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[GaliGee]

The second half of this epic, Journey into the Light -- Part II: Peacetime, is in progress.
Review topic here.

Journey Into The Light

Takua’s Journal

Part I: The Bohrok-Kal

Summer 1 : 1

There, I wrote in this thing. The first page is no longer blank.

I guess I should explain what this thing is. I’m Takua the Chronicler, from Ta-Koro, the village of fire, and this is my journal. Turaga Vakama gave it to me, along with a nice fancy ink pen, to carry with me as I travel and document the events unfolding on Mata Nui. Whenever I get back to Ta-Koro, I’ll transcribe them onto the Wall of History. He said to fill it with lots of detail, since I can always shorten it later when I transcribe it. Besides, it’s easier to write in a paper book than to carve into stone. So I’m going to write about everything, even the things I’m not going to tell Turaga Vakama. I’m going to be the only one reading it, anyway.

I wish I had had this book a long time ago. I lost my memory at one point, and it would have been helpful to have written some things down. My friends tell me I had quite a few adventures back then. I traveled all over the island, eventually finding and gathering the Toa stones that brought the legendary heroes to Mata Nui. The whole thing is still rather foggy to me, but occasionally something happens that triggers a memory. When that happens, I’ll write it down here, too.

And then there was the last moon of the infected Rahi. Anyone who has studied Mata Nui history knows how that went. My memory is intact from the time I woke on the beach in Ta-Wahi, my head throbbing and my mask lying next to me in the sand. Maku was yelling and waving her arms, and I went to talk to her. From that moment on, I re-learned who and what everyone was on Mata Nui. I traveled to all the villages, wondering who I was. Everyone was having problems, and they treated me like a hero for helping. Turaga Nokama started calling me ‘Chronicler’ and said I had an important destiny. Turaga Nuju asked me to carry a message to the other village elders. And Turaga Vakama talked me into gathering a company to help the Toa, like I was some kind of leader. Hey, I was just in the right place at the right time. Finally, the Toa gathered at the Kini-Nui to confront Makuta, and we went there to defend their backs. And then something amazing happened. Toa Gali sent me visions from deep in Mangaia, so I could tell the tale of the defeat of Makuta. Her transmission was interrupted once things heated up, though, so I had to go down there myself to witness the final battle. It was unforgettable.

Turaga Vakama was there on the beach to greet me when it was over. I had gathered, from some things he had said while I was wandering, that I had left my village on less than friendly terms. The memory of his warm, welcoming words, after my long exile, will be with me forever.

Of course, Makuta wasn’t finished with us yet. In his death throes, he triggered the release of the Bohrok. I saw the first of them hatching, right after he went down. They did their best to devastate the entire island, but of course the Toa defeated their queens and came back more powerful than ever, and we were safe again. While the Toa were gone, I traveled with Jala and Nuparu, helping the Matoran defend themselves against those nasty mechanical bugs, and that’s when Jala and I became best friends. We stayed in Ga-Koro for a little while after the Toa’s victory, because a certain pretty Ga-Koronan came up to Jala and put a flower in his mask. He still blushes when I remind him of that.

Now Jala and I have the opportunity to travel again. It’s not a pleasure trip, though. Apparently the Bahrag had six weapons in reserve, the Bohrok-Kal. The one we saw looked like a Bohrok, but it possessed strange and terrifying powers. It came and electrocuted Jala on the way to stealing Toa Tahu’s Nuva symbol from his Suva. So Toa Tahu is tracking it down to regain his elemental powers, which disappeared with the symbol. The first good look we got of Toa Tahu with his Nuva form and mask was right before the Tahnok-Kal made the stone doorway collapse on his head. Turaga Vakama says Tahu’s new powers are really impressive. I wish we had gotten to see them. But even though Tahu has lost his fire, his temper is still plenty hot.

Turaga Vakama let us go with Toa Tahu, to offer assistance and of course to record his story. I doubt if we can really help him, because even without his elemental powers, he’s many times stronger and smarter than we are, and he still has his noble masks and the Mask of Shielding. In the old days, before he went Nuva, he would have gone by himself using his Kakama, but now apparently Toa Pohatu is the only one who has one. But it’s probably good for Toa Tahu that we’re here, because it never hurts to have a couple of extra pairs of eyes, and a couple of extra heads. I think maybe Turaga Vakama wants us to be there just to keep Toa Tahu from going crazy with rage.

So, here we three sit, warming ourselves by the campfire. We’ve walked a long ways today, and I think Toa Tahu stopped only because Jala and I were starting to lag behind. I really miss my Ussal crab, Puku. She would definitely make this a lot easier, but as we were getting ready to leave, she took one look at Toa Tahu’s scowl and scurried back into my hut.

We’re somewhere between Ta-Wahi and Le-Wahi, judging from the terrain. It’s still barren volcanic rock for the most part, but the jungle has crept closer and taken a foothold in the rich soil it turns into when it decays. Every now and then some glowing eyes appear out of the patchy underbrush to check us out. Except for a few birds and insects, it’s pretty quiet.

Toa Tahu hasn’t said three words since we started out. He’s just staring morosely into the fire. His mask is gray now, the color of undifferentiated protodermis, since the Bohrok-Kal stole his fire. I feel really sorry for him. It must be awful, losing the very core of his identity, his reason for being on this island. Of course, if I expressed any sympathy, he would probably explode at me. So Jala and I have been keeping quiet, too.

I suppose this is enough writing for now. Jala has just returned from hunting, and I’d better start cooking the meat he hauled back. It’ll be enough to last us several days. We’ve gotten the camping routine down pretty well by now, me and Jala. He hunts while I gather, I cook while he keeps watch. Toa Tahu refused my trail mix while we were walking, but he actually ate some of the nuts I roasted while Jala was gone. Maybe he’s starting to calm down a little. I sure hope so, because it’s pretty dreary to travel with someone unless you can make conversation.


Summer 1 : 2

This morning, we made it into the thick of the jungle. I love it there, except for one thing: the bugs. Well, I don’t much care for the humidity, either. And the poisonous plants. Okay, so there are a lot of things not to like about Le-Wahi. But the sunlight streaming down through the tree canopy, and the colorful flowers and birds, make it all worthwhile.

Toa Tahu seems to have cheered up a bit. His frown is gone, anyway. I wandered off the trail to look at a really weird flower, and I stepped into a swampy spot up to my waist. Tahu heard my yell and came back for me. I was struggling in the muck, and he extended his sword to me. I caught a hint of a smile as he pulled me out. And then he tossed me in the air, spinning, to fling off the mud. He used his Hau to keep himself from getting splattered. Jala ducked behind a bush. He wrinkled his nose and complained about the smell. Jala walked on the other side of Toa Tahu after that.

The next time we got to a stream, Toa Tahu shoved me in. I hate getting wet, but at least I was clean again. Jala was laughing at me, so I got back at him by standing next to him and shaking the water off. Then Toa Tahu started laughing. No one can stay grumpy in Le-Wahi for very long. The jungle always has a way of reminding you of how crazy life really is.

When we took a break at mid-day, a bear came sniffing around to see what we were snacking on. Jala immediately jumped up, disc at the ready. Toa Tahu was a bit more complacent. He just sat there and watched the bear bounce off the shield of his Hau. It was incredible how his Kanohi protected all of us! It seems the protodermis made the Great Masks capable of that. Jala says maybe it’s a big hint from the spirit Mata Nui that the Toa are supposed to work together, but I’m not going to be the one to break the news to Toa Tahu. Before we left, Jala told him Hahli had overheard that Toa Gali was really mad at our Toa for splitting up the group. Apparently they were all testing their new powers against one another, and he and Toa Kopaka got pretty nasty with each other. Anyway, when Jala said that, Toa Tahu started grumbling that he didn’t need Toa Gali’s help, or anyone else’s. That’s when Turaga Vakama gave us the nod to go with him.

The bear kept coming back at us, so Toa Tahu stood up and jumped on its back the next time it lunged. Jala and I cowered behind a rock, watching with fascination as it thrashed and bucked, trying to throw him off. Toa Tahu changed to his Komau, and the animal let him ride it to a stop. Finally he let go and jumped to the side. Toa Tahu had a big grin on his face as the exasperated bear scrambled into the woods.

But soon we resumed the trail of the symbol thief, and he became serious again. It looked like the thing was speeding up. Toa Tahu kept stooping down and examining the crushed leaves and footprints in the moist ground. He didn’t tell us anything about what he was thinking, so we just trotted along behind him. It was a long day of nothing, except for the adventures with the mud and the bear.

So, since I don’t have anything interesting to write about, and I’m not sleepy yet, I might as well tell the tale of the defense of Ga-Koro against the Pahrak. Even though the basic description of the action is already on the Wall of History, in here I can add the funny parts. Now I’m really going to have to make sure Turaga Vakama never sees this!

Well, Jala had been sent by Turaga Vakama to check on Ga-Koro. Our Turaga is always very solicitous and protective of Ga-Koro, because let’s face it, girls are not as strong as we are. But they’ve never really needed our help, because they are really clever and resourceful. Sometimes I think not being as strong has caused them to be smarter than we are. So maybe Turaga Vakama was just being a gentleman, or maybe there’s more to it than that. I have my own theory. But enough about Turaga Vakama.

I had been with Nuparu and Moki in Le-Wahi. Say, that’s another story I need to write, but not today. We had just freed the Le-Koronans from the Nuhvok, and Nuparu told me that Onu-Koro had been evacuated already because of the Gahlok. He had actually invented the Boxor during their attack, originally as a tool to dig them out because he and Taipu and Onepu were trapped by a cave-in. Then he noticed that the Boxor could be used against the Bohrok. All right, I’m really getting off the subject here.

So, we knew that Onu-Koro was beyond hope, but the people were safe. Le-Koro was all right. Jala’s scouts had told us Ta-Koro was holding against the Kohrak, and we had no idea what was happening in the other three villages. So we decided to head for Ga-Koro first. Who wouldn’t?

We met Jala on the way there. He told us there had been reports of Pahrak in the area. We all crossed the causeway, Nuparu and Moki in their Boxors. I already had my doubts about those things when I saw them walking on the lily pads, because it was obviously tricky to maneuver them on a piece of floating plant. But I figured maybe they would intimidate the Bohrok, if nothing else. We got across, and immediately a swarm of Pahrak showed up at the gate of the village. So we had the most unlikely combatants you could imagine in the water village: a couple of bulky machines really designed for tunneling, and a bunch of heavy creatures whose element was stone.

Turaga Nokama seemed relieved to see us. She was about to tell us what to do, but then Kotu came running in and interrupted her. And then we saw something even more unexpected: boats full of Po-Koronans. I pinched myself just to make sure it wasn’t some wacky dream. It turns out the Po-Koronans had been driven out of their fortress village by the creatures best suited for destroying stone: the Tahnok. So they headed for Ga-Koro. Who wouldn’t?

Anyway, everyone knows the story about how Huki saved Maku from a flying rock as she dismantled the causeway to prevent the Pahrak from reaching the village. That was really amazing. He just grabbed Hahli’s net staff and swung it. I guess he’s really coordinated from all that koli playing. I never would have made that shot.

So, the Pahrak were held off for a little while. Everyone got a rest for their jangled nerves that night. But we knew the Pahrak hadn’t really given up. Jala and I were walking around and talking, and to my surprise Hahli, who’s kind of shy, joined us. We walked out to the lily pad where Huki and Maku were sitting. As soon as I saw them, I realized they wanted to be alone, but Jala was totally clueless. He just jumped right into the conversation. Poor Huki and Maku moved apart on the lily pad. With more than two villages of Matoran spending the night on a dozen lily pads, I suppose privacy was pretty much impossible.

The next morning, the Pahrak made a path to the village from the other side by smashing that beautiful Kaukau statue at the waterfall. Those nasty bugs dumped Nuparu and Moki right into the water with their Boxors. And Maku and Kotu swam down and pulled them out. Onu-Koronans aren’t bad swimmers, but it took them a while to get out of the Boxors, and they were running out of air. So much for the fragile girls needing help from us!

So, there we were, facing off the Bohrok, when the goat-dogs showed up. The Turaga immediately realized that the Va were swapping the Pahrak’s krana with Vu so the Pahrak could fly. They zoomed at us and smashed some of the huts, then regrouped for another attack. The Matoran and Turaga were all huddled together on one big pad, but Jala and I had been split off from the group, and we felt really helpless. Then I saw the poles and tested one, and they were nice and springy. I looked at Jala, and he understood what I wanted to do. I climbed one, and he launched me. I made my stand, and the Pahrak stopped. Probably because they were curious as to what kind of fool would actually do a stupid thing like that.

Later Jala said, “That was crazy, Takua! What were you thinking when you jumped out there in front of those things?” So I asked him, “What were YOU thinking when you launched me?” He just laughed.

I don’t even remember what I was thinking. I just knew I couldn’t stand by and let those people get hurt by those monsters. And by some miracle, the Toa defeated the Bahrag at just that moment, and the Bohrok just shut down. Turaga Nokama said if I hadn’t jumped in front of the Pahrak, the Toa’s victory might have come too late to save the Matoran on that lily pad. But I don’t think I was a hero. All I know is, I happened to be in the right place at the right time. Again.


Summer 1 : 3

This afternoon we found Toa Lewa. Actually, he almost fell on us. We were picking our way through a wetland when he crashed through the tree canopy and landed right in front of Toa Tahu. He just missed a big patch of swamp.

He groaned and gave us a half-smile when he saw us. He wanted to just lie there, tangled in the briars, but Toa Tahu snapped, “On your feet, Toa of Air!”

Toa Lewa explained that he was chasing a Bohrok when he suddenly felt too heavy to fly, and he realized he no longer had power over the wind. When Toa Tahu told him it was a Bohrok-Kal, Toa Lewa seemed relieved to be able to blame it on the Bohrok.

Toa Tahu resumed the pace. Toa Lewa stumbled along behind us, looking rather dejected. It occurred to me that maybe he didn’t really feel at home walking on the ground, since he’d always traveled in the treetops whenever he could. Even though it was his jungle, he let Toa Tahu lead the way.

The forest got really dense, and Toa Tahu started hacking the vines out of the way with one of his swords. He glanced behind him to make sure we were still following him. Jala and I were right there, but Toa Lewa had lagged behind. “Lewa!” he yelled. “Get your lazy rear in gear! This is not a sightseeing tour!”

Toa Lewa shouted back, “The bug-tracks are heading this way, Tahu. And I think the one I was fly-chasing has joined yours, because there are two sets now.”

Toa Tahu turned around and followed his voice. We found him a few dozen bios away, pointing to a trail cut through the thicket. I was really relieved to see it. At least the Bohrok-Kal had enough sense to take the easy way. Toa Tahu stepped into the lead again, and we started following the path.

Toa Lewa asked, “Is your Toa always this full of joy-cheer?”

We could see Toa Tahu's back stiffen as he walked a couple bios ahead of us along the trail. Jala, who's always really good at being diplomatic in this sort of situation, answered. “Well, Toa Lewa, I think you probably know him as well as we do. After all, you Toa have been through some really dire situations together.”

Toa Lewa nodded. “Yes, we have, little fire-soldier.”

Jala must have been feeling plucky, because he kept the conversation going. “But aren’t you angry that your powers have been stolen, too?”

“Of course I am. But I’m not going to make my true-friends miserable over it. No one’s been hurt, and we have to keep each other brave-hearted.”

Toa Tahu stopped and pivoted on his heels to look at Toa Lewa. Jala and I were trapped between them, with impenetrable jungle on each side. We glanced uneasily from one gray mask to the other as they faced off over our heads.

“Just what are you saying, Lewa?” challenged Toa Tahu.

“I’m saying that you should lighten up, Tahu, and stop spreading your deep-gloom to the rest of us.”

They stared at one another, neither flinching. Their eyes blazed intensely. Toa Lewa was shifting his weight from one foot to the other like he was starting to feel uncomfortable, but he stood his ground.

Finally Toa Tahu cracked a smile. “You’re right, you insufferable airhead,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’m doing just what you accuse me of.” He clapped Toa Lewa on the shoulder. “Let’s save our anger for those vile creatures we’re tracking.”

Jala and I decided it was probably safe to breathe again. Toa Lewa grinned back at Toa Tahu. “You may have lost the fire-spark in your swords, but it’s still there in your heart.”

Toa Tahu muttered something about how the morale speeches were better left to the Turaga. Then he turned and led the way again.

We had already covered a lot of ground today when we found Toa Lewa, and I was really happy when Toa Tahu finally announced that it was time to make camp. As I built the fire, Jala started asking Toa Lewa a bunch of questions about the Bohrok-Kal. Jala’s always telling me how important information is in planning war strategy. I’m glad he’s interested in that stuff, because it helps him do a good job defending the island. But personally, I find it really boring. Whenever he gets started on his military theories, I usually just daydream about lava surfing, or traveling, or Nixie.

But anyway, Toa Lewa told us that the Bohrok he was chasing had taken the symbol from his Suva in the village. He was sitting in a tree playing his horn and wondering why he was suddenly unable to make it sound right. He figured something had gotten stuck inside it, and he was holding it upside down and shaking it, when Kongu flew over on Ka and landed next to him. Kongu told him this really shiny Bohrok had swiped the symbol and jumped out of the big tree, floating to the ground. Then Kongu took off toward Le-Koro again. Toa Lewa jumped up and spotted the creature on the ground below. It was carrying the symbol on its back. He swung away after it, and that’s when he realized he had lost his air powers. The Bohrok looked up at him, waved its hand shields, and immediately he plummeted to the ground. That’s when we found him. So we must have just missed the thing.

Of course Toa Lewa told it a lot longer than that, with all sorts of irrelevant details about what kind of tree he was sitting in, how Ka landed on the branch without knocking off any of the flowers, and so on. Toa Tahu got a little impatient with the storytelling style, but he was very interested in the part about the Kal itself. He concluded that the black one that took Toa Lewa’s powers must have control over gravity, like the red one does over electricity. He started referring to them as the Tahnok-Kal and the Nuhvok-Kal. Toa Lewa asked what he planned to do whenever we caught up with them, and Toa Tahu just smiled grimly and swung his sword through the air. I couldn’t help but remember how the Tahnok-Kal had frozen Jala in an electric field and brought down all those rocks on Toa Tahu’s head. And apparently the Nuhvok-Kal was stronger than Toa Lewa’s Miru, too. But I decided I’d better let the Toa worry about all that. I’m just here to write about it.

After we ate and cleaned up, I offered to keep the first watch of the night. Everyone else is lying down, and from the sound of his breathing, Toa Lewa is already asleep. So, I’d better stop writing and put away this journal. Jala always says when you’re keeping watch, you’re actually supposed to be watching out for danger. So, since he’s lying over there glaring at me, that’s all for today.




If you would like to post comments, please do so in my GaliGee's Stories topic.

Edited by GaliGee, Feb 10 2012 - 01:56 PM.

[GaliGee]

Summer 1 : 4

This morning, a breathless Toa Lewa woke us all up early. He was on guard duty and he heard a noise. While the rest of us were still asleep, he crept away and spotted the Kal. It seems they had come back toward us. They were looking for something, apparently. He said the Nuhvok-Kal picked up a small metallic object out of the bushes and put it inside the Tahnok-Kal’s headplate. Toa Tahu said it must have been a krana, and Toa Lewa agreed. The new krana went in over the old one, like the Toa masks. Toa Lewa described the way the Kal had leaped away really fast, flying in short bursts, so it probably was a Vu. The Nuhvok-Kal must already have had that one. Toa Lewa figured it might have used that, along with its gravity power, to get up the tree to the village.

Toa Lewa said (after telling us all about the longest Kuna he had ever seen, which he tripped over in his haste to get back to the camp) that he wanted to attack the Kal, but they were too fast, and without his air powers or a Kakama, he couldn’t keep up with them. Toa Tahu said that was just as well, and Toa Lewa should have learned his lesson by now about jumping in and assailing enemies alone. Toa Lewa reminded him that he had also fallen victim to a krana once, and Toa Tahu just grumbled a little and fell silent. I remembered how, when we set out, Toa Tahu had said he didn’t need any help from anyone, but I held my tongue.

Instead, I asked if they thought there would be Kanohi Nuva around to find now, too, since the Toa’s extra mask powers had disappeared after their Nuva transformations. Toa Tahu said, “I certainly hope so, because I don’t want to have to go find Kopaka every time I want to look through a rock.” But he also said they shouldn’t get distracted searching for them, until they had their elemental powers back.

I handed out some breakfast to everyone while Jala buried the embers of the campfire. Then we started walking. The Kal are obviously moving faster now, with their new powers. Toa Tahu insisted we hurry, but the tracks have gotten a lot harder to follow, so we got a lot of extra exercise doubling back and retracing our own steps. I wish Toa Tahu would let Toa Lewa lead us, but I can’t blame Toa Lewa for not wanting to start an argument about it. And at least Toa Tahu is listening to him whenever he has an idea. Every now and then Toa Lewa climbs up a tree to look, and that helps, too. But I can’t wait to get out of this jungle. Le-Wahi is huge. And as carefully as Tamaru explained to me his wayfinding tricks, I still don’t know how the Le-Koronans keep from getting lost.

Well, while I’m on the subject of getting confused in the woods, I might as well tell about the liberation of Le-Koro from the Bohrok. When I went to find Nuparu and his Boxor squad in Le-Wahi, I must have gotten lost a dozen times. From Jala’s scouts, I had heard that Toa Onua had brought them along when he went to find Toa Lewa, and Toa Lewa told them the entire village was wearing krana. The Boxor drivers took the krana from a few of the Lehvak that were there. So I went to find them and see what was happening. There was bound to be a good story in the making.

I finally found their camp one night from the glow of the lightstones shining through the leaf tent. What a relief that was, to step into the light and hear friendly voices instead of creepy jungle noises! They had seen a few Nuhvok breaking down trees after they defeated the Lehvak, so they were trying to figure out how to get past them and save the villagers.

Then Kongu and Tamaru showed up. As everyone knows, they were the only ones who had escaped the Lehvak attack on the village. They were really discouraged, because they didn’t even know Toa Lewa had been saved. After I told them the good news, we came up with a plan. Of course, I had to translate it to Nuparu, to whom treespeak is total gibberish. For once, my pointless wanderings turned out to be useful, because I can understand that stuff.

So, Kongu and Tamaru crept over to where most of the Nuhvok were, while Nuparu and his squad dug holes in a field with the Boxors for us to hide in. The free Le-Koronans taunted the Nuhvok and lured them into the clearing, where the Boxors could fight effectively. If it weren’t for their leafrunning skills, they never would have been able to do that. We were lucky, because the villagers, who were following the instructions of the swarm, came along, too, so we didn’t even have to go find them. And we ambushed them all and ripped off their krana. I got to save Turaga Matau! That was really great. I hope he told Turaga Vakama all about it.

The hardest part about the whole thing (besides resisting the urge just to stay hidden in my hole when the Nuhvok showed up) was finding the villagers’ masks after the fight. After we tore off the krana, they were free again, but without anything on their faces, they all started to feel weak and dizzy. So we started frantically searching near the village, where the Lehvak had overcome them. The Lehvak had stashed them all away in a hole under a big rock. Tamaru was the one who found them. He noticed marks from digging that didn’t match any animals he knew. The Boxors were able to lift the rock pretty easily. I think the villagers would have lapsed into unconsciousness if they had had to wait for Toa Kopaka to come back from the Bahrag battle and use his Akaku to find them. They were so grateful to get their masks back! Even though the village was partly wrecked, Turaga Matau managed to put together a party for us. The Le-Koronans scrounged up some food and a few instruments, and it was almost like old times. But we had to leave right after that, because we didn’t know if the other villages were still in danger. So we headed for Ga-Koro, as I wrote about a couple of days ago.

I’m really thankful to Turaga Vakama for giving me this journal. It gives me something to do in the evening, if it’s not my turn for watch duty. I chat with Jala a little, and then I sit and write until I’m tired. I put the pen, ink pot, book, and lightstone in my backpack, and go right to sleep. Otherwise, I would lie awake in my bedroll in the dark, listening to all the noises and imagining scary things. I hate the dark. It’s not that I’m afraid of it, exactly, but I really don’t like it. When I can’t see, I feel totally defenseless.

Not that I would stay awake too long, anyway, as tired as I am from trying to keep up with Toa Tahu’s pace. But still, I’m glad for something to do in the evening. Jala goes right to sleep as soon as he lies down, if he’s not on watch. I suppose it’s his guard training that gives him that kind of discipline.

It’s been a long day. My writing is starting to get really sloppy now, so I’ll stop here.


Summer 1 : 5

We finally got out of Le-Wahi today, and crossed into Ko-Wahi. Now it’s a lot easier to follow the Kal’s tracks, because they are really obvious in the snow, even with the pine trees in the way. But it’s so cold here! I hope the Kal lead us somewhere else soon. Or better yet, I hope the Toa just knock them out and take their symbols back. But that doesn’t seem likely at this point. They are still staying way ahead of us.

We are camped out not too far from Ko-Koro, by the edge of the tree line at the base of Mount Ihu. Toa Tahu wanted to keep going, but Jala pointed out that this was about as far as we could go and still have a campfire, unless we wanted to haul the firewood with us. And we really need a fire tonight. Now that the sun has gone down, it’s gotten bitterly cold.

Toa Tahu grumbled that if he had his fire powers, we wouldn’t need firewood. He could just heat up some rocks for us to gather around. And Toa Lewa said if he had his air powers, he could summon a balmy breeze from Le-Koro. Instead, we’re relying on Jala’s guard skills to keep warm. It’s funny that my little buddy is more useful than the mighty Toa are right now.

