I assume that you came upon this tablet in some manner of purchase, or perhaps you found it. It doesn't really matter though, you now have it and I do not. If you wish to see a cheerfully written tale, then I am afraid that I must advise you to look elsewhere, as you will find no cheer, no joy, no happiness here. But it is not written to be a tale of adventure and excitement, but to act as a reminder. I don't wish to fade away into history, as though I never existed... I want to be remembered. Even if only by a single person... I just don't want my life to have been wasted. I want to have at least something about me live on. So I write this history of my life, so that I may be known, even if by then all memory of my species has faded completely, at least these words I write will continue on after my death.
My name, you may be wondering... is not really all that important. It has no real meaning anymore, it only shows me how far this world has fallen. I am from a species that thrives in the darkness and shadows, who created much and never received the praise that they had worked so hard to earn. I am a member of the Brotherhood of Makuta, or I suppose that I was. Now that name, like my own, has little meaning to me, a piece of the past that I will never see again. But once, I was a part of that alliance of my brothers and sisters. We were to create the Rahi that were needed by the Matoran, though some of us went beyond that to create rather... monstrous beasts. I myself was never truly interested in creating creatures, my brothers created enough of those without me being required to do so. Life lacked interest to me, there were things that I found far superior. I was more interested in pure machines, that lacked the organics and will of a living being. Weapons... they were what I spent my time on, and nothing has ever been able to compare to the thrill of working with lifeless objects of death and destruction.
I suppose this may be boring to you who wish for a tale of action. For that, I must apologize. This was never written to be a story to grab and hold you attention along on an adventure of excitement and wonder. This is my life... these are the horrors that my brothers and sisters were subjected to... what I too was subjected to. This is a story of misery and sadness, of lost hope and suffering. This is me.. and the torment of suffering I have faced.... and likely always will.
My name is Makuta Kyrack, and this depressing tale is the story of my life... and of my hatred.
Edited by Pyrrhon, Apr 25 2012 - 08:23 AM.