Chapter Text
2010, An Island in the Pacific Ocean
A man found a girl on the beach.
He saw her impact on the natural landscape first. She had made a little bit of shelter by pulling her life raft over top of the open crevice of a rock face so she could huddle underneath when the harsh storms hit the island. Driftwood was piled in a dug-out pit of sand – a failure of an attempt to start a fire because it was not nearly dry enough on this part of the island. There was a dip in one of the rocks that had been covered in leaves both on bottom and top. A man inspected it. Rainwater, collected and attempted to keep clean for drinking. However long the newcomer had been there, they were surviving at least.
“Come out. A man knows you are there.” He said, staring at the rock he could hear her behind - she was not good at quieting her breathing. A girl came out brandishing a piece of wood like a sword, looking close to death. She was starving and filthy, and she wore desperation like she wore her muddy clothing. But her expressive brown eyes were strong and held no fear of him, even though she must have noticed the bow over his shoulder.
“Who are you?” She asked fiercely, “How did you get here?”
“A man has been here for many years.” He replied, raising one eyebrow in amusement. The child thought she had the upper hand on him with only a stick to defend herself. Of course, he had no desire to harm a girl. “He does not count anymore.”
A girl blinked several times, disappointment beginning to show on her face. “You’re crazy.” Her arm dropped an inch from where it held up her stick-sword.
“Perhaps, or perhaps a girl is the one who is crazy. Or maybe both a man and girl have lost their minds on this island. There is no way to know.” He opened his hands upward – a gesture meant to show openness, that a man would not hurt a girl.
Instead of calming, a girl bristled. Like a startled cat, a man thought with a small smile. “I’m not crazy. And you didn’t answer my question. Who are you? Are we the only people on this island?”
He bowed his head to her slightly and offers a name, one alias of many. “A man has the honor to be Jaqen H’gar. There are more, but a girl would do well not to seek them out.” A man told her seriously, so a girl might know the others are not friends.
A girl’s arm lowered more, close to her side but still pointing her driftwood at him. She hid her fear well, but now he saw it in her eyes. “Why? I need to find a way to get home. A boat, or a radio. My family…” An expression a man had not seen in a long time came over a girl’s face, one a man did not wish to name. “I need to get home to my mother and brothers.” She said.
A man hesitated. “There is no escape from this island. Not for a man. Not for a girl.”
They stayed like that, facing each other and silent for a long moment before a girl spoke again. “I don’t believe you.” She had raised up her mock weapon again, but she looked exhausted. A strong gust of wind could have knocked her down at this point, no matter how much courage she had.
“A girl can believe what she likes, but that does not change the truth of it.” He said. The sound of birds squawking and fleeing the trees from the nearby forest-line caught the pair’s attention. The others were there, closer by the second to where he and a girl stood. A man stepped back and reached for his bow, glancing back and forth between the trees and the girl. “It is time to go. A girl should follow a man, if she wants to survive.” He turned his body all the way towards the approaching enemy. A girl might not trust him, but he trusted her and the truth her eyes told.
“Who are they?” A girl asked from behind him as several figures emerged from the shadows. A man nocked an arrow and fired it rapidly into the shoulder of the closest man.
He ignored a girl’s question and yelled out to the newcomers. The man whose shoulder had been hit clutched his wound and leaned over in agony but stayed on his feet. “A man has given you a warning! He will strike a heart next.”
The hired soldiers hesitated – they knew how many of their own he had killed with as well as he did. And a man remembered more than just the number. He knew all the faces and eyes of the men whose lives he had snuffed out – from both his time on the island and the years before. A faceless man never forgets his offerings to the many-faced god, even if they were many yards away and fell to the strike of his arrows. Even if he never used their faces for himself.