But everyone seems to feel better now that we’re sitting next to the campfire, looking into the flames. A fire is always fascinating to watch, and it seems to invite camaraderie and storytelling. Toa Tahu and Toa Lewa have been reminiscing about the time they combined their powers to burn out a big Nui-Rama hive in Le-Wahi. They described the way the flames shot out the top, and then the giant mud tower started to lean and finally collapse with a huge crash. Mad bugs were buzzing everywhere, and an enormous cloud of dust and burning debris rolled toward them. The Toa seem to like big, dramatic explosions. It’s something in their nature, maybe so they won’t be intimidated by the intensity of their own powers. Their laughter has made them forget that they were cold and miserable. I can’t really complain, myself. Except for my hands and mask, which are outside the bedroll so I can write, I’m nice and warm. Hey, I’m the Chronicler. If I don’t write this stuff down, no one will.

But at least it’s summer, so it’s as warm as it gets in Ko-Wahi. Nixie, the astrologer from Ga-Koro, told me that if our island were much farther north, the seasons would be a lot more pronounced. In winter it would be like Ko-Wahi all over, and in summer, it would be like Ta-Wahi. But since we are pretty close to the middle of the planet—she called it the ‘equator’—we have almost the same temperatures year round. I like it that way. I don’t think I could face winter if the whole island froze. I suppose I wouldn’t know any different, though.

The thing I notice most about the seasons is the length of the days. I love the summer, when it’s light until late in the evening. And the sun rises and floods the sky and earth with beautiful light before I even wake up. I think that’s why I like traveling so much. In Ta-Koro, inside the big volcano, it’s never dark because of the glow of the lava. But on the other hand, it never gets very bright, either, because the sun doesn’t shine directly into the village.

Nixie explained the seasons to me at the victory party after the defeat of Makuta. I first met her when she helped me figure out how to open the mysterious underground sundial in Onu-Koro using a gnomon she had found years before. That turned out to be the way I was able to get to Makuta’s lair to see the Toa fight him.

And since no one else is going to read this, I can write about Nixie. When I stepped into her hut to ask about the sundial, I had no idea what was about to happen to me. It’s always fun to have an excuse to be in Ga-Koro, because every one of the villagers is lovely. But Nixie is even more so. She turned around and spoke, and I completely forgot what I was going to say.

Well, she looked at me expectantly, and I handed her the miner’s sketch, and somehow I managed to stammer some words. She smiled at me, and it was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, all light and joy. She told me it was probably a sundial, and said some stuff about the markings, and handed me the gnomon. Then she said she had a lot of work to do and politely shooed me out of her hut. I almost walked off the lily pad into the water, but somehow I got across to land. She was right about the sundial.

After that, I started to wonder about what else Nixie did, and what she could tell from the stars. I’ve always liked stars, anyway. Those little shining points of light seem to offer some kind of hope in the night, as if to say, “All is not dark.” And I guess that’s what they’ve been to us Matoran, their prophecies giving us hope during the dark time of Makuta’s reign of terror.

So, at the victory party, I finally got up my courage and walked over to Nixie. I made some silly comment about new hope and springtime, and that’s when she explained about the seasons. Then she stopped talking and looked at me. Maybe she had just noticed that like her, I have a blue Pakari, which is really weird for a Ta-Koronan. Or maybe she was wondering if I really understood what she had just said. I said it was amazing that she knew so much about the world from looking away from it, and she smiled at me. Then she invited me to come up to the telescope and look at the stars with her some night. I just about passed out.

But before I could make a complete fool of myself, Turaga Nokama walked up. She was gathering her villagers for the trip home. Turaga Nokama likes me, I think. She patted me on the back and said some flattering things about my role in the defense of the Kini-Nui. Thank goodness for Turaga Nokama!

Of course, later that day the Bohrok showed up, and there was no question of traveling unless it was absolutely necessary. I had an extra reason to curse those horrid bugs.

After the defeat of the Bahrag, I got to see Nixie again. We played games in the water with Jala and Hahli. The girls got on our shoulders, and we waded out into the shallow water, where they tried to knock each other off of us. Even though Jala and I both hate water, we had the time of our lives. Then we sat down by the bonfire on the beach, dried ourselves off, and told stories. None of them could top the story we had just lived ourselves, though. That was the rescue of Ga-Koro from the Pahrak.

Even though I’m feeling all warm inside from thinking about Nixie, my hands are almost too numb to write now. So I’m calling it a night.


Summer 1 : 6

We made it to Ko-Koro late this morning. The guards waved us through the various gates and tunnels until we reached the Sanctum, and there we faced a big dilemma. First of all, we got really confused about the tracks. They went in circles, and there were several sets coming and going as we approached the village. We decided to go into the Sanctum and see what Turaga Nuju could tell us. Or, rather, what Matoro could tell us Turaga Nuju was telling us.

When we got inside, I was happy to see Kopeke there, because he’s a great guy. We fought the Rahi together at the Kini-Nui way back when the Toa were battling Makuta, and not only is he a great shot with a disc, he’s also a genius when it comes to sculpting useful things out of ice. But I wasn’t very happy that he was the only one there, because getting him to talk is like getting a Po-Koronan to swim. It takes a lot of coaxing. The conversation went like this:

Me: Hi, Kopeke! How are you?
Kopeke: Hello.
Toa Tahu: Hello, Kopeke. Is Nuju here?
Kopeke: No.
Toa Lewa: Is Kopaka here?
Kopeke: No.
Jala: Are you the only one here?
Kopeke: Yes.
Toa Tahu: Have there been any intruders here recently?
Kopeke: Yes.
Toa Lewa: What did they look-seem like? What did they do?
Kopeke: Bohrok.
Toa Tahu: And?
Kopeke: They took Toa Kopaka’s symbol.

After a lot of one-word answers, we finally got him to start talking in sentences. The story was starting to sound really familiar. This thing that looked like a metallic Nuhvok had approached the suva, which Matoro was guarding. He stepped in front of the Bohrok, but suddenly he cried out that he was too heavy to stand up. He was crushed into the snow under some advanced power of gravity. Then a Kohrak-looking creature took Kopaka’s symbol out of the suva. Then the two Bohrok walked away, joining a third one that looked like a Tahnok who was waiting for them at the edge of the village.

The Kohrak creature then took off one way across the ice, while the other two went the other direction. Kopeke helped Matoro up, and Turaga Nuju came over and declared that these were some kind of enhanced Bohrok. After he went into the Sanctum to consult some prophetic texts, he came back out to talk to the villagers, just in time for everyone to hear a high-pitched noise and then a big boom.

Turaga Nuju grabbed his pickaxe, and he and Matoro and a couple of others headed off in the direction of the sound. The other villagers went to various guard and lookout posts. I was a little surprised to hear this, because I had the impression Turaga Nuju rarely left the Sanctum. He must have had a hunch that something really bad was happening.

While Kopeke was talking, Toa Lewa had finally made sense of the tracks. A recent light snowfall had softened the edges of all but the freshest ones, and there were three sets of clear Bohrok footprints heading out of the village together, toward the north. Toa Lewa’s theory was that the Kohrak-Kal had taken off and caused the big boom, then rejoined the other two, who were perhaps searching for more krana. Now they were all going north, toward Onu-Wahi. He suggested he follow the Kohrak tracks to make sure Toa Kopaka was all right, while the rest of us continued after the Kal. Toa Tahu agreed with Toa Lewa’s explanation, but he didn’t think we should split up. “Nuju will look after Kopaka,” he said. “Besides, these Kal don’t seem to want to really hurt anyone, just take our powers and intimidate us.”

Toa Lewa insisted we should help Toa Kopaka. “What if he’s in trouble? Nuju and the Matoran are brave-hearted, but Ko-Wahi is full of risk-danger. If he’s fallen or something, I could lift-carry him with my Miru.”

“Well, so could Nuju. He has a Matatu.”

Toa Lewa frowned at Toa Tahu. “Just because you and Kopaka had harsh-bitter words--”

Toa Tahu interrupted, “Kopaka and I have our differences. But that’s not why I don’t want to go find him. The best way for us to help him is to get his symbol back.”

Toa Lewa agreed with this, and we set out after the Kal again. But now they outnumbered the Toa. And we had wasted a lot of time in Ko-Koro, figuring out what to do next. If there’s anything worse than being in the dark, it’s being in the dark and cold. “Unless we get down to the tree line again before nightfall, we’re going to get stuck without a fire,” I said to Jala as we trudged through the snow.

Kopeke came running after us. “Here,” he said, handing me a heatstone. “You might need this.”

I thanked him profusely. He looked kind of embarrassed. He bowed to the Toa and nodded quickly to me and Jala, and then he went back into the Sanctum. It was a really kind thing he did for us, because we didn’t make it back below the tree line by nightfall. Traveling across glaciers is really dangerous even in the daytime, and the going got even tougher in the twilight. At one point, I slipped and twisted my ankle, and I was limping badly and falling behind until Toa Tahu picked me up and carried me on his back for a little while. Jala, of course, started speculating that I had done it on purpose, but then he fell down a crevasse, and Toa Lewa had to retrieve him with his Miru. That shut him up.

So now we’re clustered around a heatstone. It’s not as warm as a big roaring campfire, but at least we can share something to eat and get some rest. The Toa are talking about the Kal again while I write. Toa Lewa thinks maybe the Kohrak-Kal’s power is sound, and he asked Toa Tahu if sound could be powerful enough to actually destroy something. Toa Tahu said if it was intense enough, it probably could. It’s just another form of energy.

Oh, wait, now the Toa have decided we should go on. Since they can see in the dark with their Ruru, they are going to keep walking, very carefully, and just carry us. So we’re packing up again, and I’ve got to stop writing. It’s going to be an interesting ride, seeing the world of ice pass by from two bios high in the almost pitch black night. Jala’s saying if I hang on tight to Toa Tahu’s shoulders, maybe I won’t be so scared of the dark. Excuse me while I go smack him.


Summer 1 : 7

Last night we finally stopped at about two hours past midnight, according to Jala. He can tell the time from looking at the sun or the stars, because he needs to estimate things like what time a guard unit can reach a certain place. He picks out certain stars and approximates their angle with the horizon. Then, using the time of year, he figures out the time. Maybe he should be the one who fancies Nixie. But I’m glad he isn’t, because then I’d never stand a chance with her. Not that I probably do, anyway. But at least she seems to like talking to me.

Since I met Nixie, I’ve been looking at the stars a little more closely. They all used to look alike to me, but now I see that there are patterns. Some of them move relative to the others, and Jala tells me those are really planets or comets. I don’t know what the official constellations are, but I see a group that always reminds me of a fish. And there’s another one that looks like a Hau, sort of. If you stare at them long enough, you can see just about anything, like you can with clouds. Say, there’s a cluster that looks a bit like my journal.

Anyway, we stopped and slept for half a night. This morning I was really tired, but I’m sure the Toa are feeling even worse, because they did all the walking over that treacherous ice. I feel especially sorry for Toa Tahu, because he hates the cold. I’m really grateful to them for getting us out of there.

Today we’ve been crossing Onu-Wahi. It’s a really barren, rugged place, with lots of dry canyons and hardened mud cliffs, formed by eons of erosion. It’s actually a bit like walking through Ko-Wahi, except that you can’t freeze to death. Even though I hate tunnels, I can sort of see why the Onu-Koronans decided to put their village underground. With the landscape in their region, they aren’t missing out on much.

Toa Lewa has saved us countless times with his Miru. Every one of us has slipped and fallen into a crack at one point or another and had to be hauled out. There’s just no way to get a foothold in this crumbly earth in some places. If Toa Lewa weren’t here, we wouldn’t be able to cross the bigger, steeper canyons at all. We would just have to follow them uphill until it they were shallow enough to climb out of. From the tracks, it would seem that the Kal just fly over those ravines with their Vu. I suppose the other two are carrying the Kohrak-Kal between them. I don’t think it has a Vu, because the rest of the time they’re just walking. The going is really slow and tedious, and there’s nothing to look at. I almost wish the Kal had taken the tunnels. Almost.

The Kal cut northeast across Onu-Wahi, so we didn’t walk past the entrance to Onu-Koro. Toa Lewa wondered aloud if Toa Onua was all right. Toa Tahu replied, “We would probably have seen Kal tracks coming from or going toward Onu-Koro if he was in danger, so we should assume he’s safe for the time being. And besides, he’ll hear us walking up here and come find us, if he needs us.”

“But if he’s lost his earth-sense, he might not be able to,” Toa Lewa protested. “And there are many tunnel-mouths to Onu-Koro that we probably don’t know about.”

“True,” agreed Toa Tahu. “But we can’t afford to lose time finding out. Those Kal are moving faster than we are, with their ability to fly.”

Toa Lewa frowned at this and was silent. I think he really misses his power of flight. I know I would, if I had ever had it and lost it. One of the nicest things about making friends with the Le-Koronans, besides their fun personalities, was the flutesong Turaga Matau taught me so I could summon the Kewa.

When I first saw Le-Koro, I was really amazed. I couldn’t believe anyone would go to the trouble to haul the stuff to build a village all the way up that huge tree. Then I realized that they had gotten all the materials from the tree itself. In fact, they spend as much time as possible up there. All trees are living creatures, but they talk about that one like it’s a member of the family. And it basically is. They call it Zotoluma, which means ‘life tree’ in the ancient tongue. It gives them shelter, wood, fruit, and safety. In return, they prune dead branches so more light gets through to the living leaves, and they defend it against plant diseases and animal damage. There’s one Matoran whose only job is to take care of it, and whenever he sees a neighboring tree with a fungus or leaf wilt or something, that tree is gone faster than you can say ‘tree-fall.’ Turaga Vakama told me that Toa Lewa and Toa Onua had once saved the big tree from being cut down by the Lehvak’s acid streams. Losing Zotoluma would have been absolutely devastating to the villagers.

Hanging around in Le-Koro really helped me get over my fear of heights. I’d never been all that afraid of being high up, because in Ta-Wahi there are plenty of lava falls, and being the lunatic I am, I love to surf over them. Well, the smaller ones, anyway. I leave the big ones for Toa Tahu to explore. He’s even more nuts than I am, but of course he has the power and technique to back up his boldness. But back to Le-Koro, the big tree was so much higher than anything I was used to that I got really queasy looking over the edge of the platform. Tamaru was the only one who understood that. He’s actually too scared to fly on bird-back. He told me that I should just stop ‘down-looking.’

When I went to Le-Koro during the time of the infected Rahi, and Kongu invited me to ride on the back of his Kahu, I agreed, just because it seemed like the right thing to do. And I’ve never been one to turn down an adventure. If I had known what we were about to do, I probably would have said ‘No, thanks,’ but then I would have missed out on seeing Toa Lewa fight Toa Onua in the hive. That was incredible.

Well, I climbed onto the back of that bird and tested out the disc rack to see how it worked. Kongu whistled a signal to Ka, and off we flew. My stomach felt like it had been turned inside out. Fortunately, I hadn’t eaten in a while. But I soon forgot about that because we were surrounded by hostile insects as big as the Kahu, and I started flinging disks as fast as I could. At first I kept missing, because I wasn’t used to throwing them while I was flying through the air myself. The Nui-Rama were hitting us hard, and Ka took a blow to the wing that made him lose control. We plummeted into the jungle. Just when I was sure we were done for, Kongu yelled at me to grab a vine, and we swung around a big branch and landed on the ground. Fortunately, Ka was all right, and we got back on him and took off again. This time I finally figured out how to hit those bugs. Even though I’ll never be as good a shot as Jala or Hafu, I was holding my own, and Ka only got a couple of scratches on his wings. I got really scared when we got close to the big mud hive, but by then it was too late to get off. Ka flew straight up into the sun and then straight down into the spire. I grabbed onto Kongu and squeezed him so hard he probably had trouble breathing. We skidded to a stop on the floor of the hive. The odor was indescribable in there. And of course it was dark. Did I mention that I hate the dark?

The hive was full of Matoran, including Taipu, who had come with me out of Onu-Koro, only to be snatched away by a Rama. I was so glad to see him again, because he’s a really nice guy and I felt like it was my fault he was captured. I had no idea how we could help him, though. Turaga Matau was down there, too. He was trying to keep everyone’s spirits up. If anyone can cheer you up, it’s Turaga Matau, but he was having a hard time getting his tree-dwelling, fresh-air-loving people to stay encouraged in that dank hole.

So, just as I was wondering if Toa Lewa would come down here to save his Turaga and his villagers, he appeared. But it wasn’t a good thing. I looked up and saw perhaps the most frightening sight I’ve ever seen. It was Toa Lewa, infected. He leaned over and leered at me. I glanced at his axe and figured in a few minutes he would be cleaning what was left of me off of the blade.

As luck would have it, that was the very moment Toa Onua busted out of the floor. The ground shook, dirt flew everywhere, and he stood puffing dust out of his mask and looking around. I think he was the best Toa to fight Toa Lewa in there, because he can see in the dark. That, and he’s really smart. Because it turned out to be his brain that defeated Toa Lewa, even though he’s also really strong, of course.

Well, at first it was looking bad. Toa Lewa jumped up in the air and sprang onto Toa Onua, and they grappled with each other. Toa Lewa is extremely agile, and Makuta had fitted him with a Miru, which he was very adept at using. And Toa Onua just seemed to be going for the infected mask, whereas Toa Lewa had murder in his eyes. He beat Toa Onua up one side and down the other. I was afraid Toa Onua would leave and find someone else to help him, and we would be stuck in here with Toa Lewa again. But Toa Onua isn’t a quitter. When he gets started on something, he doesn’t give up.

And it’s not like Toa Onua was losing the whole time. Once he saw how nasty Toa Lewa was fighting, he started hitting harder. When he did connect with Toa Lewa, the sound made us all cringe. It would have knocked anyone else out instantly. But the insanity brought on by Toa Lewa’s infection seemed to render him almost immune to pain.

I could tell Toa Onua was hurting bad, though. At one point he tried to make an earthquake, but Toa Lewa hit him in the back with his axe just then, and all it did was bring down a big chunk of the hive. We got showered with dirt clods. Toa Lewa kicked him in the back of the head, and I think Toa Onua must have lost consciousness, because he just lay there for a few seconds. I glanced at Turaga Matau, and that’s the only time I’ve ever seen despair on the face of a Turaga. We Matoran were huddled around him, and Taipu was covering his mask in fear. And Taipu’s no coward.

Toa Lewa was about to finish off Toa Onua, but he rolled over and switched to his Hau. That’s ultimately what saved the Toa of Earth. He had all the masks except the Kakama at that point, I learned later. And he used them well. Toa Lewa slammed him into the honeycomb, and one of those lightning bugs landed on his shoulder. Toa Onua changed to his Matatu and hurled it with all his strength. It hit Toa Lewa’s infected mask and knocked it off. Turaga Matau yelled at him to get the Miru, and Toa Onua made it drop from a Nui-Kopen’s claws into Toa Lewa’s hand. When he put it on and the hive was flooded with green light, Kongu and I hugged each other with joy, even though we had just met each other. Then Toa Lewa got control of the Nui-Kopen’s mind with his Komau. He loaded Ka and that giant bug with us Matoran, and we all flew out of the hive.

Seeing Toa Lewa get his golden Kanohi was another amazing sight. As he rose out of the suva, it shone like the sun, sending rays of light and hope all over the jungle. And of course the party afterwards was awesome. Turaga Matau called for the very best foods to be prepared and set out, and the band played well into the night. Taipu stayed for the party, too. After putting up with the dangers of Le-Wahi, he was ready to enjoy some of the pleasures. I heard later that the Le-Koronans taught him to play the drums.

I listened to the music for a little while, but then I left. Even though it was a lot of fun, at the time I felt out of place everywhere. Now that I’ve figured out who I am again, I would stay all night at a party like that. Turaga Matau let me keep the flute I found when I came to the village, and he taught me a song that would call a Kewa whenever I needed one. I sure wish I could call him up now, but he couldn’t carry all of us, and it wouldn’t be fair to the others. For that matter, I sure miss Puku, too. But it would be the same thing. I would feel kind of guilty, riding in comfort while the others trudge through this wasteland on foot. And I wouldn’t want to put her in danger, anyway. Who knows what will happen when we actually catch up with the Kal? If we ever do.

Seeing Toa Lewa now, it’s hard to imagine he ever wanted to hurt his own people. He seems so gentle and funny now. Of course, when he’s facing enemies, I’m sure he can look quite fierce, like he did in the hive. Toa Onua saved him again later on from the bondage of a krana, and now I hear they’re really close because of what they went through together. Toa Lewa seems very thoughtful and quiet tonight. I wonder if he’s worried about his friend. For all we know, Toa Onua could be below us right now. I hope he’s not buried by his own element or something. Now I’m worried, too! But there’s no point in dwelling on the negative. His villagers are perceptive and strong, and they can dig him out better than any of us could.

No campfire tonight, because there’s no wood out here. Fortunately, it’s not cold. I’m so tired I’m starting to see double, so I’m going to sleep now.




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[GaliGee]

Summer 1 : 8

We finally crossed the last part of the Tiro Canyon today. After a really difficult climb, we’ve made it to the top of the ridge between it and the Motara Desert, where we’re camped out right now. We can see Po-Koro from here, and the vast fields to the south where the villagers run their herds of Maha and Mukau. This ridge forms the divide between the great rivers that flow north to the sea and south toward Naho Bay.

Toa Tahu was hoping to be able to see the Kal ahead of us from here. We can see their tracks heading down the far side of the ridge toward the desert, but they disappear behind some dunes. Unfortunately, even when Toa Lewa used his Miru to raise himself as high as he could, he couldn’t see our targets. “They must be hide-lurking behind some sand-hills or something,” he said.

“I hope we find Pohatu out here somewhere, because we could sure use his Kakama,” remarked Toa Tahu.

“Are you sure that would be smart-wise? They might ambush us with some trick-trap,” Toa Lewa pointed out.

“Maybe,” replied Toa Tahu. “But staying this far behind them just gives them a chance to steal the symbols from everyone else.”

Toa Lewa nodded. “You’re right, fire-brother. Should we go to the village, and ask where he is?”

“No, that will just cost us more time. And as fast as he moves, he might be gone by the time we get there, anyway. Let’s just keep watching for him.”

In any case, we were too tired to continue much farther, so we decided to stay here, where we can see for mios in every direction. If either Toa Pohatu or the Kal approach, we’ll have plenty of warning.

The two Toa volunteered to split the watch for the entire night since they both have Ruru, so Jala and I are getting a lucky break. And it’s a good thing, because my legs are so tired I can barely stand up. But I’m awake enough to write, and to talk with Jala. We’ve been conversing really quietly while Toa Tahu sits on a lone rock outcrop a few dozen bios away, and Toa Lewa sleeps at its base.

Jala is kind of worried. He’s not the kind of fellow that usually lets himself get down, either. So, I figured something must really be bothering him, for him even to mention it. He said that over time, he’s really seen morale decline among the Guard.

Now, Jala’s been Captain of the Guard for as long as I can remember. Of course, that doesn’t mean much, since I had that head injury after I found the Toa stones. But he’s been Captain almost as long as he can remember, too. That’s some time after the Turaga say the Great Spirit Mata Nui brought us all to this island, and we named it after him because of his generous goodness and absolute power over our world.

But it turned out that Mata Nui didn’t have absolute power over our world after all. The Turaga tell us he was deceived by his evil brother, Makuta, and cast into a deep sleep. Then Makuta became angry at us, because we wouldn’t worship him instead. He erased our memories and unleashed hundreds of infected Rahi on us. That’s when Jala became Captain of the Guard. He was working on the lava farm until the attacks began and Turaga Vakama called him to accept the duty. Maybe he was Captain before our memories were erased. No one knows, except maybe Turaga Vakama. He has said some things that make me wonder if the Turaga remember the time before that. But he won’t answer any questions about that. He just says that someday, light will reveal all.

Anyway, the days of fighting the Rahi were pretty exciting. Jala said that before the Toa stones turned up, it was more of a game, since the attacks were infrequent and victory all but assured. It was as if Makuta were just teasing them. But by the time my memories start filling things in, the fighting was getting more intense. As I randomly toured the villages, running into Matoran with problems I happened to be able to help them with, the mood was getting more desperate. When I first met Jala, he asked me to join the Guard. That’s how frantically he was scraping the bottom of the barrel for troops.

Everyone was working really hard back then, either serving as soldiers or working double shifts on the lava farm to make up for those who were defending the villages. Of course, I didn’t really have a duty, because I was wandering at the time. Well, I suppose if I had stuck around Ta-Koro, I would have had one. Turaga Vakama isn’t much for idle hands in the village. But Turaga Nokama says I was actually fulfilling my destiny as the Chronicler all that time, even though I didn’t know it. I think that’s why Turaga Vakama finally stopped hassling me about it. And ultimately, I did get a real job, anyway. I had finally told Jala I would join the guard, basically just so I could ride the cable car to Ko-Koro. So after the defeat of Makuta, Jala assigned me to be the official Guard reporter, and that seemed to make Turaga Vakama happy.

Anyway, to get back to what Jala was saying, he said that the Toa arrived just in time to keep us from getting really discouraged with our existence of hardship and fear. He was watching the spirits of the Matoran fall, because it seemed like the struggles would never end. The Turaga cited prophecies of hope, but they couldn’t tell us when anything would happen. Everyone was walking around grim-faced, and then these big heroes just plummeted out of the sky and washed up onto the beach. Even when Rahi attacks tripled in fury, we felt safer somehow in the care of our mighty protectors.

The defeat of Makuta brought joy the likes of which we had never felt before. But it didn’t last, of course. By the evening of the following day, the Toa were fending off a Bohrok attack on Ta-Koro, and the grim days of vigilance and privation were back. All during the days of the Bohrok, Jala said, he struggled to keep up the morale of the troops. We got bad news from almost every village, from the besieged Po-Koro to the flooded Onu-Koro. Then the Toa saved the day again, defeating the Bahrag and freeing us from the plague of their minions. And the people knew joy once more.

We saw a pattern, of course. Toa have always been strong enough to take on the underlings of evil. But our heroes have always had to leave us to defend ourselves for a time, in order to confront the mastermind who has sent them. Then, once they defeat him or them, without direction those servants become harmless.

