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By all accounts, it should be a normal day. The Raintrace is just as oppressive in sound and humid heat as it usually is in the high heat of late summer. A Marshal and a Champion walk together, hands occasionally brushing as they make their way towards Thornmarsh.
A luxury Aloy's never known, never had the opportunity to explore before, the ability to dawdle. She's used to having to run from place to place. This ability to just bask in a gentle walk beneath the heavy canopy when they could have easily ridden their Chargers or their Sunwings is a fresh delight for her.
Her ruminating on how different her life is and still could be as the world dying becomes an ever more distant problem is cut short as something appears to block their trek down the worn, sandy path.
It's like nothing Aloy has seen before, a strange oval of swirling blue light. A Focus scan brings up nothing. In fact, it's almost like the Focus doesn't see anything in front of them at all. She has no idea what to call it. Portal sounds most accurate, a word she picked up from Erend, who had immediately gotten interested in an Old World form of media called video games when APOLLO was fully accessible.
She turns to Kotallo and is immediately concerned. Her Marshal is standing back from her a few steps, his eyes distant and unfocused, something strange for him.
"Kotallo?" She asks, reaching for him.
His eyes clear, and his hand meets hers in midair. His smile is odd, secretive in a way she's come to recognize over the months and year they've known each other, the first instance being the test of his prosthetic.
"I forget about this every time. But it's the time of year for it." He says cryptically.
"The time of year for what?" Aloy asks, bemused by his playful attitude.
"A celebration. For someone very special." He answers and his smile broadens all the more, a sight that still makes Aloy's heart flutter against her ribs.
"If they make you smile like that, I'm not sure whether I can't wait to meet them, or if I should be jealous." She says, allowing him to tow her into his side.
He laughs and presses a kiss to the crown of her head.
"You'll see." He says and pulls her with him through the portal.
There are… many people in this room. Some of them in strange outfits that Aloy doesn't recognize at all, while others wear fashions she knows are from the Old World, the ancient world by the standards of her time.
The first that seems to notice them and comment is a man in purple and yellow robes. A hood is pulled up and a mask covers most of his face, save his dark eyes and eyebrows. His right hand is wrapped tightly around a staff with water spinning in an impossible sphere at the top of it.
"Oh great. You brought the girl with you." He grumbles. "As if we weren't already getting crowded."
Aloy's taken aback. Not by the words. Obviously she's used to people dismissing her and her presence. She's shocked because this man's voice is so very, very like her Marshal's. There's an arrogance to it, and it's cold, so unlike Kotallo, but the sound is so familiar, she has to do a double take.
Kotallo gives her a look brimming with empathy. He's been here before. In this exact situation, hearing his voice out of someone else's mouth. He squeezes her hand and she sidles a little closer to his side.
Another oh so similar voice drops into the conversation. "Oh, leave them alone, Rain. You know this place adapts to our numbers. And Raj and Bode both bring their own guests every year."
This man's voice is warmer, though it doesn't carry quite the same canyon gravel as her Marshal's.
He has dark skin, marred over his right cheek by a patch of cracked scars. His brow is also split through on that side. His hair is almost familiar, like a Tenakth style, shaved up on the sides with a tight braid running down his neck. His shirt is blue and an old, old firearm and axe hang from the belt at his waist. He's smiling at them and reaching a hand out to Kotallo.
"Charles!" Kotallo says, stepping forward to grasp the other man's forearm.
"The only Marshal I'll ever like. It's good to see you, Kotallo."
"Likewise. Are we waiting on anyone else?"
"I think a few from Tsushima are still trickling in. And of course the man himself." The man, Charles says, dropping Kotallo's forearm and stepping around him. "It's nice to meet you, Aloy. You were all this one could talk about last year." He chucks his thumb over his shoulder at Kotallo as he holds out his other hand to shake.
Kotallo turns to glare at the back of the other man's head.
As if sensing it, Charles laughs and turns around to clap the Marshal on the shoulder and walk away.
At some point, the one called Rain had disappeared, probably bored with their conversation.
Aloy finds her hand wrapped in familiar warmth and callouses. Her eyes trail up the familiar bracers and tattooed and painted skin to Kotallo's dark honey eyes.
"C'mon." He says. "I'll introduce you to some others."
He leads the way, his height and bulk making it easy to traverse between the mingling groups.
He stops them amidst a crowd, a bunch of people gathered around two men facing off against each other. On one side of this open area is a man with dark armor, made of overlapping plates of woven material and metal decorations of monkeys. A helmet covers his head, decorated with branching horns and another monkey. Below the helmet, Aloy can see his eyes are covered with a torn edged length of fabric. He holds a long, deadly looking blade that has a gentle curve out to the tip.
Something about the whole image triggers in Aloy's memory. Kotallo's shown her old films that featured characters that wielded such weapons and wore armors like these. Samurai. Or ronin. Their long swords called katanas.
The man on the other side wears no armor. His arms and legs are wrapped with bandages, the ones on his arms somehow waving about in the air like seaweed. A tattered, wave patterned fabric hangs around his waist, tied there by a thick, red rope and decorated with monstrous masks. He himself wears a mask that covers his right eye, but leaves his left exposed. Below his left eye, Aloy can make out the shadow of deep scars carving their way down his cheek. The tips of his long dark hair that hang against his pale, exposed chest are tinted the same red as the mask he wears. The same red as one of the two blades he carries.
Kotallo scoffs at Aloy's side. "Riku never learns, does he?"
A man with a hat made of straw smirks up at him from beneath its rim. "Of course he doesn't. His cruelty in life has not been quelled by death, much the same as Yone's sense of honor. The bets are as usual. How long he will last. The times have gone down this year."
