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Chapter Text

The Nora worshipped the nature of motherhood.

It was the foundation of the tribe. Any birth was a celebration and any death was a funeral. And while both adult and child were treated equally, nothing compares to the death of a child. It wasn’t just one person losing something they’ve created, but the whole tribe grieved for the loss, whether it was tragic or natural.

And in a world of machines, tragedy was more common than natural death.

But today was an odd mixture of tragedy and celebration.

Deep in the mountain of All-Mother, a baby’s cries drew High Matriarch Teersa to its womb. It caught the grandmother off guard, especially after just returning from the birthing hut. She thought it was her imagination, All-Mother’s grief for the loss of the morning.

But to her surprise, she found a child, swaddled and alone in the womb of All-Mother. The little babe was small, too small, with red hair and pale skin. Healthy and warm to the touch, Teersa looked around for any sign of any mother.

Nobody came out of the shadows. And nobody could have been in All-Mother’s mountain without someone knowing. Teersa was left with only the idea that the child was left by All-Mother, a small babe with nothing but the white blanket it was swaddled in.

Teersa believed that this was a blessing, but when she took the child to the other two High Matriarchs who had also come from the birthing hut, all she received was fear. Fear that the child was a result of the Metal Devil’s laughter at the tragic loss of the morning.

There was no way any of the High Matriarchs could raise the child, and Lansra’s pure hatred of the child made Teersa wonder about the child’s fate.

And now, here she was, with the sun rising above the mountains, chasing the last of the rains away. The child was still crying and Teersa held the child close. With how young the baby was, it was probably crying out of hunger. Lansra was speaking to some of the mothers, ones who had children last season but not this season. Teersa was far enough away that she couldn’t hear Lansra, but she couldn’t talk to her other fellow High Matriarch. She had retreated into the Lodge to get away from all that was to come from this.

From the way the mothers looked, whatever Lansra was saying was either making them scared or they were outright refusing to take the child as their own. Teersa sighed, looking down at the child as it continued to cry. The child, innocent and small, was being seen as a curse. If the baby was not crying, Teersa would have spoken with the mothers. But she did not trust Lansra to hold the child.

A lose-lose scenario.

Lansra approached, the mothers scattering to go back to their children. She scoffed at the child as it continued to cry, “Like I told you, Teersa. That child is nothing but a curse. Just throw it into the wilds and let the machines have it.”

Teersa bit her tongue from responding, knowing that Lansra was just looking for a fight. It amazed Teersa how heartless Lansra was showing herself to be to the helpless child still crying in her arms. With Lansra’s harsh words, the old woman walked away, leaving Teersa alone with the child.

Looking down at the swaddled bundle squirming in her arms, Teersa said softly, “You are a blessing in disguise, little one. Someone will see that besides me. I'm sure of it.”

The baby continued crying and Teersa, for the first time since she had her first child, didn't know what to do. Her children wouldn't take the child, as they have grown too old that they would sleep through the small cries. And her grandchildren couldn't because they have their own.

The only one she could dare ask was- “High Matriarch Teersa?”

Teersa turned, eyes wide upon seeing the woman approaching. Even in the sunlight, the woman looked like a silhouette of fog, pale skin whiter than usual and eyes red from tears. Her brown chestnut hair was tied into a messy braid, sweat still beading down her forehead like rainfall, while her sapphire eyes looked down at the crying child.

Teersa was quick to say, “Kenya, you should be in bed. You still bleed from the morning!”

Behind the woman, another Nora approached, apologizing quickly, “My apologies, High Matriarch! I took my eyes off her for one second.”

The second woman gently grabbed the first, saying softly, “Let us go back so you can lie down.”

But the first merely walked forward, arms outstretching towards the crying baby. With a croaked voice, cracked and broken from hours of screaming and crying, said, “Please, Teersa. Let me…”

Teersa stared at the woman before her and found she couldn’t say no. In silence, Teersa handed the crying child to the bleeding woman. With a gentle caress, the woman held the baby close. Both Nora watched as the woman held the baby close, caressing it with the hold of a mother.

The crying child paused, eyes shut as it tried to wave its arms out. Slowly, the woman untightened the swaddle, just enough to let the baby explore the air with her hands. When it grabbed at nothing, the baby began to cry again.

