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Nuju Metru

By Nuju Metru
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They Pahrak-Kal Attacks!

They

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IC: Krios

 

"That sounds terrible," I stated, the periodical I had been reading returned to the table next to my chair. She had a certain wounded air about her. More than likely it was the bandages crisscrossing her body at different points. "Tell you what, I know a proper hospital in Ko-Wahi. I can get you there."

 

Puroi was more than likely dead, I had decided, and so continuing on my road of swindling and conning I found the wounded toa of fire far more of an attractive offer than a corpse in Mangaia. I'd leave a note at the inn in case Puroi, by some small miracle, happened to survive and was up for giving me more of his money. Otherwise it was time to pull the curtain on that story and move on to the next.

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Onaku

Onaku

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IC: Cetis

"Nah, don't sweat it, I'm fiiiiiaaaaugggh!!! Again with the nui cursed chest pains! Alright, Ko-Koro it is." Cetis gave out a long sigh. Who would have thought that a simple trip to Onu-Koro for some supplies would result in a couple of stitches, a karzahni-ton of bandages and a cast around her foot. Not to mention the Vortixx... something wasn't quite right about him. It could be nothing, but she was on her guard, although not visibly so.

Edited by Toa Onaku

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They Pahrak-Kal Attacks!

They

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IC: Krios

 

"Allow me." I spoke gently and let my arm wrap around her muscular shoulders and led her from the healer's home. When questioned on the bill I laid it to rest on Puroi's credit and explained my friend would be more than happy to cover any fees incurred for services. A down payment of a few widgets kept a smile on the matoran's face and I, carrying and yet not carrying my injured "friend," left the establishment penny-sore but paid in full.

 

"If we're going to Ko-Koro perhaps it'd be best to know each other's names. I am Krios. You?"

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Geardirector Kohrak-Kal Shattered

Geardirector

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OOC: Ferron, Khervos and Tuli from Ko-Wahi

 

IC:

 

Ferron heard the waves crash upon the shores of the Papa-Nihu Reef, and in that he felt the undeniable comfort of home, and he knew that it was the sound of her element, a living testament to what she meant to him, that gave him that feeling. Maybe that was why so many of his recent crossroads in life had started here, because it was she that was his first.

 

He shook his head and laughed quietly to himself, feeling Tuli shift on his shoulder where she sat, Khervos said nothing, but was walking calmly.

 

When they reached the shoreline, Tuli noticed Ferron's gaze was drawn to the sea, and she started to wonder if he was still mourning Tarika somewhere deep within.

 

Truth be told, he always would, but there was something else on his mind now.

 

"You go on ahead," he said as he put Tuli down, "there's someone I need to talk to"

 

Tuli raised her eyebrows at that, but Ferron didn't seem depressed or angry... quite the contrary he seemed quite peaceful. Thanks to another nudge from Khervos she removed herself from the scene along with him.

 

Ferron turned to the empty shoreline, and after a pause he yelled out.

 

"Why don't you stop dragging it out and show yourself already?"

 

An exultant chuckle sounded from behind him, and sure enough when he turned his head and looked he saw a lean form, green like the forest and willowy likes its trees, and with a grin that could only be described as “wild”.

 

He was Brutop, Bo-Toa of the Toa Marok, and as usual he just had to have the final say.

 

“Way to steal my thunder, buddy, at least that part of you hasn’t changed”

 

“I might start changing that too eventually, and then you’d have no one to banter with” Ferron parried, Brutop covered his open mouth in mock surprise.

 

“You wouldn’t” he said with bulging eyes, Ferron met his gaze staunchly.

 

“You never know, do you?”

 

“Guess not, or do you? Maybe I know that you know that I’ll never know that you know what I know and…” he stopped.

 

“Confused yourself again, did you?” Ferron asked with a raised eyebrow. Brutop shrugged.

 

“No rebuttal, really?”

 

“Hey, the countdown’s not over yet”

 

“Face it, I win, again”

 

“Nuh-uh”

 

Ferron sighed, not taking the prompt that Brutop had extended to him. Brutop’s own hands fell limply to his sides.

 

“Man, Ferron, where’d the Snarkmaster go?”

 

Ferron sighed.

