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Chapter Text

One day, Varl begins to hum.

He is maybe twelve, or so, taking care of chores with Vala, when the tune comes to his lips for the first time. It is simple with long notes, but the movement of them is graceful and soothing in a way. He had never hummed much before, but the song comes to his mind by itself, and he is happy to hum its melody.

‘What song is that?’ Vala asks him, but Varl can only shrug.

He doesn’t know. He must have made it up on his own because he cannot recall ever hearing it, except as he himself hums it. The only thing he does know is that the hole in his chest, because he is still divided no matter how far he travels out into Nora lands, seems to hurt a little less when he does.

Bast arrives to hang around with Vala, and Varl watches with muted jealousy; the two are barely apart, a well-balanced pair of trouble and tenderness. They laugh and play together so easily, even as they tend to mere chores.

Varl quickly finishes his work and tells Vala he’s going to practice on the brave trails, but actually he leaves Mother’s Heart to climb a mountain as high as he can; the jagged stone under his hands is familiar, the bracing wind comforting. When he reaches the top, he stands on the sparse snow and slowly circles – hoping, as always, that something inside him will tell him where he needs to go. Hoping something will reveal which village his soulmate is in. He notices over on a neighbouring mountain peak is that little outcast girl, the one with the red hair; she does not notice him, far too busy catching her breath, before she starts to climb back down again to her father.

Alone, Varl hums out his little tune, unaware that very far away a young woman a few years older than he sings it to him.

Chapter Text

Varl has been everywhere since he became a brave.

Mother’s Cradle, her Crown, her Rise, Tears, and Watch. Every Nora settlement he has gone to, stayed there, and made a point to meet people. But still...he is divided.

He returns to Mother's Heart for this year’s Proving; Vala is competing and he hopes for her to win. He puts aside his quiet misery to don a happy face as he returns to the village, but when left alone it is difficult for him to think of much else except his division. He has met conceivably everybody and still he knows he has not yet met his soulmate; he dares not start to wonder if his soulmate is someone outside the Sacred Lands lest he be cast out for that sin.

As he enjoys the festivities, he sees the outcast girl walking about; she is fully grown, a solid foot taller since the last time he had seen her that day he and Vala had been out bow-training. She is pretty, he thinks, as she walks around with wide eyes and keeps an accommodating berth as she navigates past a drunken man who had climbed to the top of a lodge, but he dares not approach her before she has the chance to run the Proving. Just in case.

Instead he goes to find Vala, coming across her – of course – with Bast but also with a group of other hopeful brave-potentials down where the lantern ceremony would shortly take place.

‘Should you be doing last-minute training?’ he asks as he approaches, smiling in practiced ease.

‘Varl!’ she says in surprise, pulling out of the group and rushing over. ‘Mother didn’t tell me you were coming.’

He grins at her. ‘I’ve come to cheer you on. See you become brave.’

Vala smiles up at him, but as she does her expression slowly fades. ‘Are you okay?’

Varl starts to answer, but his throat catches and he suddenly realises that his eyes are full of tears. He laughs wetly and turns slightly from Vala, his hand rising to wipe his face.

‘What’s wrong?’ Vala crowds around him and pulls him into a hug.

‘Nothing,’ he swears. ‘I’m just proud.’

Vala squints at him. ‘That’s not all,’ she accuses softly.

Varl laughs again in disbelief, more bright tears budding. ‘If Mother were here to see this,’ he mutters.

‘She isn’t, so don’t dry your eyes for her.’ Vala fixes him with an expression he is so familiar with – one filled with gentleness but somehow also a demanding compassion, and it suddenly strikes him how mature she is now. He can remember her as a baby, how he would help try soothe her squalling even as a small child himself.

It could be only yesterday that she was walking around on chubby legs, calling him Barl.

Varl sniffs and changes the subject, glancing away from his grown little sister. ‘What are you going to request for your boon when you win?’

At this Vala hesitates, glancing over at Bast, who is distracted by their group of friends. ‘You wouldn’t approve.’

Varl also looks at Bast. ‘I thought you two weren’t romantic...you want a blessing to have a child with him?’

Vala laughs so hard she chokes. Eyes streaming, she clears her throat. ‘No, by the All-Mother, no.’ She waves away Bast who had walked over in concern.

‘Then…?’ Varl prods.

‘He wouldn’t approve either,’ Vala explains sheepishly. 'I wanted to be sure he wasn't listening.'

Varl is non-plussed. ‘What is it?’

‘I would ask for something for you,’ Vala admits quietly, so Varl has to lean in to hear her over the din. ‘I will ask for your immunity.’

‘My immunity?’ Varl frowns.

‘So you can go find them,’ Vala shrugs. ‘Make you a Seeker, maybe, so you can leave the Sacred Lands.’

