#cor writes

I've been thinking about the inverse parallels that Nil and Aloy have with social dynamics with their names, and how it gives them a level of understanding that is completely unique to them and how they regard each other. It's something that is unspoken between the two of them, and yet mutually understood, and it gives a level of emotional depth that is immensely cathartic upon the acknowledgement of each other by name.

**spoiler discussion for Horizon Zero Dawn and Horizon Forbidden West**

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Aloy has only ever wanted to know her mother's name; there's connection and lineage and community in the name of your family. For so much of the "tutorial area" in The Embrace and the events leading up to the Proving, her name is not important to identifying her: she is simply known as "motherless" or "outcast" or both. Lansra wants to deny her even being given a name during the opening cutscene -- it's only through Teersa's kindness and calm, firm insistence that she be named facing the sunrise with a Matriarch's blessing.

Across the games, Aloy is given a number of titles from the various tribes: Anointed of the Nora, Savior of Meridian, Hekarro's Champion. All these titles laud her accomplishments and put her on a pedestal of respect; the complete opposite end of the spectrum to when she first interacts with the tribes.

To the Nora, she has gone from the lowest social status in the tribe as an outcast, to Anointed in one fell swoop-- given a sacred status of near-worship and unquestioned acceptance due to the belief that she has spoken directly to All-Mother within the Mountain. This sudden switch is so jarring for her, and also a stark realization that while she thought she was looking for acceptance, she never wanted it like this.

The Carja have always held arrogant views on the other tribes; their advancement in technology and their organized militarization have given them a distinct advantage over all the other tribes, and with it, a sense of superiority. Their culture and their religion reinforce the idea that the Nora are simply savages, with the upper classes seeing them unfit to even deign faux-civil conversation (as seen in the Hunter's Lodge). In the face of the oncoming destruction led by HADES and the Eclipse, Aloy's victory is seen as heroic and put onto both a figurative and literal pedestal in a display of zealous admiration for her accomplishment at slaying Helis, Terror of the Sun, and saving Meridian from certain doom.

The Tenakth, viciously protective of their land and people, are already disinclined to allow outlanders to walk their Clan Lands in the aftermath of the Red Raids. Fashav tells us that without proper right of passage the Tenakth would attack Aloy on sight, no questions asked, regardless of the importance of her mission. Following the Embassy, the events at the Bulwark, and the defense of the Kulrut, Aloy quickly gains a fearsome reputation and accompanying moniker of Hekarro's Champion -- again, a title of her accomplishments.

Throughout all of her journey, she does her very best to be known by her own name, not by any grand title or reputation of great renown, but simply as the huntress Aloy. She rebuffs most greetings of her monikers with "Just Aloy." in a clear and direct attempt to be met as a person instead of by the sheer force of her reputation as told by others.

So much of her life has been under the weight of other people's perceptions of who they think she is: a larger-than-life-figure, a mysterious huntress with second sight, a formidable warrior even by the standard of great warriors. Even her perception of herself in shadowed by the width and breadth of Elisabet's legacy and sacrifice. Is it too much to ask for her to simply be seen and known as herself, and just as that?

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Nil, conversely, has been known by many names, most of his own choosing. Names are evidently important to Carja culture, as many have epithets or titles to indicate their standing or calling, like Mournful Namman, Studious Vuadis, Javad the Willing, or Well-Traveled Aram. Nil seems to shed names as easily as Aloy does armors, changing and adapting and letting go of past personas quite easily. A name to the Carja is connection, power, and reputation. As we meet Nil, he introduces himself and is then known by a name of his own choosing: one that literally means "nothing". Every name we know him by is one made to embody a new persona, with no connection to his lineage.

Upon first meeting, he introduces himself by telling Aloy to "…call [him] Nil." Notice the wording: "call". Not "My name is…" His phrasing is distinct and deliberate, and majority of the conversation you have with Nil after completing the Devil's Thirst bandit camp is vague in terms of his origins, skirting around clear details and speaking in obfuscated references to past events. Through Janeva, Warden of Sunstone Rock, we learn that "Nil" is not his first name, although it remains uncertain if he was known by his true name or another during his time at Sunstone.

