ZOMBI3S

Chapter 6 - Visions Takua looked around. Everywhere around him was the stench of death. He was in the middle of a ghost town, blackened, charred, and burning. Smoke rose from the scorched earth as he stood and looked around. Moving to the closest standing building, he peered into a hole that was once a window. The darkness revealed nothing. Moving to the door, he gave it a strong kick and it fell, exposing the inside to the red light that shrouded everything. A child sat in the corner of the room. Beaten and bruised, tears fell down her face as Takua walked up. She curled up into a ball, exposing horrible burns all over her legs. “What happened here?” Takua asked. The child cried out as she sprung up from the ground and ran past Takua, disappearing into a doorway at the other end of the barren room. Confused, Takua cautiously followed, cocking his head sideways to peer through the opening. A long hallway stared back at him, burnt and smoldering, but the child was nowhere to be found. He walked into the hallway, coughing as the toxic air ripped at his lungs. His eyes began to tear, blurring his vision. He wiped them, looked back up, and suddenly there was a figure standing in front of him, staring into Takua's eyes. “Isn’t it wonderful?” the figure asked. Takua opened his mouth and tried to speak. He barely managed to choke out the words. “What happened to this place?” “The destruction feeds him. It helps him grow strong.” “Who are you?” The figure disappeared, and Takua was left alone. Then, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and fear coursed through his body. Someone moved behind him, and he heard a voice whisper in his ear. “My name is Saku.” Brriiiing! "Aah!" Takua screamed as he jolted up, smacking his head on the notorious shelf. "Mata Nui!" he cried out as he began to spout various colorful curses. Holding his head, he swung his legs over the side of his bed and planted them on the floor. He smacked the top of his alarm clock, and finally, the horrible noise stopped. Sitting there, he gingerly caressed his forehead and wiped the sleep from his eyes. He'd forgotten why he had set the alarm. Oh yes, he remembered. Work. As he had arrived home last night he decided he would work his last day with Raipu so he could collect his paycheck. It was a horrible thing to do, waking up before six o'clock, but he really needed some cash. The nightmare still in the back of his mind, he performed his daily morning ritual. Grabbing the necklace off his nightstand, he slung the chain around his neck, and in less than ten minutes, he was out the door. The sun was just below the horizon, although its rays wouldn't do much good, as it was a cloudy day. Making his way through town, Takua saw the very beginnings of the day's business, something he rarely saw. All of Le-Koro's early birds were up and about, buying breakfast and opening their shops. They all seemed so happy to be up before the sun, ready to start a new day. Freaks. Takua thought to himself. He was still pretty groggy. He turned onto a street that was, much to his delight, fully asleep. A single streetlight at the other end was the only source of light for the cobblestone road. Grumbling to himself about how no one should have to be up while streetlights were still needed, Takua looked up to see a figure standing underneath the far off yellow glow. The figure watched Takua. It was tall, black, and it's mask: like a serpent. "You!" Takua cried out, remembering it from the day before. "Hey!" But the figure stared at him, not saying a word. He ran toward the light, but as he got closer, the shadowy being backed away, disappearing out of sight entirely. Takua slid to a halt next to the streetlight, peering into the dark, looking for him. "Come back!" he called out to the shadows. "What do you want from me? I have questions!" Suddenly, he felt two cold hands place themselves on his shoulders from behind. Their touch froze him with fear. “Do you remember me, Takua?” he heard, quiet, yet menacing, in his right ear. Slowly, Takua turned his head to get a glimpse the being. “Who...who are you?” he stammered. “It's me, Saku." Takua froze, remembering his dream. As quietly as he had come, the figure once again disappeared into the shadows. He stood there, unsure of what to do. One thing was for sure, he didn’t want to leave the comfort of the streetlight. But he couldn’t stay here. Willing up his strength, he tore off through the black street. He sprinted as fast as he could through the dark abandoned streets as his fears flashed through his head. Was the being, this Saku, following him? He ran until his lungs felt as though they would burst, but he willed himself to keep going. Finally he broke out of the sleepy alleyways and into the lightstones of the construction site. Slowing his mad dash, he collapsed on the ground by a pile of materials. He sat there, catching his breath, until someone approached him. “Takua, are you okay?” Takua looked up to see Raipu’s broad shoulders standing over him. The Po-Matoran offered his hand to Takua. “Yeah. I am now,” he said between breaths. Taking a moment to calm down, he told Raipu about his unnerving encounter. The whole thing only took a minute, but at the end of his tale the Po-Matoran looked at him with raised eyebrows, and Takua got the feeling that he was being judged. Raipu let out a hint of a smirk. “I didn’t take you for one to get intimidated so easily.” Takua rolled his eyes. “I know, but,” he paused, trying to collect his thoughts. “There was something about him. He was really tall, blackish-grey, and had a mask like a snake’s head.” Raipu pondered his words for a second. “I’ve never heard of a mask like that.” They started walking to the table where Raipu kept all his building plans. “He asked me if I remembered him," Takua added. Raipu handed Takua his punch card, humoring him. “Well, have you seen him before?” “No, except for in a dream and yesterday. He came up to me and asked if I could feel ‘his’ return. Whoever ‘he’ is.” Takua replied, punching his card that indicated he had clocked in. “Sounds like you just dazed off and had the same dream again." Raipu concluded. “Now get up there, you want your paycheck or not?” Takua shook his head as he walked away. Was it just a dream? It certainly could have been. Dark shadows, mysterious appearances, things that don’t make sense: all of it was perfect dream material. The sun finally poked its head through the clouds, illuminating the work site with a soft glow. Takua climbed the tower of scaffolding, dodging other workers and stepping over tools until he made it to the top level. There he found a pail of mortar and started to add stones to the unfinished wall in front of him. He worked in silence for a few minutes, until a Matoran a little older than him came over. “I haven’t seen you here before,” the Matoran said. “Are you new?” “Not really,” Takua answered. “I just never show up. This is going to be my last day.” The Matoran laughed. “I understand. Usually I like this job; I get to listen to the calls of the morning animals out here. It’s really pretty here on the outskirts. There’s a lot more wildlife to listen to.” Takua listened. All he heard were a couple of birds, chirping. “Although, it seems like I’ve been hearing less and less over the past few days, the Matoran continued. “It’s almost as if all the animals are leaving.” Takua went back to his work. “Another mystery in a land that’s filled with them.” “When it’s not cloudy, I also like to watch the morning stars as I work,” the Matoran obviously wasn’t getting the hint that Takua wasn’t in a talkative mood. “Did you know that the stars can tell you the future? When the red star moves in the right place of a constellation, the event the constellation represents will happen.” The stars will guide you, Takua thought. Maybe that’s what the crazy old man had meant. Thump-thp. Takua paused his work, looking down at the stone as it dangled around his neck. It hung there, as any piece of jewelry would. There was a moment of quiet, as the sound of the chirping birds left him, and the subtle heartbeat echoed in his ears. He narrowed his eyes, not sure if he had actually heard the sound, or if his mind was playing tricks on him. But he stared at the black, shiny stone nonetheless, suddenly feeling...uneasy? Suspicious? He wasn't really sure. Thump thp! Takua felt a sudden pain in his chest. His ears cracked and rang, blotting out all other noise. He clutched his chest and cried out as the burning sensation spread, causing pain throughout his entire being. He tried to stand, only to find the whole world spinning around him. The blur he thought was the Matoran got up and tried to say something, but Takua couldn't hear what it was. All he knew was pain. Burning pain all over him. His vision blurred, and he fell backwards. The pain grew worse as he plummeted off the scaffolding toward the ground. He approaches. The voice was a silent whisper in Takua's screaming ears, but somehow he still heard it. The pain was unbearable, and nothing would make it stop. He will come at you through steel, fire, and darkness, but you must not give in. Takua writhed in the air as he felt his mind slipping away. He had to stay awake. He had to! If you give in, the balance will never be restored. Burning, burning, burning everywhere. His eyes closed. No! He forced them open. He had to stay awake! Your time of choosing rapidly approaches. He had to....he had to... Your destiny rapidly approaches. Takua shut his eyes and saw no more.