The woman didn’t frown or scoff. Instead, with great patience, the woman held a finger for the little baby to grab. The moment the tiny hand landed on her finger, the tiny digits wrapped around, holding a tight grip. And the woman began to hum a tune.

And to the surprise of Teersa and the Nora woman, the baby began to slowly settle.

Then, it began to coo.

Teersa smiled as the Nora woman tried to reach out, saying, “Kenya, please. Let me hold her while you walk back. You could collapse at any moment.”

But her words met deaf ears as the woman, Kenya, said softly to the baby, “All-Mother blesses us with life once more with you, little one. It is going to be alright. You are safe and warm, little babe.”

Teersa felt her heart warm at Kenya’s straight forward acceptance. She didn’t think Kenya would want to take in a child after losing her own just hours ago. But Teersa did not see this as a bad thing.

Where one lost a child, another had no mother.

Softly, Teersa spoke up, Kenya’s eyes rising to Teersa as the old woman spoke, “I think you will take great care of this baby. As you would have your own. Are you sure you can take care of this little one? Like your own?”

Kenya stared at Teersa, face only holding that of happiness. Kenya nodded, keeping the child close as she replied, “I prayed for life, Teersa. I prayed to one day pass my spirit onto another ever since my mother died. She gave me life, and while I failed to give a life like she did, maybe I can still pass my spirit on.”

“Even if it's not your own,” the Nora woman said, with surprise clear in her voice. Kenya turned to the Nora woman, her face becoming blank and wise. That of a Brave, a Huntress of the Nora.

“Even if,” Kenya replied. “All children are born innocent. Just because this baby isn’t my own, I will not let this baby suffer. This is my final choice.”

“But-”

“I have made my decision,” Kenya replied, holding the baby closer to her chest. “Now, I will go to the healing hut, so that I may rest and keep the baby close.”

“But you are still bleeding,” Teersa pointed out. “It would be wiser if you healed in the birthing hut-”

“Surrounded by death?” Kenya turned her head to Teersa, her face calm but eyes holding a rebellious fire. “With all due respect, High Matriarch, I do not think this babe should be introduced to death so quickly. And I do not wish to stew in it. Please…forgive my insistence.”

Chapter Text

“There, Aloy. That is the grand Embrace. Our home. Remember it.”

Kenya’s voice was quiet as she held the eight-month-old in her arms. She stood at the edge of Mother’s Heart, eyes focused on the horizon as the sun rose from the mountains and into the sky. Winter had already taken most of the land, the mountains’ grip loosening to allow the snow to touch the deepest parts of the valley. And while it was cold, spring was coming in a few months.

Just in time for the little girl in her arms to be granted the name that Kenya wished.

“Kenya,” a female voice spoke. Kenya heard the quiet footsteps, a trait all Braves had to face the machines of the wilds. In her arms, the little girl cooed, reaching for the horizon with tiny hands.

Without turning, Kenya spoke, “How goes, Sona? About time you visited me. How is little Vala?”

“Bearing her name well,” the voice replied. The footsteps treaded to Kenya’s side, grabbing the little girl’s attention as her wide green eyes looked over at the newcomer. “Seems like you are growing more fond of the little one every day.”

“She is quite the child,” Kenya replied, bouncing the little girl lightly as she repositioned the little one to her chest. Soon, the girl would fall asleep, soothed by the sound of the birds and the beating heart in Kenya’s chest. “Now hush for just a moment.”

Sona didn’t reply, watching with narrowed eyes as Kenya began to sing. Her voice soft as she cradled the little girl to her chest.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,

You make me happy when skies are gray,

You’ll never know dear, how much I love you…”

Kenya didn’t continue. When she said that last verse, it was on that day. Eight months ago.

But she didn’t have to. The little girl was sound asleep, a habit. Comforted with the sleeping child, Kenya turned to see Sona with her crossed arms and narrowed eyes on the baby. Upon seeing this, Kenya said in a low voice, “You can judge me all you want. But you will not judge this little one for nothing. I made the choice to take her in.”

Sona snorted, quietly to not wake the baby. “She is not a replacement, Kenya. You are a respected Brave. To take such a cursed child…”

“It has been months since that day, Sona. She is no curse. Every child is a blessing from All-Mother, no matter what Resh says,” Kenya said in a wise voice. “Now, what have you beckoned to the Mothers’ Barrack for? All of your stuff is gone from this place.”