For a moment, Varl does not understand, but Vala looks at him meaningfully and pokes at his chest where it aches. Unease drips down his spine...she couldn’t know.

‘But I never told you,’ he protests.

‘You didn’t have to. I worked it out.’

‘Did you ever tell-?’

‘No, of course not.’

Varl shoots a look at Bast. ‘Even-?’

‘Especially no.’

A long moment passes while Varl’s breathing returns to normal. Finally, Vala smiles at him. ‘So it’s settled. That’s my boon when I win.’

Varl thinks she is being very casual about this. ‘But – you should ask for something for you.’

‘Just say thank you, Varl,’ she quips, grinning.

Varl reaches over and gives his sister a hug, hearing her laugh in his ear, pausing a little longer than normal.

‘Feel better?’ she asks, and Varl nods.

‘But now it’s going to sound like I’m being selfish if I cheer you on,’ Varl jokes as they withdraw from each other.

‘Nah, I know you would have cheered for me either way.’

At that moment, the High Matriarchs call the contestants over for the lantern ceremony, so Varl steps back to watch while Vala goes back over to Bast; they split apart as they pick out a lantern and raise them to the sky. Varl notices the outcast girl again.

The next morning, Varl wishes his sister to perform her best as she leaves for the mountain trail, her face an excited mix of nerves and potential. She does not come back down.

Chapter Text

Zo’s womanhood blooms late.

She is near fifteen when it comes, unheralded other than a minor discomfort in her belly as she goes to sleep and then a shock of mess in the morning between her legs. Her mother, Zen, cries gentle tears and strokes her cheek – so proud of her little blossom.

She can now choose her song. Her seeds she had chosen long ago, but now – her song.

Zen bids her goodbye at the edge of the village, handing her a canteen of water for the journey. And Zo heads out alone, armed with cloths for her blood, and wrapped in her winter weave.

Along the way she nods at a Land God, quietly and surely digging into the dirt, but otherwise she keeps a careful distance from machines, following the sign markings.

Near an hour later, she enters through a twisted arch into the soul song garden, taking a steadying breath as she steps onto the gravel path that leads her in. It is quiet and far from any shelter here; she will not be overheard – crucial for the first song.

She eyes the four kinds of perennial plants growing in a circle, divided into neatly trimmed quadrants where each grows its flowers in their own season. Zo’s flower is mellowsweet: the patch of sturdy green stems topped with chubby yellow centres and squat rounded petals of white. She smiles. It is her favourite infusion.

She walks to the centre of the garden and kneels towards the mellowsweet, taking her palms to rest neatly on her knees. And she sits so very still, for minutes on end, until her knees and shins are pained.

Until her song comes to her, carried on the music of the wind through trees and the rustle of the mellowsweet.

And then she hums.

Heart in her throat, a waver in her voice: she is a woman now; she has joined the circle of life and death. She may now find her soul partner.

Quietly at first as she learns her song. Louder as it melds with her, as if it were always there. It rises and falls with the speed of the wind, graceful and unhurried, even as her legs ache. Calling out to the other voice.

She hums so long that she begins to doubt her song will be answered. Until finally – the barest whisper.

She quiets, listening intently, a tremble in her arms. A deep breath and then she is humming again.

And she is not alone.

Zo is not sure what she expected, but she sobs just once. Looses a lone tear as she hums along with her soul partner. They learn the song quickly, sinking into place with harmony, and the two hum in symphony with the wind.

The first time. She could not have asked for better, the earth carrying her soul to them - wherever they are.

When she is ready, Zo leans forward and plucks a single mellowsweet stem to bring home. She takes the flower and her soul song with her.

Chapter Text

Varl does not go to hunt as he had told Aloy. Instead, he walks and stumbles across a juncture of rock surrounded by a patch of rare grass in the desert. He climbs it, coming to seat himself down towards the Sacred Land far away.

The desert plain is both empty and full as he gazes out at it; long stretches of dry sand and cracked earth, sparse vegetation, but blue skies and clouds and warm, but pleasant air. He sighs.

‘All Mother…’ His voice is surprisingly weak, so he clears his throat. ‘I seek your wisdom. I seek...patience.’

His lips purse tightly. ‘Today I felt a glimpse...a glimpse of what her good favour is.’ He chokes out an emotional gasp. ‘But I still...feel unchanged.’

‘The Matriarchs have blessed me, and you know I do not wish to pressure Aloy. I cannot tell her she is mine, and I am hers…not yet.’

He grips at his knees. ‘But All Mother, please give me the strength to endure. Grant me this, grant your Seeker this boon.’

He lets out some short frustrated tears, and sits for hours in quiet meditation before walking back the way he came. He kills a stray goose flying overhead and returns to Aloy in the dark; he pays no mind of the disturbed ground around their campsite, too caught by the flattering glimmer of firelight on her face.