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It had been an unexpected sight. Kotallo had returned to the base two months after his departure to inform Hekkaro of the oncoming threat of NEMESIS. It had been a week’s hard ride, mostly through harsh desert and he was bone tired. He had entered through the western entrance, heavy saddle bags draping from his right shoulder, he pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to wipe away some of his weariness. Moving as silently as a kestrel in flight the Marshal reached the common room and was struck by the image of Aloy. She was slumped over a pile of scrolls. Dappled in crystal blue light, deep furrows of fret etched upon her face. She must have fallen asleep searching for the answers she fought so hard to find. For a moment Kotallo watched her. His commander, and though she found the title uncomfortable, his saviour in so many ways. He silently lowered the saddle bags and approached her with all the stealth of a cloaked dreadwing. He watched the furrows deepen. Pain and fear creeping across her face. Her breathing uneasy. Kotallo empathised immediately. A nightmare. He knew that feeling well.
He moved slowly and purposefully until he reached the seat opposite her. He sat. His large chestnut brown eyes looked upon her with such compassion. Willing her to find peace. He would do anything for her to find peace. Barely daring to breathe he motioned his hand and gently placed it upon hers. His touch was feather light on her skin, a calloused thumb pressing comforting circles on her skin. As he gazed down he was surprised at just how small her hand was beneath his. How could someone who embodied so much, be so small? His eyes never left her tortured expression. Burning into her in a desperate attempt to communicate everything he would have her know if only he had the courage. He was a proud Tenakth. Honourable and brave in so many actions, but not when it came to words. Words he kept guarded. Preferring to seem stoic and cynical than to ever letting his real self show again. Not since.. No matter. Those thoughts were unwelcome. Dwelling on the past would not help his saviour now.
His voice was low. Barely above a gravelly whisper. “Aloy? Aloy. I have you. Hush now. Don’t let those visions hurt you any longer”. He had subconsciously moved his hand to land soft strokes upon her forehead. He realised his action with horror, and swiftly retreated as she stirred.
“Ko…Kotallo?”
“Hush. You are safe. The visions cannot hurt you here”.
Aloy fought off the horrors of her slumber and opened her eyes.
“There you are, Commander."
Aloy swept her hands across her face as if to wash away her nightmare from her mind. Kotallo noticed how utterly exhausted she looked.
Realisation crept across her face and she rose in a half panic, hands floundering through scrolls as if searching for something lost.
“Commander. Commander please sit”.
There was something so imploring in his voice that it twisted solid in her chest until she was powerless to anything but oblige. She tentatively placed both hands upon the table and lowered herself back into her seat.
For a while there was thick silence. His penetrating gaze never leaving hers. His face racked with clear signs of concentration. Her marshal never said anything without careful contemplation. She knew he was seeking the correct wording to phrase whatever he desired to tell her. In truth he was finding the courage.
At last he spoke.
“It is never easy. Being haunted by those that left you”.
Aloy looked upon him with surprise. Clearly she had not expected those words. What had she expected? Sage, yet distant words from a seasoned marshal perhaps? Expressing Tonakth cliche that, though spoken in sincere, calm and eloquent tones would equate to no more “carry on, soldier”? She was aware that her hand and face echoed with the ghost of an embrace, and despite herself her pulse slowed. Further silence fell.
When he spoke it was barely above an apologetic whisper. “Aloy, forgive me. Was it Rost, or Varl?”
Another look of surprise touched her face.
“How did you?”
A sad, barely detectable smile crossed Kotallos face. Aloy was almost certain she saw light fade from his eyes for a moment.
The marshal took a moment to articulate his answer while a hint of sorrow squeezed at his heart.
“I too have lost people, Commander. Pardon my frankness but it is always those we loved most that haunt us in our dreams. Sometimes calming, warming visions of who they were. More often than not how they were taken from us”. He winced. “In cruelly accurate detail”.
He looked down. His hand fiddling mindlessly on the table. Almost.. Ashamed? No. she thought. Surely this man had nothing to be ashamed of?
He was fighting for words. For whether he should even tell her. Whether it would help her as he hoped or whether this was selfish of him.
“I lost more than just my arm that day at Barren Light”.
Shit. Of course.
“The other marshals. They were your friends.”
Kotallo raised his eyes in time to see guilt shadow across Aloy’s face.
Aloy had been so driven by her mission that she had almost forgotten the events of the embassy. It had been a matter of a six months past. But so much had happened that it had become lost among the score of battles. Just another fight she had to win. But of course Kotallo remembered. That day would be etched in his mind with the same depth as the death of Rost and Varl were in hers.