Sona shifted, looking up at Kenya briefly. Kenya rolled her eyes, grumbling, “She isn’t listening. She is sleeping. She’s not going to tell the Metal Devil what is going on in the mortal realm.”

Sona grimaced, but didn’t comment. Instead, she said in a quiet voice and uncrossed her arms with balled fists, “I assume you have been hearing rumors of the machines?”

“Of some of the recent attacks? I have. Why?” While Kenya preferred to be away from the lifestyle of the Brave for a little longer, this was making her curious. She cradled the little girl to her chest, a serious look on her face. The face of a Brave.

Sona nodded shallowly, “We have been getting more reports of them from merchants. Seems like they are getting more aggressive. I have suggested to the High Matriarchs that we make sure our Braves are ready for any more changes.”

“Good. Hopefully, they will listen,” Kenya replied, looking down when the baby began to coo, hands waving in the air towards Kenya. The woman smiled, whispering into the cold air to the baby. “Machines are a part of us in a way. If they are becoming more aggressive, then something is going to happen on the human side of things.”

“Now that you have mentioned it…” Kenya stopped, looking up towards the mountains of All-Mother. “There have been disappearances, but none that are like…”

Sona stopped, becoming silent as she didn’t finish her statement. Kenya knew what she meant. Not like what happened to that one group of Braves. Kenya was part of that hunting party, chasing down the outlanders that took their own. Kenya remembered how she felt when she saw a Nora killed in their chase, how her throat closed up and anger rose in her chest. They toyed and played with the Nora, killing their own as leverage to get out. Then killing the rest of those captive at the border.

It was only last season. But Kenya could still hear the enraged wails when the dead were found.

And it was only weeks later Kenya was told that she was carrying a child.

“Keep me updated,” Kenya finally requested, looking back up at Sona. “We must be on guard for what is to come.”

Sona nodded, “As you request. I already have a plan in case things go south. May All-Mother protect us all.”

Kenya didn’t reply, watching as Sona walked away. Back to her own children. Kenya didn’t grimace at the idea. Rather, she smiled, looking down at the baby now wide awake. In another life, Kenya would have had this baby as her own. And for her own mother to abandon her? Kenya wished she could give that mother a choking.

Despite how much Kenya loved the baby in her arms, she kept the child close. In the eight months of keeping the little baby, some of the Nora have tried to convince Kenya she was making a mistake. Raising a child of the Metal Devil. Some have even tried to take the child from her at night.

To which Kenya would remind them in her own bloody way that nobody would do that with her.

Just like Sona, protective of her children, Kenya was protective of the baby in her arms. One Nora that she nearly killed in his attempt to take the baby, Resh, now harbored one less eye. Losing it after Kenya attacked him with a blade upon finding him about to throw the child in the cold creek. Taking Kenya’s nap as a moment to strike.

Since Resh’s loss of an eye, nobody had dared to try to take the baby. Not when Kenya was nearby or even when she wasn’t. Sure, she lost sleep over it. But she would rather lose sleep than allow someone to take her child again.

Not like how All-Mother took hers.

Sitting down on the cliffside, Kenya told the little baby, “One day, little one, you will be able to defend yourself from machines. They are part of us. Part of our world. I hope that one day you will see that. That they aren’t big scary things. Just creatures that live in the same world as us. They will be angry now, but time will calm them.”

Kenya watched as the child smiled widely.

Kenya also watched her grow. And very quickly.

Soon, the baby received her name, one that Kenya shouted to All-Mother with the pride of blood relation.

Then, she was walking.

Her cries and babbles turned to words, words that Kenya would teach kindly and gently.

Unfortunately for Kenya, that was only the beginning of the growing troubles that came with being a mother to a supposed Metal Devil child.

At first, it was the looks. Stares from the adults as Kenya’s little child played with the other children. Kenya would catch these looks and the adults would quickly look away, hoping to not piss off the Brave. Kenya had earned a reputation over the years as a Brave, despite having no children by blood.

While Kenya wished her child didn’t notice, it was unavoidable when the little redhead girl approached Kenya as the woman draped boar meat over a roasting fire. She was clutching her hands together, as if hiding something from Kenya when Kenya looked down at her wide green eyes.

“Mama, why do none of the Braves talk to me?”