Chapter 5 - Unanswered Questions Takua blinked. “What?” Turaga Matau grabbed Takua by the shoulders and stared him down. “Listen to me Takua, I need you to tell the truth. Do you know anything about this?” “What? No!” he blurted, scared that he might get framed into something. “I don’t know anything!” “Are you sure?” “Of course!” Kokani knelt down and wiped the mud off the Matoran’s mask. Quickly he stood up and tapped the Turaga on the shoulder. “I've seen this before,” he whispered into Matau’s ear. Matau slowly turned to Kokani, and the Ko-Matoran nodded, as if ensuring something. “Alright, everyone away!” Matau called out. “Go about your lives, we shall deal with this.” He turned away from the crowd to consult the findings with Kokani and the healer. The crowd groaned, as they had obviously been hoping for some sort of information. One by one the people descended down the ladder, aided by members of Le-Koro's Gukko Force, whom had just recently appeared. After a few moments, Takua and Jaka found themselves among many important and powerful members of the city. Takua glanced over to his friend, feeling rather out of place. With a wave of his hand, Matau ordered the healer and guards to give them space. Once everyone was out of earshot, he knelt down to take another look at the poor Matoran, still curled up in a ball on the ground, oblivious to everything around him. Frantically he said, “What is this Kokani? Tell me.” “No tell me!” Takua interrupted. He needed answers. “Why is he saying my name? I’ve never met this guy in my life let alone done anything to him. What do you know about this?” Kokani held his ground, his face not giving up anything. Matau turned around too look at Takua, his aged face with a look of uncertainty upon it. Strangely, for the first time in his life, Takua realized that the Turaga was getting very old. “I don’t know what to tell you, Takua,” he said. “I’m not quite sure what’s going on myself.” Takua looked at Matau for a moment, troubled. Not knowing what else to say, he decided it was best for him to leave. He bade the Turaga a short farewell, and climbed down the ladder to the ground level. “Hey!” Jaka quickly caught up with him. “Where are you going?” He asked. “The docks. I need to think.” The docks were far from the city center, and sat on the banks of an inlet of the sea. It was one of Takua’s favorite spots to go and think, and after the strange events of the day, he needed some peace and quiet. It took them a while to get there, but eventually they stood at the edge of the long wooden dock that stretched out into the water. Every once and a while a boat or canoe passed by, but other than that, it was quiet. A rock stuck out of the water in front of them. It had writing on it, and Takua read it, as he always did when he came down here. It said: Under the gaze of red, two shall dance. Light and dark will meet, and the dance shall turn to dust. The dust shall dance, and spirits shall fall, and only one will remain. The stars await his footsteps, as they usher in an age. An age of light, an age of dark, an age of broken destiny. No one knew how the writing came to be on the rock. It was probably just the scribbling from a maddened sailor, but Takua tried to make sense of it all the same. He’d even asked Turaga Matau about the inscription once, but he hadn’t known either. Takua and Jaka looked out at the water for a few moments, until Jaka spoke up. “You okay?” “Yeah,” Takua sighed, rubbing his temples. “I just don’t know what to think. This whole thing is creepy.” “Do you know that Ko-Matoran Matau was with?” “No, why?” “I’ve seen him before,” Jaka said. “He comes to visit the Turaga every once and a while. He seems to know a lot about what’s going on with the rest of the island.” Takua thought about it for a second. “What are you trying to say?” “If you really want to find out what’s going on…” Jaka trailed off purposefully, leaving the rest of his sentence open to interpretation. Takua looked over to his friend, realizing what he was suggesting, and smiled. ~~~ “How did he find us?” Matau asked. “I’m not sure. But he knows the stone is here.” “I figured that out. But how? We’ve set up so many precautions. And what was that back there? Is this some new disease of the Makuta? Why was he saying Takua’s name?” “I don't know, maybe he knew Takua has the stone and was trying to warn him. This has happened before up north, once someone is attacked, their mind shuts down and only works to keep the body alive," Kokani said as they climbed the ladder up to the Turaga's house. "But how? Why?" Matau followed. "The Wall of History has no information on this state, nor how to cure it." "Such is the way of the Makuta. He lives to destroy." The Turaga paced back and forth within his home. The walls were lined with shelves of books and scrolls, with large, comfortable furniture filling up the floor space. He led Kokani through a circular doorway into the kitchen. "His mask had started to rust. Could it be the Madness?" He asked Kokani as he pulled a kettle out of a drawer and started to make tea. Kokani looked around the room. There was a cracked window above the counter that let a slight breeze in. Kokani eyed the window closely. "Some think so; however it's a lessened state. He's probably still too weak to control the Madness." "Well then what can we do? Protodermis is very hard to come by these days—" He was cut short by Kokani's gaze. Slowly, Kokani got up from his chair and walked toward the window. His feet were silent as he approached it. As he got closer, he slid the tip of his dagger out of its sheath. Matau kept quiet, realizing that Kokani knew someone was spying on them. Kokani pushed the window open and stuck his head out, looking at the floor of the platform. He smiled. "Well, well, well, look what we have here." Reaching down, he grabbed something that yelped and yanked it into view of the window. Takua's head popped up. “Come here, boy,” he said as he promptly pulled Takua through the window. “We have things to talk about.” Takua yelped again as he hit the stone floor of Matau’s kitchen. The necklace slipped off his neck and slid to a halt at the Turaga's feet. Matau picked it up and stared at the boy, displeased. "Spying? On me of all people?" Matau said disapprovingly. Takua hung his head. “Sorry.” “You will be,” Kokani retorted. “What have you heard? Speak, or I’ll beat it out of you.” “Now, now, there won’t be any need for violence, Kokani.” Matau interrupted. “Tell us Takua, what did you hear?” “Nothing I swear! Just something about Madness, and I don’t even know what that is,” Takua said defensively. “I just want to know why the Storyteller was saying my name.” Kokani turned to Matau, as if waiting to hear what he would say. The Turaga, in turn, looked back at Kokani. There were a few moments of silence in which Takua's question lingered in the air like a bubble waiting to pop. Matau opened his mouth to speak. "Takua, I'm sorry, we just don't know yet. I promise we will tell you everything that we learn." He fingered the chain of Takua's stone in his hands as he spoke. "I can understand that you're worried, but we can't help you yet." He stared at the black stone. "There are..." He trailed off as he stared at the black stone. That black stone that stood for eternity. Never dying eternity. The corners of his mouth slid into a scowl as he held the stone and looked back at Takua. "There are things Kokani and I need to discuss," he finished. Takua stared at Matau and Kokani. He trusted the Turaga, but he couldn't help think that there was something that they weren't telling him. He got up from the floor and looked at them again, analyzing anything that might give their solid faces away. Neither one of them showed anything. "Okay," he said. "I believe you." "Good. Now go home and get some rest. You look tired. Oh yes, you dropped this." Matau said, holding out the stone. "Oh, thanks." Takua reached out for it and took the metal chain. In the back of his mind, something flickered. Thump-thp. Shaking himself, Takua pushed the thought out of his head. He said his goodbyes and left Matau's house, opening the door to the fading twilight. The pinkish-orange light lit up the square, now dwindling in population. He sighed as he started climbing down the ladder. There was something wrong. He knew it. Matau was afraid, and the traveler he knew as Kokani seemed like he knew something. His feet left the bottom rung of the ladder and he jumped to the ground. His necklace thumped against his chest. He looked at the silver chain and held it in his hand. He let his eyes fall upon the stone. It was almost as if it was waiting for something, like it had a mind of its own. It drew Takua's gaze, wanting attention, wanting Takua to treasure it forever. It wanted protection; it wanted to be home. Takua blinked. "You need to stop messing with my head, okay?" he told the stone. Its black shiny face stared back at him. "Don't give me that look, stop it." The stone sat in silence. He sighed. "Takua, you're talking to a rock." Shaking his head at himself, he continued his walk home.

