Chapter Text
It's been two months since Gaia was back online.
Aloy’s fingertips carefully examined the frayed weave of the Utaru top in her hands, smoothing and picking at the linen with a determined gaze.
Her last Utaru gear had been lost to the flames of a particularly aggressive machine fight, and she needed to find a replacement. Fast.
NEMESIS was still on its way, and she couldn’t be short on supplies when the time comes– whenever that is. She still has some work to do now that GAIA has almost all of her subfunctions back. The only thing there was to do for now was keep moving, and look for a way to rally the tribes before NEMESIS strikes.
It’s been a while since she’d left the base, running around the wilds and looking for something to quiet her restless mind.
Fighting back sleep, Aloy rubbed her tired eyes with one hand while her other turned the top around to hold it out in front of her, sharp gaze tracing the sleek cut of the Utaru Thresher outfit.
It was almost the same as the Utaru Harvester she had lost in the fight, the only difference being the slightly lighter color of the bodice. Thick blades of an unknown type of leaves were weaved in the same fashion of the banana leaves on the one from before… The change of material certainly granted it with a smoother texture. Satisfied with the craftsmanship, she now tested the weave, twisting it with care. The material gave in effortlessly as it bent around the shape of her forearm.
Aloy replayed the last fight in her mind, mulling over the cause of its disappointing result. If the last outfit had bent with her body a little bit easier, perhaps she could have jumped out of the fire’s way in time.
To Aloy’s surprise, the new, lighter leaves made the bodice flexible, better.
This one will do.
“I'll take it,” Aloy breathed out, carefully laying the chosen outfit onto the stitcher’s counter as she reached for the shard pouch hanging on her belt.
Weariness pulled at her limbs and fingers as she moved, drowsiness and discomfort making her slow and clumsy. It took her a second to unhook the small bag from its place, cursing under her breath as a ruthless migraine split her head, pain worsening no matter how silently she tried to lay the metal shards on the shop’s counter– the spilling sound of the small pieces on the counter sounded as loud as the sharp scream of a Longleg on her ears.
The old Utaru merchant behind the table bowed his head, quietly taking the shards from their place at the tabletop as Aloy once again scrubbed her tired eyes, trying to ease the strain starting to pool at their back. The old man looked at her from the corner of his eye intently as he worked his hands, lithe fingers carefully folding the outfit and tying the reed together on the parcel to secure it while he watched his customer pace silently in front of the stall.
Aloy’s head pounded mercilessly. The sun had started to set beyond Plainsong’s valley, and the dying sun’s glare only made Aloy shield her eyes at the offense, letting out a weary sigh as her other hand came up to rest on her hip. Taking a deep breath, she turned away and closed her eyes, reveling in what little relief the darkness from behind her calloused palm granted. It only lasted a few seconds before her brain betrayed her again and began to focus on the ache in her limbs instead.
Aloy drew in another long, tired breath, trying to ignore the discomfort pooling under the seams of every joint in her body.
She was, for lack of a better word, utterly exhausted.
Time had blurred for her after so many days on the road, and after bringing back Beta and GAIA, her companions had been set on their own paths after leaving the base, each and every one of them moving back to their respective tribe’s territory and beginning to focus on their own missions instead.
…And Aloy chose to wander through the west. Keep moving.
She’d focused on plugging GAIA back in at first, and after that had been taken care of Beta chose to take over as Aloy took the liberty of roaming aimlessly through the west, occasionally calling her sister as she visited settlements and helped the people she’d been too busy to mind while on her mission.
Since then, every Cauldron and ruin along the west coast had been discovered, and trying to point at a random place on the map she had yet to visit for herself had started to prove almost impossible, to Aloy’s growing annoyance.
It all had kept her busy for a while, though. All she had hoped was to satisfy her restlessness, hoping going out and making enough allies could be of help once NEMESIS arrived on earth.
But after a while, it all turned so tiresome. Aloy cursed to herself, suffering the physical consequences of her own stubbornness. She had pushed herself like this before, why was she feeling the repercussions just now?
Every lean muscle on her neck was as tense as stone, and trying to carefully roll it only brought a sharp stab of pain every time she stubbornly dared to re-attempt it, knowing it would only bring the same outcome.
She couldn’t even remember the last time she had had a proper night’s sleep– or the last time she had taken a decent bath, to be honest. Most she had done was hurriedly throw herself upon the nearest lake for a quick soak before trudging out completely wet after, her most recent choice of body paint half-scrubbed and running off her damp skin in blood-red rivulets.