Kenya’s heart broke at the little four-year-old’s voice. Her first instinct was to grab and embrace the little girl. Wanting to make sure the little girl felt that she wasn’t alone. But now was not the time for gentle parenting.

If her child is going to survive, it was time to take advantage of this lesson. Kenya replied with a soft smile, “Because, Aloy, you are not a Brave. You are a child that came from nowhere. And they don’t know what to do about that.”

Aloy, grimaced, looking down at her folded hands. Before Aloy could even think to form a response, Kenya added as she turned around again to add more hanging meat to the fire, “Use that to your advantage, Aloy. In the wilds, machines will not stare. But humans…they are simple and complex at the same time. They stare at many things. To observe the world around them, to see the flaws and strengths of a person. But most times, they are confused.”

Aloy looked back up at Kenya, confusion clear on her face. With a tilt of her head, Aloy asked in an inquisitive tone, “What should I do?”

“Ignore them. And let them wonder,” Kenya replied. She turned, a gentle smile on her face as she gestured to the bow and arrows sitting nearby. “Very soon, you’ll learn how to use that. And show the Braves of the Nora that you are like them.”

“Maybe better? Like you, Mama?”

Kenya couldn’t stop the proud grin that spread through her face at that. “Just like me.”

Kenya could feel that pride now as she now watched six-year-old Aloy practice her shots from a safe distance. For now, Aloy’s arrows were sailing a little far from their intended targets of straw decoys. But soon, Kenya had a feeling that Aloy will only get better from here.

A little away from the walls of Mother’s Heart, Kenya watched fondly and with crossed arms, dressed in her Brave armor after finally returning to her duty as a Brave a few months ago. For the past six years, Kenya didn’t feel comfortable enough to leave Aloy alone without her there, for fear that those stares would morph into bullying. And aside from a few incidents, Kenya found that Aloy was more than capable of defending herself from the other children.

And Kenya made sure Aloy learned quickly how to do so.

“Kenya.”

At her name, Kenya turned, finding Sona approaching her. Both seasoned warriors stared each other down before Sona looked past her and at Aloy, just in time to see Aloy hit the neck of the decoy. Aloy didn’t shout in celebration, eyes narrowing in determination as she kept trying, practicing her stance and drawing more arrows into her string. Seeing that she was distracted, Sona looked back at Kenya, who was smirking at her.

“Training her early now?” At Sona’s question, Kenya shrugged. No words were needed for a response. Sona made her way to Kenya’s side, still dressed in her hunting outfit. She must have just returned from a hunt. “Good. I have been thinking of starting early with the upcoming Braves. But it seems you have Aloy at a headstart.”

“She is determined,” Kenya replied, looking back to see Aloy miss another target. Aside from a scowl growing on her face, Aloy continued practicing. “To survive, she must learn to fight. And to learn to fight, she must learn valuable lessons.”

Kenya didn’t need to speak out loud the truth behind Aloy’s early training.

As of this past spring, rumors of Carja running amuck with talk of the Sun and the Derangement being one of the same began to poison the lands. All the way to the tyrant Sun-King Jiran. Attacks had already been happening in the Northern lands of the Sacred Lands. But they have increased in intensity, and rumor had it that the Sun-King was capturing and sacrificing other tribes nearby. It wouldn’t be long until the Nora would be under attack with more intensity once the border villages had been ravaged.

So if Sona was here… “Any news from Mother’s Watch?”

Sona grimaced. Enough of an answer to cause Kenya to sigh, “I see. I am not surprised. Every year, the machines get more and more dangerous. And that has sent the most fearful into the fires of law. As long as the Carja stay on the other side of the mountains, we should be fine here.”

“And there lies the problem,” Sona said grimly, turning slightly to Kenya as Aloy missed yet another target. Though she was close. “What else do you think they plan? They are growing desperate. Becoming more dangerous. And they will search for ways to get around us. Especially with him.”

Him. Kenya grimaced deeply at that. An uprising general with a terrifying reputation. Kenya didn’t need to hear his name. Instead, Kenya scoffed, telling Sona, “No matter who comes into the Sacred Lands, we will not bow. And we will not break. For now, we train the young. So that if something happens, we don’t leave ourselves completely vulnerable.”

Sona sighed, shoulders slumping slightly, “Always thinking of the future, huh, Kenya?”