Chapter 4 - Approaching Shadows Turaga Matau looked up at the trees, towering above him as he would a firefly. The slight breeze rustled the long grass beneath his feet, the Le-Ko trade route running just beside him. The road cut its way through a small hill, leaving walls of dirt on one side that rose up into the rest of the natural landscape. The Turaga watched and listened, as he was expecting company. He heard the laughing of children, which was a good sign. The children who lived out here on the farms loved to chase trade wagons and whatever else may be moving along the route. The noise grew closer, and soon he saw a cart pulled by two mahi appear through the foliage. The little Matoran ran alongside it, asking the driver questions about his adventures outside Le-Koro. It was a simple, happy sight. The cart drew nearer to him, and the driver looked up from under his grey hood. An off-white Akaku looked at Matau. “Hail, Turaga.” Upon seeing the Turaga the children ran off in separate ways, afraid he might tell their parents of their bothering. Matau smiled and gave a slight bow to the traveler, who stopped his cart just beside the Turaga. “Care for a ride, old friend?” he asked. “I would love one,” Matau said as he pulled himself onto the bench next to the traveler. “My legs have gotten rather weary lately. I have some advice, Kokani: don’t ever get old.” “I’ll try my best.” “Very well,” Matau replied. “I see you decided to spend more than half a year up north. What held you?” Kokani sighed. “I was getting to that, Turaga. Unfortunately, all is not well.” Matau nodded his head in agreement. “Rahi have started attacking villages out in the jungle. I’m afraid they will only grow fiercer.” “It’s not just Rahi,” Kokani said. “It’s the Kryll.” “Kryll? A threat?” Kokani started at Matau in disbelief. “Have you not heard the stories?” Matau shook his head. “I’m beginning to feel we are being isolated from the rest of the villages. Trade caravans barely stop in anymore, and when they do the traders are stone-faced and shady. What have they been up to?” “Well,” Kokani said, “You know how they’ve always been: quiet, skittish, primitive. Always shying away from Matoran villages. But recently, all along the northern shores, travelers have come back to the Koro with tales of being attacked and left for dead in the wild. I’ve even heard a village west of Ga-Koro was burnt to the ground.” He shook his head. “If it keeps up they’ll become a threat to all the major cities.” Matau looked up at the sky, or at least, what little sky was visible through the leaves. “Dark times are creeping upon us. I’ve been feeling it in my bones for a long time now.” Kokani wrapped his cloak tighter and looked around them. Only the leaves moved as a slight breeze pushed past them. Everything seemed to grow quiet, as if the entire jungle wanted to hear what the Ko-Matoran was about to say. “Nuju has locked himself in his study. From what he sees so far, things will get much worse.” “Speak.” “Matoran, and even some Kryll in the east have appeared on our shores and docks. They stay for a couple days, only to move again, as if they are running from something. A power is making itself known to this world that has been believed dead for an age: a shadow has been cast.” Matau gripped his staff until his knuckles turned white. “It is as we feared.” Kokani agreed, “Some Matoran sense it, the Turaga’s spies have seen it. His symbol marks the charred trees of the Eastern Continent. He takes refuge there, and some even say the Kryll of that land have pledged themselves to him. They are a formidable enemy; I have seen their towers, cities and fortresses. Do you still have the stone?” “I have given it to my son. It will be safe with him.” “Good,” Kokani replied. “Makuta will want it back.” ~~~ Takua awoke just before noon. He had slept rather late, even for him, and felt as if he had already wasted his day. Eager to get his life started, he sat up in bed, promptly knocking his head on the shelf above him. "Mata Nui!" he cried out, followed by a rather long stream of curses. Holding his forehead, he got off his bed and began his daily routine by washing his Pakari in the sink. Looking up at himself in the mirror, he noticed some paper shoved through his mail slot. Wow! He thought. I never get mail! He bent down and picked them up. There were two letters. Two! He sat on his bed and began to open the first one. He sighed as he recognized the Builder's Union symbol on the front of the envelope. Which meant Raipu. Which meant work. Quickly glancing over the piece of parchment, he read something about Raipu having to drop him because of his poor attendance, and something about him having to come to work at least once within the next three days in order to claim his final paycheck. Being informed of his termination probably should've worried him more than it actually did. He tossed the letter on the ground. The second one was from Jaka. That was strange, if Jaka wanted to tell him something, he usually just woke him up. Opening it, his care-free mood from the previous letter faded away. Takua- Come to the town square. I would've woken you but I didn't have time. There's something wrong. As soon as you're up, get over here. Hurry. Jaka Finished reading the letter, Takua opened his door and went out. He briskly jogged toward inner Le-Koro. Being around midday, he took all the back alleyways to avoid traffic. He weaved in and out of the tall buildings and trees with speed, for he knew them like the back of his hand. This time of day almost no one was on these streets, and the lack of people allowed an eerie silence to creep in and settle behind every corner. Takua thought about this. Usually there were calls of birds and other animals, but today it seemed as though all wildlife had left Le-Koro. He turned a corner and somehow managed to trip over his own feet, landing with a thud on the hard-packed dirt. “Ouch,” he mumbled, cursing himself for his own stupidity. He brushed his armor off as he got back up, and was startled to see someone standing in front of him. Where had he come from? The figure was taller than a Matoran and wore black armor, like one from Onu-Wahi. A mask like a serpent's head rested upon the being’s face, one that Takua had never seen before. Then, with a quick, aggressive step, the being moved forward, grabbed Takua’s arm and looked into his eyes. “Can you feel his return?” The voice reverberated in Takua’s head and chilled him to the bone. Takua fidgeted at his touch, but met the being's gaze with alarmed confusion. “...what?” The figure let go of Takua’s arm. There was a rustle of his black cloak and...he was gone. Takua blinked and looked around, unsure what had just happened. “...hello?” he said slowly, but no one answered. “Hello!?” he called out once more, this time louder, but again there was no reply, save for his echo. He was alone in the hollow, dusty alley. He took a moment, half convinced that he had made up the figure in his head before he started moving again. “Takua, there’s something wrong with you,” he told himself as he started to jog again, a little unnerved. As he moved closer to the inner city, more and more people went about their daily business. The quiet broken down buildings of the alley were replaced with great works of architecture intertwined with massive trees. The road Takua walked on bustled with traffic now, as carts pulled by Rahi and hawking salesmen made their rounds. The chatter of the market increased as Takua moved into the town square. Looking around, he didn’t see anything that caught his eye, until he bumped into Jaka. “Takua, over here,” Jaka said, his normally happy tone peppered with worry. “Jaka!” Takua answered, surprised to have found him so quickly. “What’s going on?” “You’d better come and see.” Jaka led Takua around the crowds of people to the far corner of the square, where a giant oak rested. Motioning for him to follow, Jaka climbed a ladder and onto a platform built into the side of the tree. There were a few dozen Matoran clustered around something lying on the ground. Pushing their way through, Takua saw a rather disturbing scene. There on the ground was a Matoran, shivering and shaking and muttering to himself. The poor thing looked barely alive. Most of his bright green body was covered with mud, and his mask was withered and grey. With a glance anyone could tell that the Matoran had been through something horrible. On the tree bark behind him there was a scribble in bold black paint: RUN, ATOURI. HE IS COMING. Takua swallowed hard. It was the Storyteller from the Twisted Nail. “What happened?” he asked. Jaka kneeled down and looked at the Matoran’s eyes. His pupils were dilated and they twitched back and forth. “No one knows. He was found just a little while ago. He could have been up here all night.” “Out of the way, out of the way!” A voice shouted from the back of the crowd. The mass of bodies opened up and Turaga Matau stepped through, accompanied by Kokani and a Le-Matoran woman. “I’m a healer; please step out of the way,” the woman asked Jaka, who respectfully stood back. “What happened here?” the Turaga asked. He opened his arms, turning to address the crowd. “Does anyone know what happened here?” The crowd stopped their murmuring, but no one had an answer. “Does anyone know who this Matoran is?” he said, pointing at the frail creature. Jaka spoke up. “He’s the Storyteller, Turaga.” Matau snapped his head around to look at the fidgeting Matoran. Now he recognized him, and pain flooded his eyes. “No…” The moment only lasted a second, and then he was back to being the leader he was known to be. “Does anyone else have any information on this subject?” “Turaga,” the healer spoke up. “Physically he’s fine. It’s just that his mask is losing color, and he won’t respond to anything. I’m afraid I don’t know what’s wrong with him.” Matau cursed. “What’s he mumbling about?” The healer leaned close to the Matoran, listening intently. After a moment she nervously made eye contact with Takua, but then turned to the Turaga. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. “Well?” Matau asked again. Something about the situation worried him more than anyone else. It was apparent in his speech. The healer glanced at Takua again. “He’s saying ‘Takua,’ over and over again.”

