Chapter Text
19
The scream echoed around the Arena, bouncing off the walls and reaching into the sky above. Half a mile away, a flock of birds took flight. Talanah was going to be sick. She could feel it, turning her blood hot and burning at her throat. Her knees were going to buckle. She clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to force it down. Everything in her body screamed Aloy .
The redhead was on her knees, slouched sideways in the sand, her mouth open, her eyes slightly glazed. She stared up at the Lowland sun, blazing under its heat. Blood flowed freely: down her face, over her armour, down her legs, her arms, her wrists. She was nearly choking on it. The spike, broken and jagged, stuck out at a sickening angle. It was stained almost black with Aloy’s blood. Red droplets dripped onto the sand in big, fat beads, dribbling down Aloy’s chin. It had watered her cheeks, mixing in with the blood and the mess and the mucus and the sand. Talanah realised then that she had never seen Aloy cry before.
Rain began to pour through pure daylight. The Sun wails .
She clutched Kotallo’s arm. “Stop this.” She hissed. “You have to stop this.”
He did not respond. It was only when she looked directly at him that she realised, he too was crying. Not like a child, never like that, but in a way she recognised. Pulled-back shoulders, a set jaw, a slight tremble to his atmosphere, his breathing coming tightly through his nose and his steady, grey eyes as cold and as furious as steel. A single, sharp tear slipped down his painted cheek. Talanah’s hand fell from his arm and went to his hand. She squeezed it and stared straight ahead, fighting the tears in her own eyes. She understood, and so did he. He couldn’t break from Hekarro’s law…but this was Aloy . Somebody so unlike the Tenakth law and somebody so unlike this world; it didn’t seem natural for Aloy to be treated like a regular person.
The very thought made his chest tremble. He made a noise deep in his throat and slowly, almost imperceptibly, Kotallo let his eyes drift to Hekarro, standing at the balcony’s mouth. The chief watched on, his expression unreadable as always.
In his mind, Kotallo wished he would move. Wished he would make this stop, wished he would turn off the screams of agony from down below, wished he would turn and look the other way. Most of all, Kotallo wished Hekarro would make the tears stop falling from his eyes.
20
Pain. Aloy had known pain all her life. In her childhood, on a hunting field, in her body; everywhere. Her strength stemmed from it, blossomed from it she’d nearly admit, and it had been a long time since it had gotten the better of her. Today might be one of those days.
It felt as though her entire arm had been cut off. As she shoved Regalla away, she fell forward to land on her knees and hands. Agony rocketed up her wrist like lightning through blood. She dropped to her elbows and screamed again, though she heard no sound come out of her throat. Her ears were filled with cotton noise, only a high-pitched whine came through. Her every injury was blood and bubbling blood and hot blood and sick mess. Her skull felt as though it were about to explode. Her eyes felt as though they were about to fall out of her head. Only one distinct thought came to her mind, flashing like a red alarm in her brain:
You are dying.
Aloy didn’t know what to do.
You are dying, Aloy.
Above her, Regalla sneered. She strode forward and crushed Aloy’s already injured hand beneath her foot, twisting and earning another groan of pain:
“Hurts doesn’t it, outlander?” She snarled. Her head tilted down so that her mouth was level with Aloy’s ear. Her next words were like ice: “It is only a fraction of the pain I felt when the Carja slaughtered my family. Do you feel it? Can you taste it? Blood…regret… rage ?” She chuckled darkly. “I hope this pain haunts your every nightmare. I hope you can feel this, always . These broken bones, the cheers for your death, the silence when everybody forgets you. I want it in you, forever . Maybe then you’ll stop caring for a treacherous race that cares so little about you.”
Aloy’s mouth was too full of blood to reply. Even if it wasn’t, she wouldn’t know what to say. Her mind was as cloudy as the sky above her. Everything was foggy and fuzzed in and out of focus. She could barely hear. Her eyelashes began to stick to her cheeks.
Regalla sneered again. “I’m not going to let you off this easy, outlander. If you think this hurts, just watch .”
She straightened up and kicked Aloy in the jaw, making the redhead drop even further down, so much so that her face was nearly shoved into the sand. Regalla laughed, earning a cheer from her squadron above that boomed around the Arena so loud that it nearly drowned out the fast-approaching storm above them.
You are dying, Aloy. You are dying.
She couldn’t get that thought out of her head. It kept pulsing through her head, flashing, but she could find no motivation to fight back against it.
Regalla delivered another blow that sent Aloy reeling backwards, nearly toppling over herself, landing back on her heels with her face turned towards the sun. Raindrops, now starting to come down in full force, splashed onto her cheeks. Her mouth fell open, her broken and bitten tongue trying to catch drops as if she were a child trying to catch snowflakes.
