So I'm going to be writing this. And it's probably going to get pretty dark and stuff by the time it's done.
But I think it'll be fun.
I am Toa. My name? I just gave it to you: Toa. That is all I am called here, for truly, that’s all I am.
They have never given us names. That would be silly, like trying to name every grain of sand on the beaches of Ga-Wahi. Utterly ridiculous.
Ever since the dawn of time, when the Great Spirit Mata Nui graced us with our lives, there has been one in control. We never knew who or what he was, and we weren’t allowed to ask. He demanded us to call him Speaker. And he deemed it well that Toa existed, and he wished for there to be more.
It was discovered by him that a Toa could create Toa Stones, which would enable six Matoran to become Toa. It was never told to us what became of the “donor” Toa, but we didn’t care. We had six new Toa, and we were happy with that.
Not two days ago, I was a Po-Matoran. Now I am a Toa.
I stood next to my worktable, carving an eye for a Toa statue that was to go up in Kini-Koro, one of the thousands there, dotted across the landscape. Some had been turned into protodermis fountains, some had been set up as memorials.
But all were there to remind us of the high priority, creating as many Toa as possible.
I opened a drawer on my workstation and pulled out a chisel, preparing for the detail work, when I was approached by a brown Toa. I recognized him as an old once-matoran friend of mine, Teharen. I looked up at him, slightly hesitantly. Even though I knew him before, his being a Toa, it still unnerved me.
“Hello, Retras,” he said to me.
I nodded. “Hello, Teharen.”
“It’s time for you to become a Toa,” he said abruptly.
I looked up in shock. Sure, his appearance here was unprecedented, but I had decided that he had come to catch up, or something. But becoming a Toa. He had always dreamed of being one, and the statistics, well, the fact was that eventually, every Matoran would become a Toa at one point or another in their lives. But to actually become one was…unthinkable. But what an honor.
“Thank you,” I stuttered, feeling that I should kneel, or…something. I started to bend my knee after setting down my tools, but he lifted me up by my shoulder.
“Come with me,” he said. “Your time to become a Toa is now, and we must be swift. Speaker doesn’t like to wait.”
Edited by Master of all Kopekes, Jan 27 2014 - 03:32 PM.