Work Text:
The empty shell of HADES lay at the foot of the Spire, Aloy’s lance driven deep into its core. Shouts of victory and celebration echoed across the canyons and rolled through the forests and hills surrounding Meridian.
With the end of the battle, the city vanguard turned overnight from vanquishers of flesh and metal foes to the first line of defense against another type of enemy – loss, destruction, pain. Assessing his remaining ranks, Erend sent out groups to literally and figuratively fight fires. City engineers scrambled to determine which bridges and buildings remained structurally sound, roping off those that were compromised from the waves of attacks. Meridian’s citizens formed long chains and passed pieces of debris slowly from one to another, down and out of the city to be sorted and used for rebuilding. Undamaged inns became shelters for families, palace healers descended on the city and surrounding countryside. Avad opened the grand room of the palace to anyone who was injured or needed a roof over their head.
Almost all of the Maizelands were burned, destroyed, or consumed by the terrible machines. The threat of starvation for the population of Meridian quickly became the most pressing problem. Aloy put herself to work, knowing where her Focus would be of best use. With a small team she spent hours each day in the nearby forests and hills, hunting as much game as they could carry. It was exhausting, stressful work – each arrow that flew wide or change in wind that gave away their position meant more people might go hungry that night.
As days passed the urgency and pace of the work slowed. Teams finished clearing debris from the main streets and larger buildings first, then moved on to smaller alleys and houses. Food stores grew, both from Aloy’s bows and traps as well as from donations and supplies gifted by surrounding villages. There wasn’t a person in the western lands that hadn’t heard of Aloy’s actions and the deathbringers she had defeated. Even if they didn’t understand the details, people were thankful and eager to help her and the citizens of Meridian however they could.
With each nightfall, Aloy and Erend trudged back to Erend’s small home and barely managed to remove their boots and armor before each collapsed into a deep and, thankfully, dreamless sleep.
- - - - -
Two weeks after the defeat of HADES, printed pages were slipped under every door in Meridian. Copies were found tacked to message boards across the city as criers repeated the proclamation as they wandered the streets:
People of Meridian, visitors, refugees, volunteers – at sunset tonight the 14th Sun-King Avad invites all to join and participate in a Ceremony of Remembrance for those lost to us over the past months of darkness. With evils defeated, we remain united and stronger than ever. Let us keep the memory of those who gave their lives for us alight, their spirits forever in the embrace of the sun.
Aloy, still overly tired from weeks of hunting and hard labor, didn’t think to ask Erend what the ceremony would entail. Her mind wandered as Erend led them through the narrow cobblestone streets that evening, she’d already made the assumption it would be some kind of prayer service or reading. Aloy’s mood stayed bright until they turned a corner to discover the main square filled with people and, more importantly, paper lanterns covered in yellow, white, and gold suns.
Aloy froze mid-step and reached for Erend’s arm. As her vision darkened at the edges, her peripheral faded and she could only focus on the seemingly endless rows of lanterns. Her heart raced and threatened to burst from her ribcage as she struggled to take a full breath into her lungs. Her ears filled with the crunch of heavy snow as she knelt in Mother’s Heart, her nose filled with metallic smell of flint striking steel. All she could think were the words “for Rost” as a lantern released from her hands.
Erend was there, always there, placing two strong hands on her arms, turning her to face him.
“Aloy, hey, Aloy. It’s okay, I have you. Just breathe,” he said, his voice full of concern. “I’ve got you. Tell me what you need.”
One deep breath, then another - Aloy forced herself to focus on Erend’s mouth, his voice, made herself hear his words and brought herself back to now. She wasn’t in Mother’s Heart, this wasn’t the Proving. She was here, safe in Meridian.
“We can go back, we don’t have to go,” Erend continued, angling himself to turn them away from the square.
“No, no. I... I’m alright,” Aloy said, rubbing her brow with a hand, a little embarrassed by her reaction. “This took me by surprise, that’s all. I just… need a minute.”
Erend’s eyes met hers and held them with his gaze, hands still firmly on her arms.
“Only if you’re sure. Let’s just sit and watch for a while. We don’t have to do anything, we can join in later if you feel like it,” Erend said, still not entirely convinced. Aloy nodded, her heart still pounding in her chest and ears.
