Chapter 10
Aloy woke to the soft glow of dawn spilling through the mouth of the shelter. The crisp mountain air carried the scent of pine and damp earth, and the distant calls of grazing striders echoed through the valley. She stretched, feeling the ache in her muscles from yesterday's training. Today was different. Today, she would leave this place—the only home she had ever known—and step into the world of the Nora.
She sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes before noticing Rost standing at the fire pit,sharpening his spear. He must have been
awake for hours, as always.
"You're leaving early," he said without turning, his voice steady but tinged with something she couldn't quite place.
Aloy pulled on her bracers, fastening the straps. "I need time to prepare. And…I just want to see the village before the Proving."
Rost finally turned to face her. His weathered face was unreadable for a moment before he nodded. "Be careful, Aloy. The tribe still sees you as an outsider. Even if the Matriarchs permit you entry, not all will welcome you."
She scoffed, strapping her bow to her back. "I don't need their welcome. Just their acceptance after I win."
He studied her for a long moment, then reached into his satchel and pulled out a small, intricately woven bracelet. "Then take this. A reminder of where you came from—and that no matter what happens, you will always have a place in this world."
Aloy hesitated before taking it. The leather was worn but strong, with beads woven into the pattern—symbols she recognized from her childhood. "Like Alana's," she murmured.
Rost nodded. "I made hers, too. So she would never forget she is not alone."
Aloy tightened her grip on the bracelet, something warm settling in her chest. Then, with a final nod to Rost, she turned and walked away, heading toward Mother's Heart.
The gates loomed ahead, tall and imposing against the rising sun. For the first time, Aloy saw them not as a barrier but as an entrance into a life she had been denied. The guards stiffened at her approach, hands resting on their spears, but beside her, Alana moved with ease.
When the guards blocked Aloy's path, Alana stepped forward, her expression firm. "She's here for the Proving. You know the law."
One of the guards sneered. "Law or not, she—"
"She is permitted," came a voice from above.
High Matriarch Teersa descended the wooden steps, her presence immediately silencing the guards. Her gaze landed on Aloy, and there was something almost…soft in her expression.
"You have been allowed to walk this path, Aloy. But your place among us is not yet earned." Then, turning to Alana, she added, "See to it that she learns our ways before the night ends. And do not let her be late for Braves' Rising."
Alana smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it."
The guards stepped aside, and as Aloy crossed the threshold into Mother's Heart, she felt a strange mix of anticipation and unease.
As the sun set, the village gathered for Braves' Rising. Lanterns flickered in the growing dark, each one inscribed with prayers and names of those who came before. Aloy watched as Alana carefully crafted a lantern for her, hands steady as she etched something into the wood before lighting the small flame within.
"This is yours," Alana said, handing it to her.
Aloy hesitated before taking it. "Thank you."
Alana's eyes glinted in the firelight. "Don't get too sentimental on me."
Aloy found herself sitting in silence, thoughts of Rost and her journey ahead lingering in her mind. But it was the ritual that brought her back to the present.
Alana handed her the lantern with a small, encouraging smile. "It's for the Proving. But also… for Rost," she said softly. "He's part of this too."
Aloy took the lantern, feeling the warmth of the small flame inside. "For Rost," she whispered. And as the night wore on, she knew that this lantern, this moment, would be a step toward a future she could hardly begin to comprehend.
After the festival ended Aloy began moving by herself exploring Mother's heart .The festival burned bright with lanterns and voices, the air thick with the scent of roasted meat and the crackle of bonfires. Aloy moved through the crowd, watching the way the people gathered in tight groups, their conversations a mixture of excitement and wariness.
Then, a man stepped forward, making his way toward the center of the gathering.
He was broad-shouldered, his stance strong, but there was a roughness to him—like someone who had seen his fair share of fights. His armor was different from the Nora's: heavier, metal-plated, built for war. The firelight flickered over the golden emblem on his chest, marking him as an outsider.
The crowd grew quieter as he raised a hand. Clearly, they were unsure of him.
"People of the Nora," he began, his voice carrying the weight of experience. "I know many of you have doubts about the new King of Meridian. You have every right to. The last king—he was a madman. He burned your lands, stole your people."
A murmur ran through the gathering. The memories of the Red Raids still lingered in the hearts of the Nora.