Kenya rolled her eyes slightly, but looked ahead at Aloy as she finally sailed an arrow into the center of a target. Aloy lowered her bow, a smile finally dawning on her face before she looked over at Kenya. Her smile didn’t fade at seeing Sona, beaming at Kenya for a reaction.

Kenya nodded, smiling.

Aloy nodded back, before turning to the decoys once more to gather her arrows. To try again.

“I have to, Sona,” Kenya spoke as the pair watched Aloy pick up her arrows. “Soon, the lands will be hers as well. Every year she grows. Just like All-Mother intends.”

Sona glanced at Kenya, but didn’t say a word in response. Kenya had an inkling what her friend was thinking.

That Aloy shouldn’t be alive.

She shouldn’t have survived that night.

But here Aloy was, six years old and growing, red hair shining like the dawn and dusk of the day. Kenya had no regrets over Aloy. She would always cherish the early mornings and late nights with the child. And though not by blood, it was clear that Kenya loved Aloy as she smiled lovingly at the child who approached her with a giddy grin.

Sona watched all this. Just as she watched from a distance for the past five years. She kept her mouth shut, in order to keep the illusion her friend had built from shattering. With a war drawing near, Sona didn’t know how Kenya would react to a potential war march.

With the way things were going, the demands increased and the risks along with it. Sona grimaced as she watched Kenya rub Aloy’s wild hair softly, praising her for her success of the day.

But she had no place in the little family.

A queen of thorns held no spear against a queen of arrows.

Chapter Text

“Mama? Where are we going?”

At the young six-year-old Aloy’s question, Kenya turned a gentle smile on her face as the child climbed over a log. It was nearing winter, the leaves browning and a crisp wind flowing through the Sacred Lands. While many would rather stay as much as they can in the warm cabins, Kenya wanted Aloy to have a connection outside of the Nora.

She was well aware of the customs. The rules of the Nora. But Kenya was not one for rules, having found loopholes and found ways to avoid trouble. It was the first thing she learned as a fresh Brave. Stealth was a friend of the hunter, and Kenya never went straight into battle with the intent of fighting head on. Watch from the sides before going in.

While this wasn’t a fight the pair were headed towards, Kenya needed to be careful. Not all Outcasts were as nice as the Outcast she wanted Aloy to meet. Kenya had put down a few Outcasts that had gone above and beyond what they were supposed to do. She remembered hunting those Outcasts down after they stole food, killed other Braves, and threatened the lives of the Nora that lived peacefully in the village. She and Sona were always tasked to do such a thing, being the best at tracking and fighting people.

Kenya was also aware of how much the Nora looked down on the Outcasts, especially those who did extreme wrongs. It was no surprise that some Outcasts would never be seen again. Kenya had found their bodies, their families worried over their wellbeing. Those were harder to face than hunting the Outcasts who put others in danger.

This Outcast in particular was one that Kenya was familiar with. Very much so. She remembered him like a mountain, towering and imposing to all that were smaller than him. He was a Brave longer than her, and one who earned much respect in his years. The only reason he was an Outcast was still unknown. If Kenya remembered correctly, she hadn’t seen him much since his mate and child were killed. And she couldn’t ask him because he wasn’t allowed to speak.

Unlike Kenya, he followed the rules with a strict hold.

And he wouldn’t like today. Not at all. It took Kenya four weeks to track him during her machine hunts. While Aloy trained by herself, Kenya not only hunted machines, but him as well.

And she tracked him down to this cabin high in the mountains. Far from the Sacred Lands’ north border. It was an ideal place in Kenya’s opinion. Far from the fighting that was occurring more and more every day with the Carja. And add the growing Derangement and rise of new machines…it wouldn’t be long until the fighting spread further south.

“We are going to meet an old friend,” Kenya replied, keeping her spear in hand. Just in case this cabin wasn’t actually accompanied by the Outcasted man. Her back held her bow the same way Aloy’s was, the young child keeping up with Kenya in quick, short strides. “He will not speak to us unless he is spoken to.”

“Why?”

“Because he is an Outcast,” Kenya said, gesturing up the mountain trail. It was not trodden as much as the main road, but Kenya could see a trail when there was one. “He will not like that we are visiting.”

“Then why visit him? Aren’t we not allowed to talk to Outcasts?”