Taking her hand gently, Erend led them across the square and through the edge of the crowd. Aloy followed him up a flight of stairs to a bench at the edge of a small courtyard that overlooked the main square.
They settled on the bench. Aloy inched over enough so her leg was flush with Erend’s, connected from knee to hip. The connection calmed her, being near to Erend seemed to have that effect, as she laid her palms face up on her thighs and focused on her breaths. Erend leaned forward, forearms resting on the railing in front of them and surveyed the crowd.
The square below them was filled with people – Carja, Oseram, the few Nora that stuck around to help after the battle ended. The western end of the square was lined with dozens, maybe hundreds, of small paper lanterns. Upon further observation Aloy was relieved to discover they weren’t like the lanterns they lit before the Proving, these were smaller and more round – almost like the blast traps Aloy used on occasion. The lanterns themselves were a deep, rich red, the thin paper covered in sun designs traced in yellow, white, and gold. At a slight height the display was impressive and Aloy could tell the lanterns were special, crafted and assembled with reverence and care.
“The lanterns are beautiful,” Aloy said, her heartbeat finally back to a manageable thud in her chest and ears. “Tell me about them?”
Erend looked at her and smiled as he sat back on the bench, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck as he spoke.
“They’re used in the Year’s Eve festival the Carja throw on the last night of the year. It’s a celebration, a culmination of sorts, as well as a time to honor and remember those that “left the sun’s light” since the last festival. People release lanterns to let the spirits of friends and loved ones know they are not forgotten and that the sun’s light will always find them. It’s beautiful, really.
“The Oseram have a similar tradition – well ours is more about raising glasses rather than raising lanterns – but it’s still about remembering those that have left us and celebrating their memory.
“It’s a lot colder during Year’s Eve,” Erend continued with a wink, “so people usually have a drink or two before – and after – to warm themselves. Tonight’s ceremony has a little more... weight... to it. I’ve never seen this done at any other time than Year’s Eve, but then again we haven’t fought a battle quite like that in a long time.”
As the first rays of the sun dipped below the horizon, the ceremony began. A hooded Carja priest stepped up in front of the large crowd and gave a quick blessing. Aloy and Erend, too far away to make out specific words, listened and watched the nodding and shifting of the crowd as he spoke. A small band of string instruments played from somewhere in the square, the soft background music drifted up to where they sat. It was a beautiful sight – people stepped forward to light lanterns alone, in pairs, or in small groups. As they were lit, the hot air from the small candle lifted each lantern into the night, carried into the west on the light breeze. The yellows and oranges of the sunset faded into a deep pink and purple, the first of the lanterns stood out against the dark blue of the night sky overhead. Craning her neck to watch the lanterns, Aloy rested her head against Erend’s shoulder. He returned in kind by putting his arm around her, resting his palm on her hip.
Time passed as more and more lanterns drifted up into the twilight.
- - - - -
“I’m guessing from your reaction earlier that the Nora do something similar to this, that you’ve seen something like this before?” Erend asked.
Aloy nodded, her head still not leaving his shoulder. The story of her childhood spilled out – Rost’s overprotective but unquestionable love, the at best indifference and at worst harassment from her fellow Nora, her life’s dedication to winning the Proving as a means to an end. How she yearned for answers to questions she’d asked for as long as she could remember. How the night before the Proving was the first time she’d been allowed in a Nora village. How she had to be there alone, without Rost, whose final wish was for her to find acceptance with the tribe. How when she lit her prayer lantern that night, all she could think of was him, alone again in the world.
“He’d already sacrificed his entire life, an outcast from the tribe by choice. Still, when presented with a child – a baby – he accepted it, raised and loved it as his own,” Aloy said, working harder then she would admit to keep tears at bay.
“It sounds strange, but losing him to the Shadow Carja was the first step that put me on this journey. If he was still alive, if I thought there was even a chance, I would have spent my entire life looking for him. I know I would have been blindly single-minded in my pursuit.
