Chapter 11
The Proving Begins
The first light of dawn crept over the mountain peaks, bathing Mother's Heart in a golden hue. Aloy lay awake in the lodge, staring at the wooden ceiling. The muffled breathing of the other candidates surrounded her, but her thoughts were elsewhere—on Rost, on the Proving, on everything that had led her to this moment.
She had waited for this day her entire life.
A rustling noise beside her broke her focus. Alana stood near the door, adjusting the bracers on her forearms. Unlike Aloy, she wasn't a Proving candidate—she had already earned her place as a brave years ago. Yet, she had still come to see Aloy off.
She caught Aloy's gaze and smirked. "Couldn't sleep?"
Aloy sighed. "Not really. Just… thinking."
Alana leaned against the doorframe. "You'll do fine. You're faster than most of them, smarter too. And let's be real—Bast doesn't stand a chance."
Aloy let out a small laugh at that. "He certainly thinks he does."
Alana nodded toward the door. "Come on. Let's go. Time to make history, Aloy ."
Aloy nodded, grabbing her gear and stepping outside.
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The Proving Begins
The candidates gathered at the starting line, their breaths visible in the crisp morning air. Some fidgeted with their weapons, others adjusted their armor. Aloy stood tall, feeling the weight of the moment settle over her.
High Matriarch Teersa raised her hands for silence.
"Braves-to-be, today you run the Proving, as generations before you have done. The first to cross the finish line will be named champion, but all who complete it will be accepted as full members of the tribe. May the All-Mother watch over you."
A horn sounded. The Proving had begun.
The group surged forward, sprinting toward the first challenge—a sheer rock face, slick with morning dew. Bast and a few others leapt at it immediately, scrambling for footholds. Aloy, however, took a different approach.
She spotted an overhanging ledge the others ignored. With a running start, she leapt, caught it, and hauled herself up in one fluid motion. By the time she reached the top, she had already passed half the group.
Bast scowled. "Not bad for an outcast," he muttered before pushing ahead.
Aloy smirked and kept moving.
The path led into a dense forest, where old ruins lay scattered among the trees. Here, the real challenge began—traps, ropes, and swinging logs designed to test agility and endurance.
Aloy ducked under a swinging log, rolled past a tripwire, and vaulted over a broken pillar. Bast, further ahead, shoved another candidate aside to keep his lead.
Aloy gritted her teeth but stayed focused. Let him waste his energy.
The last stretch was the most dangerous—a steep, rocky descent leading to the finish line. The traditional path was slow and winding, but Aloy spotted something else: an abandoned section of trail, overgrown and barely visible.
She hesitated. The Old Trail… they say no one takes it anymore.
A sharp gust of wind howled through the cliffs. This is it.
With a deep breath, she sprinted toward it.
Bast saw her break off from the main path and shouted, "Hey! That's cheating!"
She ignored him.
Grabbing an old, rusted cable, she leapt and zip-lined down at breakneck speed. The wind roared past her as she landed and rolled to her feet—just ahead of Bast.
The finish line was just ahead.
Bast pushed himself harder, desperate to catch up. But Aloy had already built too much momentum. She sprinted forward—
And crossed the line first.
A stunned silence followed.
Then, a voice rang out:
"No! That's not fair!"
Bast shoved his way forward, his face red with fury. "She took the Old Trail! That's against the rules!"
One of the Matriarchs, who had acted as the referee, stepped forward. "The Old Trail is difficult, but not forbidden. Aloy won fairly."
Bast clenched his fists. "She's an outcast! This isn't right!"
The referee stood firm. "Aloy is the Proving's Champion. And as of this moment—she is a brave."
Aloy barely had time to process those words before—
THWIP!
An arrow struck the Nora sentry in the throat.
She collapsed instantly, choking on her own blood.
For a second, the world seemed to freeze.
Then—
Screams.
Masked figures emerged from the trees, bows drawn. A second arrow whistled through the air and struck another candidate. He crumpled with a cry.
Panic erupted.
Bast stood frozen in shock, his earlier anger replaced with wide-eyed horror.
Aloy barely had time to react before a massive warrior raised a spear—aimed directly at Bast.
Without thinking, she moved.
She shoved him aside just as the spear struck. Pain lanced through her shoulder, but she ignored it, grabbing a fallen bow and rolling behind cover.
More arrows rained down. The Proving was no longer a trial.
It was a slaughter, a fight for survival