But this time is different. The servants are robbing our heroes of the very means they use to defend us. And they have powers that seem insurmountable. Jala is worried that the members of the Guard are losing their morale, and he’s not there to do anything about it. “A unifying spirit is essential for a successful army,” he said. “Even if the battles are brutal, and the conditions are harsh, the soldiers will fight to the end if they are rallying for a cause. But when they feel total despair, it’s hard to get them to do anything.”

“Do you really think there’s anything they can be doing at this point?” I asked.

“Maybe not,” Jala shrugged. “But if there are more of these creatures, waiting for the Toa to leave their villages in pursuit of the symbols…”

“That could be really disastrous,” I agreed. “But wouldn’t we have heard from someone by now, if that were the case? The Le-Koronans would probably have flown after their Toa on bird-back.”

“Possibly. I’m trying to reassure myself with the fact that the Turaga only spoke of six of these Kal, too.”

“Well, there you go,” I smiled. “The Turaga would have known if there were swarms of them, just like they knew about the regular Bohrok.” I refrained from pointing out that the Turaga never actually told us about the Bohrok until after they attacked.

Jala was still twisting his blanket nervously. I don’t particularly like thinking about these dark possibilities, either, but that’s why I just put them out of my mind and think about other things. So I tried to distract him. Pretty soon we were laughing about the way we met, when he offered me a job in the Guard. He thought I was an irresponsible rebel, with my ratty backpack and informal speech, and I thought he was a stuffy conformist, with his stiff posture and crisp salute. Actually, we still feel that way about each other, but we wouldn’t have our friendship any other way.


Summer 1 : 9

Well, lots of exciting things happened today. The first was right at sunrise, when Toa Lewa was on watch. He woke us to tell us that a Kahu was approaching from the southwest. There aren’t any wild Kahu in the desert, so he was sure it was a messenger from Le-Wahi.

He was right. As the bird got larger, we could see a Matoran riding it. With great flapping and a cloud of flying sand, Kongu and Ka skidded to a stop next to our lookout rock.

Kongu jumped off, and Toa Lewa gave him a pat on the back. “What news do you bring from our treebright village, little highflyer?” he asked.

“None whatsoever, great Toa,” replied Kongu. “I came to see if you had found the power-thief yet.”

“Nope,” shrugged Toa Tahu dejectedly. “They walk slower than we do, and they wander around looking for krana. But they travel all night, so they’re still ahead of us.”

“But it’s wonderful news that Le-Koro is safe,” added Jala.

I smiled at Kongu. “Yeah, you’ve just taken a load of the old Captain’s worried mind.” Jala jabbed me with his elbow.

Toa Lewa asked Kongu to fly him over the Kal tracks, so he could see where they were leading. The Kahu took off again, with both green beings on his back, and returned a few minutes later.

“Yes, they’re up ahead, not more than a few hundred bios away,” said Toa Lewa excitedly. “Their foot-tracks are going in wander-circles, so they must have found more krana.”

“Well, let’s get going, then,” suggested Toa Tahu. “Thank you, Kongu.”

“You’re welcome, brave-heart Toa,” he replied, climbing back onto his bird. “I must straight-fly to my village, to tell them you are safe, and in near-catch pursuit. May Mata Nui protect you.” He whistled to Ka, and off they flew.

With new enthusiasm, Toa Tahu led us across the sand. As the sun rose, the temperature did, too. Of course, we fire villagers didn’t mind. Toa Lewa grumbled a little, but he forgot about it when we spotted a new set of Bohrok footprints coming from the direction of Po-Koro. “Wherever he is, our fleet-foot friend is probably powerless now, too,” he said, worried.

As we walked over a ridge, we heard the sound of Maha in the distance. And then we saw something that stopped us in our tracks.

At first I couldn’t tell what it was—a monstrous Maha Kaita or something. It wiggled its many legs, bleating loudly. Then I noticed Toa Pohatu’s mask in the middle of it. He saw us and called out, “Little help?”

Jala and I ran up to the ‘creature.’ We tugged on a couple of the goats. Mine finally came loose, but then it stuck to my arm.

Toa Tahu said it was magnetism, and that it would wear off. Toa Lewa was just doing all he could not to laugh out loud. Toa Tahu explained to Toa Pohatu that we were after the Bohrok-Kal and asked if he would join us.

“You know it!” replied the Toa of Stone eagerly. “It’s been too long since we went on an adventure, anyway.” Now, there’s a Toa I can definitely relate to. But he asked me to leave out the part about the goats when I write it up on the Wall of History.

So it would seem that the newest addition to the Bohrok party had the power of magnetism. From Toa Pohatu’s description of the creature, it was a Gahlok-Kal. Toa Tahu said, “Pohatu, let’s use your Kakama to catch up with them. We can’t let them get the other two symbols. Onua and Gali may still have their powers at this point.”

“I don’t know, Tahu,” replied Pohatu slowly. “It’s tempting, but it may not be a good idea to challenge them until we have the other Toa with us. Remember how Gali had a bad feeling about us splitting up? We should learn from our mistake. Besides, at this point, they outnumber us, and they obviously out-power us, too.”

Toa Tahu frowned. “Gali is too sentimental. Time is on their side, Pohatu! We have to act before it’s too late!”

“Wait,” said Toa Lewa. “What if we used the Kakama to speed-run to the Kini-Nui? The others may be waiting for us there.”

“Yes, but if they are, they’re surely powerless, too, or they wouldn’t be looking for us,” grumbled Toa Tahu.

“True, but it’s worth checking,” shrugged Toa Pohatu. He turned toward me and Jala. “You guys are going to love this.”

Toa Tahu crossed his arms. “All right,” he said grudgingly. “But then we’d better get right back on the trail.”

We stood facing the Kini-Nui. Toa Pohatu powered up his Kakama, and we started running. I can’t begin to describe how it felt to race the wind, and win! I glanced over at Jala, and his short legs were moving so fast they were a yellow blur. The Toa, of course, were used to doing this, and they focused solemnly on what was ahead, except that Toa Pohatu turned his head to grin at us once in a while. Probably the most amazing thing for me was how far I could see ahead, and how well I could hear. I think that sensory enhancement is built into the mask, so the wearer won’t just crash into things or get lost. At one point we approached a big rocky cliff. I cringed and slowed down, but Toa Pohatu shouted, “It’s all right, come on!” and just led us right through it. I expected to feel it slam into my chest, but I didn’t feel anything at all.

We arrived at the temple, breathless and smiling. Well, Jala and I were smiling, anyway. That was the most incredible thing we had ever done. I don’t know how the Toa keep their minds on their work, with all the fun things they get to do.

And there was Toa Onua, waiting for us. “Hello, all,” he said, slapping Toa Lewa on the back. “Reduced to mere walking, brother?”

Toa Lewa grabbed him in a headlock, but Toa Onua twisted free. Toa Pohatu gave him a fist-clank and said, “You think what happened to Lewa is humiliating? Wait until you hear my story!”

After some kidding around, Toa Onua explained that his symbol had been taken by a green metallic Bohrok with the power of vacuum, evidently the Lehvak-Kal. So the only one we didn’t know about yet was the Pahrak-Kal. The villagers had been propelled across the cavern when all the air was suddenly sucked out of it, and they were unable to breathe for a moment. Then the creature just walked in and took the symbol from the suva.

Toa Onua had been digging a tunnel somewhere, as usual. Suddenly the ceiling, which he had been temporarily holding up with his earth powers, collapsed on him. With his Pakari, he managed to dig himself out, but it was a long, arduous task, and he said that he felt like he was suffocating the whole time. I’m sure it was intensely unpleasant, if not downright terrifying. It certainly would have been for me, anyway.

“At this point the only Toa who might still have powers is Gali,” remarked Toa Tahu. “We passed through Ko-Koro, and Kopaka has lost his, but we didn’t see him.”

Toa Onua got very thoughtful all of a sudden. “You know, it seemed like a limitless blessing, to be transformed into Toa Nuva. But now we know that we have a new vulnerability. Our powers are shackled to these symbols, and without them, we are a mere fraction of what we used to be.”

“Should we go back to the trail of the Kal, or should we go to Ga-Koro and try to defend Gali’s symbol?” wondered Toa Pohatu.

“Gali’s water powers will be trivial compared to the Kal’s, anyway,” remarked Toa Tahu. “I say we go back and attack the Kal right away. There are as many of us now as there are of them.”

Toa Onua disagreed. “But they might be going to Ga-Koro, anyway. And besides, we need to find Gali and Kopaka. We’re going to need all the mask powers we’ve got, and all our wisdom and strength, before we take on these creatures. I’m guessing the best way to defeat them will be to remove their krana, if they’re anything like regular Bohrok.”

“What use are a Kaukau and an Akaku going to be to us?” scowled Toa Tahu.

“But Tahu,” said Toa Lewa, “there are two more Kal creep-lurking around, possibly together, one carry-hauling Onua’s symbol. If we sneak-attack them before they get to Ga-Koro, maybe the four of us can overpower one or two of them at a time.”

“But where will we start looking? I say we go after the ones we know about. Besides, once we get four of the symbols back, the other two will be easy.” Toa Tahu seemed very determined to get back to the desert. So finally the others agreed with him, and off we ran to the dunes of the Motara, where we had last seen the Kal.

We got back to the trail where Toa Pohatu had been stuck to the Maha. We cautiously followed the path, using the Kakama in short bursts to go only as far as we could clearly see ahead of us. But we ran into a problem we didn’t expect. The Kal had wandered back toward Onu-Wahi and disappeared into a network of tunnels.

“I’m a little bit familiar with these tunnels,” commented Toa Onua.

“Wonderful,” said Toa Tahu impatiently. “Then lead the way.”

Toa Onua shook his head. “They’re really complex, Tahu. And without my earth powers, I won’t be able to feel vibrations telling us which way the Kal have gone. We could get hopelessly lost in there.”

“So we’ll just follow their tracks,” reasoned Toa Tahu.

“Too hard to see, even with a Ruru. The floor is very compact,” said Toa Onua. “What we really need is an Akaku. Then we could see them through the earth, and follow the heat signature of their tracks.”

I was relieved we weren’t going in those tunnels, to tell the truth. But Toa Tahu groaned. “Great. So now we need Kopaka. Just great.”

“Onua, do these tunnels daylight anywhere else around this ditch-land?” asked Toa Lewa.

“Yes, there are openings all over the place.” Toa Onua gestured at the earthen cliffs, gullies, and rocky outcrops all around. The sun was going down, and the dull brown landscape had begun to glow orange in its last blaze of light.

“I propose,” said Toa Pohatu, “that we camp here for the night. In the morning, I’ll go look for Kopaka, while the rest of you keep an eye out for the Kal, in case they surface again somewhere else.”

So that’s where we are now. As much adventure as we’ve had in one day, I’m really tired. I’ve written what happened in my journal, but for once, I don’t feel like rambling about anything else!



Summer 1 : 10

Another exciting day! I’ll try to get it all down…

It was no surprise that Toa Tahu was the first one to get up this morning. He woke the rest of us. Toa Onua was on watch, and he reported no sign of the Kal. He put his head to the ground to listen one last time before Toa Pohatu set off to look for Toa Kopaka. I could tell Toa Onua was kind of sad that he had to rely on ordinary hearing instead of sensing the pulse of his beloved earth.

After Toa Pohatu sped off, Toa Onua suggested we split up and take positions on some of the bluffs. That way we could see farther, but we could still signal each other if one of us spotted the Kal popping up out of the tunnels. Toa Lewa lifted Jala and me to the top of a big cliff with his Miru, where we sat together while he helped Toa Onua and Toa Tahu to two other lookout posts before taking a position himself. From our cliff, Jala and I could see the fields to the southeast. The Po-Koronan herdsmen and their livestock looked like tiny dark dots on the green plain.

While we sat, we watched the beautiful sunrise and talked about the strange things that had happened on the trip so far. And we wondered what the girls were doing in Ga-Koro at that moment. Jala figured that Hahli was probably gathering harakeke or sitting with Amaya making flax. Sometimes she went fishing early in the morning, since the Ruki often swam up into the marshes of the Hura-Mafa River delta to feed at that time. She told Jala that she spent as much time repairing the nets as she did fishing for those sharp-toothed creatures. As for Nixie, I imagined that she was either reporting her nightly findings to Turaga Nokama, or maybe taking a nap by now. It’s funny that as much as I like the light and hate the dark, my favorite girl is semi-nocturnal.

At this moment I saw a brilliant flash of light, and then I saw a scene on the beaches of Ga-Wahi. Toa Gali stood on a big hill with her back to me, and an enormous wave was surging up from the sea. She raised her axes, apparently to send it back into the ocean, but nothing happened. I watched her stagger backwards in disbelief as the huge wall of water crashed over her. When it receded into the bay again, Toa Gali was gone.

I came to, and Jala was shaking me. “Takua! Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yeah, but I don’t think Toa Gali is,” I replied. I told him what I had seen.

“You’re still getting those visions? Toa Gali must be in trouble!” Jala jumped up and started yelling and waving his arms at Toa Lewa, who was the closest to us. Toa Lewa immediately called to Toa Tahu at the next post, leaped off the cliff, and ran as fast as he could toward ours. He levitated to the top. “What is it?” he panted. “Did you see the power-bugs come up?”

“No,” I replied, “but I just had a vision of Gali being washed away by a giant wave!”

“She must have lost her water-force!” cried Toa Lewa. “Quick-speed, let’s go get the others.” He flung us off the cliff and jumped after us. Just as I was sure we would break our legs on the packed earth fifty bios below, I felt the tug of the Miru slowing us down. We still landed pretty hard. I guess Toa Lewa can control the amount of lift, and he was in a big hurry.

We ran to Toa Tahu’s lookout post. He was stabbing his swords into the face of the cliff one at a time, and he was about halfway to the ground. It looked really dangerous, because of the crumbly earth. Toa Lewa yelled, “Jump!” and helped him float down to the dirt next to us.

“Takua just had a mind-vision of Toa Gali being wash-carried away by a giant wave,” explained Toa Lewa.

Toa Tahu looked really upset. “We must go help her!” he said urgently. “But… the Kal…”

Toa Onua had half-slid and half-rolled into the ravine when he heard the commotion, and he came running up to us, all dusty and breathless. “And Pohatu won’t know where we went,” he added, putting his tracks back on his back.

“Maybe one of us should wait-stay for him,” proposed Toa Lewa.

“No need, brothers,” replied Toa Pohatu, who had materialized behind him as he spoke. “I just came from Ko-Koro. Nuju saved Kopaka, who was hanging by his ice blades from the face of a crevasse. He says Kopaka checked in at the village, heard that you guys had passed through following the Kal, and ran to the Kini-Nui. Nuju said if Kopaka didn’t find us there, he was planning to go to Ga-Koro.”

“Why would he go there?” frowned Toa Tahu.

Toa Onua shrugged. “No time to speculate. He must be on his way, though. Pohatu, did you get here in time to hear about Takua’s vision?”

“I heard Lewa talking about it as I ran over here,” nodded the Toa of Stone. “The Kakama really improves my long-range hearing.”

“All right, now that we have you back, Pohatu,” said Toa Tahu, “we need to go find Gali. And Kopaka. Then we’ll get back on the trail of the Kal, using the Akaku.”

Everyone agreed this was a good plan, and off we ran for Ga-Wahi. As we flew along, Toa Pohatu asked me where I had seen Toa Gali in the vision. I admitted that I didn’t really know. It was a really steep, tall hill, right next to the ocean, with jungle on either side. From my travels, I remembered an area like that north of the Hura-Mafa delta. Toa Onua said that if she was practicing making big waves, it would make sense that she would do it away from the village. He worried that since she had not been able to stop the wave, the edge of it might have hit the village.

Jala gave me an anxious look. But Toa Lewa tried to reassure us. “Let’s not worry-fret about that until we get there,” he said. “One disaster at a time is sorry-bad enough!”

Toa Tahu didn’t say anything. He just looked really grim.

We reached the area I remembered and slowed down. Toa Lewa levitated himself into a tree and looked around. “I see a hill-peak a bit like the one you described, Chronicler,” he called down. He dropped to the ground and pointed to the northeast. We ran again, but when we got to the hill, it wasn’t the same one.

We looked at four or five more places before we found the right one. I gasped as I recognized the hill, exactly as it was in my vision. Past it was the vast sea, still rocking from the wave. There was no sign of Toa Gali. But down on the beach, Toa Lewa spotted Toa Kopaka.

We ran over to him. He was sitting on a rock, dripping wet. “Where’s Gali?” asked Toa Tahu, without any sort of greeting.

Toa Kopaka stood up and pointed along the beach. We could just see two blue figures standing together on the sand, one tall and one short. “She’s speaking with Nokama.”

The Toa of Fire studied the Toa of Ice. “So, what are you doing here, Kopaka?”

“I came to see if I could prevent Gali’s symbol from being stolen, but I was too late,” came the cool reply.

“Then why aren’t you in Ga-Koro, where her suva is? And why are you all wet? Did you get hit by her wave?” continued Toa Tahu.

Toa Kopaka gave Toa Tahu a withering look. Toa Tahu frowned. Toa Pohatu and Toa Onua looked at each other quizzically. Toa Lewa laughed. “I’m sure there’s a good story-tale here,” he said, winking at me.

Toa Kopaka seemed to realize that the others wouldn’t give him any peace until he explained, so finally he did. “Kopeke said Tahu and Lewa had come through Ko-Koro, tracking some enhanced Bohrok who had stolen their Nuva symbols. I guessed that the other Kal would be after the other symbols.”

“So you headed for Ga-Koro,” said Toa Pohatu.

“Who wouldn’t?” I muttered under my breath. Jala prodded me with his foot.

“Gali seemed to be the most vulnerable,” shrugged Toa Kopaka. “Her element extends for countless thousands of mios around the island in every direction. But her symbol was already gone when I got there, and the villagers told me she was here.”

“So you jump-dove in to save her from the great-wave,” inferred Toa Lewa.

“Not exactly,” replied Toa Kopaka. “I saw the wave from afar with my Akaku, but Gali was already coming out of the water when I got to the beach. Nokama was there to meet her, and they swam back out together. Nokama left Gali in an underwater cave, and when I saw what was inside, I jumped in the water. But she didn’t need my help, after all.”

“So what are we waiting for?” asked Toa Tahu. “Let’s go get her, and return to our quest for the Kal!” He jumped up and began to walk rapidly along the beach.

“Wait, Tahu,” called Toa Kopaka.

Toa Tahu spun in his tracks, his hands on his hips. “Why?” he asked with irritation.

“Let Nokama finish talking,” replied the Toa of Ice.

Toa Pohatu laughed. “It’s a Turaga teaching moment.”

“Yeah,” added Toa Onua. “My Turaga hauls me off for one of those every now and then.”

Toa Tahu muttered, “We don’t have time for Turaga tales!” But he walked over to a boulder and sat down.

Soon Turaga Nokama parted ways with Toa Gali and walked away along the beach, presumably toward Ga-Koro. Toa Gali glanced around and saw us. She vanished in a blue blur and reappeared next to Toa Onua.

“Gali! You have your Kakama!” exclaimed Toa Pohatu.

“Yes,” Toa Gali replied. “Nokama led me to it. She put me through a little test first, though. Have the rest of you lost your powers as well?”

The other Toa nodded grimly.

“You’re all wet, Kopaka!” said Toa Gali, apparently just noticing the water dripping off him. “Were you coming to help me?”

Toa Kopaka looked at his feet. “Only if you needed it,” he said quietly. “That monster was huge!”

“What monster?” asked Toa Tahu.

“I’m grateful for the kind thought, Kopaka,” said Toa Gali gently. “But by the grace of Mata Nui, my Kaukau still works. And the Kakama is simply amazing now.”

“As is the Akaku,” added Toa Kopaka. “The ranging readout showed that wave took you over five hundred bios out to sea.”

Toa Gali’s eyes widened. “That far?” She gazed sadly at the vast ocean before us. “Oh, without my water powers, the sea seems so dangerous now!”

Toa Tahu cleared his throat. “Well, now that we’re all safe, it’s time to do something about these vile creatures that have stolen our powers. Pohatu, will you take us back to Onu-Wahi?”

I was surprised to hear Jala speak up. He suggested we check on Ga-Koro. But Toa Gali patted his shoulder reassuringly and said Nokama had told her it was fine. Jala seemed very relieved.

Toa Pohatu grinned. “Unlike some of us, they don’t mind getting a little wet.”

Toa Tahu and Toa Kopaka were glaring at each other. Toa Onua rolled his eyes. “I was hoping you two had gotten over your differences.”

“Let’s just be joy-glad we all survived getting fall-dropped and heavy-buried,” nodded Toa Lewa.

“Good point, Lewa,” sighed Toa Tahu. “Let’s fill Gali and Kopaka in on what we’ve learned about the Kal.” He explained the powers of each Kal and how we had tracked them into the tunnel system. Toa Lewa interrupted from time to time to add interesting details. Finally, Toa Tahu concluded with a wry smile, “So, as much as I hate to admit it, we really need you now, Kopaka.”

Toa Kopaka thanked Toa Tahu. “It’s always good to know as much as we can about the enemy.”

Toa Gali added, “It looks like the Pahrak-Kal has the power of plasma. The villagers told Nokama that it’s heading northwest.”

“It’s on its way to find-join the others, I’m certain-sure,” said Toa Lewa. “Those creatures like to work together.” He flinched, perhaps at the memory of the strange communications he must have received while wearing the krana.

“If those hideous things can show unity, so can we,” said Toa Tahu, his jaw set with solemn determination.

Toa Gali crossed her arms. “I can’t believe I’m hearing that from you, Tahu. After splitting us up the way you did, with your petty--”

“Better late than never,” commented Toa Pohatu. “Let’s let the Pahrak-Kal lead us to the others.”

We ran back to the village and found the Kal’s tracks. Probably the Lehvak-Kal had already joined up with the others, since it had just been in Onu-Koro. We followed the footprints, using the Kakama in short bursts as we had before. They led us to Onu-Wahi, where eventually they disappeared into a tunnel. The Toa decided it would be unwise to use the Kakama down there, so we would have to follow them at walking speed. It was already getting dark by this time. We camped out for the night, certain that in the morning we would find these creatures and confront them. I’m not sure if that’s going to be a good thing or not.




If you would like to post comments, please do so in my GaliGee's Stories topic.

[GaliGee]

Summer 1 : 11

This morning we gathered our courage and headed into those awful tunnels. Toa Onua led the way, with Toa Kopaka right behind him, sharing his Akaku. Jala and I were next to last, with Toa Pohatu following us in case something attacked from behind.

Well, I can’t even begin to describe how strange it is to see with an Akaku. At first I was really confused by all the weird colors and abundance of information. The other Toa were used to using an Akaku, but not an Akaku Nuva, so they asked Toa Kopaka some questions as we started out, and after he answered, I began to figure out what we were seeing. There were numerical readouts all around, showing things like range and temperature and density. We were actually looking through the earth, so we could see the tunnels ahead in spite of bends, rocks, and so on. The depth adjustment was up to Toa Kopaka, and Toa Tahu kept telling him what to focus on. But Toa Onua asked Toa Tahu to hush so he could listen for the sounds coming through the earth.

The Akaku was so sensitive to variations of density that we could see the Bohrok-Kal’s footprints on the floor of the tunnel, even though the earth was packed down pretty hard. It was obvious there were a lot of them, probably all six. Every now and then Toa Kopaka would gesture at the wall where a Kal had scraped against it and left a mark. At one point we began to see a brightly colored ring-shaped object way up ahead. As we approached, we discovered that it was a huge boulder with a big hole melted through it. Evidently the Kal had made a shortcut for themselves. The stone was still warm to the touch as we passed through it.

I had no idea what was driving the Kal to take this particular path, and I don’t think the Toa did, either. Now that they had all the Toa’s symbols, we didn’t know what their goal was, aside from collecting krana. We just followed the tracks. There was a hole chipped out of the side of the tunnel in one place. Maybe they had found a krana there.

Then we heard a strange sound up ahead. It was high- and low-pitched at the same time. The earth rumbled under our feet, and our ears rang with the intense whine. Then there was an explosion, and it stopped. Toa Onua motioned for us to hurry. A few minutes later, the Akaku revealed that the Kal had blasted open a path to the surface. Rubble had partially caved it in again, but we scrambled through it up to daylight. I was grateful to be out of those ghastly underground passageways, even though I was pretty scared of what lay ahead.

We stood there, blinking in the bright light, until Toa Kopaka found the tracks in the dirt. Quickly, we resumed the trail. Toa Onua offered to carry me on his shoulders, and I was happy to accept. Toa Pohatu noticed us and gave Jala a ride, too. We were tired, dusty, and frightened, and it was nice to take care of at least one of those problems.

The Toa were talking about the theft of the symbols and how they were probably tied to their loss of powers. Toa Gali asked what they would do if we found the Kal, and Toa Tahu answered that it was not a matter of ‘if’ but ‘when’ and assured her they would get their powers back. We crested a ridge, and Toa Pohatu said, “Uh, Tahu? I think those things up ahead might have something to say about it.” Toa Kopaka had apparently already seen them, because he put his hand on Toa Onua’s arm to stop him.

Toa Pohatu undoubtedly meant ‘say’ in the figurative sense, I’m sure, because everyone was surprised when the Kal turned around and called to us across the expanse of desert. “We are the Bohrok-Kal. We search for Cahdok and Gahdok, queens of the swarms,” said the Nuhvok-Kal. Its voice was cold and metallic, without inflection or emotion.

Toa Onua and Toa Pohatu put Jala and me down and motioned for us to retreat behind the ridge. We complied right away, peeking over a rock to see what was happening.

The Pahrak-Kal continued. “Tell us where you have hidden the Bahrag, and then stand aside. We have no wish to harm helpless foes.”

Jala and I looked at each other. So that’s what they were after! They were actually getting closer when they were in the tunnels, but perhaps their quest for krana had distracted them.

