IC: Wokodin – Cemetery
I knew I’d find you here, sooner or later, the gargantuan Toa of Stone thought bitterly.
It was well known that Wokodin, sergeant of the Sentinels, held little love for the tarnished, would-be paladin that he once mentored. He had once spent his days and nights training a group of venerable heroes – a group that Ra’lhen had the honor of leading. Wokodin’s son, Wokapu had traveled and sparred with the red and blue Toa. Between them and the other four Toa, Wokodin had envisioned a clean victory over the Master of Shadows, scarcely a few years after the First Toa were killed. His warriors in his deftly crafted Toa Team were young, quick-witted, obedient, and powerful. And this one Toa managed to wrench it all during the one time where room for error was at its most minimal.
Wokodin had told this story to many a guardsmen, and told them once more when word spread that the Toa formerly known as Ronkshou was now serving the village that he had sought to destroy a little more than a year past.
And as if to pour salt in a fresh wound, Ra’lhen had evidently been assigned to Wokodin’s command; fit to serve wherever the sergeant needed him.
As bad as it sounded, Wokodin knew that this was a blessing. For reasons kept secret from everyone, the sergeant knew that it would be wise to keep Ra’lhen close… but maybe not too close.
“Such a depressing inscription if I say so myself,” Wokodin said, his shadow extending almost behind the gargantuan Toa. Ra’lhen looked up at him with eyes that did not seem to recognize him at first. Then, it clicked.
“I suggested a poem,” Wokodin said.
“Here lies a carver named Hafu
Caught up in a bit of a snafu
His hands worked the best
He trumped all the rest
Especially that idiot Ahkmou.”
Ra’lhen, snorted in amusement as he rose to his feet. Without a word, Wokodin embraced the younger Toa in the way that a father would. After a silent moment, they separated from each other.
“Hewkii didn’t like it. Apparently the Comet Ball Traitor’s feelings still mattered at the time,” Wokodin said with a hint of bitterness.
“You look like you have been holding up as well as you could, all things considered,” Wokodin said, hands on each of Ra’lhen’s shoulders. “I don’t know how many times people have told you this, if at all, but you must know that there is no justifiable ill will towards you for this grave that we stand beside. You didn’t kill him. You watched a monster do it. End of story”
Wokodin lauded himself for finishing that statement with a straight face. Wokodin knew that Ra’lhen could be justifiably blamed if the people knew what he knew. But at the heart of it, Wokodin knew that the Vo-Toa had little fault of his own for the master carver’s murder.
“At any rate, brother, I’m here because I’ve been assigned to be your sergeant,” Wokodin, “And now my duty beseeches me to assign you to the port town of Ostia for patrols and reports. If you are up to it now, I’d like for you to come with me to my office to discuss the details of your post. After all, this town didn’t exist when you were last here, and there’s a lot you’ll need to know in order to serve those good men and women effectively”
The younger Toa stood and watched the grave for a moment, and then looked to Wokodin, wearing an expression of rock-hard resolve.
“I’m ready, sir,” Ra’lhen said, though Wokodin noticed his voice waver, “Let’s go”
Your heart is ready, but is your mind? Thought Wokodin as they walked towards the exit of the cemetery. Ostia would be perfect for Ra’lhen. He’d be far away from the Po-Matoran who still feared and hated this Vo-Toa, but he would be close enough so that Wokodin could keep a watchful eye on him.
In months past, Wokodin would have sworn that Ra’lhen would end up dead, and indeed, Wokodin sought to prove his loyalty to the Po-Koro Guard by taking in Ronkshou and Kohra dead or alive. He wondered if Ra’lhen held that memory, of if it was whisked away along with the Infection from his mask.
Still, at any rate, Ra’lhen was alive.
Which means Wokodin would have to be careful.