Resting in random shelters around the west had done nothing to restore her energy, either. Nights were spent in deep silence as Aloy laid motionless in the dark, carefully listening to the quiet lull of the jungle while she focused on tricking herself to fall asleep under a fake sense of security and peace, only to be kept awake and defeated by her own nonstop thoughts. The next morning she’d just roll off the makeshift cot, hay strands spilling from the heavily battered mattress and trailing after her as she strutted towards her sunwing to abandon the damn place in bitter annoyance.
Aloy couldn't help but wish for the softness of her own cot back at the base, yearning for the promise of just a bit of rest– It was all she needed, probably. And everything she would allow herself to take –a decent bed that would not spill its contents on the floor at the lightest of movements, or cause a sore back by the uneven lumps carelessly packed into the covers.
Aloy picked out a stray straw of hay from her hair, scornfully waving it away as she paced.
The sole thought of going back to base filled her with a low, soul-lifting dose of relief, aching to once again wrap herself under the perfect blend of soft, clean linens and the comforting weight of warm Oseram blankets she would often indulge in from time to time.
…And Aloy wouldn’t admit it openly, but she also held out hope for the tiniest of possibilities of seeing that one person whose warmth could easily outmatch the Oseram blankets he himself had kindly offered to her.
Erend.
Spending time with him for the last few months had been nice. A constant, peaceful presence that ensured her with just the right amount of casual leisure she needed between missions to relax and soon enough, Aloy had found herself hoping for a bit more.
He’d been such a kind, reliable friend– and even if she wasn’t one to depend on others, Aloy often found herself gravitating to his spot on the base just to check on him or to have a simple chat, play a round of strike, if time allowed.
Just one– she reminded herself –and maybe catch a glimpse of that bright smile of his as she let him take out her sunwing piece, too focused on his easy, yet charming way at making gentle conversation as she basked in the low raspiness of his voice to even pay close attention to his moves.
Back then, no matter the reason, she seemed to seek him out. Watch his ice-blue eyes as they moved, focus on the way his fingers unconsciously tapped away in that curious pattern while he thinked.
Index, middle, ring. Index, middle, ring.
She would trace the healed scars on his worried face with her gaze, wondering about the thoughts that flowed through his head.
Index, middle, ring. Index, middle, ring–
Almost imperceptibly, Aloy’s headache started to fade.
Last time she’d seen Erend, their paths had crossed out in the wilds by mere luck not too far away from the edge of the Stillsands where her hunt for a machine component had started. Settling on Hidden Ember had blessed him with a gorgeous set of sunspots adorning his cheeks– ones that Aloy noticed bending and stretching under the moonlight as a huge smile spread itself on his face at the sight of her standing on the other side of the tall grass.
She remembered the image vividly, almost immediately noticing the way their encounter resembled a pleasant, star-crossed retelling of their reunion back at the Daunt all those lingering months ago.
The two had walked back to the settlement he now called home, and Aloy remembers how the softest of ales slowly swirled in her cup as she propped her head on one of her hands to the sound of his voice on the other side of the makeshift table. Catching up had been pleasant, and listening to him talk for hours in the quiet emptiness of the tower of tears had proved to be an effective way to calm her racing mind.
That night, she had caught a small glimpse of that wonderful twinkle in his eye in the candlelight while he told stories of sand-riddled armor and sun-dazed days. What was it about him that seemed to pull her in? Aloy pretended not to know. His easy-going nature and charm had an effect on her, one she couldn't quite break down and put into the words she needed to say.
She wanted to see him again, just to see if he would let her get close and finally decipher the well kept secret that lay behind his gentle blue eyes–
She couldn’t help but scold herself at the thought– the guilty, alluring image of holding him close to her as their lips met making every inch of her skin sing. She reminded herself of her situation, and no matter how much hated it– despised it –she could only allow herself some rest and quick stops, nothing more.
She had to keep moving.
And either way, Aloy had lost time, whether she wanted to acknowledge it or not. Erend now stood alone on the withered terrace on the ruins of an old city claimed back by tribes folk just as bright as he was, and she was stuck all by herself in a constant race against no one other than her own mind and the end of the fucking world. Again.
And perhaps, that was the way things were meant to be, for her own sake.
After a few seconds of silently fiddling with the knot and watching his customer sulk and turn on her feet, the old merchant came to a decision. Blinking his weary eyes back at the parcel with a determined pat on its surface, he snapped Aloy out of her reverie and brought her attention back to him.
Sliding the package towards her, the old man looked up with a kind smile tugging at his lips.
“...I may have something else for you, Champion.”