Well, Toa Lewa’s never one to stand aside when challenged. He sprang forward, rapidly closing the gap between him and the Kal, with the other Toa running behind him. Toa Lewa yelled, “Helpless? Toa Nuva are never helpless! We’ll run you into the ground!” He swung his katana at the Gahlok-Kal’s head plate to knock out its krana, but it backed up and raised its hand shields, and suddenly his feet stuck to the ground.

“No amount of speed can save you from my magnetic force,” retorted the Gahlok-Kal. Toa Lewa struggled to lift his feet, but he couldn’t move. Now, I would never have thought that was possible, except for something that Taipu once told me about protodermis. He said there was protodermis in everything, even the rocks and dirt. It just wasn’t in a form that was useful to anyone, so that’s why they had to mine deep in the earth for big veins of it, in purer form. Taipu’s really smart sometimes for such a simple guy. So, if the Gahlok-Kal can magnetically hold a creature to the dirt, it must have great power indeed.

Meanwhile, Toa Onua was not going to let his friend take the brunt of the attack alone. He lifted an immense boulder over his head. “The Toa Nuva do not seek conflict. But if we must battle, I shall end it quickly!” Just as he prepared to hurl it at the Kal, the Pahrak-Kal hit it with a plasma blast. The rock melted and vaporized instantly. That’s right, I said vaporized. I’ve seen Toa Tahu melt rock before, but it’s always turned into liquid. I’ve never seen anything turn stone into a gas. Needless to say, Toa Onua dove out from under the boiling mass and rolled away, clutching his hands to his chest. Toa Gali glanced at him sadly. I’m sure she wished she could take away the burn with her cool, soothing waters.

Toa Tahu immediately activated his Hau Nuva. If the Toa couldn’t effectively attack the Kal, at least he could provide defense. Then he tried to reason with the creatures. “Bohrok-Kal, your quest must fail. The creatures you seek have vanished from Mata Nui.”

As far as we knew, that was true. Bound in their protodermis prison, the Bahrag had been crushed by hundreds of bios of solid rock when their lair collapsed. Everyone figured they were probably shards of flattened metal at this point.

But the Kal were not easily dissuaded. “You lie!” said the Nuhvok-Kal, the higher pitch of its voice showing anger. “They are here, and we will find them.” Then it calmed down again as it raised its hand shields. “Your shield cannot stand before the crushing power of gravity, Tahu Nuva.”

Instantly, Toa Tahu was thrown face first to the ground, hitting the earth with a sickening thud. Toa Gali cried, “Tahu!” and Toa Onua warned everyone to defend themselves. The Kal, in their metallic monotones, informed the Toa of the futility of self-defense. Jala and I ducked behind the rock as we heard the incredible clamor of their combined blasts. There were howling, roaring, exploding, and crashing sounds. When the noise stopped, we peeked over the boulder to see what was left of our heroes.

The Kal were trotting away over the next ridge. As they disappeared from sight, we ran to the Toa. They were strewn about like branches after a hurricane. The ground was covered with craters, gouges, and, scorch marks. Jala crouched down next to Toa Tahu and listened for a heartbeat. “He’s alive!” he cried. “Check the others!”

We went from one Toa to another, and all of them were breathing. He turned Toa Tahu’s head a little so his mask wasn’t stuck in the dirt anymore, and I moved Toa Kopaka’s ice blade, which was poking Toa Gali in the ribs. Jala and I hugged each other with relief. “But will they be all right?” I wondered.

“They have to be,” said Jala quickly. “The great Mata Nui couldn’t have allowed our heroes to be destroyed, all at once, to leave us defenseless.”

I wasn’t so sure about that. Mata Nui was asleep, after all. But I didn’t want to crush Jala’s shred of optimism. I could tell if he didn’t have that, he would be overwhelmed by despair. I was on the verge of it, myself.

I looked at the Toa, with their gray Kanohi and their powerless weapons, clutched in their insensible hands. This was the worst I had ever felt. Even when I watched the Toa being battered by Makuta, when he turned into that horrible thing with all the tentacles, I didn’t feel this bad. At least they were conscious then.

Jala and I sat down together to wait, since it seemed like there was nothing we could do for them. “Do you suppose the Bahrag really are still alive?” I finally asked, breaking the gloomy silence.

Jala shook his head. “I have no idea. It sounded like they were smashed, but you never know. That protodermis prison that kept them from killing the Toa may also have protected them when the lair collapsed.”

That idea had never occurred to me, but it made sense. “What an ironic twist that would be, if it’s true,” I remarked.

“Yeah. You know, this reminds me of when I kept watch over the Toa after they defeated Makuta. They were all sleeping in the field next to the Kini-Nui. But that time, they were resting peacefully after winning the fight. This time…” He stopped, his voice tight with emotion.

We sat quietly for a while. Then Jala got up and checked on the Toa again. He shook Toa Tahu gently, but there was no response. Then he came and sat with me again.

“Hey, Jala, how about a game of Juma-Juvo?” I asked.

Jala gave me a funny look, but then he shrugged. “Why not?”

I took a rock and scratched out a grid in the dirt. Jala gathered some stones and set them on the ‘board.’ “I’ll be the dark stones, and you can be the light ones,” he suggested.

I made the first move. I expected Jala to beat me, because he’s the king of strategy. He had just cornered my last few pieces when we heard someone stirring. We jumped up.

Toa Lewa was the first to sit up. “Ohhh… what happened?” he moaned.

Toa Onua raised his mask off the ground. “I believe we have just been given a warning by the Bohrok-Kal.” We ran joyfully over to the two Toa and helped them up.

Toa Tahu rolled over onto his back and closed his eyes again. Toa Gali sat up, rubbed the back of her head as she looked around, then crawled over to him and helped him sit up.

“They obviously do not want us interfering with their search,” said Toa Onua.

“No? Well, the Bohrok-Kal will pay for daring to challenge the Toa Nuva,” growled Toa Tahu.

Toa Kopaka staggered to his feet. Toa Onua was helping Toa Pohatu to stand, and he was leaning heavily on his strong friend.

“We shall--” Toa Tahu began.

But Toa Gali interrupted. “Tahu! This is no time to worry about our pride! Didn’t you hear them? If they find Cahdok and Gahdok and free them… the Bohrok swarms will strike again!”

After some talk wavering between pessimism and defiance, Toa Tahu announced the plan. “Gali, you, Pohatu, and Onua go back to the Bohrok nest, and see if you can discover what happened to Cahdok and Gahdok. Kopaka, Lewa, and I will keep after the Bohrok-Kal, and see if we can slow them down.”

“Great,” muttered Toa Lewa. “I get the team with personality.” Toa Kopaka told him to be quiet.

Jala looked at me and then at Toa Tahu. Obviously, we would stay with him. I was a little disappointed, because I would have liked to see the inside of the Bahrag lair. What was it like in there, I wondered? Someone needed to describe it on the Wall of History. And two of their party had Kakama, too. We were stuck doing the same old thing, accompanying three Toa who were following these creatures who could easily crush all six Toa. But I didn’t say anything. Everyone was in a bad enough mood as it was.

We set off after the tracks again. We walked until we were weary, always a little ways behind the Kal. They led us across the desert and into the river valley, where we finally camped for the night. While we ate, Toa Tahu took a stick and poked at the coals in the campfire. Toa Kopaka sat far from the fire, by himself, and studied his ice blades. Toa Lewa looked off into the distance, watching the birds and humming a tune until Toa Tahu told him to shut up. Finally, they all went to sleep. Jala is keeping watch, and now that I’m finished writing, I’m going to get some rest, too.


Summer 1 : 13

The Team with Personality trudged wordlessly after the Bohrok-Kal all morning. I’m not sure why Toa Tahu chose up the groups the way he did. Maybe it’s because he, Toa Kopaka, and Toa Lewa are the most aggressive fighters. It’s not like Toa Pohatu and Toa Onua will actually have much of an advantage looking underground for the Bahrag anymore, without their elemental powers. He probably wanted Toa Gali to be on whatever team he wasn’t, because she was apparently still mad at him.

The Kal led us along the river for a while, heading east toward Ga-Wahi. We stopped to rest around noon on a shady hillside by the river. Toa Lewa sat in a tree where he could watch for the distant Kal and still participate in the conversation. “I don’t get it,” he said. “They’re wander-walking away from the Kini-Nui. Shouldn’t they be going toward it?”

“No telling what kind of nonsense is going through those parasitic brains,” muttered Toa Tahu. “What does it matter? It just gives the other Toa a better chance to find the Bahrag before they do.”

Toa Kopaka disagreed. “It does matter, Tahu. The more we know about them and their mission, the better we can thwart them. I’m guessing they’re looking for krana again.”

“Why would they care about krana when they already overpower us so easily?” asked Toa Tahu, irritation in his voice. “That can’t be it.”

“Maybe these krana are some kind of power-key they need to free the Bahrag,” speculated Toa Lewa.

Toa Tahu suggested Toa Lewa ask them telepathically. Toa Lewa just crossed his arms and looked away. Toa Kopaka said, “Since we’re worthless at fighting them, we have to outsmart them. Collect the krana before they can. And pick up some masks along the way.”

Toa Tahu insisted we keep trying to fight the Kal every chance we got. Toa Kopaka argued that attacking directly would be pointless suicide. The discussion degenerated to the point where Toa Tahu was questioning Toa Kopaka’s courage, and Toa Kopaka was questioning Toa Tahu’s sanity. Finally Toa Lewa said, “We can’t do either one from five hundred bios away. We need to hurry-catch them.” He dropped out of the tree and put one hand on each of the other Toa’s shoulders. “Come on, brothers. If we follow-trail them really closely, we can look-watch for good chances to sneak-attack. And maybe we’ll stumble-trip over a krana or a Kanohi along the way.”

Toa Tahu asked how we would catch up without a Kakama. Toa Kopaka suggested we travel day and night, with the help of the Toa’s Ruru, until we were close to them. Toa Lewa nodded, noting that the Kal did not appear to be moving very fast. They just had a long head start after knocking the Toa out the previous day.

So off we went again. We walked all afternoon and evening. After a quick supper break, we resumed the trail, with Jala and me riding on the Toa’s backs. I completely lost track of where we were walking in the dark, but we were definitely heading uphill. Just as the first rays of dawn were streaking across the western sky, we crested a ridge and saw the Bohrok-Kal, gathered around a big outcrop of volcanic rock. We ducked behind another boulder, and Kopaka shared his Akaku with us so we could see what the Kal were doing.

The Nuhvok-Kal pulled something from a niche in the rock. “A krana,” muttered Toa Kopaka, his eyepiece whirring to zoom in on it. We all saw the small rubbery metallic object, which writhed slightly as the Kal of Gravity put it under the headplate of the Lehvak-Kal. Hasty plans were whispered. Toa Lewa gestured to Jala and me to stay behind the rock.

Using their Huna, the Toa quietly crept out and surrounded the group of Kal. On Toa Tahu’s signal, they all reappeared at once, brandishing their weapons and yelling. The Kal seemed only mildly surprised. They slowly turned to face their attackers. Toa Lewa lunged for the Lehvak-Kal, but it blocked his katanas with its hand shields. Toa Tahu managed to pry open the headplate of the Kohrak-Kal with his weapon, exposing its krana. Toa Kopaka kicked the Nuhvok-Kal’s feet out from under it and stood with sword raised, ready to whack open its head.

But at that moment the Gahlok-Kal raised its hand shields, saying calmly, “Allow me.” The three Toa were slammed together by a powerful magnetic force and fell over, unable to pull themselves apart.

“Perhaps our foes will learn from this that even as a team, they are powerless to stop us,” remarked the Tahnok-Kal coolly as it snapped its companion’s head closed again. The Kal took one last look at the Toa, still tightly bound together and lying on the ground. Then they resumed their way.

Once again, Jala and I sat around waiting for the Toa to return to normal. But this time they were awake. Except for the overwhelming worry I had felt last time, I almost preferred it when they couldn’t talk. Because all they did, as they rolled vainly on the ground, trying to wrench themselves free of each other, was argue about whose fault it was.

While the Toa were still helpless, Jala climbed to the top of a crag and saw a guard unit in the distance. He made some sort of hand signals, and soon a scout appeared and spoke with him. The scout went away and returned with a package. Then he waved to me and ran off to rejoin his company. Jala came down the hill and opened the bundle. It was full of food, which was a very good thing, because we had just about run out of provisions. I stuffed it into my backpack. Jala told me that there was nothing new to report from Ta-Koro. But we expected that, since we had just tangled with the only bad news on Mata Nui.

Finally, the magnetic effect began to wear off. The Toa were able to pull their arms and legs free first. They managed to sit up, their backs to each other. Jala took Toa Lewa’s hands while I pulled on Toa Tahu’s. Toa Kopaka clung to his swords, stuck in a crack in the rock, to anchor himself. After a lot of struggling, we managed to yank the three of them apart.

Toa Lewa stood up, trying to brush off the chunks of rock that were still clinging magnetically to his chest. “No offense, true-friends, but that’s about as much brotherhood as I can stand for one day.”

Toa Tahu and Toa Kopaka mumbled in agreement, for once. Jala suggested we take a breakfast break before we continued, since the Toa’s feet were still sticking to the rocky ground, which made walking difficult. I pulled some dried fish out of my pack. The Toa ate quietly, just looking off into the distance.

By noon we were back on the trail, moving quickly so as not to let the Kal get too far ahead of us. No one seemed to have any desire to attack them again today. So we walked and walked, finally stopping for dinner on a slope of the Mangai. The lava flowing nearby kept us plenty warm without a fire. Even though Toa Tahu and Toa Kopaka wanted to keep going, Toa Lewa didn’t have much trouble convincing them to take a short rest. They all went to sleep as soon as the sun went down, since they had been hiking for almost two whole days and all night in between. Jala promised he would wake them up in a couple of hours so we could keep pace with our enemy.

The first stars are just coming out as I write this. I wonder if Nixie is looking at the same ones through her telescope right now. She’s probably a bit more alert than I am, though. The stars are starting to look blurry. Since I’ve caught up on two days in my journal, I’m going to get some sleep.


Summer 1 : 14

I had a weird dream last night. I was alone on the cliff, looking through the telescope, and I saw six big stars against a dark sky scattered with small ones. As I watched, there was a seventh star that started glowing fiercely. Soon it was as brilliant as the first six. It kept increasing in intensity until my eyes hurt to look at it, but for some reason, I was unable to turn away. Then I realized I was staring at Jala’s lightstone, and he was shaking my arm. He was waking us all up in the middle of the night so we could get after the Kal again.

I sat up. My stomach felt like it was in knots from the half-night of sleep and the dream. No one else really felt like eating breakfast either, so we started walking. I couldn’t feel too sorry for myself, because Jala didn’t get any rest at all. He fell asleep on Toa Kopaka’s back right away. I rode on Toa Tahu’s shoulders, trying not to think about all the creepy things that might be lurking out there in the darkness. I dozed off a few times, too, but Toa Tahu was kind enough to walk carefully so I didn’t fall off.

As dawn broke, we stopped for breakfast. We must have been directly east of the Mangai, because the rays of the rising sun were streaming through the smoke rising off the volcano. My two favorite things together—light and heat—make such an incredible sight. Jala sat on the rock next to me and handed me some dried fruit he had pulled out of my pack. We ate quietly together as the burning sun ascended above the summit. It looked like it was rising out of the crater.

Surprisingly, Toa Kopaka broke the silence. “We’ve almost caught up again,” he said quietly. “We need to think ahead this time.”

Toa Lewa said, “We might have won last time, if we had stayed sight-hidden.”

“Or if we had created a diversion to lure some of them away,” added Toa Kopaka. “Outnumbered, we were doomed to fail.”

“Look, we didn’t have much time to prepare. We had a chance to do something, and that’s better than just sitting and griping. We’ve got to keep trying,” snapped Toa Tahu. I gathered that he had been the one that came up with the last plan.

I leaned toward Jala and remarked that since the Toa were used to being elemental heroes, it must be really hard for them to get used to being oversized Matoran with mask powers.

“That’s it!” cried Jala, standing up. The Toa turned to look at him, and I tried to make myself as small as possible. Jala seemed to regain his sense of propriety and asked, “May I make a respectful suggestion?”

Toa Lewa nodded, and Jala said, “You Toa are used to being more powerful than your adversaries. We Matoran are used to being weaker. We have no inherent powers, only skills we have learned over time.” He produced and deployed his double-bladed dagger with one smooth, elegant motion. “Maybe I can help you learn to think like a Matoran.”

Toa Tahu frowned. He didn’t look like he wanted to get lessons on being a Matoran. But then he asked Jala what he had in mind.

“Since your tools no longer work to channel your powers, you should take a little time to master their use as weapons before you attack the Kal again.”

Toa Lewa stood up and swung his blades through the air. “Good idea, guard-captain,” he smiled. “I got pretty quick-sharp with my axe. In fact, I almost felt like I was built knowing how to swift-wield it. Since I’ve had these katanas, though, I’ve really only used them to wind-soar.”

Toa Kopaka leaped to his feet and laid his weapon across Toa Lewa’s. “Same here, with my skates,” he said. “But the double blade is definitely a different weapon than a single sword.”

Toa Tahu brought his swords down onto the others’ crossed blades. “With no enemies to confront, I’ve mostly been surfing on mine. I say we do a little sparring.”

Jala beamed. He was obviously pleased the Toa liked his idea. He offered to demonstrate a few of his Guard techniques.

They gathered around him as he showed them various moves—thrusts, parries, feints, and so on. Then he asked me to come help him. I took my own knife out of my pack and awkwardly pulled it open. It was sticky with fruit juice. Jala used me as a stand-in for an enemy as he explained a few of the more complex maneuvers. I remembered all his terms from my guard training, even though I’m not any good at doing them. A couple of times I thought I was going to get jabbed, but Jala is really skilled with his blade, and he always stopped just short of contact.

The Toa were barely patient enough to sit through the lesson. As soon as Jala paused, Toa Lewa spun his blades over his head. He brought them down and thrust them at an imaginary enemy the way Jala had demonstrated.

The Toa of Fire and Ice began to try the moves, too. Each Toa ran through the Guard drills a few times and then began to add his own twist to them. After all, even though they had primarily used their new tools to travel or channel elemental powers, they were not exactly novices when it came to close combat.

Then Toa Lewa danced in front of Toa Tahu, one blade in each hand, and eagerly asked if he was ready. Toa Tahu answered him by clanking his swords against Toa Lewa’s. They each stepped back a pace, and then the contest was on.

I’m not going to describe every lunge and parry, but let me just say that it was breathtaking to watch. Toa Lewa’s agility and lightness on his feet contrasted sharply with Toa Tahu’s brute force approach. Toa Lewa would feint to one side, then flip over his own katanas and swing them toward Toa Tahu’s exposed other side. Toa Tahu would block the attack, then counter with a solid blow to Toa Lewa’s middle. Toa Lewa would nimbly dodge it somehow, and so on. Sometimes they used their swords separately, sometimes as one double blade. After a long session of intense sparring, both Toa were panting. Toa Lewa turned to Jala. “How are we doing, little fight-trainer?”

“You’re asking me, mighty Toa?” laughed Jala. “I could only dream of fighting like that!”

Toa Kopaka, who had been watching attentively, asked, “After you rest a moment, Tahu—”

Toa Tahu took a deep breath. “I’m ready for you any time, Kopaka. Bring it on!”

“As you wish,” shrugged Toa Kopaka. He walked toward Toa Tahu as Toa Lewa stepped back. They circled each other warily for a moment, and then Toa Tahu began the fight with a forceful blow to Toa Kopaka’s head. Toa Kopaka blocked it with his shield.

“Get rid of that thing,” scoffed Toa Tahu. Toa Kopaka quickly folded his shield and stowed on his back. Then he spun his ice blades in the air and lunged at Toa Tahu, who jumped to the side. Toa Kopaka spun around, bringing his swords around behind him. Toa Tahu winced as they grazed his side. “You got me,” he groaned.

Toa Tahu clenched his jaw and swung his weapon at Toa Kopaka’s legs. Toa Kopaka did a flip, but when he landed, he found himself staring at the tip of Toa Tahu’s fire sword. Toa Kopaka laughed. “Now you got me.”

The Toa of Fire and Ice continued their skirmish until both were breathing hard. I suppose they remembered the incident when they lost their tempers just before the Kal’s arrival, so they were careful not to injure each other, but the fighting was still intense, and their faces were grim. Neither one seemed to want to be the first to quit. Finally Jala took advantage of a pause in the action and bravely jumped between them. “Toa, you might want to save some of that for the Kal,” he smiled brightly.

“Right,” agreed Toa Tahu, lowering his swords. Toa Kopaka nodded.

“Thanks for the fight-lesson, Jala,” grinned Toa Lewa. “Too bad the Kal don’t have katanas.”

“Yes, hopefully you can get close enough to them to use some of this stuff,” Jala replied. “You can use those same moves to knock out a krana.”

We decided to get going again. In spite of the physical exertion, the Toa seemed more energetic than before. I remembered what Jala had told me about troop morale, and I understood why he had been daring enough to teach the Toa to fight. I told him his idea was really smart.

He said he never would have thought of it if I hadn’t had that insight about oversized Matoran. “You were the one with the idea. I just put it into practice,” he laughed. And it’s funny, but he’s right. That pretty much sums up why we work well together. I daydream, and he acts on it.

The combat lesson set us back a little, so we didn’t catch up with the Kal by nightfall. They had led us back into Le-Wahi, and we decided to stop and get some rest, even though it meant another delay. I set off to gather firewood. Imagine my delight when I saw a Pakari Nuva lodged in a crack in a boulder! Once again, I happened to be in the right place at the right time. I ran back to camp, breathless, and told Toa Tahu. The Toa looked at one another.

“Since your villager luck-found it, it should be yours, Tahu,” said Toa Lewa. Toa Kopaka nodded.

Toa Tahu followed me to the mask. With considerable effort, he pried it out of the rock with his sword and put it on. He patted my back, saying, “Too bad it’s not a Kakama, but I guess it’s the next best thing.” Then he led me back to the others. As we ate dinner, the Toa discussed their plan for when we would catch up with the Kal. They agreed the invisibility trick would probably not work again, because the Kal might expect it. Instead, they’ve settled on another idea, which involves projecting illusions with their Mahiki to split up their enemies. Then they will use their newly sharpened combat skills to move in and capture the krana.

I hope their confidence is well founded. I’m a little nervous about the whole thing. It’s my turn to do guard duty while the Toa sleep, so now I get to put my book away and stare out into the darkness for a couple of hours. Lucky me.




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[GaliGee]

Summer 1 : 15

Before Jala went to sleep, he pointed to a small orange star and told me that as soon as it reached the eastern horizon, it would be time to wake everyone up. So I sat there watching the sky, trying not to think about all the things making strange whirring and chirping noises in the dark. Then it occurred to me that the things I should fear most would probably be silent. This sobering thought kept my eyes wide open for a couple of hours. But my fatigue began to overpower my worry, and I started to nod off. I tried desperately to stay awake by slapping my own mask every now and then. Then I went and sat on a really pointy, uncomfortable rock. The star was finally getting close to the horizon when a big fog bank rolled in. I was sitting there wondering if I should just go ahead and wake the others, when Toa Lewa sat up.

He greeted me cheerfully. I asked him if we should wake the others, and he held a finger to his mask. He stood next to Jala, who began to float off the ground. I suppressed a laugh as I watched my friend try to turn over in his sleep. His arms flailed in the air, and he cried, “Look, Hahli, I can fly!” Then his eyes snapped open.

Toa Lewa and I burst out laughing. Jala caught his breath, his eyes wide, as Toa Lewa lowered him gently to the ground. “Oh, man, that was cold,” muttered Jala. But our mirth was contagious, and he couldn’t help but laugh with us.

Meanwhile, the other Toa had woken up. Toa Tahu looked mildly amused when I told him what Toa Lewa had done. Toa Kopaka gave me a fleeting smile, then said, “We’ve got some ground to cover today.” He took the handful of dried fruit I was offering, ate it in one gulp, and started after the Kal’s footprints again. The rest of us scrambled after him, stuffing our breakfast in our mouths as we walked. Toa Lewa hoisted me onto his back, but Jala decided to walk for a while.

Back on the trail, the Team with Personality made good time. I lay my head down on Toa Lewa’s shoulders, but his bouncy gait made it difficult to rest. Jala watched my bobbing head and suggested I try Toa Kopaka instead. “He’s the best to sleep on,” he advised me.

Toa Kopaka picked me up, and Jala was right. The movements of the Toa of Ice are so efficient that no effort is ever wasted. He moved forward with a long, smooth stride, and in no time I was sound asleep.

When I woke again, we were deep in the jungle. Toa Kopaka felt me stirring and gently set me down. “We’re getting close,” he whispered to the others as they caught up. “In fact,” he added, adjusting his Akaku, “they’re only a few hundred bios ahead. We need to walk quietly.” With his shared mask power, we could see a group of tiny, fuzzy shapes that stood out against the fairly uniform background of the forest.

The party resumed the trail, creeping cautiously through the underbrush. Toa Lewa took the lead, soundlessly slicing through vines and branches. Soon he turned to confer with the rest of us. “They’re flock-gathered around a krana,” he whispered. “This would be a good chance-time.”

“That’s not a krana, Lewa,” breathed Toa Kopaka. We watched for a moment, and sure enough, I could barely see the shape of what looked like an Akaku Nuva.

“It’s a Kanohi!” exclaimed Toa Tahu. Toa Kopaka gestured for him to be quiet.

The Gahlok-Kal pulled the mask loose from a boulder. Then the Pahrak-Kal raised its hand shields and blasted a hole in the boulder. The Gahlok-Kal shoved the mask into the hole and stepped back as the Pahrak-Kal approached the rock again.

“They’re going to hide-seal it inside that rock!” gasped Toa Lewa. “And with no powers—”

“Not if we get in there and grab it first,” muttered Toa Tahu, pulling his swords off his back.