ALOY: Do you know a…hunter…named Nil? He told me about this place.   JANEVA:Nil? That’s what he calls himself now?  Is he well?

2. To the Carja, he is known by reputation and rumour, war stories and whispers; renowned enough that he is recognizable by common Carja Guard, and feared enough that they do not speak his name. It is likely he was given some kind of moniker or a name of near-boogeyman-like status, given the prayer of protection the guard mutters after Nil offhandedly addresses them.

CARJA GUARD 1: Isn’t that…him? From the battle of the Daunt? CARJA GUARD 2: Can’t be.  Cinnabar Sands was before that, and there were no survivors.   NIL: Well, I don’t like to boast.   CARJA GUARD 2: O Sun, keep the shadow from falling upon me.

He knows his reputation carries further than where he walks, and while he acknowledges its connection to him, he still would prefer to be somewhat removed in its association, of the elaboration and hyperbolic storytelling of past deeds and, perhaps, misdeeds.

3. Addressing the animosity held by the neighbouring tribes from the events of the Red Raids, there is one tribe Nil holds to a status of respect and equal regard: the Tenakth. He highlights a kinship and mutual understanding of the need for a fight and the desire of spilled blood; one that Fashav echoes as well:

"As you may have noticed, violence is the native tongue of the Tenakth. To survive, one must master it."

He sheds the skin of Nil the Bandit Hunter for Red Teeth the Racer, to meet the Rebel defectors on equal ground, to fight for respect on their chosen battleground the way Tenakth warriors of the past had fought their way into his respect with their martial prowess and skill. The name he gives them is, again, one he chooses, with no obvious attachment to the past, only embracing the change and growth that is to come with reinventing yourself. Nil chooses to be perceived by the world in a way that is not derived from or reliant on his family name, the heritage that comes with it, or the socio-cultural weight it carries to be recognized as Carja.

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Aloy is given many names by the tribes and people she meets on her journey, but only wants to be known by her own name, to know her own heritage and lineage. In seeking that out, she is both empowered and staggered by the knowledge, and it changes her perspective on who and what she feels she has to live up to -- her tribe's expectations, her predecessor's hopes and wishes for the future world, her own expectations of herself. In the face of that knowledge, she doesn't leave herself the room to consider herself, but still wants to be acknowledged as an individual. Nil does so, and savours the knowledge of her name like a gift:

ALOY: …Nil?  NIL: Aloy.  They told me your name, I said hair like a splash of blood, tenacious as a Scrapper’s jaws. [Main Quest: The Looming Shadow]

Nil gives out new names to be known by --names of his own choosing -- in an act through which he is deliberately shedding the weight, status, and legacy of his birth name, leaving it behind. Instead, he transforms into a different version of himself, one unburdened by birthright and tribal ties.

RED TEETH: That was a well-earned win.  One that merits speaking face to face.   ALOY: Nil?!? NIL: You have to admit, I put on a good show. [The Stillsands Gauntlet race, Condition: Win]

Nil knows implicitly that he can share this secret with her -- the secret of his identity as Carja, a danger in hostile Tenakth Clan Lands. And Aloy still trusts him, still respects him, to keep his secret, even with the secrecy of his bloodied history hanging in slight tension with the circumstances and the environment he's found a home in. Even so, she still calls him by the name he asked to be called by:

ALOY: I’m glad you found your thing, Nil.  Relieved, actually…I think. 

And what a catharsis it is, then, to be known and recognized by the name you yourself value, by the only other person who could understand the weight and power in a name:

100 words based on the tessa violet song, thanks to @starlitsilvereyes for all their help & beta reading

It had seemed like a good idea in the beginning. Before Theo had grown frustrated with Draco’s inability to move past the war. Before he’d started flirting with other people when they went out to dinner.