 

“I think he’s been gone for a while, to be honest. But I am alive again, at least”

 

“Right… alive,” Brutop said with a mischievous grin, “alive as in crazy about her you mean?”

 

Ferron shook his head.

 

“I don’t know yet about Rhea, but I am grateful for what she gave me, and what she told me…”

 

Brutop chuckled. “That has to be one of the lamest pick-up lines I’ve ever heard.”

 

The Bo-Toa adopted a high-pitched, effeminate voice as he beamed at Ferron.

 

“Look at me, I exist. And I’m hot. Do me”

 

…

 

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t just hear that”

 

“You’re already pretending you are hearing it, Ferron. I’m a figment of your imagination just as much as the next guy. You need to get your head together, because quite frankly you’re not too far from being waaaay too many peas short of a pod.”

 

Brutop’s Kakama twisted into a disturbed sneer as he leaned ever so nonchalantly against a nearby rock.

 

“Look, man, I get that you’ve had a lot of ###### to wade through recently, but you gotta stop being such a downer. Look at me, I’m dead, do you see me complaining?”

 

“Easy for you to say,” Ferron muttered “you got to join the rest of the team in the afterlife”

 

“The afterlife is boring” Brutop protested, “I’d much rather be back here, and feel the wind rush past me while I’m out on a run, take a swim, try and fail to woo Marinna again, I want to live, I loved living. But as I said I can’t do that, I’ve passed on, I’m no more, I’ve ceased to be”

 

Brutop didn’t stop there, oh no, he continued at full force.

 

“I’ve expired and gone to meet my maker, I’m a stiff, bereft of life, I rest in peace, if I didn’t get myself skewered I’d be pushing up daisies. My metabolic processes are now history, I’m off the twig, I’ve kicked the bucket, I’ve shuffled off the mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the friggin choir invisible”

 

“I. AM AN EX. PERSON.” he finished up, leaving the two in absolute, perplexed silence.

 

But after a while, something could be heard.

 

It was a low, rolling thunder, it was Ferron’s laughter, once again brought forth, for the second time in years did the Toa of Iron laugh whole-heartedly in relief.

And he laughed, and Brutop laughed, and all was good.

 

“I’d forgotten how good you were at killing boredom”

 

“Ain’t that the truth” Brutop leered back, grinning.

 

“So how do you feel, better?” he asked, Ferron nodded.

 

“Then my work here is done,” Brutop said, “I just felt you really could use a reminder about things that made you smile once, because it’s important to do that. You’ve come a long way, Ferron, it’s time you took a break and enjoyed yourself."

 

“Yes… a break” Ferron muttered absent-mindedly, before he looked at Brutop again.

 

“Thank you, brother”

 

“You’re welcome, Ferron, see you in the afterlife sometime soon” he said as he disappeared.

 

Ferron waved as the Bo-Toa disappeared, still smiling a little from his reunion with the team’s comedian.

 

He bent down, and picked something up from the ground. The rock he knew had once been stained with the blood of an innocent, she who was now buried deep beneath the sea in eternal rest.

 

“An artefact of what once was, will be the symbol of its end”

 

He put the rock away in his satchel and took off into the tunnels, quiet as the waves on the beach.

Edited by Gyro Gearloose
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Geardirector Kohrak-Kal Shattered

Geardirector

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IC: Ferron (Onu-Kini)

 

Ferron trudged silently through the tunnels of Onu-Wahi, the echoes of his footsteps emanating from behind him like omens of his past, as if the last, fleeting, fractures of his many memories and experiences were slowly losing their grasp on him. Images flared into his head, splitting apart his concentration, as if his past was trying to knock him over and drag him back.

 

Ferron himself wouldn’t have any of it; he’d had enough, simple as that, he’d simply had enough. No more fighting, no more death, from here on out Ferron would be happy to never have to go near anything called “heroics” ever again. He was simply done with it all, he wanted to just go away and rest.

 

And he knew exactly what he had to do to make that a reality.

 

It had been a hard decision, but the winning factor had been his immense feeling of tiredness and loss. No more sacrifices from him, he had nothing left to give.