Toa Kopaka put his hand on Toa Tahu’s arm to stop him. “The plan,” he reminded the Toa of Fire in a low voice. The others nodded, and the Toa mobilized immediately, changing to their Huna and surrounding the Kal. On Toa Lewa’s whistled signal, they all switched to the Mahiki. Suddenly a dozen Toa stood around the clearing, weapons drawn.

The Kal reacted nonchalantly, as they had before. They turned, their backs to each other, and began to fire at the imaginary Toa. Toa Lewa whistled again, and the real Toa sprang into the center of the Kal circle. With the same smoothness they had exhibited in practice, our heroes brandished their blades and began to attack their adversaries. I smiled as I realized what they were doing. The Kal’s ranged powers were far too dangerous to use in close quarters, especially since the Toa had maneuvered them into a position where they would be firing at each other.

This time, when Toa Lewa’s blow was blocked by the Nuhvok-Kal’s gravity shields, he was ready with the other blade, going for the undefended gap. With a deft twist, he flipped open the creature’s head plate. A swift kick dislodged the krana and sent it flying into the bushes.

Toa Tahu was having a bit more difficulty. The Gahlok-Kal threw the Akaku at his mask, catching him off guard. He deflected the flying object with his sword, but in the meantime the Kal of Magnetism fixed his feet to the ground with a short burst of its power. As he twisted to free himself, Toa Tahu saw the Lehvak-Kal behind him, drawing in air with its hand shields. Toa Tahu threw himself onto the dirt, and the blue Kal found itself being blasted by high-pressure air intended for its foe. Using his new Pakari to resist the fading magnetic pull, Toa Tahu rolled over and jabbed his sword upward under the edge of the Lehvak-Kal’s head plate, launching its krana.

Toa Kopaka left the Pahrak-Kal he had just hacked open and pursued the Gahlok-Kal. His sword clanged against the creature’s hand shields, and he quickly spun around, slicing open its head plate. But behind him, the Tahnok-Kal was pointing its hand shields at him.

“Come on!” urged Jala, pulling my disk off my back and shoving it into my hand. We ran into the clearing and hurled our disks at the Tahnok-Kal. The surprised mechanical bug spun around to see the source of the annoyance. Toa Lewa did a back flip and landed on its head, knocking it to the ground before it could fire at us. Then he kicked open the Kal’s head plate, and the krana tumbled out.

“You have no idea how lucky we are,” panted Jala, no doubt remembering what it was like to be electrified.

The weakness of the Toa’s strategy suddenly became obvious. Subduing five out of six mighty foes sounds like quite an accomplishment for three powerless Toa. But one Kal on the loose was enough to doom the plan. And one Kal had ducked out of the fray and was standing out of sword reach: the Kohrak-Kal.

Toa Kopaka desperately hurled his swords at the Kohrak-Kal, but it dodged them, and the blades stuck in the tree behind it. A deafening noise filled the air, silencing the birds and insects. The very air and earth began to vibrate as the whine increased to a howl. Overwhelmed, I stumbled to my knees, clutching my head. Blackness closed around me.

I felt something rough dragging across my Kanohi. I opened my eyes and looked into a familiar face. It was Puku! I suppose she must have heard the racket the Kal had made. And my loyal crab had come to find me. Laughing as she licked my mask, I reached up and hugged her eye stalks.

I pulled myself up, groggily, and leaned on Puku. My head was throbbing, but the sight of my friends, along with the shafts of yellow light from the late afternoon sun shining into the clearing, cheered me up a bit. Jala was rubbing his head. “Takua!” he cried joyfully when he saw me sitting up. “Now everyone is all right.”

Toa Tahu was pacing. “We almost did it,” he muttered. “Where did we go wrong?”

“Look at this!” exclaimed Toa Lewa. “The foot-tracks have wander-split!” He disappeared into the underbrush and reappeared a few moments later. “Yes, the power-bugs have divided into two groups. One has gone back lava-ward, and the other is continuing jungle-bound.”

“We should get our masks before we fight them again,” said Toa Kopaka. He was scanning the bushes, apparently looking for the Akaku.

“If the Kal are trying to hide them, they must think they would be of value to us against them,” replied Toa Tahu. “But we shouldn’t stop following them just to look.”

“The blade-skill practice you gave us really helped, little firespitter,” remarked the Toa of Air, patting Jala’s shoulder. “I don’t think we would have krana-robbed any of them without it, since they’re getting battle-wise to our tricks now. They didn’t linger-look at the illusions for very long. Now that they’ve wander-split apart, our luck-chance might be better. If we had had the other Toa with us just now, I think we might have—say, what’s that, ice-brother?”

Toa Kopaka was staring up a tall tree. His Akaku zoomed in, and sure enough, there was the new Akaku, lodged in a fork at the very top of it.

Toa Tahu looked up. “If I had my fire powers, I could burn down the tree, but…”

“If I could still high-fly, it would be ground-bound already,” sighed Toa Lewa. “I suppose the Nuhvok-Kal must have back-twisted gravity to get it up there. But I can’t float-rise quite that high with a Miru. I guess I’ll just do it the hard-way, and climb halfway up first.” He began to scramble up the tree.

Toa Kopaka changed to his Komau and followed a passing Nui-Rama with his eyes. The giant insect suddenly swerved, plunging into the top of the tree. It plucked the mask out of the foliage with its claws and swooped down toward us. Jala and I dove for cover, and the other two Toa backed away, leaving Toa Kopaka alone in the clearing. He held out his hand, and the Rama set the Akaku right in his palm. Then it buzzed straight up, leveled out, and disappeared into the distance.

Toa Kopaka handed Toa Lewa the mask as he dropped out of the tree. “Thanks! I’m speechless!” marveled the green Toa.

“See to it that you remain that way,” replied Toa Kopaka with a sideways glance.

It was already getting dark. Puku and I went into the woods, where I stacked some firewood onto her back. We even found some Bula berries, and I heaped the sweet, juicy fruit onto my disk to carry back to camp while Puku gorged herself straight off the bush. We built a big fire and ate the berries and some dried fish. We were all really hungry, so no one spoke during dinner.

Now we’re just sitting and talking and watching the fire. The discussion of the Toa is going in circles. Toa Kopaka is insisting the three of them should split up and look for the masks. Toa Tahu is saying if they stick together, they can share the masks, so finding them doesn’t matter right now. We should pick one group of Kal and follow it. And Toa Lewa is saying that we should find the other Toa and get them to follow the other group. Toa Kopaka says it’s easier for them to find us, with two Kakama among them. “And that’s exactly why we each need to look for our own Kanohi,” he added. “Chained together for the sake of mask powers, our options are limited.”

Having spoken, Toa Kopaka stood up and found a soft, mossy piece of ground, well away from the fire, on which to lie down. I get the impression he’s pretty tired of the other two Toa. Being with them for a few days, he’s probably heard more conversation than he gets in a month in Ko-Koro.

It’s Jala’s turn to keep watch, so I’m curling up between Puku’s claws and getting some sleep.


Summer 1 : 16

Early this morning when I woke up, Toa Lewa and Toa Tahu were arguing, and Jala was just trying not to fall asleep long enough to eat some breakfast. Puku had scrounged up some bugs for herself. I asked Jala where Toa Kopaka was. He said, “Toa Kopaka woke up, nodded to me, and started to walk off. I asked him where he was going, and he said, ‘Away.’ He took a few more steps before he turned around and thanked me for the sword fighting lesson. And then he strode off into the jungle.”

“Well, I say good riddance.” Toa Tahu stood up and looked at Toa Lewa. “You have an Akaku, anyway, so we don’t need him. Let’s just go waylay one party of Bohrok-Kal. I say we follow the ones headed for Ta-Wahi.”

“Speaking of power-masks,” said Toa Lewa, swinging himself into a tree, “I agree with Kopaka. I think we should seek-find some more of them before we fight the Kal again. Last time we had a battle-plan that used all we have—our noble masks and our new sword-skills—and they still sorry-blasted us. The odds are better, even with one fewer war-blade on our side, but as long as we’re outnumbered at all...”

“With that attitude, Lewa—” Tahu began, but he was interrupted when a reddish-orange blur appeared in our midst. Toa Pohatu appeared, and Toa Tahu said, “Well, there you go. Our odds just improved again. What news do you bring, Pohatu? Did you find the Bahrag? And where are the others?”

Toa Pohatu smiled. “Hello, everyone. I don’t have much to tell, other than to complain once more about losing my powers. We got to the place where we emerged from the Bohrok lair after fighting the Bahrag, and it was blocked with stone and earth. And we were helpless to do anything about it.”

Toa Tahu grimaced. “But with a shared Pakari, couldn’t you just move the rocks? Even without earth and stone powers?”

“Sure. We started to, but after a while, we saw how depressingly slow our progress was. And who knows how deep that rubble is? We decided it would be better to try to deprive the Kal of their krana instead. So I came to find you, to see how you were doing in your pursuit.”

“Where are our water-sister and earth-brother?” asked Toa Lewa.

Toa Pohatu looked up at him. “I ran Onua back to Onu-Koro to check in with his Turaga. And Gali went back to her region, too.”

“Whose idea was it to give up?” asked Toa Tahu with great irritation.

“Well,” said the Toa of Stone slowly, “I believe Gali was the one who spoke first, but all of us were thinking the same thing.”

Toa Tahu kicked a rock. It ricocheted off Toa Lewa’s tree and landed in the campfire, raising a cloud of ash.

Toa Lewa said, “Wait, Pohatu. The Kakama Nuva lets you fast-move through stone and earth now, right?”

“Well, yes, but without an Akaku, we wouldn’t know what we would be running into. By the way, where’s Kopaka?”

“Who knows?” muttered Toa Tahu. “Who cares?”

“See, Tahu?” said Toa Lewa. “One more smart-reason to get the masks first.”

Toa Tahu insisted we didn’t have that kind of time. But Toa Lewa said that as long as the Bohrok-Kal were looking for their krana, too, perhaps we did. And throwing ourselves uselessly at the Kal didn’t seem to be slowing them down any.

Toa Tahu finally ordered, “Pohatu, take Lewa with you and go back to the cave opening. He has a Akaku now. After you see if the Bahrag are still there, come back and report to me. I’ll stay on the trail of the Kal that are headed for Ta-Wahi.”

Toa Pohatu straightened up from his usual slouch and snapped his heels together. “Consider it done. Lewa?”

Toa Lewa dropped out of the tree. “All right. But when we’re finished look-gazing at that dank-slime hole in the ground, you’d better zip-run me back to my jungle for some fresh air.”

“Yeah. You resume the trail of the other Kal,” Toa Tahu suggested. “And use that new Akaku to keep an eye out for Kanohi.”

Pohatu smiled. “You might want to check in with your Turaga sometime, Tahu, like the others are doing. For some reason those geezers always seem to have an idea where the masks are.”

Toa Tahu crossed his arms and watched them vanish. He turned and kicked some dirt over the remains of the campfire. “Come on, you two. Let’s follow these tracks.”

I offered to let Jala ride on Puku, but he politely refused. “I’m an infantryman, Takua,” he smiled. So I got on instead. It felt good to ride instead of walk, because my feet are weary from days of trekking. After his night watch, Jala he was so tired he began to stumble. Toa Tahu picked him up so he could catch up on his sleep.

As we drove on after the Kal again, my mind wandered back to the day when Puku adopted me. The first time I saw her was during my travels in the time of the infected Rahi. The Onu-Koronan who runs the taxi crab stand saw me walking up to the entrance of the underground village, and he offered me a ride on a retired racing crab. I started to refuse, because Ussals have always seemed kind of scary to me. Sure, they’re tame, but those claws are pretty intimidating. Still, I looked down the long, dark tunnel, and I decided I’d prefer to have some company, even if it was of the eight-legged variety. So I climbed onto her smooth back, and off we went. The ride was very pleasant, and her gait even and regular. In no time we were at the village. I hopped off and patted her head right behind her eye stalks, and she leaned over and rubbed her face on me. Then I walked to the biggest hut, figuring I’d be most likely to find out what was going on in there. Later I wandered into the Ussal stable, and I met Onepu there. He was waxing a crab, and like any soldier, he was happy to tell me a little bit about his work. The crabs used to serve in mining transport, digging, and racing, but of late he had been training them to carry Onu-Koronans into battle. He had noticed me coming into the village, and he told me a little more about the crab I had been riding. “She was a real champ in her day,” he said with pride. I think he was the one who used to race on her.

To make a long story short, the Turaga manipulated me into gathering a company of Matoran to defend the Kini-Nui while the Toa were underground fighting Makuta. No sooner had the Toa dropped into the temple, and the last cloud of dust settled from the moving stones, when a couple of infected Rahi showed up. We encircled the giant stone monument, which is so large we could only just see each other. First there was a Muaka and a Kane-Ra. Hafu was slinging disks so fast I could barely see them, but the creatures were batting them away and still approaching. It was obvious it would take more than one Matoran to defeat them. Maku moved around to help, and soon all of us were firing at them. Finally Kopeke knocked the last mask off the Kane-Ra, and there was peace… for about thirty seconds.

This happened over and over again as more Rahi attacked. Kapura would relocate himself around the animals to confuse and surprise them. Hafu and Maku relied on sheer arm strength and deadly aim. Kopeke shot infrequently, but he never missed. Taipu—well, he just turned himself into a disk-spewing machine, sending out a cloud of them at high speed. Hardly any of them actually hit anything, but they made the beasts recoil in dread so someone else had a chance to make the critical shot. And Tamaru was doing crazy stuff, like hurling disks between his legs and turning flips. His weird fighting style mesmerized more than one Rahi long enough for Hafu to home in on the infected masks. I—yes, even I—got in a few lucky shots. At one point my disk hit one Muaka mask and bounced off onto the other, knocking it off as well. I couldn’t believe it!

Well, we were holding our own for a while, but as everyone knows, Makuta got wind that his visitors had backup, and he sent a rampaging horde of enraged animals at us. Thundering Kane-Ra hoofs almost drowned out the hissing of the mighty Nui-Jaga as they skittered toward our company. Snarling Muaka crept closer as swarms of Nui-Rama darkened the sky. Tarakava, summoned from the distant sea and desert, rumbled toward us. We glanced at each other in terror. I wondered which was a more painful death, a Muaka bite or a Nui-Jaga sting. But we muttered some words of encouragement to each other and started flinging disks. Kapura teleported himself right into harm’s way to gather a bunch of disks we had already used, because Hafu is the only one who can reliably throw them so they return to him. Then, when he had an armful, that plucky red fellow did his relocation trick to bring them back to us.

After several rounds, though, Maku was limping from a Tarakava’s blow to her leg, Kopeke was fishing for his mask in the tall grass, and Tamaru was clawing at the Nui-Jaga poison in his eyes. I had gotten scooped up by a Nui-Rama before Kapura shot it out of the sky, and my shoulders were clawed and bruised. Disks were running low, and hope was fading fast. But just as Hafu was using his axe to fend off a Kane-Ra that was ramming Taipu’s head, reinforcements arrived. Jala’s guard, Kongu’s Kahu Force, and Onepu’s Ussalry all sailed valiantly over the hills. Later Hafu joked that he wasn’t sure who had it worse, Taipu or the Kane-Ra.

Say, I haven’t managed to keep this story very short, have I? Anyway, the combined armies of Mata Nui drove away the herd of crazed creatures, and we could breathe again. Then Onepu stepped forward with that same crab I had ridden in Onu-Koro. He told me she had insisted on coming along, even though she was retired from service. He said she liked me! I’m not sure how she had told him that, but she scuttled up to me and nuzzled me with her eye stalks, so I guess he was right. She gave me a ride down into the tunnels again, so I could see the end of the Toa’s battle with Makuta. She dropped me off at the elevators in the Great Mine. I was actually reluctant to part company with her and drop down into that mine shaft. She seemed to feel the same way.

Now, I have no idea what goes through the primitive little brain of a creature like an Ussal crab. But whatever it is, it’s brought Puku in and out of my life over and over again. She made her way to Ta-Koro for the victory party after the Makuta battle, even though fireworks make her cover her eyes with her claws. When Turaga Vakama showed me that I actually had my own hut in the village of fire, which I had forgotten about, I added a room onto it for Puku. Whenever she’s around she stays there. She wanders off for days sometimes, but I know she’s all right, for she can take care of herself. But I’m always glad to see her again, because she always seems to show up when I need her most, and she also takes good care of me.

After we had gotten back into Ta-Wahi, Toa Pohatu and Toa Lewa showed up again. Toa Tahu asked them what they had found, and they replied, “Nothing.” Apparently the rubble was so thick they couldn’t see all the way through it with the Akaku. They ran through the stone, sharing both masks, but they came to some sort of wall that even the Akaku couldn’t see through. After a few attempts to go around it, or find an opening, they started running out of air. Toa Lewa wanted to try to run through the wall anyway, but the Toa of Stone refused to use his Kanohi to put them in danger. He said if you couldn’t see through it with an Akaku, it was doubtful you could run through it with a Kakama anyway. So they turned around and came back.

So, Toa Pohatu whisked Toa Lewa off to Le-Wahi again to follow the other set of tracks. Jala asked Toa Tahu if he wanted to stop by the village and see if Turaga Vakama could tell him about any mask locations, but Toa Tahu said maybe later. For the time being, he just wanted to keep following the Kal. So we did. We’ve stopped for the night on a high ridge. From here, we can see three of them moving across the hardened lava on the slope of the Mangai. I’m not sure what Toa Tahu has in mind, but whatever it is, he’s determined to see it through. It’s so warm here, with the magma flowing a few bios under our campsite, that we didn’t bother to light a fire. It’s my turn to watch for the night. I’m glad I have Puku to sit with me.


Summer 1 : 17

Puku nudged me awake this morning. I emerged from the fogginess of sleep and realized with a start that I was supposed to be on guard duty. Fortunately for all of us, Puku had been keeping watch in my place. I glanced around sheepishly, and everyone was safely asleep. Well, there’s something that definitely won’t make it to Turaga Vakama’s ears—or the Wall of History, either.

As Puku returned from her morning foraging with a large centipede to gnaw on, I woke Jala and Toa Tahu, and we were soon on our way. The tracks split again. At first Toa Tahu was annoyed, but then it occurred to him that one-on-one, he had a better chance of prevailing against the Kal. We followed the middle set of footprints. It seemed like we might be trailing the Pahrak-Kal, because from time to time we saw a melted cliff edge, or a crevice burned into the volcanic rock, as if it were testing its powers along the way.

Sure enough, we rounded a corner, and there was the Pahrak-Kal, in all its sinister bronze glory. Jala saw a group of Guardsmen trailing it at some distance, and he ran to see what they could tell us about its activities.

Toa Tahu scrambled over a rocky outcrop to confront the creature. It seemed to be staring intently at something, and it completely ignored his taunts, which infuriated him all the more. He finally jumped into its path, his swords raised, and charged it.

Well, the next part isn’t pretty to describe. The Pahrak-Kal melted the stone below Toa Tahu’s feet, then proceeded to blast his body with its fearsome elemental power. Toa Tahu didn’t seem to expect heat to hurt him, but evidently it did. He writhed in agony, too proud to cry out, but too wracked with pain even to get out of the way. I pulled my disk off my back and hurled it at the Kal. It flew into the plasma beam and vaporized instantly.

Luckily, Jala startled the Pahrak-Kal with a yell, and it turned around. Toa Tahu collapsed to the ground. The members of the Guard unit arrayed themselves around the Kal, disks and spears ready, even though such weapons were clearly useless against such formidable power.

The Kal seemed amused. “Is this your rescue party, Toa?” it said mockingly. “They’re a little on the puny side!” It ignored Jala’s retort and moved onto the next ridge.

Jala ran to Toa Tahu’s side, entreating him to let the creature go before he got hurt again. Toa Tahu shook him off, determined to pursue it. “Better that than living as a coward,” he snapped.

What happened next totally shocked me, because to Jala, Toa Tahu is more than just the protector of our village. He’s everything—role model, champion, and hero. I could hardly believe it when Jala shouted boldly, “You have no right!”

That got Toa Tahu’s attention. He asked Jala to repeat what he had said, probably thinking the Matoran would back down. But Jala explained himself. And what he said was true. He said that Toa Tahu’s duty to Mata Nui meant that the Toa had no right to sacrifice himself for personal pride.

The Kal stopped and turned to watch this conversation, throwing in a catty remark or two. But as Toa Tahu started to battle it with words, Jala jumped at the Kal with his knife and pried open its headplate. He grabbed the krana and held it up triumphantly. The Kal lurched and keeled over.

Toa Tahu cheered, “Good job, brave Jala!” The guardsmen all gathered around to see the strange object. It was glittery dark gray in color, and it squirmed slightly in Jala’s grip. He handed it to Toa Tahu, who said, “Now that we’ve captured one of them, the others will—”

The jubilation was cut short as one of the Ta-Koronans yelled and pointed. A Gahlok-Va was loading a new krana into the Pahrak-Kal. Everyone scattered like a flock of Gukko before a Muaka. The Kal jumped up and sprayed a ring of fire around itself, ensuring that no one would bother it as it made its leisurely way over the next hill.

Toa Tahu groaned. “I can’t believe it! And after your act of bravery, Jala…”

Jala was crestfallen. He folded his knife and put back in his pack.

“Well,” I said, trying to be encouraging, “at least we learned not to trust the Va. And maybe Turaga Vakama can tell us something useful about that krana.”

“You’re right, Takua,” sighed Toa Tahu. “Let’s go see Vakama.” We set off for the village.

After a couple hours of hiking, the fortress in the middle of the lava river was a welcome sight. The guards saluted efficiently, but they were smiling, glad to see their heroes again. And they were happy to see me, too. I waved at Lito, keeping watch on the wall, and he waved back. He’s one of my surfing buddies. We went inside and headed straight for Turaga Vakama’s hut.

The Turaga welcomed us warmly. He listened attentively to Toa Tahu’s account of Jala’s courageous attack on the Kal. Jala held up his head proudly as the village elder patted his shoulder. “Well done, Captain.”

Then his eyes narrowed as he examined the krana-kal more closely. He turned it over, following its creases with his finger. “It’s a Bo, the visionary krana. It works a bit like an Akaku.” Then I understood why it had been staring at the rocks around it. Perhaps it had been looking for krana hidden in the many crevices and bubbles in the hardened magma.

Then Turaga Vakama held it at arm’s length and changed to his Komau. The mask glowed slightly for a moment and stopped. Turaga Vakama changed back to his Huna and frowned. “Its will is very strong. It refuses to give up its secrets. But perhaps eventually we can learn something from it. And as you’ve pointed out, Toa Tahu, this incident has taught us not to trust the Va.” He started to summon a guardsman to tell the others about the change in policy, but Jala insisted on announcing the news himself.

As Jala briefed the troops, Turaga Vakama put the krana inside a stone box, using his firestaff to seal the edges. He explained that even outside a Bohrok, the krana might still be able to hear and see and transmit telepathic messages to its brothers. Then Jala returned, and the three of us sat down and reviewed everything we had learned about the Kal. “If they can get new krana from the Va, why are they searching for them?” asked Toa Tahu.

“Perhaps they can’t get them all from the Va. The Bahrag may have put a few extras in reserve for emergencies,” replied the Turaga. “The Pahrak-Kal may well have suffered a setback because of you. That krana you took probably contains the power of each of the krana it had collected, but the one brought by the Va holds only one power.”

Jala perked up at this thought. “That’s good,” he smiled. “I’ve instructed the Guard to round up all the Va and confine them in a cave on the other side of the river.”

“I’ll inform the other Turaga,” promised our village leader. “There are probably plenty of Va on the loose, though, so if you capture another krana-kal—”

“You mean WHEN we capture another krana-kal,” interrupted Toa Tahu.

“—when you capture another krana-kal,” grinned Turaga Vakama, “it might be a good idea to disassemble the Bohrok that was carrying it.” After a few more questions, he dismissed us for dinner.

We spent the evening in comfort, for a change. A hot meal with friends, instead of dried meat on the trail. As soon as Lito and Raku got off guard duty, they came and sat next to me at the evening storytelling. Turaga Vakama was particularly inspired. He retold the story of how the Toa had arrived and turned the tide against the infected Rahi. I think he might have been trying to lift Toa Tahu’s spirits a little by recounting lots of his heroic exploits. At any rate, it’s a story I never tire of hearing, unlike his lectures about responsibility. I sat, envisioning the gritty, action-packed scenes he evoked with his calm voice, and daydreamed of the time when all you had to do to defeat an enemy was knock off its tainted mask.

Finally, the fire died down to glowing embers, and the Turaga announced that the storytelling was over for the night. Puku settled happily into her cubby adjoining my hut. It was nice to lie down on my own bed again. Jala always teases me that as much as I like my bed, it’s amazing that I wander away from it so much. But I think it’s the time I spend sleeping on the ground that makes my bed feel so good.




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[GaliGee]

Summer 1 : 18

We left Ta-Koro this morning with new mask locations for Toa Tahu, a new disk for me, and new energy for all of us. Jala, in particular, had an extra spring in his step.

Toa Tahu told us he would first find the Kaukau Nuva hidden in the Kalala Lava Cave. Then we would head for Le-Wahi to retrieve the two Kakama in the Fau Swamp. “As soon as I get one of those, things will go much faster,” he promised us. “Say, maybe I should bring Lewa along, and he can have the other one.”

We climbed the many ridges of jagged volcanic rock up to the lava cave. By the time we arrived, it was afternoon. Toa Tahu stuck his head in the cavern and took a good look around. The cave had been exposed when a large portion of the Mangai’s cone collapsed from the destructive action of a swarm of Pahrak-Kal. Before he lost his powers, Toa Tahu had brought a party of us Matoran up there to surf it one day. While we zoomed around close to the mouth of the cave, the Toa of Fire had ridden his new magma-sword lava board deep inside the opening, all the way to the fissure where the lava surged straight from the core of the volcano. He had come back and told us all about the amazing view, looking into the very heart of the Mangai.