Draco had tried. He’d carved himself down to be who Theo wanted, but he’d never achieve the easiness of being fourteen again. He wondered if it was still worth it, when he’d never be someone Theo’d like to choose.

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Not in the sense that he would love her less. Falling first just means he saw it for what it was, what was coming.

Not in the sense that she'd love him more. Falling harder just means the realizations hit with that much more force.

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He fell first; she fell harder.

--

The former is a snapshot instance: a pivot in perspective that turns the world on its head. Sudden, abrupt, and all at once life-changing.

The latter is a rush, a wave of realization: a slow but steady accumulation of moments that you didn't realize you were collecting.

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It came to him like a plant seeks water; easy as breathing, face turning to sunlight, following its path through the sky.

It came to her like a river seeks the ocean; meandering, gathering in ponds and lakes, until it all started overflowing.

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It's in the epiphany of "love is a person" for him; he would give the world to her, as she gave the world back to him.

It's in the culmination of "love is a feeling" for her; a warmth in her chest she can carry with her wherever she goes, always knowing there is a place — a person; the source of the feeling — to return to.

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"Not my first firestorm", he'd told her, amidst the flaming buildings of Meridian Village and the Royal Maizelands. Behind him, the fire was raging – thatched-roof buildings going up in a crackle, upright timbers shivering beneath the roar of the flames, spitting embers that were crushed underfoot by both devil-machines and men.  Aloy gave pause for a moment, letting loose an arrow into the breast of the Longleg, before Nil stabbed into its wing-vents, downing the machine.  Shouting at her to go on ahead, to the path that called her further forward– and then she was gone, her hair whipping behind her, a wave of red disappearing into the fire.  The inferno was almost a beast unto itself, the heat whipping up gusts of air that prickled Nil’s skin and searing his eyelids as his eyes whipped around the battlefield, ever alert for a new enemy.  

The last time he'd been in a blaze this fierce, the sky had been choked black with smoke; the air filled with screams and war-cries of Nora Braves, and the clattering crash of a Carja gong and the sonorous call of a war-horn to signal maneuvers to the soldiers rushing down into the fray.  As the tall grasses and the triangle-shaped huts burnt in such a fury that made even the rocks ripple in waves, Nil could vaguely recall standing at the base of the ridge, the heat wafting up and licking across his face and snaking over his armour.  It was his first time in foreign lands, and the excitement and fervor of the skirmish began to take hold in his body.  The blood pounding in his ears, so loud it seemed to drown out the roar of the fires; a keening cry in his veins to stab-slash-parry-cut as Nora warriors emerged from the smoke with clubs and spears upraised.  

There were many things that Nil kept honed to sharp, clear precision, and his blade was only one of them.  

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He always kept his blade sharp, and his arrowheads sharper. And sometimes, when days had passed and there was yet no sign of her on the roads, Nil would run the arrowheads over and through his fingers as he kept and counted through his quiver; a familiar pattern done almost without thought, the motions done as if they were instinct.  A distraction for his hands as his mind counted the numbers of lookouts and fighters within the bandit camp, as well as the wayside travelers who were unfortunate enough to be caught and kept prisoner within the crumbling walls of old stone and metal. 

There were other things that he had to keep sharp – not just his weapons.  His mind and his body were just as important as the blade in his belt, and the Voice of Our Teeth on his back.  And so, when he could feel the anticipation draw tight in his mind and coil into feeling just behind his sternum, Nil would seek out a nicely secluded area to run drills with his sword – slicing through enemies invisible to the eye but spouting delicate fountains of blood within the theater of his mind.  The drills only did so much to keep his mind sharp; rote forms and military methods of practice that did little to sate the simmering hum in his veins. But it would do, for now.  

Cut.  Block.  Mid-parry.  Downward slash.  Block.  

Slash down, slash up.  Block.  Parry, parry.  Block.  