The stone he’d taken from Zuriana’s place of death was firmly but gently clutched, almost cradled, in his metallic hand. It was now in a sharp obelisk shape after Ferron had gone to work on it, its chiseled surface clearly the work of someone with very capable hands.

 

Ferron could finally see in the distance a warm glow emanating from the end of the tunnel, inviting him in with a warm, soft hue of gold that easily put his mind at ease; this was the right choice to make.

 

The altar to Onua was situated in a large, majestic cave, the structure itself a smaller replica of its much more known cousin on the center of the island, a large cluster of lightstones kept the place lit, and thus beyond the influence of any creatures known to live in Mata Nui’s crust.

 

As Ferron walked up the stairs, the altar slowly edging into his field of vision, he once again found that the echoes of his past continued to hound him. He ignored them as he walked up to the altar, placing his hands on it.

 

Oh, go shove it

 

It was as if he’d mentally shrugged off his demons, for the echoes no longer bothered him, instead carrying with them the empty, hollow sound they were expected to, the world was back to normal again.

 

Ferron sighed once with heavy breath before he placed the stone on the ridge surrounding the altar, the small obelisk was clearly meant to signify something, but there were no inscriptions or carvings on it. Ferron perched his finger on the tip, in that instant feeling a flood of memories and emotions overwhelm him, his sight whiting out and his consciousness blackening.

 

When his eyes opened again, he was no longer at the Onu-Kini, it was white as far as the eye could see, and there was no sound. The dampening silence pressed around him like a tight cloth.

 

“Hello, Ferron”

 

Soft, elegant echoes of footsteps bore witness of a slender, well-toned figure stepping out of the whiteness before Ferron. Tarika was as strikingly beautiful as ever, the delicate curves enhancing her sophisticated grace as she walked up to him, letting a sculpted hand settle on his arm.

 

Ferron almost recoiled in shock at the sensation, he looked at her, seeing the gentle, comforting smile of hers, with a pair of yellow gems radiating from beneath her Mask of Healing to meet the cold, gray light peering through his.

 

“Tarika…,” he asked, “is this real?”

 

Tarika shook her head solemnly, “I’m afraid this is all in your mind, brother, but that doesn’t mean I’m not actually here with you,” she said.

 

“Where are we?” Ferron asked, even as he didn’t take his eyes off Tarika for a second.

 

“Mata Nui was nice enough to allow you this little glimpse into what awaits you, he felt you’d earned as much for all you have endured.”

 

“Is this… is that Artakha that lies beyond?” Ferron asked, peering into the whiteness.

 

“Yes, brother, it is, and it is waiting for you, once your last gift to the world is passed on.”

 

Ferron remained speechless for what must have been an eternity, and didn’t make any reactions until Tarika spoke up again.

 

“We have been watching you from beyond,” she said, settling her other hand on his chest, “you have grown so much”

 

Ferro blushed, a combination of how close they now were, as well as Tarika’s words, but it faded away to be replaced with concern as Tarika’s face darkened. His hands settled on her shoulders, his own face furrowing with worry.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“I’m sorry, Ferron,” she said, “sorry for not sticking around long enough for you to say what you wanted to. I was beautiful to you, and you never got to know if I felt the same thing”

 

“It’s not your fault” Ferron replied, even as he looked away.

 

“Ferron”

 

Ferron turned back to Tarika again, only to be surprised when he felt the sensation of her lips upon his, her soft, tender sweetness grappling with the gentle power of his own. They separated after another eternity, and embraced, her frame conforming to his like water.

 

“This isn’t going to last, is it?” Ferron asked, even as he felt another pang of memories in the back of his mind.

 

“No” Tarika replied, even as she remained in Ferron’s arms.

 

“But I just wanted you to know, until we meet again”

 

“I love you”

 

“I love you too”

 

“Goodbye for now then”

 

“I will be waiting for you”

 

And with that, Ferron gave in to another flood of memories as he returned to the physical world.

 

Ferron the Fe-Matoran, village life, Content.

 

The Toa Marok, Tarika, Love, it truly was, he knew that now.

 

The buzz of the Nui-Kopens’ wings, the screams of pain, the sound of tearing and gnashing, Pain.

 

The encounter with Krell and Zuria, Onu-Koro, Po-Wahi and Kuhrin, Rejuvenation.