Regalla’s snarl, deep and animalistic, was malevolent. She drew a razor from a sheath at her thigh, bared her teeth, and advanced.
Aloy, through her sticky eyelashes and heat-beaten daze, watched on, helpless and defeated.
21
“Have you ever thought about what it would be like if we’d met much sooner? Like, if we’d met as children instead of now?”
Aloy’s eyes crinkled as she turned her head to Talanah, gazing at her through the flowers. “You’ve been having too much of that sweet-spice I brought along. Either that or you’ve caught a stroke of the sun.”
Talanah waved her off. “Leave off, I’ve got no such thing.” She laughed, gazing up at the dark green canopies above them. “I’m allowed to be imaginative, aren’t I? You’ve seriously never thought about it?”
The redhead plucked a caspia by their shoulders and held it up between her fingertips. “Can’t say that I have.” She said seriously. “There wouldn’t have been any circumstances where we would’ve met.”
“Oh, I don’t know. My father used to take me on plenty of hunting trips to the east when I was younger. I might’ve caught you in a snare or something over the Nora line. We might’ve crossed paths.”
“Maybe. I didn’t leave the Embrace until I was old enough. Even then, I never saw a Carja get far enough into the lands to survive it.”
She finished at that and Talanah decided not to pry further. Aloy had never really spoken of Rost or her time with the Nora, and Talanah chose to believe it was out of reservation that she didn’t speak of the past, nor was it out of a want to keep her Hawk from it. Talanah and Aloy had shared plenty of old stories in their hunting trips together - plenty of terrible stories too - and they both understood that the other had things they wouldn’t talk about. It wasn’t out of resentment or distrust, just self-preservation and protection that they knew the other deserved. If Talanah didn’t ask about Rost, Aloy didn’t speak on matters regarding the Red Raids or what was left of Talanah’s family. Their bond was unspoken and unbreakable and undeniably loyal.
Talanah sat up and picked a flower. She slotted it behind Aloy’s ear and smiled. “It suits you.” She said softly. “Makes you look like one of those Utaru.”
Aloy touched it. “Is that a compliment?”
“I suppose. I’ve always thought the Utaru have a beautiful sense of style.”
“Better than the Carja?”
Talanah smiled. “No. Never that.” She flicked Aloy’s shoulder gently. “We should get going. The Sun is going down.”
Aloy groaned. “No. Not yet, please.”
“It’ll be dark soon.”
“I don’t care. Stay.”
Talanah raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t like Aloy to want to relax. Out of the two of them, she was always the go-getter, always the one that wanted to keep moving, never having time or patience to appreciate what was around her. Talanah reached forward and touched the other woman’s forehead with the back of her hand. It came back hot.
“You feel warm.” She said. “Do you feel sick or something?”
Aloy, with her eyes closed, scrunched up her nose and shook her head. “No. I just like these flowers. And I like relaxing.”
Talanah eyed the caspias and wax flowers and white monte all around them. “Oh.”
Before she could say anything else, Aloy’s arm suddenly shot out and grabbed her, yanking her back down into the space next to her. Talanah landed with an oof , and brought her arm up over her eyes to cover herself from the sun. With her gaze darkened, she relied on her other senses to make out the surroundings again. She could smell the shampoo in Aloy’s hair - the vanilla spice she’d given her a few weeks ago - and the plant oil smeared over her armour. She breathed it in and tried to relax. There was something sharp poking into her back.
“Stop fidgeting.” Aloy muttered. “You’ll pull Stalkers in.”
Talanah scoffed. “Stalkers will come anyway. It’s getting dark , little Thrush.”
“We can take ‘em.”
“You’re on your own with that. This sun is reducing me to ash . I don’t think I can move. I suppose it’s what I get for being at your beck and call all the time, isn’t it?”
“I guess.”
“Tell me, does that second sight of yours ever tell you when you’re being a complete chuff?”
Aloy laughed. “Unfortunately not. That’s why I have you .”
Talanah swatted her. “You ass. I think I’ll have to start calling you my pigeon instead of my Thrush, you’re a complete pain in my ass.” She settled back again and sighed exasperatingly. “Dickhead.” She muttered again, under her breath.
Aloy, beside her, smiled privately, blushed and shook her head. After ten more minutes, she fell asleep.
22
It was a miracle that she had not lost consciousness. The beating had been going on for nearly ten minutes, and Aloy’s face was starting to resemble the insides of a skinned boar. Every few seconds, Regalla’s knuckles opened up a new gash across her pretty face and split her lip again and again and again. She was playing with her, like a child playing with their food.
“Tell me how it feels , Aloy.” She snarled. “Does it burn? Does it hurt? Can you feel every broken bone? Have I broken you yet?”
Aloy’s response was only a coughing, splutter of blood and spit. Regalla laughed.