But today Toa Tahu was much more cautious. Not only had he lost his control over the lava, but the incident with the Pahrak-Kal had taught him that he had no more resistance to heat, either. He stepped onto his board and tested his surfing abilities without his elemental power. Jala and I didn’t have our boards, so we just watched. Toa Tahu still did a lot better at it than we Matoran could have because of his strength and agility, but I could tell he was pretty frustrated he couldn’t surf like he used to.

After a few trial runs, he hauled his board out of the lava. “I have to say,” he admitted, “I have new admiration for you Matoran, surfing on lava with no powers.” Then he turned back to the cave and muttered, mostly to himself, “What ridiculous irony that I have to surf over my element, which I no longer control, to get a mask that’s only useful in her element.” He rested for a moment before he gathered his courage and made a run for the opposite side of the cavern.

We watched breathlessly as his red figure receded, dark against the glowing yellow-orange fluid. When he reached the far wall, he leaped up onto a low ledge and stopped.

Jala pointed, and then I saw the Kaukau Nuva, resting on another ledge a few bios above Toa Tahu’s head. Toa Tahu pulled the swords off his feet and changed to his Pakari. I was so proud I had found it for him! He jammed one of the blades into the stone and tested it before he climbed up and wrapped his legs around it. He reached above his head and thrust the other tool into the wall. Then he carefully pulled himself up and stretched his arm toward the mask.

Just as Toa Tahu’s fingers touched the Kanohi, the magma sword suddenly shifted under his weight. The brittle stone had fractured with the force of his blow, and the blade was slipping out of the wall. The Kaukau tumbled off the ledge into the lava flow. Toa Tahu grabbed desperately for his sword, catching it as he fell onto the lower one. Fortunately, it held.

Jala and I glanced at each other in horror. He quickly pulled his disk off his back and hurled it at the mask, knocking it toward the edge of the stream, where it lodged against some rocks jutting into the lava. The bamboo disk, floating on the magma, burst into flames. I glanced back at Toa Tahu as I handed Jala my disk, since he’s a much better shot than I am. But he didn’t need to throw it, because Toa Tahu had changed to his Matatu, and the dripping mask was flying through the air toward him. He spun it in the air above his head to fling off the fiery fluid before reaching up and grabbing it with his hand. Judging from the look on his face, it was still quite hot.

Toa Tahu stepped backwards into the lava as he wrenched his other blade out of the wall, but finally he managed to make it back across to us. Through the pain of the burns on his hand and foot, he gave us a tense smile. “I can’t wait to get my fire back.”

Soon we were on our way toward Le-Wahi. As we walked, I wondered aloud whether Toa Tahu couldn’t have retrieved the Kaukau with his Matatu in the first place, and avoided all that danger. Jala replied that it was probably too far away, but once he had crossed the lava, he might have been able to get the Kanohi off the ledge without climbing. “Maybe he was being just a little bit stubborn,” Jala added in a low voice. “But any challenge is good training for a Toa.” I glanced at Toa Tahu’s broad back as he walked ahead of us, and I wondered what it would be like to live life doing things the hard way on purpose. Life is tough enough as it is! The Toa must really care about us, to put themselves through what they do.

Late that afternoon, I had another vision from Toa Gali. This time, she wasn’t the one in trouble. It was Toa Lewa. In the vision, she and Toa Kopaka ran to his aid in the jungle. He was clutching the sides of his head and rolling around in agony. I couldn’t hear what they were saying to him, but finally Toa Lewa sat up and answered them. It seemed to me that perhaps he had tangled with the Kohrak-Kal. I winced as I remembered how much my head hurt after hearing its overwhelming blast of sonic energy.

Toa Tahu listened to my account with a frown on his face. “That vicious monster!” he hissed. “And what are Kopaka and Gali doing in Le-Wahi?” He stood up and began to march again, his pace quickened with anger. Jala, Puku, and I scrambled after him.

Finally, by the time we made it to the forest, Toa Tahu’s temper seemed to have calmed down. We stopped to camp for the night. I asked Toa Tahu if his burns were better, and he replied that the natural healing process had begun, thank Mata Nui. But I noticed he was sitting farther back from the fire than usual.

Jala has watch duty, so off to sleep I go.


Summer 1 : 19

This morning started out like all the others—just more hiking. But things got interesting fast. First, we ran across a set of Kal tracks. By now even I can tell them from regular Bohrok tracks, because the Kal are much heavier. Toa Tahu pivoted on his heel and began to follow them immediately.

“What about the Kakama, Toa Tahu?” I asked, trotting along to keep up with him. I had really been looking forward to him getting that mask. Even with Puku there, I was still doing a lot of walking, because I felt guilty about Jala not having a ride. Puku was big enough to carry us both, but it was a bit crowded on her shell, and Jala didn’t much like to ride her. Besides, she couldn’t keep up with Toa Tahu for long with both of us on her back.

“It can wait,” muttered the Toa of Fire.

Jala looked at me and shrugged, and we kept after him. The Kal led us back toward Ta-Wahi again. We left the last traces of the jungle behind by mid-morning.

As we crested the next ridge, we came upon a large swarm of Tahnok. Two Ta-Koronans were supervising them as they blasted apart a series of dams across a lava stream, which had probably been put there by some Pahrak or Kohrak. Toa Tahu stopped and studied them for a moment. Then he walked over to the Matoran and told them he needed the Tahnok for a mission. The villagers bowed deferentially.

Jala frowned. “What’s he got in mind?”

It was my turn to shrug. Toa Tahu summoned the Tahnok, and they gathered around him as he explained and gestured. Without their krana, the Bohrok are pretty docile, but they aren’t particularly smart. They understand only simple instructions, so you have to break things down into very basic tasks for them. “Follow me,” he ordered them. “I will point to a creature, and you will attack it with your fire power.”

This was a bizarre thought, indeed. Toa Tahu was going to wield the power of fire again—but through former enemies, against their own allies! If the Tahnok had still had krana, this would have been impossible, of course. But without them, they were machines for anyone to command. I shook my head in wonder at this irony.

But Jala was not so enthusiastic about Toa Tahu’s genius. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Takua,” he whispered. “After seeing the Va back in action to help the Kal, I think this could backfire.”

“But the Bohrok need krana to get instructions from the Bahrag, and the Va don’t,” I remarked. “Without krana, the Bohrok have no allegiance to anyone.”

“We don’t know that for sure. There could be some kind of fail-safe that prevents them from attacking a Kal,” he retorted. “They might turn on us when we ask them to, and then we’d be facing a Kal AND an angry swarm of Tahnok! It’s just too risky.”

I looked at our Toa, who was leading the Tahnok after the footprints. “Well, it is a little weird,” I admitted, “but what are you going to do, challenge Toa Tahu?”

Jala’s eyes flashed at me. “Look, Takua. Turaga Vakama didn’t send us with Toa Tahu just so we could come back to the village and tell the story of his defeat. If there’s something we can do, we need to do it!” He strode past the marching Tahnok and tapped the Toa’s arm.

Toa Tahu wasn’t convinced, apparently, because he patted Jala on the head and kept right on walking. Jala dropped back and walked with me in grim silence.

Well, Jala was right to believe that the plan would fail, but not for the reason he feared. We found the Nuhvok-Kal a few kios away. “Forward, Tahnok, and the day will be ours!” declared Toa Tahu, raising his swords and pointing one at the Kal. The Tahnok lifted their hand shields.

The Nuhvok-Kal was unimpressed. “You lead the Tahnok against me, Tahu? You are bits of straw challenging a whirlwind,” it quipped. “A little less gravity, and the swarm ‘flies’ away. They will be safe in orbit—until I need them.” The creature waved its gravity shields, and the Tahnok floated up off the ground. Tumbling and disoriented, their fire flew in all directions. Jala and I ducked behind a rock to avoid their blasts and watched them drift up into the sky, past the clouds.

Then the Kal turned to Toa Tahu, who was so distracted by this display of power that he had momentarily taken his eyes off his adversary. “A little more gravity, and you will be too heavy to interfere.” The red Toa slammed into the ground so hard he sank into the solid rock. “We will find the Bahrag queens you imprisoned, Tahu. Defy us at your peril.” Then the Nuhvok-Kal turned around. As it ambled away, I noticed something on its back. On top of Gali’s Nuva symbol, there was a gray Akaku Nuva!

I nudged Jala, and he nodded. “You stay here with Toa Tahu and help him up. I’ll follow the Kal and see what it does with that mask.” As I whispered to him to be careful, he crept away behind the creature. They both disappeared behind a hill.

I ran to Toa Tahu, who was groaning with pain. I pulled his arm up and dropped it, and it landed with an audible ‘thud.’ I realized I would have to wait until the gravity effect had worn off, so I sat down and wrote in my journal. Now I’m caught up and really bored.

I suppose from Jala’s point of view, storytelling is pretty unimportant. He’s a military leader, and his priority is to create legends, not write them. But to me, it’s everything—mainly because I’m not very good at anything else, and I just happen to have a talent for journalism. Even Turaga Vakama says so, and he is notoriously hard to please. He says it’s as vital to document history as it is to study prophecy. If we don’t learn from the heroism and mistakes of those who have walked before us, we’re stumbling through the dark toward uncertain points of light. So I do what I do best, and follow my calling. I’m not any good at leading the way, but it brings me great satisfaction to know that I can light the way for someone else.

Well, while I was getting all philosophical about that, I heard a terrifying crash, followed by another, and then another. And then I saw a red streak falling in the distance. Apparently it’s raining Tahnok. Now I think I’ve seen everything.

I wonder how Jala is doing. I hope he doesn’t get hit by a falling Bohrok! Is he all right?

I got my answer shortly after I wrote that question. Jala came running back, breathless, about the time Toa Tahu was getting up. Jala reported that the Nuhvok-Kal had hidden the Akaku high on a spire of stone. The creature had levitated itself straight up in the air and then pulled itself onto the narrow, flat top and set down the Kanohi there. It lifted an immense boulder from the ground and guided it into place with its hand shields, then let it drop onto the mask. Then it floated back down and went on its way.

Toa Tahu rubbed his back and looked at the imprint in the rock he had made when he fell. He shook his head at the sight. Then he thanked Jala for the information on the mask. “Let’s go get it. I hope it’s not smashed. Too bad I don’t have a Miru yet.”

We followed Jala to the pinnacle of stone. The sheer height and steepness of the spike were dizzying. Toa Tahu stared at the boulder perched on top, squinting against the afternoon sun. He changed to his Pakari, and I shivered. I hoped he wouldn’t try to jab his swords into the rock again, because that had almost brought disaster last time, and this thing looked too thin to tolerate any cracking.

Fortunately, he seemed to have learned from the past. He picked up a huge rock and hurled it with all his might at the spire. It shattered against the monolith about two thirds of the way up and made a fracture in the stone. Encouraged, Toa Tahu picked up another rock. After several misses and a few more blows, the top third of the pinnacle toppled, and the enormous boulder crashed to the ground. Toa Tahu quickly switched to his Matatu, and as soon as he spotted the Akaku tumbling down, he used the noble mask to pull it out of the way so it wouldn’t be crushed. The Great Kanohi landed in his hand, intact.

“Excellent!” cried Jala jubilantly. “Whoever made those masks sure made them strong.”

Toa Tahu smiled. “Well, at least some good came of that humiliating little incident with the Nuhvok-Kal.” He put on the Akaku and let us see with it as he practiced controlling its power. We saw cracks inside what remained of the spire, and the heat signature of the Kal’s footprints. Then I looked at Toa Tahu and saw some kind of fracture inside his shoulder joint. He noticed me looking, and he put his hand over it. “Don’t worry, that’ll heal,” he assured me. “The Nuhvok-Kal is going to pay dearly, though.”

Once again, we set out for Le-Wahi. The tracks were heading that way, and two Kakama were waiting in the Fau Swamp. Toa Tahu thought perhaps the Kal was seeking them, too. “Although with no Turaga, I’m not sure how they know where the masks are,” he mused. “Come to think of it, I’m not sure how the Turaga know where the masks are, either.” He sighed and led us onward.

Jala looked at me apologetically. “I’m sorry I insulted your profession, Takua,” he said. “If you chroniclers weren’t writing tales about the brave deeds of our warriors, there would be no new legends to guide us in the future.”

“That, and the village fire would be pretty boring. Turaga Vakama would lecture us about duty every night,” I grinned. “It’s all right, Jala. If you warriors weren’t doing brave deeds, I would have nothing to write about.”

He laughed and slapped my back.

We camped in the exact same spot as we did last night. The only difference is that Toa Tahu has a broken shoulder and an Akaku now, and I’m on watch duty. After I was sure the others were asleep, I told Puku to make sure to keep me awake this time.


Summer 1 : 20

This time I actually managed to stay awake on guard duty until dawn. When I woke Toa Tahu, I asked him how his shoulder was doing. He showed me with the Akaku. The fracture was mostly healed. “We are wonderfully built,” he remarked, flexing his arm. It still seemed to cause him some discomfort, but it was nowhere near as severe as the day before. “Except for the part about our powers being tied to those accursed symbols.”

We set out on the trail of the Nuhvok-Kal, who led us once more toward the jungle. I was getting tired of zigzagging between Ta- and Le-Wahi, but at least the creature wasn’t leading us into any tunnels. I was also grateful for Puku, whose gentle gait with her many legs enabled me to take a nice long nap. When I woke, we were passing a beautiful lake. “That’s Lake Pala,” remarked Jala. I admired the shimmering expanse of water, which was the same deep blue as Nixie’s mask. Wild Gukko dove for fish lurking just under the surface, and Ghekula croaked softly in the reeds.

But as we left the lakeshore and returned to the thick woods, the shafts of sunlight filtering through the tree canopy suddenly disappeared. A gloomy darkness settled over the forest like a thick blanket. The birds and insects fell silent. Jala and I looked at each other. “Weird weather,” he shrugged.

Puku started acting really strange. She cringed and scurried behind a rock. “Easy, girl,” I tried to reassure her. Just then a huge bolt of lightning tore through the branches overhead. A short tree right in front of Toa Tahu exploded into flames. The blinding flash was followed by an incredibly loud thunderclap that echoed through the unnaturally still forest.

Jala, Puku, and I jumped about a bio in the air, but Toa Tahu just frowned at the tree. “I wonder if Gali got her powers back and did this just to torment me,” he growled, changing to his Akaku. He scanned the area around us, found nothing of interest, and changed back to his Hau. I was glad, because he invoked his power of shielding to protect us from the flying bits of burning wood that were hitting us.

Oddly enough, this intimidating show of lightning and thunder was not followed by any rain. The dark cloud rolled away as suddenly as it had appeared. I was glad we weren’t going to get wet, but unfortunately, this meant the fire was likely to spread. Toa Tahu pulled his powerless swords off his back and pointed them at the blaze. “In the old days, I could have absorbed these flames into myself,” he muttered in frustration. This time, of course, nothing happened.

Then there was a rustling noise in the underbrush, and Toa Lewa popped out. He hailed Toa Tahu, but the red Toa didn’t notice him. Finally, Toa Lewa grabbed his arm. “Trying to quick-burn the jungle, Fire Toa?”

“Toa of Fire? Toa of nothing! I no longer command the flames, Lewa,” Toa Tahu snapped.

Toa Lewa led Toa Tahu aside as a group of Le-Koronans began shoveling dirt onto the fire. I recognized Tamaru and a few others and greeted them. Puku, naturally good at digging, helped the Matoran extinguish the flames. Then I looked over at the Toa. Toa Lewa was saying, “If you search for something in my lands, then a wayfinder you must have.” Toa Tahu replied that he would be glad to have Toa Lewa’s company, and off they went, using their blades to widen the narrow thread of a path. We Matoran trailed after them, chatting about the events that had happened since we had last seen each other. It turns out that Turaga Matau was so grateful to Tamaru, Kongu, Nuparu, the other Boxor drivers, and me that he had written a special song in our honor. He had been teaching it to the Le-Koro band so they could play it for all of us at a special gathering, but then the Kal showed up.

We came around a clump of brambles and stopped in our tracks at the sight of a huge pile of trees that had been ripped out of the ground and piled across the path. “What could have done this?” asked Lau.

“I don’t know,” said Tamaru. “There are no marks on them.”

“The Nuhvok-Kal,” said Jala, crossing his arms. “That thing is trying to slow us down.”

Tamaru nodded. “Let’s see if we can help the Toa with these.” He and Lau moved to opposite ends of one of the trunks. But as they struggled in vain to lift it, I noticed that Tahu in his Pakari couldn’t even budge one of the pieces of wood. “Don’t bother,” I told them. “The Nuhvok-Kal has enhanced its gravity.”

They looked at me with wide eyes. “Oh. That must be the creature that stole Toa Lewa’s symbol,” said Lau.

“Yes, we’ve been following it from Ta-Wahi,” replied Jala.

The Toa were having some kind of argument about the Kal. “You, of all Toa, should know that,” Toa Tahu was saying.

“No,” replied Toa Lewa angrily. “I did not choose the Bohrok darktime I lived through. I do not know where the Bohrok-Kal are or what they are doing.”

Apparently Toa Tahu suspected Toa Lewa of still having some sort of connection with the swarm, since he had once worn a krana. This struck me as odd at first, because they had traveled together peacefully enough before this. But then I realized the difference. Before this, they had simply been following a trail. Now they were planning some sort of trap. And that required Toa Tahu to trust Toa Lewa, because it was his jungle and he knew his way around. Finally, Toa Tahu backed off, and they began to discuss their plan.

As they talked, Toa Lewa vaulted effortlessly onto the top of the stack of uprooted trees. Toa Tahu scrambled up with some difficulty after him. The fire Toa slid on his face halfway down the pile before he caught himself. He frowned and resumed his climb. They both disappeared over the barrier, their voices receding.

The Le-Koronans took to the trees and used the vines to swing over the fallen trunks. Tamaru saw me staring uneasily at the obstacle that my Toa had almost fallen from, and he offered to launch me and Jala with a sapling. One at a time, we flew up to the top of the pile and grabbed on to stop ourselves. Then we were able to slide down the other side using the vines Tamaru had wrapped around our waists.

The Toa had agreed on a strategy. Toa Lewa told Tamaru to return to the village and bring back as many Matoran as Turaga Matau could spare. Meanwhile, Toa Tahu disappeared into the underbrush, apparently to scout ahead for the Kal. Toa Lewa gathered the rest of us together. “Now we get to use a Bohrok-Kal for target-shoot practice,” he grinned. “Rig as many rock-slings and branch-falls as you can before Tahu returns with an angry-mad Nuhvok-Kal.”

He didn’t have to say it twice. The Le-Koronans, eager to avenge their Toa against the creature whose brethren had once taken over their very minds, scrambled up into the trees to prepare their devices. Lau and Noli asked Jala and me to retrieve some big rocks for the enormous catapult they were preparing out of thick logs, powered by springy pieces of green wood. As we lugged the stones through the forest, we saw Kongu and some others overhead, rigging nets full of wood and rocks that they could release with a quick slash of the knife. Still other Le-Matoran had lifted hollow trunks into the tree canopy to use as flumes to roll heavy rocks onto the Kal.

“You guys have done this before,” remarked Jala to Noli, setting his rock on the heap.

“Yes, we got a lot of branch-trap practice on the Rahi,” replied the Le-Koronan flute carver.

“This looks like fun, shooting at the Kal, but what good is it going to do?” I panted as I dragged a stone toward the pile.

“I think the idea is to overwhelm the thing with flying objects, so it’ll be forced to use its power over and over again,” Jala replied. “It’s really pretty smart.”

We assembled a large pile of stones for Lau and Noli, and then Toa Tahu came back to report where he had found the Kal. “What happens if this doesn’t work, Toa Tahu?” asked Kongu.

“It has to,” he replied.

“It will,” said Toa Lewa. “Now we just have to lure the Nuhvok-Kal to this spot.”

Toa Tahu left to fetch the creature. I looked at Tamaru. “I wonder if he’ll use the same trick you did to get the Nuhvok-Kal’s attention,” I grinned.

Tamaru laughed. “You mean this?” He did his famous mask-waving taunt. “I don’t know, but I hope your Toa is a fast ground-runner. That was fear-scary, being chased by a Bohrok.”

“You have about five minutes to make-ready,” warned Toa Lewa. Everyone scrambled to collect as much ammunition as he could.

Suddenly we heard a loud commotion some distance away, and Toa Lewa hissed at us all to take cover. Trees crashed to the ground, closer and closer. Then, to my utter astonishment, Toa Tahu sailed through the air, let go of a vine, and landed on his feet on the soft earth. The force of his landing, probably enhanced by being in the fringe of the Kal’s power range, drove him to his hands and knees. As Toa Lewa ran to him, he stood up with difficulty and muttered, “Don’t say a word.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” They ran to opposite sides of the clearing as the Nuhvok-Kal approached. Over the sound of its pounding feet, it shouted, “Toa! You cannot escape from the Bohrok-Kal!”

Toa Lewa gave the signal, and the mayhem began. Rocks, branches, and logs flew at the Kal from all directions. The creature pivoted, waving its hand shields at each object, but the sheer number of projectiles was clearly taxing its capacity. Chunks of wood and stone floated upward, but more replaced them as fast as it could keep track.

Toa Lewa leaped at the Kal, but it saw him in time, and he was instantly slammed to the ground next to it. Toa Tahu hesitated only a split second before launching himself. Unlike Toa Lewa, he batted a dozen rocks and sticks before him with his swords first to distract it. As the Kal cleared the air of debris, Toa Tahu changed to his Pakari and hauled his fellow Toa to safety.

The Le-Koronans were starting to run out of rocks, but the first projectiles we had hurled at the Kal were beginning to land again. “Come on!” yelled Jala, rushing out of the bushes to gather an armful of stones. He ducked back into the cover of the leaves and handed them to Kelu, who reloaded his slingshot and fired them again. Others, including me, joined Jala, and flying objects filled the air again.

Finally the Kal seemed to have had enough. It raised its hand shields in exasperation and trotted away, pausing to pull down a few trees behind it.

A loud cheer arose from the green villagers. “We did it!” yelled Kongu. Noli gave Jala a triumphant fist-clank. Tamaru cart wheeled out of his tree and slapped me on the back. We were all jubilant that the danger was past, and that we were able to help our Toa. Like a horde of Kofo-Jaga swarming over a sand Tarakava to drive it from their territory, a lot of small things were able to overcome one big, powerful thing. Turaga Vakama always goes on about the importance of unity, and sometimes I suspect he’s just interested in having fewer squabbles to arbitrate. But there’s obviously a real strength in working as one.

The celebrating was cut short as the remaining rocks and logs regained their normal gravity and tumbled downward, and we ran to join the Toa in another nearby clearing. Toa Lewa was asking, “How can you ground-walk, Tahu, after you have vine-swung?”

Toa Tahu leaned on his magma blades. “I leave the trees to you, brother. And if you ever tell anyone about that, I’ll—”

“Our secret. Heart-swear. But next time, work on that hard-land, brother…”

The two Toa burst laughing. Then Toa Tahu noticed me watching him, and he added, “This better not show up on the Wall of History, either.”

“Of course not, Toa Tahu,” I grinned.

Noli invited us to Le-Koro for a victory party, but Jala replied that we needed to stay with our Toa. Lau offered to fly us back to the Toa tomorrow morning on Gukko-back. But Jala shook his head. “We can’t neglect our duty to the Toa, even for a night,” he insisted.

I found myself wishing my friend didn’t have such a strong sense of duty. But he was right. So I said, “It really sounds like fun, and thanks for asking. We’ll have to take you up on it when all this is over, and we have peace again.”

“All right,” agreed Kongu. “We’ll have several party-feasts to catch up on!”

With warm farewells from the Le-Koronans to cheer us, we set out again after the Toa, who were forging ahead toward the Fau Swamp. Apparently the Nuhvok-Kal was on its way there, too, perhaps to keep them from finding those Kakama. Once in a while we had to scale another log barrier, but Toa Lewa let us use his Miru, so it didn’t slow us much. After a couple of hours, the sunlight was fading, so we set up camp. To everyone’s delight, two Gukko landed next to our fire, and Kongu and Lau unloaded a meal of roast meat and succulent jungle fruits to share with us. As night fell, they flew back to the village, I loaded the leftovers into my pack, and Jala prepared for guard duty.

Wow, I’ve written a lot tonight. And after all that excitement, too! I’m really tired. But somehow I felt like I had to get it all down. Too bad I don’t get this motivated to carve on the Wall. That’s so dreary, compared to this. A dry, boring summary of all the wonderful, amazing events that really unfolded to fill our senses, chipped tediously into the stone one boring letter at a time. This writing-on-paper thing is so much easier. Thank goodness for Nireta the navigator, who found stone tablets too cumbersome for nautical maps! She’s the one who figured out how to pound flax into pulp and dry it nice and flat. Sometime I’m going to have to tell her how much she’s changed my life. Maybe on my way to see Nixie… aww, who am I kidding? Well, anyway, I’m going to sleep.




If you would like to post comments, please do so in my GaliGee's Stories topic.

Edited by GaliGee, Jan 28 2012 - 12:16 PM.

[GaliGee]

Summer 2 : 1

Finally, the full moon! As I write tonight, my lightstone is almost unnecessary. I love it when that silvery orb floods the land with its pale, gentle glow. The light almost looks liquid. It’s as beautiful as water, the loveliest of the elements, but you can immerse yourself in it without getting that unpleasant feeling of being wet.

I flipped back in my book just now and realized that the first night of this trip there was a full moon. So we’ve been all the way around the island in less than twenty days, and tonight we’re next to the Fau Swamp, almost a third of the way. I wonder if the Kal are going to lead us in a circle again.

This morning we set out for the swamp to get those two Kakama. As the jungle thinned, the going got much easier, although we had to watch our step to stay out of wet spots. The Nuhvok-Kal had abandoned its effort to slow us down, probably because there weren’t many trees or big rocks to pile up, and we could just go around them, anyway. After a couple of kios of riding Puku, I put my pack on her and walked beside her, because it was easier than trying to keep my balance as she lurched across the marsh.