 

Life in Onu-Koro, Tuli, blacksmithing, Zuriana, Happiness.

 

Kuhrin’s reemergence, blackmail, the perilous quest, Fear.

 

Zuriana’s death, Kuhrin’s escape, the need for action, Determination.

 

The hunt for Kuhrin, Rhea, Nero, Passion

 

Noka, Kuhrin’s conversion, resignation

 

The end, letting go, Tiredness.

 

Ferron blocked out the stream of memories and emotions, but another lonely tear dripped forth nevertheless. He dove within, ignoring all else, finding his power, strong and harsh as himself, he seized it, and drowned out the flashes of memories by letting the power flow, drift away like sand in the wind. It all went away, the power first, soon followed by all the pain and feelings of wear and tear, the memories returning to flash before his mind’s eye again, but this time as part of the process, as all was channeled into a flow dragging away all the pain and misery, until all that remained was peace, the resonant, silent hum of absolute, spiritual stillness.

 

Ferron opened his eyes, his gaze falling on the glowing obelisk at eye-height; his finger was still perched on it, the obelisk itself having attained a cold, metallic glow that pulsated weakly, bearing witness to the power the stone now held.

 

Ferron grabbed the stone and tucked it away in his satchel, before staggering down the steps methodically, taking his time as he wished. He took one last look at the Kini, his brightly shining prosthetics reflecting the yellow light like flares of gold.

 

Before his mind’s eye, four familiar silhouettes could be seen standing by the altar, with varying degrees of smiles and well-wishing nods in his direction. Ferron smiled back, the nostalgia keeping him firmly rooted in his little fantasy as he gave the four a last wave.

 

“We’ll see you soon” Brutop joked as they disappeared

 

Ferron turned on his heel and began walking back to Onu-Koro, the yellow light of the cave framing the small, slightly hunched over silhouette that came walking out with the distinguished and dignified air of one who had experienced life in its many forms, a peaceful, yet enigmatic and ancient aura surrounding the old man.

 

“And that’s the end of that” thought Ferron, Turaga of Iron.

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Geardirector Kohrak-Kal Shattered

Geardirector

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IC: Ferron (Onu-Koro)

 

Ashiem would soon feel something bump into her at waist height, and when she looked down she'd see a Turaga staggering backwards from the impact, but not falling.

 

Ferron remained still for a second, taking in the sensation of feeling himself be cowed by such a weak impact, he really had let his power go, and things were still pretty disorienting... but it didn't bother him in the slightest.

 

"Sorry about that ma'am" Ferron apologized with a wave, "still not used to this new body"

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Geardirector Kohrak-Kal Shattered

Geardirector

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IC: Ferron (Onu-Koro)

 

"It's a long story, I'm afraid, and I don't really feel like telling it now" Ferron replied as he looked around the corner.

 

"But where are my manners?" he chided himself and offered the Toa a hand.

 

"My name is Ferron, and who might you be?"

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Geardirector Kohrak-Kal Shattered

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IC: Ferron (Onu-Koro)

 

Ferron's gaze softened as he turned to face Ashiem fully, studying her more carefully as he clasped his hands behind his back and adopted a stereotypical "wise man" stance.

 

"I see," he said with a knowing smile, "and what did you have in mind?"

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Geardirector Kohrak-Kal Shattered

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IC: Ferron (Onu-Koro)

 

"Of course, if you'll just follow me"

 

The old man turned on his heel and scampered off, with surprising speed for his new body as he took the lead through the city blocks towards his forge.

 

"It's going be good to come home there again," Ferron thought, "I wonder how Tuli's going to react"

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Geardirector Kohrak-Kal Shattered

Geardirector

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IC: Ferron (Ferron's Forge)

 

"I see" Ferron mumbled thoughtfully as he opened the door to the forge to find that Tuli wasn't there yet. Most likely she was off with Khervos somewhere recuperating after what happened.

 

"Well deserved after what we've been through" Ferron thought as he walked to the counter... which was now a bit too tall for him.

 

"I'll have to make some adjustments" Ferron muttered as he got a crate to stand on.

 

"Alright, something simple with some imprints? What imprints, pray tell?"

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