“I am so sorry Kotallo. I never… I..” her words failed her and it was her turn to look down.
“It is okay Aloy. It is not your burden to bear. I understand. Just one battle among many”.
“You must miss them terribly”. He felt a familiar sorrow begin to bite. Kotallo closed his eyes. “My fellow marshals were struck down, and while they fought with bravery and died well, it has left a mark on me that will never heal”.
Aloy looked at him. Understanding. Remembering the words he spoke on their first meeting. It will never heal"
“Your arm”.
Again there was silence. They were going in circles. Kotallo fought over whether to admit the truth to her. Something so guarded within himself that he dare not speak of it. At last he decided that his attempt to comfort her was far more important than the slight comfort keeping quiet might bring to him. Besides, perhaps it was time to speak. To…heal.
“No”. If Aloy was surprised she hid it well. All Kotallo read from her was her empathy. “What I lost was far more precious to me than even my arm.” Kotallo lapsed into silence. Clearly retracing the battle in his mind.
Aloy took his hand in his. Was surprised by its warmth. His tenderness as he twisted his wrist to lock her hand in his. “It's okay Kotallo. You don’t have to speak of this to comfort me. Though I truly appreciate your desire to help”. She looked into those piercing brown eyes and gave him a weary smile. She hoped his reply would be one of his fleeting tender smiles. So small and guarded but so heartfelt. Instead he gave her another soul piercing glance.
“Do you know why I pledged myself to you, Commander?”
The question seemed to come out of nowhere and it left Aloy hesitant to reply.
“Hmmm. Because you were impressed at the Bulwark?” he nodded. Aloy could see right past his stoic demeanour to the painfully guarded heart below. She knew he must say more. She remained silent but gazed into those eyes and squeezed his hand to let him know it was alright to talk.
“The first time I saw you it was at Barren Light. You were talking to Marshal Fashav. Do you remember?” She nodded. Confused again at the apparent change of subject.
“The second time I met you I had changed. I had become… bitter. Resentful. Cold. While my wound was healing I had heard that Marshal Fashav had given you a token, enabling you to cross Tenakth lands. I had seen glimpses of you at Barren Light but my memories had been blocked by the pain I felt and so I did not understand what it was he saw in you. An outlander.” He could see blood rush to her cheeks, and quickly continued. “Forgive the impertinence, Commander. It is something I have long since stopped feeling, and I am sure you would be the first to admit that my first words to you were…icy”.
Aloy looked back. If there were icy words they had shortly been replaced by witty quips followed by the tiniest hints of a smile. Of perfect synchronicity between them against the rebels. She smiled at the thought. He continued.
“Your actions at the Bulwark. The rebels. The tremourtusk. These actions all showed me that you were worthy. Deserving of that token. In a lot of ways that day reminded me of so many previous missions. You reminded me..” Kotallo hesitated. Closed his eyes and sighed.
Let it go. Once she understands you can use your pain to comfort her. Its time to heal.
“You reminded me of him”.
A hint of comprehension bloomed in Aloy’s mind. Her face was kind. Empathetic as always. Another squeeze of the hand.
“Of Fashav”?
“Indeed.” He was hunched and quiet. Subdued.
“Go on.”
“After I saw you fight at the Kulrut I knew the best way I could honour his memory was to honour his desire for you to move freely among the clanlands. To honour him, by Honouring you.” Another hesitation.
“You loved him”. I was not a question.
Aloy placed a hand on Kotallo’s cheek and he closed his eyes for a second. Such a delicate gesture that meant the world to both of them. His eyes glistened and a single tear formed but did not fall. As if even the tear knew it was Tenakth and refused to show a sign of weakness. Aloy didn’t speak. Again she knew he had more to say but her hand still held his gaze to her. Not allowing him to slump his head again. Almost in shame. She thought.
“I. I was a coward”.
This shocked Aloy. This man. This multifaceted man who was both lethal and brave on the battlefield but also honourable and gentle. This man thought himself a coward?” She opened her mouth to speak but he stopped her and continued. He had begun this conversation. He could not stop now.
By the Ten. Allow me to do this.
“We had been brothers-in-arms for four years by the time I realised. I know not when the affection.. As Zo would put it.. "Sprouted". But I also realised there were signs that he might have reciprocated. One night we had camped in the desert on the way to some long forgotten meeting. The sun had long since set and we had been drinking cactus spirit for long enough to let our inhibitions falter." Despite himself he gave a slight smile at the memory. The sight of Fasahv highlighted by the campfire, roast peccary leg in hand, Singing some Carja tune. He had looked breathtaking.