Chapter 3 - Learning of the Stars Takua walked among the tall grass in silence, admiring the scenery. He’d seen it many times, but couldn’t help but think about how beautiful it was. Under the setting sun the long stalks shone golden, and the gray stones that peppered the area glimmered in the light. To his left there was a decent-sized cliff, dropping down to where the jungle grew below. Birds and wild Rahi called to each other in the trees. Talim lived in the outskirts, as she preferred the call of wildlife to the call of vendors. He was looking at the pink, orange, and light blue sky when he first saw Talim’s house. Unlike Takua, she took pride in her work, and therefore had the money to spend on things she wanted. So instead of living in shacks like Takua and Jaka, she owned decent sized home built partially into the hillside. Its wooden walls and thatched roof let it stand out in the peaceful landscape, but not so much as to make it a target of any Rahi attack. Takua walked up and knocked on the door. Talim opened it and smiled. “You’re late.” Her beautiful dark green Huna glinted in the sunlight. “Well, I had nothing better to do, so I figured I'd show,” Takua joked. “Right,” she rolled her eyes, but smiled. “Well come on; get in here before it gets dark.” Takua stepped through the door and into Talim’s well-furnished living room. “Have you eaten yet?” she asked, walking toward the kitchen. Takua shook his head. “A bit, but I can always eat.” “Good, because I made fikou stew.” She poured two bowls and they sat in the kitchen and ate. Takua told her about all the ridiculous things he had gotten into in the past week, and she listened intently, laughing as she tried to eat. The evening wore on, and they continued enjoying each other’s company until the stars lit up the sky. “…so yeah. That’s why you should never try to wrestle a Takea shark.” Talim coughed, almost spewing a mouthful of stew all over the table. She swallowed it and burst out laughing. “Well, thanks for letting me know you care about my well-being,” Takua said sarcastically. “I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, but you’re a moron,” she said, still trying to calm down. The boom of distant fireworks sounded through the open window, and Takua jumped up. “The fireworks!” He said as he grabbed Talim’s hand, forcing her out of her seat. “Come on we can’t miss these!” They ran outside. The night sky lit up with a huge flash of red, which sparkled away just in time to allow another explosion of color. The two stared in awe, the bright flashes imprinted in their minds. They watched for a long time, standing in the swaying grass as the jungle below them lit up with reds, blues, and greens. Then there was a pause in the flashes, and the night crept in as they waited for more. Nothing moved but the wind, and they watched the sky for a moment, wondering if the show was over. Suddenly there were many colors at once, exploding in a great finale of sparkling flames. Different types of fireworks went off, from huge spiders, to crackling rockets, to great flashes. Each one was different, and never was there a pause where the darkness crept in. Explosion after explosion awed the couple, who watched it all with glimmering eyes. The finale ended, leaving the night quiet and peaceful as before. An onlooker wouldn’t even know what had happened if it weren’t for the wisps of smoke rising from the trees. Talim and Takua continued to look out over the jungle, still in awe of the colorful lights. “What are you doing here, Takua?” Talim asked, breaking the silence. “Huh?” “You weren’t meant for a life here. You should be traveling the island, having your own adventures,” She paused, looking out at the trailing wisps of smoke. Her voice seemed...a bit sad. “I know you want something more out of life.” Takua had always known, deep down, that this was true. He wanted to go visit new places, meet new people, and explore the world on his own. But on the other hand, he had never seriously thought about going. He'd never actually made any plans to leave Le-Koro. “Well, I’m happy here. Why would I leave?” “I just…” Talim stopped for a second, thinking of what to say. “I don’t want to keep you from your dreams.” “My dreams are wherever you are, Talim.” The words slipped out of Takua’s mouth before he even realized what he was saying. He bit his tongue right after speaking. That was so lame. So corny. But Talim didn’t make fun of him. Instead she smiled and looked down at the ground, a hint of blush showing from under her mask. “Okay,” she answered, almost in a whisper. “You should come over more often. I had fun.” “Anytime,” Takua said, still embarrassed from what he had said. Trying to make up for himself, he bent down and picked a small orange flower from the grasses and handed it to her. “For you.” She blushed again and placed it behind her ear. “Aw, how does it look?” “Like garbage.” Talim rolled her eyes and gave him a playful shove before turning around and walking back to her house. “You’re terrible. I’m going to bed.” “I’m just playing. It looks nice.” “Of course it does. It’s me.” There was a pause in their conversation. Talim stood in her open doorway, her eyes meeting Takua's. They stood there, silent as the seconds ticked by, looking at each other. “Well, good night,” Takua said quietly. “Good night, Takua.” Talim slowly shut the door, its hinges creaking until the doorknob clicked shut, leaving him alone in the night. And Takua began his way home. He thought of her as he walked. Eventually his thoughts drifted to how they met. His first memory was of her, in fact. Talim was the one who found him lying in that jungle clearing, unconscious. He didn’t know anything about himself, not even a name, so Talim had named him Takua, after the great Toa of light in the old days. Takua smirked to himself, as if he’d ever do anything like the Toa did. Come to think of it, Takua’s sudden appearance in Le-Koro was strange, and no one could explain it. But then again, eventually all things are forgotten and Takua was accepted into the village like anyone else. He spent his first days in the Turaga’s house, where he learned about everything on Mata Nui. Days turned to months, then to years, and as soon as he was old enough, Takua set out to find his own way in the world. And now he lived in his very own shack. Good times. The path Takua walked was frequented by merchants and travelers, often coming in from small, remote villages farther out in the jungle, so it wasn't too far-fetched that he wouldn't be be the only one using it that night. But still, an unexpected sound began to make its way towards his ears. Bum de dum, doo doo dee, Everything, he does see The singing brought Takua back to the real world. He looked up to see an old Matoran walking along the path toward him. He was dark yellow, and carried a knotted walking staff. Over the great ocean blue, Mata Nui Watches you. Takua passed the old one, who promptly turned around and followed him by a little more than two steps, all the while continuing to sing. Takua sped up his pace, a bit annoyed, but the Matoran also sped up, and the cycle continued until Takua was almost running. The old one, surprisingly, kept up. Finally, Takua stopped and turned around, causing the Matoran to bump into him. “Can I help you?” he asked, suppressing his annoyance. The Matoran’s Hau cracked into a smile. “Ah, can I quick-help you?” He talked in tree-speak, a dialect only used nowadays by those who lived far, far out in the jungle. “No, you can’t help me. I just want to walk home in peace.” Takua said. “Wrong answer!” The old Matoran rapped Takua on the head with his staff. “Ow!” Takua yelped. “Who are you?” “Who are you, windsprinter?” “I’m Takua, what do you want?” he said, his patience waning. The old one’s eyes widened and he started to laugh. “Woo woo, ha ha! Takua! Hee hee hee!” Suddenly he stopped and his face was serious. “You need help youngling!” He poked Takua in the chest multiple times to emphasize his point. Takua sighed. If this geezer wouldn’t go away he might as well play the game. “Okay, where can I find help?” The old man whirled around and put his arm on Takua’s shoulder, motioning to the sky with his other hand. “Look to the stars!” He spread his palm out and moved it across the night sky, as if washing an invisible window. The red star shone out among the other points of light, in the east. They were quiet for a minute or two, until Takua broke it. “So, what am I looking for?” “The stars!” They stared for a few more minutes, until Takua broke the silence again. “Yeah, I’m not seeing anything.” “That is because you are not looking, baldwalker!” He rapped Takua on the head once more. “Would you stop it!?” Takua snapped. “Will you stop it!?” “Don’t copy me.” “Who?” “You!” “Shh! Listen!” The old one whispered. “The quiet share-gives advice!” Takua had had enough of this. The Matoran was clearly insane. “That’s very nice. I hope you have a good night.” He turned to walk away, but felt a hand on his shoulder, as if asking him to listen to one last crazy statement. Sighing, Takua turned to look at the Matoran once more. Deep blue eyes stared through the Hau at Takua. Gone was the crazy and spontaneous feel, replaced with the eyes of an old being: thoughtful and wise. They stared intently, as if searching inside Takua for an unknown treasure; an unknown jewel hidden the body of the young Le-matoran. Finally the old one’s mouth opened to speak. “The stars will guide you.” Takua nodded, and turned to walk away. He felt the hand slip off his shoulder and he knew that he wasn’t being followed. Glancing one last look, he saw the old one standing where he'd left him, staring up into the night sky. Takua smiled to himself. What a loon! The song started up again and gave the night a quiet hum. As Takua walked, the song faded, until he could barely hear it. It shriveled to a soft whisper, and Takua’s ears strained to hear the last few lines before the night gave way to silence: Wake up and taste the morning dew, Feel his nectar, surging through. Bum de dum da dee dee doo, The wonders of life, he gives to you.

I was listening to So Far Gone today....made me miss the old drake, but I don't wanna temp him

Thanks so much for the review! Wow, I thought I did proofread, but I guess not enough. Oops. As for the capitalization problems (at least for Toa and Turaga), I tried to capitalize when the word was used as a title, but not when it was used to describe a being. Looking back, I'll probably just capitalize everything, just to simplify things.In terms of the smallness, I'm glad you could feel it! The story takes place in seven parts (kind of a lot, i know), one for each region of the island, plus an extra one. As for the kryll, they'll show up later in part one. I named them a long time ago, before i even knew about Gears of War, so that's just bad luck I suppose.I'm really glad you liked the storyteller and the legend! I am really happy by how it turned out, and I feel it accurately portrays the mood I was going for. I have had some experience as a writer, as I wrote a couple of short stories a few years ago, but other than that my only experience is what I've learned in high school and college.Oh and before I forget: yes, it is assumed that matoran are born, although I never delve much into family lives. Also, Talim is in fact a female Le-matoran. As a kid I always pictured that all kinds of matoran had equal populations of both sexes, and was somewhat confused when I was told otherwise. Sorry for the confusion!Thanks again for the review! I hope I can keep you interested!

thank you so much!!

Ay, imma let you all finish, but Kid Cudi and Lupe are two of the best rappers of all time! Of all time!Ha sorry I just had to say that. I'm so glad I found this topic. I thought I was alone in this cruel rap-hating bzp world....

1) The Herald of Darknesshttp://www.bzpower.com/board/index.php?showtopic=4087&st=0&p=210884&&do=findComment&comment=2108842) Review topichttp://www.bzpower.com/board/index.php?showtopic=4088&st=0&p=210902&&do=findComment&comment=2109023) 2 + prologue, so 3I don't know how to disguise a link within normal text...awkward. Sorry about that.