The constant mention of any of Aloy’s unwanted titles always made her uncomfortable no matter how much she attempted to ignore it. Yet today, she just couldn’t muster the energy to correct the stitcher. She was fighting a losing battle against her own aching body, too tired to speak words she knew would probably be ignored. But before she could nicely decline the stitcher’s offer, the man had already disappeared behind the curtains of the stall, leaving Aloy alone with her parcel packed and ready by her side.
All Aloy could do was pinch the bridge of her nose as she heaved a small sigh, and wait for him to come back.
After a few seconds the merchant returned from behind the curtain, and as he got closer, Aloy looked him over with a small sense of curiosity, eyes roving everywhere until they caught on the small item the older man held in his hands.
“Please, accept this gift," The stitcher presented the small pack to her with the same kind smile from before. The pouch was rectangular, carefully tied together with reeds of Utaru make. “A small gesture for everything you’ve done for our tribe.”
Aloy eyed the item the merchant held out, hands hesitating for a second before taking the gift and presenting the old man with a thankful smile as she nodded, gazing down onto the item.
It was small and tightly packed– banana leaves, she noticed –the pack's shape not quite hinting at what could be stored inside. She made an attempt to open it, only to be stopped immediately by the merchant.
“Don’t open it yet. It's best if you open it when home.”
Aloy looked up to meet his gaze, eyebrows slightly raised in curiosity at the very strange request. A small part of her wondered if said gift was a trap or a bomb– an unusual, yet creative attempt at taking her out by surprise. It wouldn't be the first time.
The dumb thought passed through her mind, making her smile.
The Utaru don’t craft with Blaze. Closest thing she could imagine to an actual bomb had been big and heavy and made by an angry Oseram tinker– Only for it to be thrown out a window by her about a year ago, she recalls – but this kind stitcher certainly was no angry Oseram, and this surely wasn't a bomb.
“What is it?”
“Incense.” The old man stated as he set one hand on top of the one Aloy held the string of the parcel with, stopping her from accidentally pulling it undone. “To help wind down after a stressful day.”
The man’s words settled in Aloy’s head, the particular wrapping choice made her stare at the gift in confusion, swiftly flickering her eyes back to the merchant’s expectantly.
The Utaru seemed to know exactly what she was thinking, and he quickly assured her the reasoning behind it was because the incense’s scent was too special to showcase freely– meant only to be smelled by the buyer.
Which is strange, Aloy thought to herself. As far as she knows incense is usually bought for their showcased scent, as the incense stalls back in Meridian did. But with the thick packaging in the way, she couldn’t even tell the size or shape the incense had been shaped in. Curiosity eventually won her over, reaching up to make a quick tap on her focus and letting her have a look inside the pouch’s contents while the merchant happily continued to explain the reason for the craftsmanship.
The focus revealed the small, perfectly shaped cones stored inside, yet it failed to show a description of what its components may be. Aloy chuckled to herself in partial satisfaction, tapping the interface off and bringing her attention back to the stitcher with a genuine smile.
“Thanks,” she started, slightly gesturing with the weaved box as she raised it near her face. “Can I at least know what it smells like?” She followed, accentuating her question with the tiniest shake of the pouch with a playful tone on her voice, not quite caring to keep her hunger for answers a secret after being gifted something so mysteriously.
The old man chuckled, delighted with her relentless curiosity. "Well, it's hard to explain.” He began, energetically gesturing to the air as he delivered his next words in a practiced manner. “It's said it’s the aroma of your deepest desires," he marveled. “Made of the most profound things your heart could want!"
Aloy choked down the snort that threatened to escape her throat, not wanting to offend the kind man.
The Utaru merchants had definitely beaten the Oseram ones back in Chainscrape; that was definitely the quirkiest slogan she had heard yet.
“And what would that be?” She prodded with a smile, becoming fully interested in the particular gift she had been given.
“You’ll see…” The man chirped with a smile. “But it seems like you already know what that might be!”
Aloy chuckled, surprised with the old merchant’s energetic charm and bold intuition. Perhaps he’d noticed how tired she was, and provided her with some dreamwillow incense. And if Aloy was being honest, she wouldn’t mind a bit of help at falling asleep this one time.
“Alright.”
Satisfied and with what she had and ready to leave, she carefully stashed the mysterious gift on her pack, a small smile not leaving her lips. “Thanks again.”
“And yes, I can assure you the scent will be pleasant,” the man confidently followed, lifting Aloy’s abandoned outfit from the wooden table and handing it over to her as he bowed his head to her. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it!– Oh, and thank you for everything you do for our land, Champion. May the land bloom in your steps.”
Aloy smiled one last time at the older man, nodding her head once as she turned to leave. As she made her way down Plainsong’s wooden bridge, the incense pouch weighed heavily on her pack.