"But the new king is not his father," the man continued. "He seeks peace, not war. And I know this because my sister—Ersa—was one of the many he took. She fought her way out, escaped his madness. And now? She stands at the side of a man who does not seek to enslave, but to rebuild."
Aloy watched the crowd shift, faces tight with mistrust. Some nodded, others muttered amongst themselves. The name Ersa meant little to her, but the way he spoke of her—it was clear he carried her story as a weight.
He scanned the crowd, meeting their uncertain gazes head-on. "I don't expect you to trust me," he admitted, his voice rough but steady. "But know this: the Carja of Meridian are not your enemy. Not anymore. And the sooner we stop looking at each other as enemies, the better chance we have at keeping our people alive."
A long silence stretched over the gathering. Some looked away. Others folded their arms, unconvinced.
Aloy wasn't sure what to think of this man. He spoke with conviction, but she had no idea who he was. A soldier? A leader? Someone from this new king's court? All she knew was that his words had stirred something in the Nora, though whether it was acceptance or simply more unease, she couldn't tell.
Then, from the corner of her eye, she caught movement. A man standing just beyond the crowd, wearing something strange on his temple.
She frowned. Something about him felt… off.
And that was when she noticed it. The faint orangeflicker.
A Focus.
She had never seen a Focus worn quite like his before. He was standing just outside the area near the High Matriarchs' lodge, clearly not a part of the tribe but blending in with the crowd. His Focus wasn't like hers—his seemed more advanced, emitting a faint glow she hadn't noticed in any Focus before. It wasn't until he turned and looked directly at her that she realized he'd spotted her too.
She stepped forward, her curiosity piqued.
"Who are you ?" she said, her voice cutting through the murmur of the crowd.
The man flinched at the sound of her voice but didn't move away. He blinked, as though deciding whether to approach, then finally made his way toward her.
"The name's Olin" His voice was rough, low, as though he wasn't used to speaking with others.
Aloy glanced at the Focus on his temple again. "I've never seen a Focus like yours before."
He chuckled softly, though it didn't seem particularly warm. "Not something you're used to seeing, huh? People in the Nora tribe don't wear things like this."
She frowned. "Who are you?"
The man hesitated, then looked around as if checking for any eavesdroppers. "I'm just someone passing through. But you're not the only one with a Focus in these areas. There's another one , a boy. He wears a mask, and his Focus is… well, different from mine. It glows, and his eyes glow too. Blue."
Aloy blinked, startled by the revelation. "A boy? Who is he?"
Olin shook his head. "I don't know who he is. But I've seen him mingling with the nobles in Meridian and he moves with his Guardian a Banuk tribesman. And he's dangerous. You should be careful around him."
Before she could ask more, Olin quickly turned away, blending back into the crowd.
"Enjoy the festival, Aloy," he muttered as he disappeared.
Aloy stood still, the information swirling in her mind. Another Focus user, a boy with glowing eyes and him being dangerous .Was he connected to what she was searching for? She couldn't shake the feeling that something much larger was at play.
She turned back to Alana, who was already waiting for her.
"Everything okay?" Alana asked, eyeing her carefully.
Aloy nodded, but her thoughts were elsewhere. "Yeah. Just a little… distracted."
Later, as they moved toward the lodging hall, Aloy couldn't shake the conversation with Olin from her mind. She was still processing the mention of the boy with the glowing eyes when they reached theentrance to the hall.
That was when she saw him again—Bast.
The same wiry boy who had been so rude earlier.
"Motherless chuff," he sneered as he saw Aloy. "You still here, outsider?"
Aloy turned, meeting his gaze with a hard stare. "What's it to you?"
Bast glared, his hand tightening around his spear. "If Alana weren't here, I'd put you in your place."
Aloy raised an eyebrow, her stance unflinching. "Try it."
Before Bast could say anything further, Vala stepped between them, her expression cold.
"Enough. The Proving is tomorrow. If you want to fight, do it then."
Bast huffed and stormed off, clearly displeased.
Vala crossed her arms and glanced at Aloy. "You've got something to prove, Aloy. Better be ready for the Proving."
Alana smirked, nudging her shoulder. "She will be. And she'll win."
Aloy didn't reply immediately. Her mind was still filled with the mystery of the Focus users, and the boy Olin had mentioned. She had a feeling that the answers she sought were much closer than she'd realized.
As the three of them entered the hall, Aloy felt a weight in the air, but this time, it wasn't the same as before. It was the weight of something about to change—something big.