“No, there’s still somebody in there, isn’t there?” She sneered. “Somebody is still rolling around in that head of yours. Maybe we should fix that.”
She delivered another punch to Aloy’s cheekbone, knocking the redhead sideways but not over. It was an exertion that only fed into her madness, every powered attack weakened and strengthened her verdict in its ever increasing chaos and viscosity. She’d not cut Aloy yet, not with her drawn blade but every so often, Regalla would hold the blade against Aloy’s neck or Aloy’s ear just to gauge a reaction. She wanted to see what Aloy did, what the warriors above her did, what anybody did. Regalla wanted to hear screams, sobs of anguish, cheers for the Nora’s death, cries of despair, calls for blood - anything that would vindicate her desire of brutality upon the younger fighter.
It was when she put the tip of the blade to the area over Aloy’s heart that she got it.
23
Talanah above, had closed her eyes and clamped her hands over her ears. Though Aloy had stopped screaming a while ago, she couldn’t stand to watch or listen to her pain anymore. It was horrible. She could hear every crunch of a broken bone, every point of contact when Regalla punched her again, the sinister laughs that went up from the Tenakth rebels around her.
This, she admitted with great effort and humongous despair, was worse than the night she’d lost her father and brother to the Sun-ring. That night she’d only been a teenager, unable to help in any way, shape or form but here; here she had the power to change it. And she stood, frozen to the spot, unable to move. Surrounded by demons, this was the closest she’d ever be to hell.
She didn’t understand why Aloy wasn’t fighting. She was just laying there, crouched on her knees, staring lifelessly up at the sun. Sure, she was injured, but that wasn’t enough to stop Aloy - it never had been before and would never ever be, in Talanah’s eyes. Aloy wasn’t the type to give up, wasn’t the type to sit down and take a beating for no reason.
She couldn’t help but think of Varl. He had to be the only reason Aloy wasn’t fighting. Talanah hadn’t known the Nora man for very long or at a very particularly close proximity, but it didn’t matter. You didn’t have to know Varl to know what he meant to Aloy. Their bond, despite the upbringings they’d both had, was incredibly tight and, other than Erend and herself, Talanah could only recall Varl as the greatest friend Aloy had ever had.
He was good and kind and, Talanah supposed, that was all that mattered to Aloy. His loss was insurmountable.
That had to be why she wasn’t fighting; why she was just laying there, letting Regalla kill her like this. She thought she deserved this. Deserved this beating, deserved the death that had been inflicted on her friend, found no reason why she should live and he shouldn’t. She could find no way of going on with his death on her hands.
Talanah watched as Regalla pressed the tip of Aloy’s spear to Aloy’s heart.
And she couldn’t take it any longer -
Get up, Aloy. Get up and fight. Get up and take a stand. You have to fight. You can’t give up. Take that anger and use it. Use it like I know you can. Fight! Get her!
It took precisely four and a half seconds and the presence of a sudden blade at her neck that Talanah realised she had said the words aloud, screamed them in fact, into the mouth of the Arena for every Tenakth to hear. A squadman to her right grappled and suddenly held her to his chest, nearly lifting her clean off of her feet as he pressed his scythe to the front of her neck, ready to cut her from ear to ear. The edge of his blade forced Talanah’s chin upwards and she shut her eyes in the stinging glare of the sun. She latched onto his arm and struggled. The rain was still falling, lashing it down, streaking down her face like acid and dark clouds were starting to form above her. Another low clap of thunder rumbled overhead.
Then there was the sound of another blade being drawn and Kotallo’s voice became a low growl in the would-be assassin’s ear.
“You are still under Hekarro’s rule, friend. Spill this blood and I’ll split you from head to toe right here, right now.”
“Do it.” The rebel snarled. “This filth is interfering with the challenge. Kill me now and watch what happens; your death will be much more painful than mine.”
Kotallo’s spear pressed further into his back. “Wanna bet?”
Talanah grabbed a stronger hold of the soldier’s arm, the one he had crossed in front of her chest, and tried to give herself a little leverage because his forearm was practically crushing her windpipe. She struggled slightly to keep her feet on the ground.
“Get…off me…” She croaked.
He laughed and only held her tighter. His other hand was on her hip. Every time she squirmed, he pressed his fingers a little tighter.
“Keep struggling, chuff, and watch your pretty friend die .”
24
Aloy’s soul snapped back into her body the second she heard Talanah’s voice, screaming and desperate through the thunder above her, and she opened her blood-dried eyelashes with a long, suffering creak to see. She couldn’t see her, of course, the only thing she could see was Regalla stood in front of her, snarling and smiling, her eyes wide with blood and madness. Talanah’s screams were only egging her on, but to Aloy, it was like a lightning strike.