“I must tell you Aloy that I have never found it easy to express what I want. Especially after being sent away by Tekotteh to become a Marshal. But something about the way he looked at me that night made up my mind to confess my desires to him.” Ketallo stopped as if hit with the recollection.
Another squeeze of the hand. Another soft caress of the cheek.
With the most patient, kind tone she told him to continue.
“I began to approach him, but he spoke first. He began recollecting about his Carja homeland. He admitted to me that no matter how much he enjoyed his new life, that part of him would always be Carja. That he wished to dedicate the rest of his life to peace. To mark his un-inked arm with laurels. He looked me in the eye and declared he would allow nothing to distract him from his mission. And I. I faltered. I. accepted the defeat. I could not speak, as if fleeing from a battlefield. I was…a coward”.
Another squeeze of the hand.
He closed his eyes, then looked at her again. Again it struck him that something that meant so much to so many people can be so small.
“Forgive me Aloy you may be wondering why I tell you this sad tale as an attempt to comfort you from nightmares, but I promise you the tale has a point”.
“It's ok even if it doesn’t Kotallo. I’m glad you’re telling me.” She gave him another soft smile and that time was paid back in kind. “So you swore yourself to me to help keep his memory alive. I didn’t get a chance to get to know him, but the little I spoke with him convinced me that he would have found that an honour."
Kotallo closed his eyes and finally the solitary tear fell from his eye. Running down his cheek and carrying a smear of paint onto her hand. “Thank you, Aloy”. He continued.
“Before the Balwark I was lost. The grief I felt for the loss of Fashav was seen by others as grief for the loss of my arm but it was deeper than that. It was the dishonour of it. That he should die in the glory of battle, as a Tenakth by right so close to his Carja homeland, to his true life’s work, while I, Tenakth by birth, was dragged off the field a cripple. It was wrong. It was not how it was supposed to be. I had decided to whither. To fight for my honour by Kundrat and then simply fade away. The shame of it Aloy. I cannot express the shame I felt.”
Another tight squeeze and again Aloy tried to interject.
“No Aloy. I know what it is you will say. That I am more than my arm and my grief. That I lost no honour. Thanks to you I understand that now, but then? I could not understand how the Ten could have been so cruel. To either of us.” He shook his head as if to erase the memory from his mind.
“At first I appreciated your prowess, but happy only to pay Fashav what little honour I could by pledging myself to you. I did my best to remain…separate from the rest of the squad. Over the coming months however I found myself unable to do so. I was accepted, cripple or no and I found myself belonging. And you, Aloy. You who never once considered this stump a handicap. You looked at me without pity. You allowed me to heal. To feel… whole.”
They shared another smile.
“Over the coming months the hurt began to fade. It is still there, will always be there. Much like the loss of my parents, and sometimes I do still dream of him. But the pain softens into acceptance.”
Aloy looked as if to say she did not want them to fade. Kotallo understood.
“It is not their memory that fades, Aloy. Or the lessons that they taught you. Simply the pain. There will come a time where you will be able to look back on good times and smile. To recollect their teachings without a pang of regret. Rost and Varl were both admirable fighters. There was nothing you could have done to save them, and having had the honour to have known Varl, I know he would do it all again in a heartbeat. I suspect the same for Rost. Your wounds will heal over time, Aloy. But only if you allow yourself to grieve without guilt. You helped me to see I had not failed that day. There was nothing I could have done to save him. To save any of them. You also allowed me to see to it that Fashav’s legacy continues by aiding you in securing Regalla’s downfall. To that I am eternally grateful to you.”
Tears fell softly from Aloys face. At last she removed her hand from Kotallo’s face to wipe them away. Within a second she had closed in on him. Arms gathered around his back in a tight embrace. Her head resting upon his chest. He felt warm. Gentle. And so much softer than he had ever seen before. He was still her marshal. The bravest and most honourable of her squad. The man that swore his life to her in order to honour his fallen companion. This man who stared down mountains and stood as a rock himself against anything that would hurt her. Kotallo had never wavered. He had always seemed to understand her above anyone else she had known. Whenever she longed for quiet companionship she had turned to him. Studious in his war room. They had passed dry wit and tiny smiles. Now he had shared this tale with her. Not for pity. He was too self guarded for that. Aloy was certain that except for her this tale would never be told. He told her because it was his best way to show her he truly understood her loss. Her nightmares. She smiled into his chest.