There are flickering lights rippling over the dunes, shifting colours like silk banners in the air.  The lights look ephemeral, transient, almost eerie if not for the delicate structures they outline on half-buried buildings.  Nil pulls up his Charger to a halt atop a sand dune, the mask cocking to the side as he surveys this new sight.  He’d been through the Stillsands not too long ago, maybe a fortnight or so? And the desert had been coloured only with spiraling dust devils and the red-and-green markers of Rebel camps that he’d taken care to avoid.  But now, the desert was alight, and Nil couldn’t resist the curiosity that tugged from behind his sternum to investigate closer.  The light in the sky reminded him of Aloy, of the machine-light she often seemed shrouded in.  The largest, most lingering memory was the explosion of blue at the top of the Spire, him and the old general surrounded by sparking demon-machines and flames, faces turned upward and his body thrumming with the knowledge that she would have been at its epicenter.  The quieter, more constant memory was of her, on the road, backlit by the placid blue light emanating from her mount.  

He ran a hand along the glowing blue wires, giving his Charger a pat before urging her forward.  The machine gave a subtle chitter, an accompanying flicker of her lights as she turned her head as if in acknowledgement, and Nil chuckled to himself.  First, it was back East, and now here in the ever-dangerous West, that seeing humans astride machines was becoming an ever more common sight.  Although, nothing would quite pique his interest the way Aloy had that one day, thundering up to the bandit camp among the Gatelands on the back of a Strider.  She had left her machine a ways back on the road, behind the rocks – a smart move, given that a lone grazing machine would have looked out of place so close to a camp.  

To see someone riding a machine felt like something out of a story, more like the fireside tales of his childhood, or one of the lurid fables of Considerate Udain. The time it took for her to approach his waiting spot allowed him the breadth of feelings from a mild awe and shock, to an impressed appreciation, to a quietly burning curiosity that he let simmer to embers in his mind.  That same wash of feelings came surging through Nil’s chest now as he dismounted and walked forward in wonder.  The apparitions shimmering and flickering overhead felt so much like something Aloy would have walked through, something she would have been drawn to, or drawn forth from the depths of the sand like water from a well.  

It was raining on the day he met her, Nil recalls. It's raining again — another day, another camp filled with bandits, another meeting of this huntress with hair like blood and a fierceness in her eyes that belies her youth. The blood they shed today will mix with the rain, the gentle waters washing away the evidence of their violent actions.

A shame, really. There is some quiet enjoyment to walking through the camp again when it is emptied of the spoil and rot it was once infested with, reliving the subtle thrill of the hunt, of a blade parried there, or an arrow shot returned here. No matter. As the huntress said before, you can only kill once. To relive it is but a little death, no chance to savour it truly but in the moment. 

Also, i just can't let go that there keeps being mention of Ryas's face and/ or identity is important in relation to the Carja's lore and history.

**As always, spoiler discussion for Horizon Forbidden West**

I know it's primarily VR marketing with playing first person yadayada that you don't see the protag's face but consider: the narrative impact of a face/ identity reveal.

Ryas would need to keep his face covered to conceal his identity for multiple reasons, the least of which are:

clearly identifiable upperclass Carja family marks

notorious reputation as established from the Red Raids and known reputation as a member of the Shadow Carja

tribal grudges against the Carja at large due to the Red Raids

If nothing else but to have direct character and narrative parallels to, Nil is another character who keeps his identity concealed:

clearly identifiable family marks as an upper social class Carja (Ligan of the Hunter's Lodge has the same markings as Nil, so reasonably noble class, especially given the history of the Lodge's membership requirements)

notorious reputation established from martial renown in the Red Raids (conversation overheard from guards during the Looming Shadow main quest about Battle of the Daunt and Cinnabar Sands skirmish)

tribal grudges against the Carja at large due to the Red Raids (as said explicitly by Nil, of specifically the Tenakth holding vicious grudges from the time of the RR, but also seen in the animosity held by the Nora and Oseram, and reticence of the Banuk towards the Carja)

It is of great emotional importance to reveal Red Teeth as Nil as a marker of progress and growth in his personal character arc. It's a definitive sign of vulnerability and trust to a person he clearly regards closely and equally.