Kotallo chuckles as he guides Aloy away from what she can only describe as an impromptu melee pit.
He brings them to a much smaller group this time. Two men and a woman.
One of the men and the woman are clearly a couple given what little distance stands between them and how they both do and do not watch and gravitate around each other.
The woman introduces herself as Doctor Elsie Roberts. When they shake hands, Aloy feels a shiver run down her spine. Something akin to that night that she saw a lodge outside the gates to Mother's Embrace burn. The instinctual recognition of danger.
The man next to her introduces himself as Rajan. His words come out in a smooth purr that Aloy's never heard from her Marshal. One of his eyes is covered by a black leather patch. His clothes are dark except where embellishments curl over the fine material. Something is odd about this man. He feels like he buzzes, which Aloy doesn't understand in the slightest.
Kotallo is very interested to speak to the other man who introduces himself as Rene de la Fontaine. Apparently he's new to whatever this is.
He's a little quieter and his voice, though still very similar to Kotallo's, is strange to Aloy's ears. Sounds are softened and elongated in ways she's not used to and words get mixed into his speech that she doesn't recognize at all. Occasionally, he presses what appears to be a damp cloth to the scars on his neck. Aloy isn't sure whether to write off the slight glimpse where she swears she saw those scars flutter.
Their conversation is interrupted by something bowling into Aloy's back.
She turns and looks down to find a young girl, dark hair clipped and curled around her chin looking up at her with wide eyes.
"Kata!" Another Kotallo-like voice calls.
This man's broad shoulders, though covered, are still very apparent between the holster that hangs over them and his tight red shirt.
He scoops the girl into his arms as though she weighs nothing, no doubt bolstered by fatherly care and concern.
"How many times have I told you to not run off?" He asks.
"But Papa, no one is gonna hurt me here."
"Kata…" he says with a chiding groan. He takes one look at her and sighs, defeated. "At least say sorry for bumping into her."
"She's fine." Aloy mumbles but her heart melts as the girl gives a quiet apology along with a soft smile. "She's precious." She says to the man.
"She is." The father agrees, and frees one of his hands, holding it out to shake. "I'm Bode, I'm sure you caught this is Kata."
Someone scoffs nearby and Aloy turns to look at a man in a crisp grey uniform, a small array of what looks like blue and red buttons clipped at his breast.
"Can it, Rampart." Bode practically hisses at the man.
Rampart scoffs again, mutters under his breath and moves away.
Bode sighs and sets Kata back down who immediately starts wandering away again.
"You two can't bury the hatchet? Just for today." Kotallo asks, turning to join them.
A shadow passes over Bode's face. "I can't forgive the Empire. They've taken everything from me."
Kotallo claps him on the shoulder. "I know, brother. But you've still got her." He tilts his head to where Kata is talking to a man who's wearing what looks like a giant glass bowl over his head. "And today is a day for celebrating."
"You're right." Bode says and moves away to his daughter and joins her conversation with the glass bowl man.
Aloy sees movement on the edges of the crowd. A couple men sticking to the shadows. One has his hair pulled into a short tail that sticks straight up and out from the back of his head. The other's hair is almost unnaturally straight, hanging down over the right side of his face. The one with the straight hair wears well tailored clothes adorned with metal at the breast and on the arms, the other wears clothes that are tattered and worn. The both of them prowl and their heads move on a swivel as though watching for danger.
A clamour starts up in a corner of the room and several heads turn all at once towards the sound. Grins light up across faces all around and people add themselves to the growing group.
Eventually, Kotallo guides them to the front of the group and Aloy sees the source of all the fuss.
Another man is there. And from the way everyone has gathered around, he is the one that they have all gathered for. He wears the same face as many in this room, Bode, Rajan, Rene, and Kotallo when he removes his paint. Or perhaps they wear his. Aloy's not quite sure where the distinction is.
It takes her several moments of careful consideration, but she comes to the conclusion that this man, whoever he is, has a part of himself in each and every person here except her, Kata, and Elsie.
Each person that approaches gets a minute or two that appear filled with laughter and friendly chatter.
When enough space clears, Kotallo steps forward and gives the man a salute in his fist pressed over his breast bone. "Happy Birthday, Noshir."
The man's smile broadens and he tilts his head. "Hey Marshal! You're looking good. The past year has been kind to you?"
"Indeed. With Nemesis gone, our world can finally begin to rebuild from the desolation left behind by Ted Faro. The Tenakth are flourishing given our new cooperation with the other tribes."
The man, Noshir chuckles. "Same old Marshal. I was asking about you. I see you brought Aloy along."
There's a gentle undercurrent of teasing to his words, of poking at a familiar topic and Aloy gets the sense she's been talked about here before.
Noshir turns his attention on her and he reaches out a hand to shake. "Thank you for coming with the Marshal today, Aloy. It means a lot. I'll be sure to tell Ashly that you're doing well."
The last bit of what he says makes very little sense to her, but the sincerity and kindness of his words and tone have her respond with a meek and quiet, "Thanks," as she takes the offered hand.
Kotallo guides her to step back amongst the revelers and allow others who haven't made their way forward to do so.
Noshir, to Aloy's observation, has not stopped smiling since he entered this strange space. He turns that brilliant smile around the crowded faces before saying a humble few words of thanks and delight over the gathering.
Cheers and quiet clapping ripple through the crowd which makes Noshir's smile somehow turn all the brighter.
Then everyone peels off, back to small groupings or through portals very like the one she and Kotallo entered through.
Kotallo leads her around to a few people that they've already connected with to say goodbye before they exit out their own portal.
The memories linger for a few seconds as they stand on the sandy path in the Raintrace before they slip away, locked away for another year.
Aloy and Kotallo continue making their way towards Thornmarsh.