“To a point.” Kenya kept a sharp eye out. Outcasts were few and far, but some liked to form groups. And a child with its mother was a magnet for trouble. “He is someone I knew from before he was an Outcast, Aloy. And he can’t tell the High Matriarchs we saw him.”

Aloy hummed, hopping onto a rock to jump to another alongside Kenya. She barely reached Kenya’s waist, but she had the grace of a Sawtooth hopping from one rock to another. The rise of a true Brave. Aloy paused for a moment to look at Kenya with a sharp eye, “But you didn’t answer my first question. Why visit him?”

“Because, Aloy, he is one of the few I can ever trust.”

As far as Kenya knew, the Braves had kept their children in the dark about what was happening up north. In any other situation, Kenya would have told Aloy gently what was happening. How war was approaching and the Nora needed to ready themselves for a fight for survival. From the reports Kenya received with Sona, the fighting was growing worse every week. More Braves fell in battle and skirmishes and the outer villagers were taken from their homes.

Soon, Kenya and Sona would be sent out to war, leaving their children in the care of the elderly.

But Kenya had more of a reason to be afraid of this than Sona. Sona’s children were blood-related to her and they didn’t carry the undeserved sin of being born without a mother. If not for Kenya, Aloy would most likely have died as an infant, left abandoned in the woods. That was still a danger, because if Kenya were to fall in battle, Aloy would be motherless once more.

And Kenya would drag herself from the depths of the Metal Devil’s Hells to make sure Aloy survived being an Outcast. But the dead never do much when they actually die.

Therefore, Kenya decided five weeks ago that she would seek out her old friend. Out of every person living in the Sacred Lands, he could take care of Aloy when Kenya was no longer able to. He wouldn’t want to, and Kenya didn’t want to force him, but Aloy needed someone out in the wilds.

Kenya did not further her explanation as they reached the top of the mountain ridge. The cabin was protected by a fencing of sharpen-ended logs that were strung together with tight rope. Aloy hopped off the rocks and stuck close to Kenya as she looked around the entrance, wide open and letting the crisp wind blow through like a river between rocks. The cabin was dark and the chimney held no smoke.

He wasn’t here.

“Wonder where he could have gone,” Kenya wondered aloud. She stopped in the middle of the yard in front of the cabin, taking in her surroundings. There was one structure, a Grazer made of hay and wire and targets painted on its skin. Aloy walked up to, looking up with a curious eye as Kenya’s eyes roved over the cabin.

There was meat left out drying on the rack, a fishing pole, and a boar skin that was left to dry on a tanning rack. A man who survived strictly to keep from dying. Not to live though. That could become a problem if Kenya didn’t tread carefully.

Aloy looked around the fake Grazer, eyes wide before turning to Kenya, asking plainly, “Did he make this?”

“Probably so his skills didn’t get rusty,” Kenya offered, eyes going to where a smaller trail was. She saw movement, hand griping tighter on her spear as she dug the handle into the dirt. “Aloy, come to me.”

Aloy straightened, running back over to Kenya just as a burly man came up the trail. He carried a mountain goat, its hair matted but worth saving for the coming winter. He was just as Kenya remembered him as his blue eyes lifted to see her. She gave him a smile, knowing well that he wouldn’t be able to greet her. Kenya could already see the tightening of his thin lips, the displeasure clear in his aura as he stopped feet away from his porch.

Next to Kenya, Aloy kept close to her mother’s legs, cautious of the large man with a cloak of metal that was clear he was no ordinary Outcast. A veteran Brave was what he was. Kenya looked down at Aloy, sending her a reassuring smile before looking up to the man, the smile staying despite his growing frown, “Aloy, this is Rost. An old friend of mine.”

Aloy looked up at Kenya, then at the man who regarded her with a glance. The question was clear in his gaze. It was dangerous for her to be here, more so with Aloy tagging along. If caught, both could become Outcasts quicker than an arrow hitting the first Strider. But Kenya was like Rost in that way.

She found loopholes. Utilized them like any hunter would. Kenya told Rost softly, “I came because I wanted Aloy to meet you. And to watch how you prepare a goat.”

Rost didn’t seem pleased with this, turning away from the pair to set the mountain goat down on the porch. Aloy looked over at Kenya, whispering, “He doesn’t seem happy that we are here…”

“He can’t speak to us, Aloy,” Kenya replied, giving Aloy another reassuring smile. “He may be upset now, but he will enjoy your presence as much as I have. Growing your network outside of the tribe within the Sacred Lands can help you. Outcasts aren’t all bad. They are like us, but did the wrong things that are seen as right.”