Well, Matoran evidently aren’t the only ones to enjoy roast meat and jungle fruits, because soon a huge Kuna surged up out of the muck and lunged at the pack. Puku reared up and snapped at it with her claws. Then Jala dove at the bog snake, whipping out his knife as he grabbed it. They rolled away, and after a brief struggle, Jala rose, dripping with mud, holding up the dead snake in triumph. Puku trotted over and rubbed him appreciatively with her eye stalks. He looked at her uneasily, then patted her head.

I thanked my friend for his brave rescue of my crab. She probably could have defended herself without too much trouble, but it was still really nice of him to do it. “Aw, it was nothing,” he shrugged.

“You should have been built as a Toa,” I remarked.

Jala grinned and gestured at Toa Tahu and Toa Lewa. “You know, following those two around would pretty good training in being a Toa, if it were possible get promoted. Say, do you know how to cook these things?” He handed me the Kuna. I laughed, assured him it would be the best snake he’d ever eaten, and strapped the limp creature to Puku’s back. I had never cooked a Kuna, but how hard could it be? Wrap it around a stick, add a pinch of herbs, sear it over a hot fire… almost anything is good roasted like that.

Jala brushed off some of the slime, and we resumed our journey. But my mind was still lingering on what he had said. I remembered when Toa Tahu had arrived on Mata Nui, bristling with barely-contained power and almost completely clueless as to his purpose. After he freed himself from the trap the Guard had built to ensnare infected Rahi, the first thing he would have done—had Turaga Vakama not knelt in front of him in obvious submission—was incinerate Jala and his troops! He had some instinctive knowledge of his mission, but without any coherent memories, he had to rely on Turaga Vakama to supply information about village life, the Great Spirit and his evil brother, and so on. I promised myself that if we survived to enjoy peace someday, I would ask each Toa about his thoughts and experiences, and add that to the Wall of History. Come to think of it, I’ll ask the same thing of the Turaga. Except that knowing them, they’ll probably leave all the good parts shrouded in mystery.

The two Toa switched to their Akaku and began to scan carefully for masks as they picked their way through the wetland. They stopped at one point, noting that a second set of Kal tracks had joined the first. “Well, at least we aren’t just stuck with that same annoying gravity monster,” remarked Toa Tahu.

“Yes, now we’ll have double the fun-joy,” replied Toa Lewa, rolling his eyes. “I wonder which one it is.” He soon had his answer, as there were random burn marks in the clumps of reeds. Toa Tahu said that maybe it was the Pahrak-Kal, and it was looking for krana. Or Kanohi. They resumed their search. Jala and I helped them look, with the shared mask power.

Presently Jala spotted something, but it wasn’t a mask. It was a krana-kal! He called to the rest of us as he fished around in the swampy water for it. We were all so fascinated that for a moment we forgot to look behind us. Toa Lewa glanced over his shoulder and yelled, “Down-dive!” The Pahrak-Kal was soaring rapidly over the marshy terrain toward us.

Jala, Puku, and I scattered. Toa Tahu turned and activated his Hau, and the creature bounced off the shield. Toa Tahu gripped his swords in his left hand and threw himself onto the Bohrok, and they struggled in the mud, his right hand slipping off the slimy headplate. Toa Lewa jumped into the fray, also groping for the Kal’s krana, but then the Bohrok managed to raise its hand shields and fire a ferocious plasma blast at the ground. Both Toa went flying, along with a considerable amount of muck.

Toa Tahu scrambled to his feet and changed to his Akaku. Crouching behind a clump of reeds, I gasped as I saw the brightly glowing krana-kal right at my feet. I picked it up and tossed it to Toa Lewa, who had landed next to me and was still on all fours. He reached out to grab it. As the Bohrok charged him, he hiked the krana between his legs to Toa Tahu. The enraged Kal tried to pivot but slipped in the mud, landing heavily on top of me. I groaned as it crushed me into the muck, stepping on my back as it struggled to find its footing. Then it used its krana-kal Su to help it leap free of the sucking mud. It dodged Jala's flying disk and headed right for Toa Tahu. Its hand shields fired a focused, searing blast at his chest, and he collapsed into the swamp. The Kal plucked the krana from his hand and ambled away toward higher ground.

I ran to Toa Tahu. He was groaning and trying to sit up. Then Jala called, “Toa Lewa! Look out!”

I looked up. The Toa of Air had put himself squarely in the path of the Pahrak-Kal. And right next to him was the Nuhvok-Kal! Ignoring the Nuhvok, he lunged at the Pahrak with his katana. It tossed the krana to its ally and directed a fiery blast at Toa Lewa. But the Toa sprang up, twisting his body out of the way of the plasma beam. He changed from his Mahiki to his Miru, caught the krana in mid-air, and landed where the phantom Nuhvok-Kal had been standing.

Jala and I stared in astonishment. Toa Tahu staggered toward them and Jala hurled his disk again as the enraged creature, muttering curses and threats, shot another burst of plasma. Toa Lewa dodged it with a back flip. But the Kal anticipated his next move, catching him in the middle of a jump, and the green Toa fell, limp, onto the ground. Once more the Pahrak-Kal took the krana. It hissed, “Your hopes of stopping the Kal are as insubstantial as the illusions with which you torment us. You will regret your impertinence!”

The Nuhvok-Kal was watching from the top of a low hill. It shot a gravity beam at Toa Tahu, Jala, and me, throwing us into the mud. Again. As the two Kal, trotted away, the brown one remarked, “You were right, Nuhvok-Kal. The Toa are arrogant pests. If our mission did not require complete focus, it would be a pleasure to eliminate them from the face of the island.”

The gravity blast had been of relatively low strength—an insult rather than an injury. We pushed ourselves up, ran to Toa Lewa, and asked if he was all right. Toa Lewa rolled over and grinned. “Yeah. Look-see what I almost hard-fell onto.” He held up two Kakama, one nested inside the other. “That plasma-bug was so bluster-mad, it ran right past them without even seeing them.”

Toa Tahu smiled as he accepted one of the Kakama. “Thanks, brother! Now I just have to ask Vakama about the Miru, and I’ll have them all. And at least we made that vermin work for its krana.”

Jala helped Toa Lewa up. We all jumped back as a red blur appeared in our midst, and Toa Pohatu and two Ta-Koronan guardsmen, Jiko and Mekahu, emerged. “Oh, hello, Pohatu,” said Toa Tahu. The guardsmen saluted Jala, and he saluted back.

Toa Pohatu cocked his head. “Nice color scheme, guys,” he quipped. We all looked at each other and ourselves. Every single one of us was covered head to toe with mud, and we were as brown as the Toa of Stone. Toa Lewa started to laugh, and then Toa Tahu and Toa Pohatu joined him, and finally we Matoran did, too.

“We had a bit of Kal hard-luck. But we found these,” explained Toa Lewa, holding up his Kakama.

“Excellent! Now all you need is Gali—with her powers—to clean you up. And maybe she could help with those nasty burns,” said Toa Pohatu sympathetically, pointing to Toa Tahu’s chest. Through gaps in the mud, I could see scorch marks on his ribs.

“I don’t need Gali’s help,” muttered Toa Tahu, his jaw clenched. “I would just as soon never see another drop of water in my life.”

Toa Pohatu stepped back a bit, surprised by the vehemence of the reply. “Well, I can’t say I’m particular to water, either. But speaking of Gali, I found these little fellows heading your direction, so I gave them a ride. They’ve got a message for you.”

Jiko stepped hesitantly forward. “Toa Gali requests that you come help her with something. She didn’t say what it was. She’ll be waiting at the Kini Nui.”

Toa Tahu groaned. “Well, I suppose if I refuse, she’ll say that I’m not a team player.” He looked up at the sky. “I’ve got a Kakama now, so it won’t take me long to get there. So I’d rather rest for a moment, and have something to eat first.” He looked at himself and sighed. “And I suppose I should clean myself up.”

Toa Lewa led us to a part of the swamp where the water was clear. We stepped in and washed off the smelly slime. When we got out, we saw that the guardsmen had started a fire. I opened the muddy pack and removed some of the leftovers from our last meal. Mehaku’s eyes lit up. “I’ve always heard they ate well in Le-Wahi!” he exclaimed. “Now I see the rumors are true.”

Jala smiled at him. “I’ll see that you get put on a jungle detail next rotation.”

“Thanks, Captain,” grinned Mehaku.

Jiko watched me wrap the Kuna around a stick “Are we gonna EAT that?” he asked nervously.

“Sure! It’s meat. Why not?” I laughed. The snake turned out to be surprisingly good. Puku ate an extra helping.

After dinner we rested a bit while the Toa caught up on current events. I told the Ta-Koronans how Jala had killed the Kuna, and they were impressed. Then Toa Tahu got up and stretched. “Well, I’d better get going,” he remarked.

Toa Pohatu and Toa Lewa took their leave, changed to their Kakama, and vanished. The guardsmen left for Ta-Koro, and Jala, Puku, and I prepared to follow our Toa to his meeting with the Toa of Water. I wondered about his repeated grumblings. In the past, he had always been very friendly to her. Whenever the Toa were together, he always managed somehow to end up standing beside her. But ever since they had become Nuva, he was clearly bothered by the very thought of Gali. Was it still this argument about him splitting up the Toa?

As I cleaned and folded my knife, I asked Toa Tahu, “Do you think you and Toa Gali will ever —”

“No!” he snapped.

I cleared my throat and added timidly, “Well, what I was going to say was, will you ever make peace with each other?”

Toa Tahu laughed, embarrassed. “Takua, it doesn’t matter how Gali and I feel about one another. We Toa can’t allow ourselves to have strong emotions about anyone, good or bad, because that would really affect how we work together.”

It seemed to me that he definitely had strong emotions about at least two of the other Toa, and that had already caused some problems. But who was I to tell him how to do his job? I smiled at him instead. “Well, everything is packed.”

“Good.” He switched to his new Kakama. “Let’s go, then.”

Thanks to the Great Mask of Speed, we arrived in a few minutes at the Kini-Nui. It would have taken us the rest of the day to get there without it.

As we slowed down at the edge of the magnificent temple, we heard voices. Toa Gali was saying, “As soon as one other arrives, I will explain.”

Toa Kopaka replied, “Another? Who?”

Toa Tahu vaulted onto the stone platform, and Jala and I scrambled up after him. “It is I, Toa of cold breezes!” he announced cheerfully. “You can go back to your snow fortress. I am sure Gali and I can handle matters.”

“Perhaps,” replied the Toa of Ice, “if all Gali needs is water boiled.”

We Matoran started to laugh at their banter, but as we reached the top and they came into view, we realized from their expressions that it was not in good humor.

“I sent for both of you!” snapped Toa Gali. “Tahu, kindly stop acting like you are Mata Nui’s gift to us all. Kopaka, for a Toa of few words, you never seem to know when to be quiet.”

Jala and I looked at each other and knew what the other was thinking. With the Toa squabbling like this, we’d better just stay out of the way.

Toa Gali informed the others that they were to find some masks, and, in the process, gave them a short speech about unity. “Or do we let our pride do to the Toa what Makuta could not?” she finished.

Toa Tahu and Toa Kopaka frowned at each other for a moment. Finally the Toa of Fire uncrossed his arms and said, “Very well. Lead the way, sister.”

They jumped off the temple platform, and we climbed down after them. Toa Gali set off at a brisk pace toward the saddleback of rugged foothills that separate the Mangai from Mount Ihu. “I wonder why they’re not using their Kakama,” whispered Jala.

“Say, Gali, why don’t we use my Kakama? I happen to have one now,” said Toa Tahu.

“Me, too,” muttered Toa Kopaka.

“I’ve got mine, too, remember?” asked Gali. “But I don’t think it would be wise to use them. Where we’re going, we’re going to need to use caution.”

“Well, there you go,” I whispered back to Jala. He nodded.

“Lewa and I found them together,” continued Toa Tahu. “It was quite an adventure. You see, the Nuhvok-Kal was ahead of us, and we figured it was after the masks, too. So we got the Le-Koronans to help us set up a trap.”

Toa Kopaka groaned and looked away. Toa Gali glanced at Toa Tahu, but she said nothing.

“So, I ran ahead to lure the Kal back into the trap. I jumped right in front of it and waved my swords. It raised its hand shields to blast me, but I was already long gone. Then…”

Well, I won’t repeat Toa Tahu’s whole story, because it was so long-winded, even Toa Lewa would have been impressed. And I just wrote the whole thing down yesterday, anyway.

Finally, Toa Tahu finished his tale. “After that, finding the masks was a simple matter.” I noticed that he left out the part about being thrown into the mud by the Pahrak-Kal and the Nuhvok-Kal. But I wasn’t about to bring it up.

“So you have said,” Toa Gali remarked.

Toa Kopaka called his story “whistling past Makuta’s lair,” an appropriate use for “hot air.” At this point Toa Tahu reached for his swords, and Toa Gali stepped in to stop what could have been an ugly fight. She announced that we had arrived at our destination, anyway.

Toa Kopaka seemed to know this area. He called it the “place of shadow” and explained that even the Bohrok stayed away from it. In my travels I once came to this pass through the mountains. The wind had been unnaturally chilly, and strange patterns of shadow and light had struck fear in my heart. I had quickly moved on my way.

“Perhaps the Matoran should wait for us here,” suggested Toa Gali.

Jala started to object, but I pointed out that Toa Gali could send me a vision if anything noteworthy happened. She smiled and patted my shoulder. “Indeed. There’s no need to endanger yourselves.” I nodded vigorously, and the other Toa agreed. So they set off, hiking up the narrow, winding path while we sat on a rock outcrop to rest.

About half an hour after they left, Puku started to get restless. Then huge storm clouds rolled in. Lightning ripped through the sky, striking some cliffs in the direction the Toa had taken. The rumble of a landslide joined the booming voice of the thunder. Jala sat up with alarm. My sight faded to black for a moment, and then I saw an image of the Toa in their Pakari, desperately batting away huge stones with their tools. Then the vision was over. I shouted to Jala over the noise, and he nodded nervously.

Finally, the storm subsided. “Did they make it?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I replied. We sat in silence for a few minutes.

“I hate not knowing,” he muttered.

I agreed. “It’s almost as unsettling as this place. How about a game of Juma-Juvo?”

Once again, the game took our minds off our worries. We gathered stones and scratched lines in the dirt. Then Jala proceeded to wallop me.

“Takua, you should really think before you move your pieces,” he chided me as he wiped out an entire row of my tokens to finish the game. “If you had put this one over here on your last turn, you could have prevented me from doing this, and you could even have taken that one over there.”

I nodded. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re in charge of the Guard, and not me.”

At this moment, another vision came to me. My relief that the Toa were alive immediately turned to anxiety again as I realized they were standing between two walls of solid flame. They changed to their Kakama, clasped hands, and raced forward through one of them. Then Toa Gali did something really surprising, considering how much she dislikes heat. She turned around and put her hand right into the fire. And even more surprising was the fact that when she pulled it out, it wasn’t burned. “It’s not real. None of it. It’s a trick,” she said. The others tried it, too. “Makuta,” murmured Toa Tahu.

Jala looked at me, wide-eyed, as I related what had happened. “Illusions of the Dark Spirit!” he cried, jumping up. “What are we waiting for? If those things aren’t real, we can follow the Toa!”

“But they told us to wait here,” I protested.

“Come on, Takua. Since when have you started being hesitant to bend the rules?”

“Since I heard that You-Know-Who is involved,” I replied with a shudder. “What if some of that WAS real?”

“Oh, so now you’re wiser than Toa Gali,” he scoffed. “Let’s go! Besides, I’m getting tired of beating you at Juma-Juvo.”

I laughed nervously. “All right. But if we get in trouble, this was your idea.”

“Agreed.” We set off, following the steep, rocky trail. The going was slow and difficult, especially when we reached an area strewn with huge boulders. Jala stooped to study one of them. “I’m no expert on stone,” he remarked, “but it looks to me like these were just broken. Makuta’s illusions are awfully realistic.”

I was suddenly reminded of the time when Toa Pohatu had gotten me to help him shoot rocks at the Nui-Jaga’s nest in the Quarry, the source of the infected koli balls that almost wiped out Po-Koro. I had just been to see Huki, and I was horrified to find the star athlete so weak and feverish, tossing restlessly on his bed. Even in his delirious state, he was more worried about Maku than about himself. Anyway, I stopped to talk to the comet salesman in the Po-Koro marketplace, and I stumbled over a strange object with the water symbol carved on it. It looked vaguely familiar. Then, as I was walking away, I remembered that the statues in the Quarry had keyholes like that. I slipped behind him and took the key. After I managed to unlock Toa Gali’s statue, I crept inside to look around. The horrible stench of infection—just like in poor Huki’s hut—made me realize I was onto something. I almost fainted with fright when a Nui-Jaga skittered out of the shadows and shook its stinger at me. I ran back and told Turaga Onewa, and he must have gotten the message to Toa Pohatu right away, because the Toa of Stone showed up at the Quarry just after I did. It was the first time I had seen anyone use a Kakama, and he startled me almost as badly as the scorpion had.

Well, as everyone has heard, Toa Pohatu got hit in the face with venom right away. But even though he was temporarily blinded, he wasn’t about to give up. In an unexpectedly calm and gentle voice, he asked me to help him aim. I stood behind him, gripping his elbows, and pointed him toward the pillars supporting the nest. I was astonished at the force with which he could kick those rocks. He brought the whole thing down in a few minutes. And then he spoke to me as if I was just as much of a hero as he was. Whenever I feel down or lonely, I think back on how Toa Pohatu inspired me that day. I can only imagine how grateful Huki was to see his smiling mask and hear his words of hope.

Oh, the reason I brought up this little story was to talk about the smell of the fractured stone. The air around Jala and me was full of dust, and it smelled just like it did when the Jaga’s nest collapsed. So I started to have my doubts about this theory that the landslide was an illusion. “You’re right, Jala. These rocks are real! We should turn back.”

“Maybe they are real, but they’re not falling now.” Jala scaled the rocks and kept walking, so Puku and I tagged along behind him.

Sure enough, after we had trekked for a few more kios, we reached the wall of flame. I could feel its warmth as we cautiously approached. “Just keep in mind that it’s not real,” Jala urged me.

“I’m not about to just walk into that thing. I’m going to experiment first,” I said warily. I extended my hand. Waves of heat radiated off the bizarre phenomenon. I clenched my jaw and plunged my fist into it. Immediately a sensation of searing pain enveloped my hand. I yanked it back out.

Jala frowned at me. “You have to believe it’s not real. You can’t test it to see if it is or not,” he explained. “If you have any doubt whatsoever, it’s going to burn you.” He stuck his own hand into the fire and held it there.

I took a deep breath and told myself that if Jala could do it, it must not be real. Then I put my hand back in the flames. It stayed cool. I laughed out loud. “That’s amazing! Makuta’s illusions are only as strong as our fear!”

Puku refused to be convinced. But after I walked into the middle of the wall and stood there, the fire vanished, presumably because there were no sentient beings left that believed in it. Then Puku shook her eye stalks and followed me.

Twilight was enfolding the rocky shapes of the mountain in purple shadows, transforming them into sinister-looking figures. “Should we stop for the night?” I asked Jala. I was looking forward to the security and warmth of a campfire.

“Let’s see if we can catch up with the Toa and camp with them,” he suggested.

We quickened our pace, scrambling over the uneven terrain. I tripped and fell a couple of times trying to keep up with Jala, who is in much better shape from his guard training. Puku offered me her back, so I got on. As Jala disappeared from sight around a large rock outcrop, darkness closed in around me—but not the kind that happens at sunset. This blackness was sudden and complete, as if a thick blanket had been thrown over my head. Puku stopped in her tracks. I caught my breath and clutched her shell.

Cautiously, Puku probed ahead of her with her claw. At least, I think that’s what she was doing, judging by the movements under me. I groped in my pack for my lightstone. Finally I felt it between my fingers, and I pulled it out with relief, expecting a flood of golden light to drive back the darkness.

But the lightstone was a dark, inert rock in my hand. Now I was really scared. “Jala?” I called frantically.

No reply came back. I started to panic. Puku was shuffling slowly ahead, using her claws to feel her way along the path. But all I wanted to do was turn back—if I could figure out which way that was! I clutched the useless lightstone, wondering if Makuta was behind this darkness. He had to be. What else could do this?

Then I could smell smoke drifting toward me. Was the forest on fire? I hoped that the blaze would at least illuminate the way, so I could die in the light. But then Puku lurched sideways around a big rock, and rays of light came around it from the other side. The darkness completely subsided behind me, leaving only the softly muted shadows of dusk.

And right in front of me was the Toa’s campfire. Jala turned and said, “Oh, there you are. Come on over and have some supper, Takua.”

Toa Gali studied me intently as I slid weakly off Puku’s back. “What’s wrong, Chronicler?”

“I, well, there was a strange patch of darkness back there,” I stammered. “Jala, didn’t you see it?”

“No,” he shrugged. “But since you’re afraid of the dark—”

“I’m not afraid of the dark!” I protested. “I just don’t like it.”

Toa Tahu beckoned me with his hand. “Well, come sit by the fire, then, little one. Fire always brings light.”

Toa Gali handed me some dried meat and a cluster of berries, and I nodded my thanks. Famished, I ate the berries in one mouthful. Then I noticed that the Toa were just watching me and Jala eat, and not speaking to each other. Every now and then I would catch Toa Tahu glaring across the fire at Toa Gali, or up at Toa Kopaka, who was sitting high on a rock keeping watch. He didn’t look at anyone. He just gazed off into the distance.

Finally Toa Tahu lay down next to the fire. Toa Gali chose a spot as far away from him as possible. I can see their eyes glowing softly in the dark now, glancing distrustfully at each other from time to time. Whatever they were arguing about before Jala and I showed up must have been pretty serious.

With the uneasy feeling of the place of shadows, and the uncomfortable way the Toa are getting along, I’m not very sleepy, in spite of the long, difficult walk. That’s probably why I’ve filled my journal with so much pointless detail tonight. I guess I’ve been putting off sleep because I’m really afraid I’ll have nightmares about Makuta’s darkness. But that’s a risk I’ve got to take. Now that my nice full moon has been obscured by clouds, I might as well close my eyes, anyway.




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[GaliGee]

Summer 2 : 2

Sure enough, I dreamt of darkness last night. Darkness closing in, suffocating me, and drawing me away into nothingness. Nixie was standing there watching me with a strange look on her face, as if she couldn’t see the darkness, but she knew I was in trouble somehow. She reached out her hand, and I grabbed for it. I felt the cool touch of her fingers as they slipped between mine, and then she was gone.

I sat up with a start, my heart pounding. The sun had just come up and filled the sky with beautiful peach and purple tones. I sighed and looked at my hand, wondering what Nixie’s fingers really felt like.

This morning the Toa were just as moody as the night before. After a quick bite of breakfast, Toa Tahu led everyone wordlessly onward into the shadowy mountains. Although the sun was shining and the sky was radiant overhead, down in the canyon where we walked the light had a pale, bluish cast.

After a short distance, Toa Gali stopped us in front of a carving. I marveled that anyone would spend enough time in this creepy place to complete such a work. There was a group of six large figures, apparently Toa, but they didn’t look like our Toa. Their masks were different, and their bodies, although proportioned the same, had different armor. This puzzled me, because I thought there had only been six Toa throughout all of history. The Toa (the real ones) were discussing how the Turaga might know something about this that we didn’t—for example, the identity of the monster the carved Toa were fighting.

I leaned closer and studied the image of the creature. It was obviously huge and dangerous, a bizarre conglomeration of all the scary things you could think of. I stepped back, glad those Toa of old had been the ones to confront it, and not us.

We resumed the trail as the sun finally drove off the morning chill. Toa Tahu shouted up ahead. As we came around a bend in the path, we saw the Toa standing in front of three Great Masks, set on stakes in the ground.

“This has got to be the easiest Kanohi quest ever,” laughed Jala. “It’s about time our Toa finally got a lucky break.”

But he spoke too soon. As the Toa reached out to grab the masks, the ground fell away beneath them, and they disappeared into a yawning abyss with a great rumble and cloud of dust.

Jala, Puku, and I cautiously approached the edge of the crater and peered through the opaque air. The crevasse went so deep into the earth that we couldn’t see the bottom of it. Jala gave me a worried look. “Well, at least one of those masks was a Miru,” I said, trying to reassure him as well as myself.

Jala looked at the steep sides of the opening and sighed. “I suppose all we can do now is wait until they find their way back here.”

We sat down on a rock, alert to any sounds that might indicate their return. After a while, we heard the sound of footsteps, but it was coming up the mountain from below. We scrambled behind the rock, Puku crouching low with her legs gathered under her shell.

“Ho, little fire-spitters!” called a familiar voice. We raised our heads above the rock to see Toa Lewa approaching in his green Akaku. He changed back to his mask of levitation. “This crazy thing makes me double-see if I use it too long.”

“Hello, Toa Lewa,” greeted Jala.

“What are you sight-seeing up here for?” asked the Toa of Air, sitting down on the rock next to us. “There are much more pretty-bright places to travel on Mata Nui.”

We explained what had happened. Toa Lewa changed back to his Akaku and studied the hole in the ground, evidently finding nothing of interest. “Odd-strange,” he remarked. “I came here to find my last power-mask, too. Turaga Matau warned me this place was full of dark-fear surprises. I think I’ll take a different way-path. Care to come along?”

“We should probably stay here,” suggested Jala. “The others will look for us here.” The green Toa cheerfully took his leave, passing around the hole and continuing up the mountain.

A few minutes later we heard another rumbling sound. “Oh, no!” cried Jala. “What if Toa Lewa has fallen, too?”

“Well, we know HE has a Miru,” I sighed.