Adrenalin kicked in, the blood in her mouth cleared and she managed to open her eyes properly. Regalla grabbed her face.
“Can you hear that, hm? Tell me. Can you hear that Carja shriek ? It’s a shame that I’ll have to kill you before her - it would’ve been an honour to see you in even more pain than you are now. I want you to hear her scream as you die.”
Aloy coughed. She’d lost a tooth. “Don’t you dare.”
The rebel laughed. “And here I was thinking you didn’t have anything to lose. I certainly don’t - why do you think I started this? You were a fool to challenge me, Aloy. You might’ve made a good Tenakth - you’re certainly going to die like one, aren’t you?”
The redhead spat in her face. Regalla punched her in the nose again.
“Now, now…come on, you’ve disappointed me enough already. Don’t do it any further by making a chuff of yourself.”
She punched her again. Another one of Talanah’s screams came up from the balcony. Regalla beamed.
“Shit, we should’ve had her down here watching this, shouldn’t we? Let her smell the blood. Let her taste it. I think she likes you. I like how she screams.”
Aloy’s lip curled. “Shut the fuck up.”
Don’t talk about her, was what Aloy wanted to say. She only didn’t on account of not wanting to add fire to the forge.
She could just see Talanah over Regalla’s shoulder. A particularly burly-looking Tenakth had her almost in a head-lock, one arm against her chest, the other around her middle, a blade to her throat. Through the blood and the rain, she saw it glint in the sunlight. Sickness and rage twisted in her stomach. Talanah was struggling, her hands on the soldier’s arm, her nails digging into his skin, her feet kicking at his legs. Even at this distance, Aloy could see the bruises forming from it and it only made her rage bubble only the more, burning through her blood like blue fire. She could hear the fear in Talanah’s voice, but she could hear the anger too, the determination - and it felt like lightning in her own skin.
A voice, quite unlike any voice she’d ever heard before, spoke into her head. It sounded like some sort of demon.
You are not dying, Aloy. You have strength. Get up. Fight . You are a hunter. A killer. Hunt. On the honour of your name.
She tilted her head back and let the rain splash on her face. Her entire body was like a wired spring, a scorpion in the sand, a snake in the brush:
Yes, Sunhawk. Come closer, Regalla. You are not safe where you stand.
Slowly, again, Aloy let her body feel its strength return. She felt her muscles relax and tense, she felt the roar in her ears, she felt her eyes reddening, maddening, steeling. Her blood became pure ice, her reactions became razors, her mouth became rage. Her temper burned like a match.
Regalla leaned down to her ear. “It really is a shame that you’ll have to die before her, outlander. I want you to hear me tearing her apart, and every Carja after that. I want you to watch the fire and bloodshed of their decimation. She’ll be the first of that abominable race to be wiped from these lands and I’ll send her head to Meridian on a stick and-“
Aloy’s face twisted and she struck:
She anchored her good hand on the ground and powered her entire body up as if it were a spring. She propelled forward, launching the mass of her anatomy into the strike, driving her hips up and sideways, bringing her right leg up off the ground and releasing. Her foot connected with Regalla’s side with such force that it cracked three ribs, two of which punctured Regalla’s lung and the third nearly poked a hole in her heart. The rebel’s eyes, wild and disbelieving, bulged grotesquely as she gasped and fell to her knees.
Aloy, however, wasn’t finished.
As she spun to regain her balance, she dug her hand into her bloody wrist, closed her fingers around the spike and wrenched it free. She hissed in agony at the stream of red that spurted out after it but her grip was strong and she did not drop it. Instead, she, somehow, staggered to her feet and advanced, slowly but surely, towards Regalla’s struggling figure.
The bandit had a hand on her chest, over her heart, heaving in and out. That kick had definitely punctured a lung. Aloy could hear her struggling over the roar of blood in her ears - an awful, shallow sound that made it seem as if she were an empty shell or an animal dying in a snare. Aloy flexed her fingers over the handle, took a deep breath, and struck again.
She drove the spike into Regalla’s neck, just below the point of her jaw, and twisted. Her bloodied hand held the other side of Regalla’s head, cradling it almost in form of an apology, holding her still. She twisted the spike again, then wrenched it away. Regalla’s hands flew to the wound, trying to catch the blood that flowed and spurted faster than a roaring river, and she stared at Aloy in disbelief. The redhead took two steps back, her face mirroring Regalla’s horror at what she’d done. Her vision blurred.
When she looked up and found Talanah’s face amongst the hundreds of Tenakth all staring back at her - her Sunhawk gazed back at her in shock and disbelief. Nobody moved until Regalla fell face first and lay still. Then Aloy, trembling and bloody, took one single step and fell too.
She was unconscious before she even hit the floor.