“What did he do then?”

Kenya thought about her answer. She didn’t know exactly. But if she hadn’t seen him since his mate and child had died, he might have done something to warrant the title of Outcast being cast upon him. Knowing Aloy, Kenya knew better than to tell the smart child that she didn’t know.

So instead of trying a lie, Kenya told Aloy gently, “That is not our business, Aloy. What we care about is to respect the honored. I will always remember him being honorable. Because that is how he is deep down.”

From the corner of her eye, Kenya could see Rost stop his prepping of the goat to watch the interaction. Whether he thought Kenya would know or not of him being an Outcast, she was unsure. But she was certain that he was relieved from the way his shoulders slumped slightly. She didn’t question, rather telling Aloy, “Rost is someone who used to fight alongside me a long time ago, when I first became a Brave. Did you know that he taught me how to fight?”

“Like you teach me?”

“That is correct,” Kenya replied, looking up to see Rost continuing with prepping the goat. “He taught me many things. Yet he also taught me loopholes.”

“Loopholes?”

“Ways to get around the rules,” Kenya said, smiling at the memory of the first time she snuck out of the village. Far before she was a Brave. “He only taught them out of necessity. Not that he wanted me to learn. But sometimes, to survive, we need to bend the rules.”

“Like how we are here talking to an Outcast?”

“Not talking. Observing,” Kenya smirked. She tapped her nose twice before turning towards Rost, watching him skin the goat now strung up on the porch. It seemed like it was already bled out beforehand with the lack of blood dripping from the lifeless corpse. “Rost is a true Brave, Aloy. If you observe him carefully, you can learn what he knows faster than a whole group of growing Braves. I have yet to surpass him in his skills. He may not be able to speak to us, but he listens and teaches through his actions.”

Aloy stood and watched as Rost continued to carve the goat. She watched with a somewhat bored look, but Kenya knew that it would only be a matter of time before Aloy could realize the potential Rost had in teaching her what he knew. This was a necessary action to take, even if Rost never spoke to Kenya ever again.

Sona had told Kenya once that Rost was dead to her, now roaming as a ghost who lives only because the High Matriarchs allowed him. But that didn’t mean Kenya had lost her respect for Rost. If Sona knew what she was doing right now, Sona would possibly beat Kenya half to death for being stupid.

And as much as Kenya respected Sona, Sona didn’t have the same level of trust that Kenya had for Rost.

Aloy and her watched Rost for a while before he retreated into the cabin and stayed there. Kenya took that as her cue to take Aloy away and to leave him to his peace. As they walked back, Aloy commented loudly, “I didn’t really learn anything…”

“For now, no,” Kenya replied, keeping close as Aloy climbed the rocks once more. “But over time, the more you observe, the more you learn.”

Aloy gave Kenya a silent glance but didn’t say much afterwards. It would take time, and Rost will need time to warm up to Aloy, but Kenya was confident that Aloy would be well taken care of if something were to happen to Kenya. That fear gave Kenya nightmares when she thought too much about it before she went to sleep.

At least, Kenya was reassured that if something were to happen to her, Aloy would be well taken care of.

Chapter Text

Hey all!

Now, I want to start off by saying that this story is not abandoned. It is just going to be a slow update kind of deal because this is a side project that wouldn’t leave me alone and it’s supposed to be a short story.

But I wanted to post this chapter to let you lovely readers know that this story is still ongoing, it’s just taking a while to do so. I am also doing an Overhaul on my entire AO3 account for the next three weeks. This means there will be no chapter update until after it all. Which I know is discouraging, but I wanted to let readers know that I have not abandoned the story and that it has all the plot points from the beginning to the end set up. I just need time when the Overhaul is over with.

When I come back in January with a chapter update, it will be put in this chapter and this note disappears. Hopefully those who subscribed can get notified, but there should be another chapter ready so you’ll definitely get another notification. And if you want to make sure you know when a chapter is posted, I have an official instagram that posts weekly updates for my AO3 account called mad_house_of_dragons_studios. So please subscribe and give kudos if you like the story! And in the meantime, feel free to give feedback on the story!

See ya’ll in 2026! And Happy Holidays!