then, after the Red Raids, I became a Gravesinger and that is why I look like this.” She looked at Aloy. “The Nora also use paint, do they not? I know Varl had a mark, a blue triangle that was somewhat faded…”

“Blue in the colour of the Nora tribe.” Aloy nodded. “I never bothered. I didn’t consider myself much of a Nora really.”

“I think, though, it’s the Tenakth who really outshine all of us with their tribal paint.” Alva declared. “One tribe but the Desert Clan are red, black and yellow, the Sky Clan are white, blue and that luminous pink and the Lowland Clan are red, blue and white.”

“Kotallo’s paint isn’t any of those.” Beta pointed out.

“I wear the colours of a Marshal.” Kotallo explained. “Yellow for the Desert Clan, blue for the Lowland Clan and white for the Sky Clan. They are the colours of a united Tenakth.”

“That’s so amazing.” Alva gushed.

“I dunno,” Erend studied Kotallo, “you sure all that paint isn’t to just hide the fact that you’re really ugly?”

Kotallo’s mouth curled up. “Perhaps,” he said, not biting at Erend’s taunt, “but better that we keep you guessing…than admit our ugliness upfront…like the Oseram.”

“Yeah…hey!”

“Well done, Kotallo!” Zo laughed.

“That was very nicely said.” Aloy agreed.

“Can I ask,” Alva gazed at him, “if you were Sky Clan and now you’re a Marshal, you must have changed colours…so…does it come off?”

“We must use acid, watered down, to completely remove the paint. It is a painstaking process with many applications.”

“So we couldn’t just pin you down and use a wet cloth to see what you really look like?”

Kotallo’s eyes glittered at Erend. “You could try…”

“Kotallo looks like Kotallo,” Aloy argued, “anything other than…this,” she gestured to him, “would be weird…albeit interesting.”

Kotallo turned to her but before he could ask what Aloy meant by ‘interesting’, Alva declared, “And we wouldn’t want to scrub away his inked deeds, either. They’re Tenakth history.”

Kotallo held his arm out. “Our inked marks, the tales of our deeds, are permanent until we die and then our stories die with us. Our colours may change but our marks remain.”

“That’s the one thing Hekarro really wanted to trade with the Carja.” Aloy admitted and saw Kotallo’s surprised look. “He wanted to learn how the Carja use parchment and ink to record events, triumphs, sorrows…historical happenings. I don’t think he ever wanted to replace the tradition of marking skin but I know it grieved him to lose the stories when the warrior died.”

“That’s something that a restored Gaia could help us with.” Alva said eagerly. “If she was told the Tenakth stories…she’d be a legacy keeper!”

“Perhaps it is best, then, that we learn this method from Gaia…rather than the Carja.” Kotallo mused.

“Whatever it takes,” Aloy sighed, “we’ve lost so much of the old world…I’d like to preserve what we can of the new. One day, in the future…this small gathering of friends…and Sylens, will be the seed that started a new harvest.”

“Nice metaphor,” Zo smiled at her then grimaced, “and now I need to relieve myself again. This bladder of mine…ugh…”