“I wouldn’t have come to Meridian, I wouldn’t have helped you find Ersa and capture Dervahl. I wouldn’t have encountered Sylens and discovered the secrets locked in the metalworld ruins. Most importantly I wouldn’t have learned about the horrors the Eclipse was trying to unleash. HADES would have taken everything. Meridian... everything... would have been destroyed.”
Her voice dropped. “You would be dead,” she said, almost a whisper.
“Hey now,” Erend said, playfully, “We would have put up a pretty good fight. Give my men some credit.”
Aloy huffed a small laugh as she sat up, smiling. Erend’s grey eyes met hers.
“I understand,” he said, taking her hands with his “and while I won’t say I’m glad Rost is gone, because I can tell how much he meant to you, I am glad that your journey took you here. Again. Meridian is eternally grateful that you followed that path. As am I.”
A warm knot tied itself in Aloy’s chest as Erend spoke.
“You could be anywhere in this world, doing anything you want, and still you’re here, giving me another two minutes of your time. You know that I’ll take every minute you’re willing to give.”
“I know Erend,” Aloy said, quietly. She reached out and cupped his face with one hand, tracing his cheekbone with her thumb. She could feel her face flush as she trailed her hand down to his shoulder and across his back, resting her temple against his shoulder as she held onto him. Her other hand remained in Erend’s tight grip, his thumb absently mapping the ridges of her knuckles while more lanterns drifted into the night.
- - - - -
As the sky continued to darken the citykeepers illuminated lamps around the square, casting a soft honeyed light onto the faces of the crowd. Aloy and Erend both noticed Avad at the same time – he admittedly was hard to miss with a small group of body guards trailing his path. They watched as he stopped frequently to speak with people, nodding and touching shoulders reverently, kneeling down to talk at eye level with children that hid shyly behind their parent’s knees.
“Aloy, if you’re alright here for a minute there’s something I need to do,” Erend said.
“Of course,” she responded, squeezing his hand reassuringly as he stood up.
Aloy watched as Erend descend the stairs and wove purposefully through the crowd towards Avad. Reaching him with a wave, Avad put his hand on Erend’s arm and the two men spoke for a few minutes as people shifted and flowed around them. Erend pulled something out of his pocket – too small for Aloy to see – and handed it to Avad.
The pair of men, still trailed by Avad’s entourage, walked over to an unlit lantern. Aloy watched them light the candle together, Erend holding the lantern steady as Avad struck a small piece of flint against the object Erend had given him. They stood together, shoulder to shoulder, and released the lantern. The suns on the red paper, illuminated by the small flame, climbed slowly into the clear, moonless night to join the hundreds of lanterns already drifting into the endless sky.
Erend turned to Avad, intending to say something, but Avad cut him off as he threw his arms around him. Aloy couldn’t help but smile as Erend, clearly taken by surprise at the gesture, waited a beat before he returned the embrace. Avad pulled back and wiped his eye on the back of his hand as they chatted quietly again. After a few minutes, Erend gestured back at Aloy on the bench above them. Avad looked up and nodded to Aloy who waved back. The two men parted and Aloy watched Erend make his way back through the now thinning crowd to her, rejoining her on the bench.
“What was that you gave him?” Aloy asked after a while.
“It was a piece of Ersa’s armor,” Erend said, eyes on the lanterns above them, “a broken metal ring that she replaced a few days before she went missing. I know how much she meant to him. I wanted him to have it.”
“Oh Erend,” Aloy said, her voice catching in her throat, “You’re a good man. Ersa would be proud of you.”
- - - - -
Night settled over Meridian and the last of the crowd trickled out of the courtyard into side streets and houses and homes.
“Do you want to light a lantern for Rost before we head back?” Erend asked as they stood. “I can go with you if you want, or wait here…”
“No, I’ve enjoyed being here tonight, even without participating,” Aloy said. “Besides, Year’s Eve isn’t too far away, I think I’d like to light a lantern then. It will give me something to look forward to, aside from continuing to help out around here.”
“So you’ll stick around Meridian until then?” Erend asked, not managing at all to hide the excitement in his voice.
“Yeah,” Aloy responded, grinning, her hazel eyes catching his, “I can think of a few reasons to stay.”