A man had kept the face and name he wore now for the many years he had been on this island. Those who chased him knew him and his skill, so they were not easily tricked by a changed face. But no amount of time would make a man forget what he was – that he had no name, and his life was meant in service of the many-faced god who was death. He would serve the lives of these three men to his god if that was necessary. For now, though, he could not help but think a girl’s arrival after his years of solitude was significant. He had seen a girl’s courage and desire to survive. In those traits she wore so openly, he knew she had a purpose here. That there was a reason his god had brought her here. Most paths, he knew, were altered to the will of fate and deities despite mankind’s best efforts at freedom.
A man turned and grabbed a girl by the arm to pull her behind the rock face she had used for shelter as the mercenaries raised their machine guns. He would put off ending their life’s journeys to keep her alive – for now. A girl protested to being grabbed, but quickly quieted at the sound of ricocheting bullets. Terrible, loud, and graceless weapons, a man thought with contempt.
“This is the second time someone has shot at me in a week.” A girl said quietly, then she looked at him with an annoyed expression. “They’re shooting at me because of you, right? Why do they want to kill you? Did you kill someone with that?” She nodded towards his bow.
“A girl asks many questions, but now is the time to go. Or else a girl might never ask another question.” He replied, peering around the rock while exposing as little of a target as possible. The enemy drew closer, but a man and a girl had not been surrounded or cornered. They could escape into the trees at their back-right if they stayed low and moved quickly. He told her as much, pointing to the spot in the trees they should try to reach first, where the bullets would be caught in the bark of the tall pines.
Brown eyes steeled themselves against his gaze as she said, “I’m ready.”
A man smiled. “A girl has more courage than sense.” But he quickly dropped the smile for a more serious expression, getting an arrow from his quiver and nocking it. “Remember, a girl must…”
“Stay low, I know.” She interrupted, dropping the stick she’d been holding onto for so long. “Like I said, this isn’t the first time I’ve been shot at. Next your going to tell me to bob and weave.”
A man wouldn’t tell her that now, they had waisted enough time. Instead, he simply nodded as a signal and they were off. Running with their backs bent over awkwardly and weaving across the short expanse of beach. Gunfire surrounded them like a familiar song – to a man, at least. Bullets hit the sand and it flew upwards like the water of a geyser.
He turned back and let his prepared arrow loose, not stopping the movement of his feet. He caught a glimpse of his arrow hit the spot he’d warned it would – the chest of one of the mercenaries. A man memorized the face in an instant, then turned forward again.
A girl was quick on her feet – she was at the treeline before he was. Sand coated her like a second layer of skin, but she appeared to retain no injuries.
“This way.” He said, when she slowed to look at him for more instruction now that they were off the beach and protected by pines. He ran further into the dense brush of the forest and uphill. It only took a little more running for the shooting to stop. Their ammo was a precious thing here – they wouldn’t waste any more of it on a target out of sight. They would, however, pursue a man and a girl on foot.
At that speed, the pair reached the hillside cave with a large enough distance between them and their pursuers that his hideout was not compromised. The men passed by the tiny crack of an opening without a second glance. It didn’t seem like a human-sized opening to their eyes, but a man was slim and could contort his body to slip in. A girl fit through easily. Once you got through that small opening the stone and earth widened into a real cave. A second crack further up the incline let light into the cave from above, and a man also kept a couple of gas lanterns he’d stolen from the enemy’s encampment. He grabbed one of those now, to illuminate the areas of the cave untouched by natural light. For the amount of time a man had spent there, he didn’t have much – faceless men weren’t meant to keep many possessions. There was a self-fashioned spit over the fire, two woolen blankets, and a plastic container for drinking water.
A girl had her back to the stony wall and was inspecting it and him thoroughly. Her eyes landed on the spit, where the remainder of meat from a waterfowl he’d cooked yesterday remained. She was starving, and the meat must have looked like salvation to her. A man picked up the stick it was skewered with and offered it to her gently. He said, “It’s yours. Eat.”
For a moment, a girl looked at him suspiciously again. If she’d still had that stick he was sure she’d be raising it now. But whether the short time they had spent together had convinced her to trust him a little, or the fact that she had not eaten in many days, she ended up taking the offering from him.
A man and a girl sat together.