“What is it?” Kotallo’s words were soft. Protective as if it was she who told him her most guarded secret, and not the other way around.
“The day we met. Met properly I mean, at the Balwak. I remember telling you how I didn’t know what was worse. Being shunned, or being stared at”.
“I recall”.
“Well I was just thinking how we’ve always done this. Exposed part of ourselves to show the other we know exactly what the other is feeling”.
Kotallo smiled, though Aloy looked sad almost as if she had just lost another.
“I'm truly sorry for the loss of Fashav. He was a good man. He. He deserved you Kotallo. You weren't a coward for not telling him how you felt. You did what you always do. The honourable thing. Allowing his mission to come first.” silence. “You too are a good man. The…best I know”.
Beneath her cheek she thought she felt Kotallo’s heart flutter. But she must have been imagining it.
Kotallo sighed and repeated her words. “The mission always comes first”. He sounded sad. Perhaps he disagreed with her. Thinking he was still a coward.
There was silence between them for a long time. Finally Kotallo retreated from her embrace. The chill left behind was like mountain air.
“Aloy”. It was as if he was staring right through her to her soul. Aloy shivered.
“Aloy I understand your meaning but if what I have said shows anything is that anything could go wrong.”
Confusion crossed her face. “Kotallo I don’t un..”
“Fashav chose his life’s work over anything else. Over any chance of true happiness. I was weak when I did not speak up, and our fate proves that. He gave up everything and died anyway.”
“I’m sorry Kotallo”.
Within a blink his hand was on her cheek. Confusion still across her brows.
“Aloy, forgive me but you’re making the same mistake as Fashav. Your mission is admirable. Perhaps the most admirable battle since the time of the Ten themselves but you do not live. Not for yourself. Only ever for others”.
She opened her mouth to speak but Kotallo hushed her.
“Over these past months I have learned how truly wonderful you are, Aloy. You are no longer a way for me to find purpose. You have experienced so much grief. So much death. Have been an outcast. Yet you never once let that define you as it would so many others. To have become bitter. Resentful…..cold”.
“Kotallo”
“Shh. You never once stop to do anything for yourself. Only for others. Only the mission. You are making the same mistake as Fashav and of myself”. he hesitated.
She looked deep into his eyes then. She knew it was the truth. She had sacrificed 18 years of her life to train for the proving, where Rost had died. She headed straight out to take her anger to the Eclipse. Found HADES and defeated him. Had not looked back. She had headed straight to the West. Lost Varl. Defeated the Zeniths and discovered a sister. Still she had not stopped for herself. Time was too short. Life too precious to live it. Life was for others to live
“Kotallo the mission co...”
He stepped back. Single arm reaching to the sky in frustration. His voice was raised but not angry. Never angry at her.
“With all due respect to You, it, and my service to you commander THE MISSION CAN GO TO THE TEN”!
Aloy was stunned into silence. Mouth agape. He was back by her as quickly as he had retreated. Hand caressing her cheek. Wiping away freely flowing tears. His voice was soft again. Quiet.
“What is it you want from life? Not as Saviour of Meridian, or as Champion, or even as Commander. But as Aloy?”
She shuddered. A soft whimper left her lips. “I don’t get to have a life, Kotallo. At least, not the one I want. I cannot ask what I want. I don’t deserve it”.
Kotallo brought himself closer. Resting his forehead on hers. The sensation of hot breath making both shiver.
“Do not make my mistake Aloy. Ask for what you want. What you deserve. You deserve the whole world Aloy a thousand times over. It is us who bask in your glory that are undeserving”.
He allowed her time to think. Eventually she spoke. Barely daring to say what was on her mind. Before tonight she had barely allowed herself to think about what she wanted. Though for a long time she knew. “What if the answer is no?”
He signed. Another shiver.
“Then at least unlike me you could say you had the courage to ask.” He paused.
“So tell me, Aloy. What is it you want”?
“...you”
Kotallo leaned in further. Eyes closed. For a second he dare not breathe. He gave her lips the tenderest of kisses. Noting this may well be her first experience of the sensation. Her lips parted and he kissed her with passion for what seemed both and eternity and the briefest of moments. Eventually he let her come up for air. He drew his mouth to her ear, hot breath on her neck sending shivers down her spine. She could feel the smile on his face.
“Your wish is my command”.