Chapter 2 - The Tale of Atouri “Congrats,” Jaka pounded fists with Takua. “Matau’s blessing. I’m jealous.” Takua smirked. “I bet you are.” Talim came over carrying two massive tankards of some sort of brew. With a thump she placed them in front of the two friends. “Enjoy, boys. It’s on the Turaga.” “Hey,” Takua grabbed her hand as she was turning away. “When do you get off?” “Around six, why?” “You think you might want to do something later?” She looked at him for a moment. “I’d love to.” She smiled as she turned away and went back to work. Jaka snorted. “Just friends, right?” “Shut up.” It wasn't unusual for the Twisted Nail to have bands and storytellers come in, but today was the solstice, and never once was there a period of time when someone wasn't on the stage. By the time Takua and Jaka had finished their drinks, an old Matoran was up on the stage, sitting on a stool and telling stories to a small crowd that had gathered around him. The Matoran had a lime green body and wore a Ruru. Everyone knew of him: he was the greatest storyteller in all of Le-Koro. But he was a loner, and a strange one at that. No one knew his real name, as he introduced himself as someone different every day. Takua and Jaka were on their way to the door, when Takua noticed the Matoran and stopped. "Come on man, storytellers are for kids," Jaka urged him. Takua waved him off. "This guy's supposed to be the best in Le-Koro. Just one story." Jaka rolled his eyes and followed Takua to the crowd. They sat down next to a group of children who were eagerly waiting for the old one to begin. Takua felt someone poke him, and he looked at the small boy who sat next to him. “Aren’t you too old for stories?” The boy asked. Takua shot him a glare. “Don’t judge me.” The old Matoran spoke up. "Now, I shall tell you a story not very well known among Matoran." His voice was raspy and harsh, but was still loud enough to keep everyone's attention. "It is a sad story, but one that bears great importance among the ancient tales. It is a story of Mata Nui and Makuta, and the many events that occurred because of one small girl." He paused and made eye contact with Takua, who broke it after a few uncomfortable seconds. The Storyteller began his tale. "In the time before time, there was a beautiful young Matoran named Atouri. She was more beautiful than any other Matoran. Her smile made the sun come out, and her voice made the birds sing. Every day she would go down to the water, where there was an island just offshore with a beautiful jewel on it. She wished she could have the treasure, but dared not to swim across the water, as the currents were strong and she would surely drown. One day, as she was looking at the jewel, a snake slithered up beside her. 'I will show you the way through the water, as I have crossed it many times,' the snake said. Atouri agreed, and followed the snake out into the water. But the snake was really Makuta in disguise, and Atouri could not keep up with him. The currents caught her, and she drowned. Mata Nui confronted his brother about the issue. 'Why have you done this, my brother? Why did you trick Atouri?' 'I could not help it,' Makuta answered. 'It is my nature.' Mata Nui was saddened, as Atouri was very beautiful, and her loss was a great one. He turned the water salty, as punishment for drowning Atouri. But that was not enough. So he bestowed his power on the jewel, and named it the Atouri, so the Matoran's legacy would go on. Anyone who held the jewel would see the true beauty of the world, and would always be happy. 'But you must not touch the jewel, my brother.' Mata Nui told Makuta. 'That is your punishment. Never will you see true beauty, and never will you be happy.' Makuta was angered, even enraged that his brother would curse him for his very nature. He stole the jewel, but it did not give him happiness. Nothing gave him happiness. So Makuta poured all his anger and malice into it, until its color turned to black, and its shine faded until it became a lesser stone. He poured his very heart into the stone, so Mata Nui would know what he had caused. But Makuta had not thought his plan through. Mata Nui had tricked Makuta, so that whoever now held the jewel, also held Makuta's heart, and if the jewel was ever destroyed, Makuta would be also. Naturally, Makuta placed spells over the stone so that it could only be destroyed by beings of light more powerful than himself. In a world of lesser beings, Makuta realized he now had nothing to fear, and he began to use the stone as a strength. He placed the Atouri among the Matoran, and began to infect their hearts and minds from within their own villages. Makuta spread his darkness all over the earth from within his heart, until he was confronted by his brother. 'You have ruined Atouri's legacy with your darkness, brother. This is not what I wanted for her.' Makuta sneered at his brother, for his eyes had been clouded by his own darkness, and he could no longer see the truth. 'You have caused this, for it is you who condemned me to my fate.' Wordless, Mata Nui took the stone and cast it away, forever hiding it from him. Makuta was greatly weakened by the act, for he was now more a part of the Atouri than he was himself. Makuta raged violently, and swore that if he ever found the stone again he would release his wrath upon the world, so much that not even Mata Nui would survive. He struck at everything around him until he was exhausted, for this was the first pain he had ever felt. He felt hollow. He felt like dying, but death would never come. He cried out to his brother one last time. 'You would choose to save the Matoran at the cost of your own brother?' Mata Nui called back, 'I could not help it, it is my nature.'" Everyone applauded. The Storyteller bowed, and once again glanced at Takua before gathering up his things. Why does he always look at me? Takua thought. "Can we go now?" Jaka asked. "Yes, we can. That wasn't so bad, now was it?" "Whatever." It was the afternoon, and as Takua and Jaka headed for the door, it opened in front of them. In stepped Raipu, a somewhat distant friend of theirs. He was a Po-Matoran whose tan Hau demanded authority, even though he was only a few years older than Takua. He spent the spring and summer in Le-Koro as a construction manager, and traveled north to see Po-Koro in the fall and winter. “You were supposed to work today, Takua.” he said. Takua looked up at him. “Uh...really?” “Yes,” Raipu scolded. “I can’t keep doing this, Takua. This is you’re last warning.” “Oh, shoot, look at the time!” said Takua looking over at the clock on the wall. “I’ve got to go, Raipu, happy solstice!” He ran off, leaving Jaka wondering what just happened. The rain had stopped, and the two spent the rest of the day walking around town, watching shows dedicated to the solstice and taking advantage of free food. As the afternoon waned, people had started to gather in the town square for the annual shows and parades that would start later that night.The two friends picked out a good place to sit on a ledge above the door to a bakery. It was rather comfortable. They could see over everyone on the ground, and as long as it didn’t collapse, everything would be fine. The clock tower boomed from the corner of the square. Six times it rang, letting everyone know that the festivities would soon start. The booms triggered something in Takua’s mind he had forgotten. Talim! She gets off at six! He jumped down to the cobblestone below him. “Where are you going?” Jaka asked. “You’re going to be late for everything.” “I was supposed to meet Talim! I might be back, might not!” He ran off into the crowd of Matoran. Jaka sighed to himself. “What am I going to do with him?”

Chapter 1 - The Spring Solstice He had slept for so long; his dreams had been dark ones. But now he was awakened, the scattered elements of his mind returning, slowly bringing him back to reality, quietly carrying him once more to the calm, gentle embrace of his bed. This happened every once and a while; his head imagining shadows while he slept, conjuring images of great clashes, long ago. But that was the case for everyone occasionally, and so Takua thought nothing of it as he lay with his face in his pillow, teetering on the edge of consciousness, his eyes still shut as the pitter-patter of rain tapped on the low roof above his head. He lay there for a while, unmoving — comfy, and content, to ignore the rest of the world. But the world, it seemed, had other plans. Squawk! Takua groaned, his eyes cracking open as the bird’s shrill call reached his ears. There was a moment of silence, a brief few seconds of hesitation before a few short, high pitched chirps made their way to his ears, suggesting an impending climax of noise. “No… too early…” Takua’s voice rattled, groggy as he turned his head to the side, staring at the small, single-panel window beside his bed. “Don’t do this….” Squaaaawk! “Why…!” he grumbled, dragging out the syllable as he reached over, smacking the glass pane with his palm. It opened with a slight creak, and he stuck his head outside, blinking the sleep from his eyes as drops of rain hit his face. “Shut! Up! You stupid bird!” The Kewa sitting atop his roof let out another squawk, startled by his voice, but it ruffled its feathers and flew away. Takua's head slumped back into his pillow, and, satisfied with himself, he grabbed the covers he had kicked back during the night, pulling them over his mask once more. It was a quiet, rainy morning in the village of Le-Koro, and the small shack Takua lived in was just enough to keep the wind and water out of his face. Nestled underneath the root of large tree, it sat on the outskirts of town, close enough to still be walkable, yet far enough to allow him a just a little bit of privacy. Its low ceiling covered only one room, mostly filled with Takua’s bed, a sink, and a series of shelves and bookcases that lined the walls. They housed a large collection of tiny trinkets, cheap baubles, and other items that many Matoran might consider to be… well, quite simply — junk. It wasn’t much, but to Takua, a young Le-Matoran just getting used to living on his own, it was everything he wanted in a home. The clock on his nightstand read nine in the morning, but if one were to ask any passerby on the streets of Le-Koro, they could easily learn that — despite his upbringing in the house of Turaga Matau — Takua was known for being the town’s slacker, and that he had a common tendency to sleep very, very late. Knock knock knock! The rapping at his door was loud and sudden, and the almost-back-asleep Takua jolted upward, knocking his mask on the low shelf above his bed. “Aw, Mata Nui!" he cursed. But still, the knocking persisted. “Okay, okay… I’m up,” he called to no one in particular, swiveling his legs off the mattress, sitting for a few