“Let’s go see if he’s all right,” urged Jala. We followed the trail a little further up into the hills, and sure enough, we found another giant hole in the ground. “Toa Lewa?” called Jala frantically, but there was no response.

“Such interest in the earth,” mused a low voice behind us. We spun to see Toa Onua standing there. Toa Pohatu walked past us over to the hole and looked down.

Jala recounted what had just happened. “Watch your step,” he cautioned.

“We will,” promised Toa Onua, joining his brown brother at the edge of the abyss. “Especially Pohatu, with those big feet.”

Toa Pohatu punched his arm. “You’re such a featherweight that you won’t have any trouble,” he grinned. “But seriously, we’ll be careful. Turaga Onewa told me this was treacherous ground. As soon as we find our masks, we’ll be—”

“There.” The Toa of Earth pointed ahead to two Kanohi, on stakes as the others had been.

“Will you look at that!” Toa Pohatu exclaimed, striding over to the masks.

“Wait!” shouted Toa Onua. “Let’s not fall for the same trick.” He changed to his Matatu, and the masks drifted off the stakes toward him and Toa Pohatu. As their fingers touched the Kanohi, the ground shook and fell away from under them with a deafening roar. Jala and I jumped back against the rocky cliffs, panting in panic. The stakes remained, untouched, where they had been.

“Well, whoever it is must just want the Toa,” I breathed.

Jala nodded. “Do you suppose we could somehow...”

I leaned over the edge, then backed away. “No way,” I said. “It’s too steep. But they’ll think of something,” I said anxiously. “The Toa are very resourceful.”

“Indeed they are,” said a calm voice. Turaga Vakama was making his way up the mountain toward us. “We shall now see just how resourceful, I believe.”

“Turaga Vakama!” said Jala with surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” said the elder, leaning on his firestaff, “I heard from your scouts that Gali had called Tahu to this place, and I was anxious to see the outcome.”

If Turaga Vakama was anxious, it was surely a bad sign. “Do you know what’s down there?” I asked.

“I’m afraid I do. And I’ve got to get down there and find them before it does.” He stood up straight again and began to hike rapidly up the mountain.

“But they’re—” Jala began.

“Sometimes you must go up to go down,” quipped the Turaga enigmatically. “Just as sometimes you must fall before you fly.”

We sat quietly for a little while. “Wisdom baffles me,” I finally said after Turaga Vakama had disappeared from sight.

“Do you think that thing on the carving—” But Jala’s words faded from my consciousness as a vision from Toa Gali unfolded in my mind. And there, in front of her, was the thing on the carving.

Words just can’t describe how horrible that thing was. It looked like the worst bit of every Rahi, combined into one immense, snarling nightmare. With Muaka claws, a Kane-Ra head, Rama wings, Tarakava fists, and a Jaga stinger, it looked like it could kill you in several different ways without much effort.

And then we heard its roar. I heard it in the vision, but later Jala told me he heard it coming up through the ground as well. It was a scream of untamed rage, ringing through the caverns that contained it. And through Toa Gali’s eyes, I saw that the Toa were trapped in the chamber with it. In the gloom, I saw a dim red glow—Turaga Vakama’s firestaff.

The Turaga was apparently the focus of the beast’s attention. It stared at him until Toa Tahu stepped in front of him and shouted a challenge. The animal charged, its head lowered, and slammed against his protective shield. The Toa of Fire flew backwards, and Toa Onua cushioned his impact by putting himself between his red brother and the wall. They both tumbled to the ground.

Toa Lewa attempted to create a vacuum around the creature with his Kakama, but it tripped him and sent him sprawling. I gasped as Toa Gali narrowly avoided the vicious stinger with a back flip. But this apparently all this gave Toa Kopaka an idea, and the Toa soon began to follow his plan of distraction and movement. The enraged creature bellowed again as Toa Pohatu’s climbing claws brought stalactites down on its head.

Jala says that the earth was shaking during this whole fight. The Toa used their Pakari to send shock waves through the stone floor of the chamber, and the beast was getting more and more angry. But the Toa were getting tired, and no end was in sight. Then Turaga Vakama began to bait the Rahi with words. He reminded it of the last time they had fought, calling it slow-witted.

Last time they had fought? I had barely begun to consider the implications of these words from our frail old Turaga when he added, “Did your master abandon you... or is he the reason you are here?”

Well, at this point something happened that is going to give me nightmares, for sure. A big pair of glowing red eyes appeared on the wall. And a voice that chilled me to the core said, “It has not been abandoned, Vakama. It has been waiting for your return.”

I recognized that voice. I’ve only heard it once, when the Toa defeated Makuta and Toa Gali’s visions from Mangaia stopped, and I went down there to watch the fight. And I’ll never forget it. It’s the sound of grinding stone and cold despair, all rolled into one voice. Slow, deliberate, icy words, chosen to take the heart of anyone foolish enough to consider himself brave.

The voice promised, “You cannot stop the darkness from falling, Vakama. No one can.”

“We can, and we shall!” argued Toa Tahu.

Makuta made him a deal. “Defeat my Rahi, and you may leave this chamber. Fail, and Mata Nui is mine!” And then the eyes vanished.

Turaga Vakama told the Toa to run while he distracted it. They reluctantly agreed, Toa Tahu and Toa Gali staying in the mouth of the tunnel to wait for him. Turaga Vakama taunted the creature some more until it rushed toward him in a blind rage. Using his Huna, he vanished at the last moment. The beast slammed into the wall so hard its horns became embedded deep in the stone. Thrashing and clamoring, it struggled to pull itself free. Turaga Vakama joined the Toa and led them toward the surface, and the vision was over.

Jala was leaning over me. “What happened, Takua?” he asked nervously.

“The Toa won,” I panted. “Well, actually, Turaga Vakama did. He defeated that creature on the carving.”

Jala’s eyes were wide as throwing disks. “You’re kidding me!”

“No, I’m not.” I recounted the whole story to him.

Soon the Toa and Turaga Vakama came walking around a bend up ahead. They greeted us solemnly. “Come along, little ones,” invited Toa Tahu, leading us down the mountain.

A few minutes later, we heard a muffled roar. It was the beast, which Turaga Vakama called the Rahi Nui, still hollering in frustration. “It will free itself from the wall eventually,” he remarked, “but it still won’t be able to get out of that chamber.”

The campfire conversation tonight was quite lively. We descended to a flat area below the place of shadow and built a roaring fire. Turaga Vakama went on to Ko-Koro to meet with Turaga Nuju, but the Toa stayed to confer on plans to confront the Kal. All of them had opinions about the strange events they had just witnessed.

“The Turaga are definitely holding back,” muttered Toa Tahu angrily. “They owe it to us to explain what’s going on. How can we fight the perils that menace the Matoran if we don’t know what has gone before?”

Toa Onua was more philosophical. “I share your frustration, Tahu. But we have to trust the Turaga. They have always revealed critical information before we’ve needed it.”

“For once I agree with you, Tahu. But let’s not worry about that now,” suggested Toa Kopaka. “What we really need to be discussing is how to defeat the Kal and get our powers back.”

Toa Pohatu asked, “We all have our masks, right?” Everyone nodded.

“Who has seen the Kal lately?” asked Toa Gali.

Toa Lewa groaned. “Last time I saw one of those power-bugs, it was that Tahnok. Zapped me good, too. I was jiggle-buzzing for about half an hour.” I glanced at Jala, who winced at the memory.

The Toa drew a map in the dirt and plotted the locations where the Kal had last been seen. “Direct attacks are obviously futile. Our best attempts have used the element of surprise on one or two of them,” Toa Kopaka pointed out. “We should split up and search for them.”

“I think we should stay together,” said Toa Gali firmly. “The six of us might be able to waylay a small group of them and take a couple of symbols back.”

“True,” replied Toa Lewa. “But the other three or four could be wake-rousing the Bahrag while we do that. We have to keep an eye-watch on them all.”

“Let’s at least figure out where they all are first. And while we’re at it, maybe we can keep them from finding all their krana-kal,” added Toa Onua. “They seem to be as intent on doing that as they are on finding the Bahrag.”

The Toa decided to split up and track down all the Bohrok-Kal. If they saw any of the enemy heading for the Bahrag lair, the Toa agreed to use their Kakama to warn the others. Then they would converge on the lair and do whatever they could to stop the creatures from waking the Bahrag.

“How?” asked Toa Gali, skeptical.

“We’ll figure that out when we get there,” shrugged Toa Tahu. “We’ll find a way.”

Everyone went to sleep encouraged by Turaga Vakama’s victory, and by the plan. As nebulous as it was, at least it gave us some hope for the future.

I volunteered for guard duty, so here I sit writing. The last thing I want is more nightmares about the evil one. Since I’m at the end of the day’s events, I’m going to take a quick walk around the campsite to keep myself awake.


Summer 2 : 4

The Toa have defeated the Kal! And they have their powers back! Matoran, rejoice! Let’s hope our newfound peace lasts a bit longer than last time.

Heh… that’s not much of a journal entry, is it?

All right, I’ll add some more detail. After all, I like being long-winded. That is the way of the Chronicler.

Last night Toa Tahu brought us home with his Kakama. Toa Tahu, Jala, and I told Turaga Vakama and the Ta-Koronans how the Toa won as we sat around the fire last night. Afterwards I was so tired that for the first time since I’ve owned this journal, I went right to sleep without writing anything. But today when I woke up, the sun was already halfway across the sky. It felt great to sleep in! I had nothing pressing to do other than poke Jala until he woke up, get something to eat, and write in my book. Jala went back to bed after lunch.

The whole village is preparing for a big victory party tonight. Since Jala and I have been all over the island and are completely exhausted, no one is expecting us to do anything. At some point I need to carve all this into the wall of history. I’ll start tomorrow. Or maybe the next day.

But before I forget, here’s what happened yesterday.

In the morning, right after breakfast, the Toa split up to find the Bohrok-Kal again. The plan was for each to head toward his own Wahi. Jala, Puku, and I were to stay at the Kini-Nui, where the Toa could easily find us, and relay reports of the whereabouts of the Toa and the Kal.

Toa Tahu walked up a high hill and scanned the horizon with his Akaku. When he had confirmed there were no Kal in sight, he changed to his Kakama, and we raced to the great temple. I set my pack on the steps and sat down. Jala climbed up the platform to take a lookout post.

Toa Tahu smiled at us and turned to go, but then we heard a noise in the bushes. I was really glad he hadn’t left yet, because out of the undergrowth emerged the sinister figure of the Lehvak-Kal.

Toa Tahu changed to his Hau and gripped his swords. “Well, you can tell the others where the Lehvak-Kal is,” he said grimly. “Minus one krana-kal, if I have anything to do with it.” He charged his foe.

“You won’t,” scoffed the Kal. It raised its hand shields. Suddenly the air started to whistle past us, drawing us toward the creature. Jala, Puku, and I tumbled down the steps of the temple. Toa Tahu changed to his Pakari and jabbed his swords into the ground, but they were pulled back up like two tent stakes in a tornado.

Just as the Toa of Fire was about to slam into the Kal, it reversed the flow, dashing us all against the base of the temple. The Bohrok-Kal rummaged in the bushes for a moment, then placed a new krana under its head plate. It turned and trotted away.

Jala and I groaned and sat up slowly, but Toa Tahu jumped to his feet. He changed to his Kakama and raced into the woods. After a few minutes we heard the whoosh of a strong wind, and some crashing sounds. There was silence for a while, then more noises further away.

As I gathered the food which had spilled out of my pack, I said, “How long is he going to harass that thing? He’s just getting beat up, and it’s not doing any good.”

Jala shook his head. “Maybe not, but he’s determined to keep trying. Perhaps he’ll get lucky and the Kal will make a stupid mistake. If he doesn’t try, he has no chance whatsoever of succeeding.”

“Good point. I guess that’s why he’s the protector of our village.”

“Yep,” Jala agreed. “Being big and strong isn’t what makes Toa Tahu a hero. It’s his character. A hero never gives up.”

We played a game of Juma-Juvo to pass the time. After Jala had trounced me, he started asking me about my journal. “What do you write in that thing, anyway?”

“Oh, all kinds of stuff. Things to put on the Wall of History. And random thoughts and observations.”

“Read me some of it,” he suggested.

I flipped open my journal and read him an entry. It was the one where he taught the Toa some hand-to-hand combat techniques. He smiled at me. “Is that going to go onto the Wall?”

“Sure,” I replied. “The Toa aren’t the only heroes on Mata Nui.”

Jala laughed. “Just doing my job.” But I could tell he was really proud.

Around mid-morning Toa Gali appeared, her gray mask grim with fatigue and worry. “I’m following the Kohrok-Kal,” she informed us. “I found it over by the Hura-Mafa River delta. And my head still feels like it’ll explode from the sound.” She touched the side of her head gingerly with her hand. “Now it’s moving toward Le-Wahi.”

“Toa Tahu was fighting the Lehvak-Kal,” Jala told her. “They were headed the same way.”

Toa Gali nodded. “At least they’re moving away from the Bahrag lair. I’m going to warn Lewa that it’s coming.” She vanished in a blue blur.

Soon Toa Onua showed up to report that he had found the Tahnok-Kal in the jungle on the way to his Wahi. Before he left again, Toa Pohatu appeared. He told us he hadn’t found any Kal in his region yet. Then he offered to help Toa Onua with the Tahnok. “I have a great idea,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “Come on, I’ll explain as we go.” The two dark Toa left again.

Toa Lewa swung out of the trees and landed in the clearing with a thud. “I track-found the Gahlok-Kal,” he announced to us. “It stuck-fixed my katanas to a rock and got ahead-past me while I was hard-pulling them off, so I’m not sure where it is now—somewhere in my Wahi. Gotta go!” He jumped up, grabbed a vine, and was on his way.

Then Toa Tahu appeared again. “I just saw Lewa and told him where the Lehvak-Kal is. I’m going back to Ta-Wahi to make sure there aren’t any more Kal there.” He headed for the region of fire.

About noon, Toa Kopaka passed by the temple. He was pursuing the Pahrak-Kal, which was leading him toward Ta-Wahi. We told him what the others were doing. He scratched his head thoughtfully, and then his eyes lit up. “Gali and Lewa are in Le-Wahi? I think I’ll leave the Pahrak-Kal for Tahu.” He streaked away into the jungle. It’s always hard to tell what Toa Kopaka is thinking, but Jala and I guessed that he had just come up with a really good idea. Later on we found out what it was.

Toa Tahu returned from Ta-Wahi, blackened with burn marks. “After the Pahrak-Kal blasted me, it stopped what it was doing very suddenly and started walking this way again. I think it might have gotten a signal from another Kal.” He sat wearily on the bottom step of the temple. “What are the others doing?”

Jala explained that three Toa were in Le-Wahi with three of the Kal, and two were in the jungle in the direction of Onu-Wahi with one Kal. The fifth Kal was the one Toa Tahu had just seen.

“So no one has located the Nuhvok-Kal,” sighed Toa Tahu. “Maybe it’s the one that signaled the Pahrak. It could be digging its way down to the Bahrag right now! Could it be time...” His voice trailed off and his eyes grew distant.

“Time for what?” I asked.

Toa Tahu sighed enigmatically. Later on, of course, we found out what he was talking about, too. “I’ve got to get everyone together. I’m going to Le-Wahi to look for the Toa there. When Onua and Pohatu show up, please send them after me.”

As soon as he left, my eyesight went black, and I started getting a vision from Toa Gali. I saw her standing with Toa Lewa and Toa Kopaka in the jungle in front of the Lehvak-Kal. Then something amazing happened. The Toa began to pull themselves apart, first with their hands and then using their Matatu. The pieces levitated into place and began to assemble themselves into a giant being. As soon as he had hands, Wairuha snapped the last parts into place and put on his Miru Nuva. He looked very different from the Wairuha I had seen fighting Makuta’s Manas. With no elemental powers, he was not at full strength, but since the Toa’s bodies got stronger when they became Nuva, he was still an impressive sight to me. The Toa Nuva Kaita of Wisdom flexed his mighty arms and faced his foe.

Apparently he didn’t impress the Bohrok-Kal much, though. The Lehvak whistled, and the Gahlok and Kohrok appeared and formed their own Kaita. It was really scary—a bulky thing, bristling with three kinds of hand shields. It fired a ferocious blast of combined power at Toa Nuva Kaita Wairuha. It wasn’t long before the three Toa were thrown out of the Kaita, who was unable to sustain his unity at the brunt of such intense energy.

As I finished relating this story to Jala, Toa Onua and Toa Pohatu emerged from the jungle, talking rapidly. When they saw us, we told them Toa Tahu wanted to get everyone together. They brought us along, using their Kakama in short bursts for safety, and we headed for Le-Wahi. A Le-Koronan sitting in a tree picking fruit told us where to find Toa Tahu, adding that he had seen the other three not long before.

As we walked, Toa Pohatu and Toa Onua managed to thoroughly annoy the impatient Fire Toa by promising him a story as soon as they found the others. But to his credit, Toa Tahu forced himself to keep his cool. Finally we stumbled onto the Wairuha group. Toa Lewa started in on a lengthy, detailed description of the fight with the Kal Kaita, but Toa Kopaka cut him off and summarized it thus: “We merged into Wairuha. Three Bohrok-Kal formed their own Kaita. They beat us.”

Toa Lewa echoed my thoughts that Toa Kopaka would not make a very good Chronicler. But of course he’s an awesome hero, so no one expects him to be.

Then Toa Pohatu told (with considerably more detail) about the encounter he and Toa Onua had just had with the Tahnok-Kal. For the first time, they actually succeeded in yanking the krana out of a Kal! They had taken a round stone and polished it to a brilliant sheen. Toa Onua jumped out in front of the creature and taunted it. Then Toa Pohatu kicked the shiny ball right in front of the Kal as it fired at his brother. The electrical energy was reflected off the surface of the stone, hitting the tree behind the Bohrok, which fell onto it with a crash. As the Kal writhed to get free, the Toa jumped in and grabbed its krana.

Three things really impressed me about this story. The first was how ingenious the plan was. They had figured out an amazing way to use the Kal’s own power against it. The second was how much trust Toa Onua had, to dance in front of such a powerful enemy while Toa Pohatu lined up the shot. The third was the amount of precision it must have taken to kick that ball—just the right angle and speed to put it in front of the Kal, deflecting the blast away from Toa Onua and hitting something as narrow as a tree trunk. I suppose this combination of clever thinking, total trust, and dead-on accuracy were the reasons why their scheme actually worked, whereas the Toa had failed so many times before.

But unfortunately the krana told them it was too late. It must have been really creepy to see a krana speak, much less to hear the news it was telling. As Toa Tahu had guessed, the Kal had learned where Cahdok and Gahdok were trapped. Worse yet, the two Toa turned around to find that the Tahnok-Kal had vanished. Apparently a Va had resupplied it while they were talking to the captured krana. Then Turaga Nokama told them the Bohrok had received some sort of signal and were marching back to their nests.

The Toa picked up their pace. As they walked, they discussed the problem of getting into the lair, which had been blocked with rocks, and decided they would have to use their new Kanohi somehow. And then there was the question of how to stop the Kal. Toa Kopaka finally spoke, reminding the others of the Exo-Toa armor they had used to fight the Bahrag before. It had hindered their elemental powers, but of course that was no longer an issue at this point. With renewed hope, the Toa changed to their Kakama, and we raced to the tunnel opening.

To everyone’s amazement, the rocks had been blasted away. Actually, it wasn’t much of a surprise, considering what the Kal were capable of doing, but we were startled nonetheless. Mostly, it gave us an uncomfortable warning that the creatures were already well on their way to their goal.

The Toa agreed that Toa Lewa, the stealthiest of the six, would go down into the tunnel to investigate. It was a long, nervous, uncomfortable wait. The others exchanged anxious glances and paced restlessly on the surface until he popped back up out of the opening so abruptly that we all jumped.

In his tangled treespeak, Toa Lewa related that the Exo-Toa were still down there in the lair, and they were fighting the Kal—on their own! Mere machines had somehow reacted to the potential danger. I remember hearing Toa Tahu remark at one point that the armor had responded uncannily well to his commands, almost as if it was learning from him. Perhaps when it sensed the proximity of the same set of intruders, it started following its occupants’ last orders. But sadly, it was getting torn apart by the overwhelming destructive power of the Bohrok-Kal.

Well, the Toa lost no time getting down there. Now Jala and I paced on the surface, waiting for the news, good or ill. Puku could sense my worry, and she whimpered fearfully until Jala yelled at her to shut up.

If anyone ever reads this journal besides me, he already knows that the Toa won, so I won’t drag out the suspense here. But I have to say that we were truly terrified. The thought that the mighty Exo-Toa armor, the last hope of the powerless Toa, was getting ripped to pieces before they could even get into it was really discouraging. We expected swarms of devastating mechanical drones to erupt out of the ground at any minute, signaling the final defeat of the brave heroes of Mata Nui. Soon every natural feature and every life form we depended on for food and building materials would be leveled, incinerated, flooded, or buried—and it was doubtful we Matoran would even survive long enough to see our world come to a cataclysmic end.

“Takua,” Jala began, “whatever happens here, I just want you to know that you’ve really been a great friend. I never thought a half-crazed, daydreaming wanderer would—”

His voice faded out as Gali’s vision filled my mind. I saw the Toa arrayed around the Kal, who were inserting the Toa’s symbols into a glowing cube in the middle of the chamber. The Kal were ranting about how they would unlock the prison and allow the mission to resume—apparently the symbols served as some kind of key. The Bahrag, half-hidden in shadow, were already crowing joyously at the prospect of their freedom.

The Toa’s masks were twisted with tension and anguish. But then Toa Tahu’s began to change, into a shape I had never seen before. It covered half his face, with holes in both sides, and a bright orange color. I watched in astonishment as he declared, “I call on the Great Mask of Time.”

Well, the other Toa were as surprised as I was, but there was no time to ask questions. The Kal’s movements became slower and slower until they seemed almost frozen in time. The Toa rushed forward to retrieve their symbols. But a silvery shield still managed to form around the Kal, and they couldn’t approach, despite Toa Tahu’s obvious strain at wielding such incredible power. Toa Onua hurled a rock at the Kal, and it bounced harmlessly off the shield

Our heroes seemed to lose all hope at this point. Even with an unheard-of new power at their disposal, they couldn’t seem to prevent these creatures from moving, ever so slowly, toward their goal of releasing the Bahrag queens. But then Toa Gali’s voice, clear and positive, broke the ominous silence. “If the essence of our power is housed in those symbols, maybe we can use that against the Bohrok-Kal!”

I was as confused as Toa Tahu, who seemed to need all his extra strength just to ask a one-word question: “How?”

Toa Gali explained that maybe they could reach out to their symbols and send the power into the Kal, overloading them with energy. Since it was the only thing anyone could think of, they surrounded the Bohrok and held up their arms. Soon a surge of power was circulating among the creatures. It was working! But would it defeat them, or simply give them twice as much destructive energy with which to ravage our island?

It’s hard to describe what happened next, exactly. Lots of blasting and flashes, mostly. The Kal started to glow strangely, as they gloated over their newfound power. But it was tearing them apart. The Bahrag snarled angrily, calling them fools. And, indeed, it was clear they had failed in their mission. The Gahlok-Kal got clobbered by flying pieces of Exo-Toa armor as its magnetic force became too great for it to control. The Kohrok-Kal reduced itself to a quivering pile of parts with its overwhelming sonic energy. The Pahrak-Kal melted through the floor and fell to some uncertain doom deep inside the earth. The Nuhvok-Kal imploded, its inexorable gravity pulling itself into a tiny speck of dense matter that followed the Pahrak down into the floor. The Tahnok-Kal was trapped in its own web of lightning, shorting out its own control circuits until its dazed krana tumbled out and it lurched to a lifeless halt. And the Lehvak-Kal’s vacuum pulled it upward, shooting it through the roof of the cave.

At this point I woke to see Jala shaking me. “Takua! Look!” he gasped, pointing up into the sky. “It—it—”

I followed his finger and saw a tiny dot disappearing into the clouds. “The Lehvak-Kal?” I asked, and he nodded. There was a jagged hole a few bios away from us where it had roared out of the ground. Puku was hiding behind a rock.

I quickly told Jala what had happened. He leaped for joy and gave me a big hug. I squeezed him like I would never let him go. Puku ran over and licked us both.

The top of an ice staircase appeared inside the hole, and soon the Toa were climbing out, blinking in the brilliant sunshine. They sank to the ground with relief. Toa Gali turned around to look at us. “Chronicler! Jala! We did it!” she exclaimed. “Did you get my vision?”

“I saw it,” I grinned. “You Toa were amazing!”

“It was Gali’s idea,” said Toa Kopaka, looking at her admiringly. I stared at him for a moment, because I had never seen that expression on his mask before.

“The Bohrok-Kal are defeated. The Bahrag are still imprisoned. And the Bohrok swarms are asleep in their nests again. A job well done!” proclaimed Toa Pohatu.

“But we have never come closer to defeat, Pohatu,” added Toa Gali thoughtfully. “I think perhaps we all have a great deal to think about.” She glanced uneasily at Toa Tahu, whose bright red Hau Nuva had replaced the powerful mask he had used a few minutes before.

Toa Tahu agreed. “Of course. I think we’ve finally learned our lesson.”

Everyone guessed at the lesson. I thought Toa Lewa’s guess was most accurate: “Only bad-yuck things happen underground.” But of course Toa Tahu meant that with unity, duty, and destiny at the forefront of their minds, the Toa Nuva were capable of overcoming any threat to the safety of our beloved island.

Well, there’s the moral of the story. Now, I’m going to get some sleep before the party tonight. Because I don’t want to nod off while I’m telling Nixie all about this stuff. I’ll probably find plenty of other ways to embarrass myself without that happening.


End of Part I




Part II: Peacetime
If you would like to post comments, please do so in GaliGee's Stories or the review topic for Part II.

Edited by GaliGee, Feb 10 2012 - 01:58 PM.