dazed, bleary seconds before forcing himself to his feet. He rubbed his forehead, trying to focus his eyes. “Who’s there?” “It’s Jaka,” came the voice from behind his door. “Will you let me in? It's awfully wet out here.” Still holding the top his head, Takua grabbed the doorknob and pulled, revealing his soaking wet friend. Takua stared at him, his sharp, lime-green eyes blinking, not truly understanding what was happening yet. It was a moment before he spoke. “Why… so early…?” “Did you forget? Today’s the day!” Jaka replied, stepping inside, as if that explained everything. He grabbed the towel Takua kept hanging on the back of his door, patting his Kakama dry before looking back to his friend. He was met with a blank, groggy stare, and so Jaka went on. “The Spring Solstice?” “Uh… yeah. That’s today, what about it?” Jaka looked at him, his brow furrowing as he sighed. “... All you can eat for five Widgets? Down at the Twisted Nail?” “Ah! Mata Nui!” Takua jumped up, coming alive at the thought of a good breakfast deal. He started to wash his Pakari in the grimy sink, making himself almost presentable. “Is Talim working?” he asked. “I don’t know, probably?” Jaka tapped his foot impatiently. “Does it matter? Hurry up or we're going to miss it!” “Yeah, yeah.” Takua rummaged through his nightstand, grabbing a handful of Widgets before following Jaka out, shutting the door behind him, and the two began to make their way to the town square. A few minutes later and they had arrived, moving briskly down the hill as the village’s center came into view. Everything that happened in Le-Koro happened here, in this dirt and cobblestone square, surrounded by tall buildings and even taller trees. Platforms and bridges were scattered throughout the thick branches, lending a certain level of verticality to the space — the most notable among them being Turaga Matau’s house, nestled a few stories up in the far corner. But the vast majority of business took place on ground level, where the marketplace and various official buildings sat, all surrounding an open space with a small fountain at its center, shaped like a Suva. Takua glanced at the fountain as they approached — he’d heard a rumor about it, once, when he was little. An urban legend, saying the fountain was actually Le-Suva, the mythical shrine that, ages ago, held the great Toa Lewa’s Kanohi masks. The dome-shaped stone gave the Toa of Air access to all kinds of powers, helping him and the other Toa to fight Rahi, Bohrok, and Rahkshi, in the end defeating Makuta and awakening Mata Nui, after a long, magnificent, and glorious battle. But Takua shook his head, pulling himself back to the world at hand. It was only an urban legend, after all. It was here, as they passed the open space beyond the fountain, that the Twisted Nail sat — a run-down, but well-known and well-loved tavern on the corner opposite the Turaga’s home. Its paint was peeling, and its door creaked as Takua and Jaka opened it, but instantly the quiet, wet, rainy morning was replaced with warm firelight and friendly chatter — the result of many people starting their holiday with a hearty breakfast, and an even heartier drink. It took Takua only a second to scan the crowded room, his mask lighting up as he found his friend, a young girl about his age, carrying a large tray of food upon her arm. “Hey, Talim!” he called out, waving to catch her attention. She looked up, confused at first, but a smile quickly spread across her mask as she recognized him. “Takua!” she chimed as she set down her tray at a table, placing its dishes in front of a group of hungry Matoran. Takua and Jaka approached just as she had finished, and she turned her attention to the two friends, wiping a thin layer of sweat from her brow. “Got up early this morning, did you?” “Yeah… only because I was there as his wake-up call,” Jaka replied before Takua could open his mouth, rolling his shoulders as he stifled a sigh. “As always." "Aw," Talim smiled, glancing from him to Takua, then back again. "Where would he be without you, Jaka?" she replied, only half-joking. "Still in bed, probably.” “Hey,” Takua interjected, crossing his arms. “I would’ve made it one way or another. I’m… very passionate about affordable breakfast.” “Yeah?” Talim laughed, clearly enjoying giving him a hard time. She moved seamlessly to the next table, this time unloading drinks to another eager group of customers. “You know, Takua, a lot of things are a lot more affordable if you have a job.” Takua followed her from a distance, careful to keep the conversation going while giving her enough space to work. “Oh, you didn’t hear?” he replied, a smug look on his face. “I actually do have a job.” Talim raised an eyebrow, intrigued, but perhaps also a little skeptical. “…Really?” “Oh no…” Jaka put a hand on his mask. “Don’t tell me Raipu hired you again.” And Takua looked back at his friend, his expression asking why he always had to be like this. “I’m a great employee.” “That construction site? Again?” Talim laughed. “I’m sure you are, Takua… whenever you decide to show up, at least,” she said with a smirk, pushing past him as she turned to head for the tavern’s kitchen. “Well, go on, find a seat. I’ll be right there,” she called back, already grabbing more plates, already serving more, hungry Matoran. Takua and Jaka walked over to an empty booth in the far corner — one of the only open spots in the place — and sat down. With his back to the wall, Takua surveyed the busy room, plopping his elbows on the sturdy wooden table, before looking back to see Jaka, giving him a very unique, a very quizzical look. “…What?” Jaka flicked his eyes back and forth between Takua and the space behind him, where Talim was busy working. Takua shrugged, repeating himself. “Um… okay?” Jaka rolled his eyes and huffed. “You,” he said, then nodded his head in Talim’s direction. “…And her.” “Oh, come on!” Takua replied. “She’s only mean to people she likes. Don’t deny it.” “We’re just friends.” Jaka snorted. Talim soon came over to the booth to take their orders, and Takua and Jaka each requested a three-course breakfast. All of it was quickly eaten, and so another three courses were ordered, followed by a plate of fruitcake, and then — because why not — yet one more round, this time of freshly baked apple pie. And In the end, the managers at the Twisted Nail grew a little frustrated by the loss of food, and Talim, ever observant as she was, took it upon herself to scold Takua for hiding plates under the table so he might take them home for later meals. But, with a wink and a smile, she kept the matter between them, and even managed to slip Takua a small carry-out box when the other servers weren’t looking. Takua scooped his pie into the box, smirking at Jaka, who was rolling his eyes again, embarrassed to be associated with him. But the moment Talim walked away, Jaka looked back to his friend, this time sporting his own smug smile. “I’m telling you,” he leaned back in his bench, resting a hand on his full belly, nodding to Takua’s small carton. “She wouldn’t do that for anyone.” It was Takua’s turn to roll his eyes. “Whatever you say, Jaka.” Takua was, in appearance, a rather attractive Matoran, though not the tall, strong, and broad type one would expect. He was of average height and was thin, but not so thin as to be considered skinny. The mixed green and black of his armor suggested Le-Matoran, with a mix of Onu-Matoran descent, though no one really knew his roots. His jet-black Pakari fit him rather well, despite him having it his whole life, and he carried himself with good posture and pride. He seemed to have a way of catching his peer’s attention, although their interest always faded as they recognized him, knowing that in the end, he was still Takua — and nothing good would ever come out of him. Jaka, on the other hand, was not quite as much of a slacker, or a trouble maker as Takua. He was a bit more empathetic and thought about others more often than his friend — and therefore had much less of an ego. He was slightly shorter, slightly heavier, and was a slightly deeper, more forested green than Takua. Hints of amber suggested Ta-Matoran descent somewhere along the way, though it was unknown to him. He wore a Kakama and had kind, patient, forest green eyes — the sort that were always there for you, but didn’t inspire any kind of mystery. Unlike Takua, he didn’t ever seem to catch anyone’s attention — but to be fair, that was often the way he liked it. All in all — as Talim liked to point out whenever they were together — the two friends made an interesting pair, to say the least. After their hearty breakfast they sat around and chatted with other Matoran at the Twisted Nail, hanging out and happily wasting the morning away, until the door opened one last time before the five-Widget special ended. An older figure walked in, wearing a tunic and carrying a staff with an ancient, decorative saw on one end. Everyone knew him, for he was the great Turaga, the kind and loving and noble leader of Le-Koro, with a friendly face who had guided their village for generations: Turaga Matau. And so, as heads turned, as the tavern slowly realized who had arrived, the Turaga quietly shuffled his way to a small stage at one end of the tavern, smiling and waving to friends along the way. He stepped up to the platform, pausing for a moment as he took in his surroundings, and then, with one, two, three raps of his staff against the hard wood floor, he announced his presence, kindly requesting the attention of everyone present. Takua looked up as the tavern grew quiet, all eyes now pausing on the Turaga, hesitantly, eagerly, awaiting his words. But Takua was the odd one out, instead choosing to sink lower in his chair. The Turaga cleared his throat. “Citizens and friends of Le-Koro,” he announced, his voice old and scratchy, yet still full of life. “I realize that I should have picked a more public spot if I wanted to talk to the entire population…” he paused, looking out to the back of the room, where even the cooks had paused their work. “…But then again, this always was my favorite restaurant.” A short cheer erupted from the kitchen staff behind the main counter. The Turaga smiled. “I come here today, to celebrate this Spring Solstice, and to wish you all another grand year. May the earth give you her fruit, may the sky give you her breath, and may the water give you her blessing.” Another round of cheers went around the room. “Also! I wish to honor someone here today. I wish to recognize someone I know… someone special.” “Oh no,” Takua whispered to himself, averting his gaze as the Turaga’s eyes drifted around the room, before finally finding him, locking on even as Takua stared at the floor. He sank lower in his booth. But the Turaga went on. “Although he can act unorthodox at times, and some may even look down upon him, he is one that I personally hold dear.” He said affectionately before he paused, and all eyes followed his gaze, each Matoran looking around, until the entire tavern's attention fell on Takua, who was now trying his best to become liquid and melt into his seat. All was quiet, all was silent for a few, long, terrible seconds as Takua refused to take the hint. He sank lower and lower, flushing red behind his mask, his chin against his chest as he stared at the table in front of him, unblinking as he avoided any sort of eye contact. Across the room, someone coughed. A metal fork clinked against a plate. Matau sighed, finally breaking the silence. “Takua, will you please come up?” And Takua squeezed his eyes shut, allowing himself a quick grimace as he got up from his chair. “Takua, yeah!” “Hey, there he is!” Cheers erupted from a few people and Takua managed to crack an awkward smile. He made his way through the tables and stepped up onto the stage as Matau put a light arm around his shoulders. "You're so embarrassing," Takua whispered in the Turaga’s ear, faking a smile towards the crowd. “How’d you know I’d be here?” "I had Jaka bring you of course,” Matau grinned, but unlike Takua’s, his was sincere. “And stop being so shy, everyone here is a friend, you know that." Takua shot a glare across the room at Jaka, who was chortling into his drink. “As you may know,” the Turaga continued with his speech. “Takua was brought into my care when he was found alone in the woods, by a little girl named Talim. In fact, I believe she is here today. Are you here Talim?” She stood up and took a bow from the opposite end of the room. A few hoots and cheers came out for her. “Ah, yes, there she is, now a beautiful young Matoran, of course.” He turned back to Takua. “Anyway, I adopted this young one, and taught him the ways of the world, until he was old enough to go out on his own. And I may be biased, but I believe he has grown into a fine Matoran, and I feel it is finally time for me to give him my blessing,” he paused, his Matatu beaming. “Anything to say, Takua?” “Uhh…” Takua blinked, staring out at the dozens of people, trying to force his brain to work. He gulped. “…Thanks.” A chuckle spread across the crowd. “So be it!” Matau grinned again. “And so, I give Takua a gift today, one that has been in my possession for a long time, after an old friend entrusted me to keep it safe.” And Matau pulled from his pocket a black jewel, cut so it had six long sides, each ending in a sharp point on the bottom and top. It was attached on one end to a thin silver chain, which he unlatched as he held it out for Takua to see. Knotted vines were etched into the metal where the stone met the chain — a remarkable piece of craftmanship, with intricate, ornate detail. The Turaga spoke loud enough so the crowd could hear, but he turned to face Takua, showing that these words were meant for him. “The knots represent my blessing and love; the ties of unity, of family, be it though blood or simple circumstance. The chain represents strength; how you must use it and protect those you care about, as is your duty. And finally, the stone represents eternity; though one day we all must leave this world, our memory, our actions, and our destiny remain — written in our own little space, among the stars.” Takua looked up, reading the Turaga’s mask — the being who had raised him — and he suddenly realized that behind his smile, behind his joyous blessing, there was… something more. Matau’s eyes shone brighter in the torchlight, a mixture of pride and… maybe sadness, something that told Takua Matau had thought about this for a long time. And, now that he was aware of that, Takua… he... he still didn’t know what to say. “And so, I bless you, in the name of Mata Nui, and in the name of our great three virtues. I bless you, Takua, with Unity, Duty… and Destiny.” Cheers erupted from all corners of the room, and Takua stood there, feeling suddenly warm in his chest. Even though he could be somewhat of a misfit, he was still loved by all the commoners at this dirty, grimy tavern called the Twisted Nail. People began to clap, bang on tables and clink their tankards together, all in the name of Takua. He swallowed as he looked at Matau, honored, but still a bit confused. “Turaga… I don’t deserve this.” “Go ahead, put it on,” Matau insisted, a big grin on his face as he held out the necklace. The silver chain passed into Takua’s hands, and he let it slide through his fingers, feeling its smooth, cold texture, watching as it twinkled in the firelight. Then, cautiously, he placed the chain around his neck, and took the jewel in his hands. The cheers continued, and he couldn’t help but crack a smile. He gazed at the black stone, faintly gleaming in the firelight, and slowly, carefully, he brushed his finger against it. And all sound was suddenly gone. Everything faded from Takua’s head, and the earth, the air, the very world around him was still and homed in, focusing on the stone. That cold, black, eternal stone. He heard a heartbeat, followed by a dying whisper. Thump-thp. He’s here…. Takua’s vision flickered, and there he was again, standing with Turaga Matau in the Twisted Nail, everyone else cheering for him, the world around him suddenly back to normal. That brief second of… whatever that had been — was gone. What… what was that? He asked himself. “Come!” Matau boomed over the noise. “Let us celebrate this wonderful holiday! Drinks are on me today!” And the cheers grew even louder as he patted Takua on the back. “Go have fun with your friends, my boy. I’ll be around, if you need me.” Takua wiped the puzzled look from his face. “Thank you… Turaga.” And with the stone hanging from his neck, he stepped off the platform, making his way through the tables, and sat back down at his booth.

Welcome to the review topic for my epic, The Herald of Darkness! This is the place where I will post my personal comments, thoughts, updates, and whatever else may come across my mind, so long as it pertains to the epic itself. And it is also where you can post your own thoughts, which is pretty neat. So please don’t be shy, feedback is always welcome, and I would absolutely love to know that you think of my story. I would like to take a moment to say that this piece is a large number of years in the making, and is in essence my love letter to Bionicle, the franchise/story/toy line that I owe a solid chunk of my childhood too. That being said, however — I have taken some artistic liberties with the Bionicle canon, but not so much that it feels off-putting (I hope). I followed Bionicle’s story a lot less after the 2001-2003 era, and so a lot of what you’ll find in this epic will stay true to the common beliefs/canon of that time (Mata Nui is a great spirit, not a giant robot, and Makuta is his brother, not a wispy cloud of antidermis). Also, I’ve written the Matoran to seem a bit more human (both genders in all tribes, with the ability to eat, sleep, drink, and, you guessed it — love), as I think this allows for more relatable characters. But aside from those changes, I do try to ground this story as recognizably ‘Bionicle,’ with familiar characters, settings, and themes. This is fanfiction, after all. But moving on to the story itself! The Herald of Darkness mostly takes place on the island of Mata Nui, many years after the Mask of Light saga. With Mata Nui awakened and their destiny fulfilled, our famous Toa Mata have long since disappeared, and the Matoran have lived happily for years under the guidance of their respective Turaga. The land is at peace, the Koro have grown into cities, smaller villages have appeared in the countryside, and seemingly everywhere, our lovable, mask-wearing villagers have prospered. But as time marches relentlessly forward, the events of history have faded, lingering into legend, morphing into myth as the Turaga grow ever older. Only they now whisper of Makuta’s darkness, seemingly rising again in the corners of their vision. Only they now speak of plans and prophesies, the knowledge of the stars, the secrets of Mata Nui that remain — after all this time — uncovered. Only they still remember the dark times of the past, and what they must do to prevent them in the future. And, beginning in the quiet, isolated village of Le-Koro, this is the world that we find ourselves in. …So yeah. I really tried to capture the smallness of the 2001 saga in my writing, when the island of Mata Nui was a grand, wild place, full of mystery. I wanted to create my own Bionicle story, one that tells its own tale, while still relating back to the canon in interesting (Exciting? Surprising?) ways. But, being the person that I am, there will be some dark moments, darker than most of what exists in the lore. It is called The Herald of Darkness for a reason, after all. So in short, this story will follow a group of Matoran as they travel across the land, on a quest to… save the world? Something like that. There’re bad guys, good guys, monsters, explosions, battles, adventure, and more stuff that I hope you’ll find — at the very least — interesting. And again, feedback is always welcome, so let me know what you think! I have a linked Table of Contents below, and you can find the story here, as well as in my signature (click the picture for the epic, and ‘Review Topic’ for… yup, this review topic). Thank you so much for reading, and as always, I do hope you enjoy it. ~Table of Contents~ Prologue

Author's Note: For a brief summary and description of the world that this story takes place in, as well as a linked Table of Contents, feel free to visit the Review Topic. Thanks for reading! ~Prologue~ It was a typical day in the city of Le-Koro. The sun was shining through the great canopy of leaves, and a slight breeze blew white fluffy clouds across the gentle sky. Matoran milled about the city streets, vendors hocked their products, farmers plowed the land, fishermen cast their lures into the jungle’s streams and rivers, and as Turaga Matau awoke, everything told him that it was going to be just another day in the city of trees. But the Turaga knew better. Today, he was expecting an important package. One that was so special, no one else knew about its delivery except the other five Turaga and a handful of Matoran who were tasked to help with the ordeal. The Turaga lay in his bed, staring up at the oak ceiling of his home, lost in thought for a moment or two.Yes, he thought to himself, today was a very special day indeed. It was a day of silent celebration, for it had finally been found. For years, the Turaga had searched in secret for his incoming package, and had experienced no successes until just a few days ago, when Turaga Whenua happened to come across it in the hands of a vendor. Realizing its importance, Whenua promptly bought the object and contacted the rest of the Turaga. The six had agreed that Le-Koro was the best place to hide it; for the eyes of Makuta were everywhere, but vision can be cut extremely short in the trees. And so the Turaga of Le-Koro rose up from his bed and washed his Mahiki as he prepared for the oncoming day. He grabbed his favorite walking staff, shaped like a decorative buzz saw, and stepped out of his hut. This sunshine warmed his face as he gazed down at his city, and he smiled. The buildings rose up from the ground and from the trees, intertwining with the natural forest, yet still standing out. From the platform his hut sat upon, he looked down on the town center, a bustling square of merchants, vendors, and otherwise happy and busy Matoran. Climbing down to the ground level, he joined the people. They called out his name and he smiled and waved back. He recognized many faces, but Le-Koro had grown much in recent years, so he didn’t know all of them. Casually, he walked to where a wagon was attached to two Mahi, which waited for him patiently at the edge of the square. Using his walking staff for balance, he climbed into the driver’s seat and took the reins. “Turaga!” A young voice called out to him from somewhere in the crowd. Matau looked around for the source of the voice, and smiled when he saw a little girl come running toward him and the wagon. “Well, well! How are you today, Talim?” “Okay I guess," she said plainly, but then lit up with a polite, big smile. "How are you, Turaga?” “I’m just fine," he bent down to talk to the girl. "Why are you only okay, little one? It is a beautiful day out. You should be great!” Talim was near to his heart, for she always found interesting things going on in the city, and always made sure that the Turaga went with her. She held her hands behind her back and looked down at the ground. “The butcher won’t let me play in his kitchen…” she said sadly. “Now, now, Talim,” he replied. “Don’t you think it’s a little dangerous to be playing there? The butcher uses many sharp knives. You could hurt yourself.” “But it’s fun…” she drifted off, and her eyes lit up again with an idea. “Will you tell me the story of Takua and the Toa of light?” she asked. “I’m sorry, I don’t have time for that right now,” Matau looked at her for a moment. “But, tell you what. Would you like to ride in this wagon with me? I’m going off into the forest!” Talim grinned ear to ear. “Yes! I love the forest!” The Turaga smiled. “Well come on up here!” He held out his hand to give the little girl a boost, and she happily bounced into the seat next to him. “Let’s go! Let’s go!” she chanted excitedly. “To the forest!” Matau smiled as he pulled on the Mahi’s reigns, and they started to move forward. They made their way through the city streets and into the outskirts, and all the while Talim went on about how she was a princess traveling through a magical land full of mystical and dangerous Rahi. Soon, the duo left the city behind them, and they were alone in the quiet woods of Le-Wahi. The trees towered over them, ancient, silent, and wise. The Turaga soon reached his destination, a small clearing in the woods that the road ran straight through, and he motioned for the Mahi to stop. Quickly, Talim hopped out and began to play in the long grass. “Now don’t go too far, there’s dangerous Rahi out here!” he called after her. She said nothing in reply, but instead skipped around, doing nothing but having fun. Matau smiled as he lay back in his chair and waited for his package to arrive. He waited for the better part of an hour, watching the clouds slowly roll across the sky, and when Talim was tired of playing in the grass, she climbed back into the seat next to him. For a few minutes, they watched the clouds together, but the girl quickly fell asleep. Curled up on the seat and breathing softly, Talim didn’t hear the approach of another cart, for which Matau got up to greet. The cart was about the same size as his, and was driven by three Ko-Matoran. It came towards Matau as he stood quietly in the tall grass on the side of the road. The Mahi pulling the cart slowed to a stop, and the three Matoran got out. The middle one wore an Akaku, and carried a plain iron box in his hands. “Kokani,” the Turaga said calmly as he bowed to the Matoran holding the box. “I see you finally convinced the other Turaga to trust you.” “You are correct,” Kokani said plainly. He held out the box to the Turaga. “Nuju sends his blessing, and may you stay out of the Makuta’s gaze.” He paused, his eyes flicking back and forth between the iron box and Matau, but then went on. “He also asks that I accompany you back to Le-Koro for the next few days, just in case anything should happen.” “I send my thanks. And yes, that would be a good idea.” He took the box that Kokani offered and stared at it quietly for a moment. Kokani took the top off for him, and Matau looked at a small black jewel, attached at one end to a decorative necklace. He gazed at the stone’s interior and thought about all that had happened in order for this moment to come. The stone sat in silence, almost as if it was staring back at him. Matau shook his head, and the moment ended. He took the stone and fastened it around his neck. It quietly rested against his chest, and he looked back to Kokani. “I suppose we should head back then.” Kokani nodded. The two climbed into Matau’s wagon, and the other Ko-Matoran turned their kart around and started back the way they came, heading for Ko-Koro. Kokani looked into the passenger seat to find Talim, still curled up and fast asleep. He stared at the Turaga. “You brought along a child?” “She’s such a sweet girl,” Matau replied. “Do you realize how dangerous this could turn out to be? What if Makuta knows we’re here?” he asked, almost as if he was scolding the Turaga. Matau calmly put his hand on Kokani’s shoulder. “It’ll be fine. You shouldn’t worry so much.” Kokani said nothing, and instead climbed into the back of the wagon. Matau pulled on the Mahi’s reigns, and the animals turned around, pulling the wagon with them. Slowly, they made their way back to the city. By the time they made it back to the Turaga’s home, it was a bit past midday. Talim, now awake, hopped out of the cart, waved goodbye to the Turaga and her new-found friend, Kokani. Merrily, she skipped through Le-Koro’s busy square until she was out of sight. Matau and Kokani climbed up to the platform of the Turaga’s house, and the Turaga brought out cold drinks for the two of them. They sat on the edge of the platform without incident, and watched the people of Le-Koro go about their business below. “It’s strange how things worked out,” Kokani stated. Matau said nothing, and so he went on. “We’ve gone after every possible rumor, followed dangerous Rahi all around the island, searched the camps of Kryll, and lost so many Matoran along the way. And then, all of a sudden, Turaga Whenua just finds the Atouri in the hands of an everyday vendor. Just by chance.” Matau took a drink from his cup and gazed at the sun, slowly creeping its way toward the horizon. “Life is strange, Kokani,” he finally said. The two sat there for the better part of what remained of the day, talking about events that had happened since their last encounter, and catching up on everything they had missed in each other's lives. The sun slowly descended toward the treetops, and soon the two beings found themselves bathed in the pink-orange light of sunset. The business below them started to slow as shops began to close for the night. After all, to the Matoran it was just a typical day in the City of Trees. They didn’t know that an ancient and powerful artifact had entered their home, nor did they know why. Only Matau and Kokani spoke of the dangers of Makuta, for everyone else only knew of such a power in legends and stories. And as the last of the shops closed their doors and the sun sank below the trees, Matau and Kokani got up from where they sat to turn in for the night. But the unique events of this ordinary day were not yet over, and Matau turned around as he heard the soft sound of light feet coming toward him. Looking over the edge of his platform, Talim came running towards his hut. This wasn’t her playful run, however. The little girl ran with purpose, and so he quickly climbed down to meet her on the ground. “Turaga!” she cried out. “Come quick!” “What’s wrong Talim?” Talim slid to a halt and grabbed the Turaga’s hand, pulling him so he would move faster. “Just come!” Kokani looked down at them, and Matau called up. “I’ll be back, Kokani. Don't worry, I'm sure everything’s fine.” Matau followed Talim through the winding city streets, all the way past the outskirts, until the last of the houses disappeared, and they were surrounded only by trees and darkness. Talim led the Turaga through a bramble patch, and a glowing yellow light appeared in front of them. Urging him to move faster, Talim pulled him through more underbrush until they found themselves in a small clearing. “Look! Look what I found!” Talim said excitedly. Matau's eyes widened. There, in front of him, sat a Matoran. He held Talim’s lightstone, and the yellow light reflected off of his black Pakari. He looked extremely confused, and looked up at the Turaga with big, bright green eyes. From the looks of him, he was about Talim’s age. “Oh my,” Matau said, approaching the confused Matoran. “What’s your name, little one?” The Matoran shied away from him. “Come now, don’t be afraid,” he said, offering out his hand. “What’s your name?” “I…I don’t know,” the Matoran stuttered. The Turaga eyed him up and down. From the looks of him, he was a Le-Matoran. “Well,” he said. “You must have a name if you are to come back with us to Le-Koro.” The nervous Matoran looked up at him, then at Talim. “I don’t know my name,” he said quietly. Matau frowned. This was strange indeed. “Hmm…” He thought about what he should do with the Matoran. He was obviously too young to be out in the forest alone this late in the day. Perhaps he had run away from home, and in the process fell and hit his head, affecting his memory. He had to do something. After a few minutes of thought, he decided he would take the Matoran back with him, and he would take care of him, at least until they could find his family. “But what shall we call you…?” he pondered out loud. Talim tugged on his hand, begging for his attention. Matau leaned down to hear what she had to say. With both hands around her mouth, she whispered into his ear. He smiled and stood back up. “Alright, that’s fitting enough,” he said. “It probably won’t stick, but for now we will call you Takua, in honor of the Toa of Light.” Takua sat on the ground, holding the lightstone. Turaga Matau offered his hand once again, and nervously he took it. “Come now, little one,” Matau said. “Let’s take you home.”