Masked Temptations

[otter]

The location was different, but the scene was entirely the same as it had been for centuries before. A lone being - old, hunched, a staff laying on the ground near him, looked out over a small pit of sand. Numerous small stones were lying in the center of the pit - some red, some blue, brown, and all the other colors in between, alongside a sharp piece of obsidian. The only missing piece was in the hunched man's hand, turning it over and over again in his fingers, wearing the smooth piece of stone down yet further.

 

Now was a time for memories, and for now it was this man's time to remember them, for himself, not for others. None of his fellows had yet arrived, nor had any of those who he would be speaking to tonight, telling them the old stories as he had for ages before. The solitude was both a blessing and a curse...when he was with others, he often had little time for his memories, though when he was alone all his memories came to him...joyous and tragic both.

 

He turned his gaze from the sand pit to the stone he held in his hand. Carved on one side of it, many years before, was the image of a simple mask, though this simple image was a symbol for something far greater. The Matoran had never given up faith in their shield, even when that shield had seemed to fail them, and now they were bereft of it almost entirely. The elder smiled; certainly they had become self-reliant in all the time that they were left to their own devices, and it seemed that preparation had been a blessing in disguise.

 

Though he couldn't help but wish his great spirit hadn't left him. "Ah, Mata-Nui," he sighed, shaking his head. "I still don't understand how a simple mask-maker like me became so instrumental to your survival, and I doubt I ever will." He chuckled slightly. "Though I don't suppose you can hear me, can you? Nor would you explain it to me, in any case." He shook his head, setting the small stone down in the circle next to him, and waited for the others to come.

 

"Vakama," he heard, and turned; an elderly woman came and sat next to him, bringing a smile to his face. "Nokama," he replied, nodding. "I'm glad to see you." The pair exchanged pleasantries, making idle conversation as their fellow Turaga, as well as numerous Matoran, Toa, Agori, and Glatorians came to the sand pit, joining together in a large circle as they awaited the story they would hear. Once the attendees had all arrived, Vakama picked up his staff and stood, a small flame jumping from the end of his staff to call all the listeners to attention.

 

"Hello, my friends," he said, smiling warmly. "I welcome you," he opened his arms wide, bringing every being there into his embrace, "To our story circle. You have all heard many stories here, or at places like this one - even our native brothers and sisters -" he gestured to the Glatorians and Agori present, who smiled good-naturedly at him "-And today it is time for you to hear another, a history that has its end only in most recent times." Vakama's face grew serious, as he stepped back to the circle, lifting the jagged hulk of obsidian.

 

"Our story today is not of the glory of the Toa, or of the Great Spirit's generosity...today we will speak of a good man whose heart was twisted, whose good intentions were ultimately turned to evil, and who had to pay the ultimate price for his misdeeds. This is the story of Makuta, the Makuta, who very nearly vanquished Mata-Nui himself!" He punctuated that statement by slamming his staff on the ground, the bulb of it flaring up and releasing a burst of fire into the atmosphere, setting the nervous Vorox and skittish Zesk to chittering amongst themselves, then scolding him as soon as they recovered; he smiled back at their reprimands.

 

He set the piece of obsidian down carefully, back in the center of the circle, next to the stone representing Mata-Nui; the others were all a respectful distance away. "Mata-Nui and Makuta were as brothers in the thought of the Great Beings," he began, his voice acquiring again the sonorousness it had always held when he was presenting his histories. "Indeed, had it not been for their intervention, Mata-Nui might never have brought Makuta into existence. Yet he did, and while Makuta was but a mere candle in power compared to the veritable uproar of burning fire that was Mata-Nui, at first, they were brothers; each worked for the good of Matoran, and for the good of life in general, neither plotting against the other." He sighed, then took a breath before beginning again.

 

"Yet Makuta hungered for more power. Originally, he only wished for power to promote peace, and stability; as I said, his intentions were good, in the beginning. Yet as time progressed he began to desire order and control over peace and stability, felt himself more qualified for the ruling than was his elder brother. So, over time, he concocted a plan to overthrow his brother. First, he set in motion the events that would cause Mata-Nui to fall into a deep sleep, causing the cataclysm that nearly rendered our home non-functional.

 

"Soon after that he began the plans to take control of our home...first by controlling the Matoran, and later by controlling our Great-Spirit's body himself. To do that, though, he needed more items of power. So he came to my home, the land of Metru-Nui, the Great City. I was a mask-maker, crafting the masks of power that are so dearly needed by my people. He came to me in the guise of my Turaga, coming to me with greater knowledge than I had held before. He taught me and my fellows how to make many more masks than those of the Matoran, giving me the ability to create more powerful masks, for use by Turaga and Toa, and he even taught me the secrets of crafting elemental masks from Toa disks." Vakama shook his head, almost ruefully. "I remember, when I was learning my trade, we were taught against making such masks. They were considered too dangerous for our city, and for good reason; the damage one Toa can do when they wield more elements than the one they were created with is a frightening prospect to consider."

 

The elderly Turaga looked at the staff he held, and then back to some of the items he had brought with him before, among them various masks he had never finished, as well as the plans for one mask he almost wished he had never created.

 

"He commissioned me, in the guise of our beloved Dume, to create a mask more powerful than one that had ever been known in Metru-Nui. He wished for the Vahi, the Mask of Time. I was a fool, being unable to see the shadow that was towering before me, no matter how complex or believable his deceits." He turned back to the group of his listeners, smiling ruefully. "The temptation had always been there, for all of us. We all wanted to create the most powerful mask possible, though we had all agreed against it - the obvious vicious competition that would arise, and the potential for that mask's misuse, both far outweighed whatever benefit we might gain in reputation from making the mask. Yet when I thought it was Dume asking me...how could I resist?" Vakama shook his head.

 

"His lies tempted me, as they tempted many others, and I am ashamed to say that I gave in to his wishes to create for him a mask of greater power than any that had ever been needed in Metru-Nui, and that then I did not have even the slightest urge to think as to why Dume, who had as of yet never needed such a mask, would be asking me to create it. And that is what Makuta was...a liar, a temptor, a deceiver. He had great power - he was Mata-Nui's brother from the very beginning - and yet he twisted himself towards using it for evil, not for good. He had already held the capacity for violence, yet now he held a lust for cruelty, and an urge towards ultimate power over every being in his known universe." The Turaga sat down wearily, his shoulders sagging.

 

"While he might now be perished, we know that his evil lives on in our world...and in many worlds beyond, for he and his brethren had visited many places that we had never thought even existed, and he had spread his corruption even there. I simply shudder to think of what other tragedies he may have caused..." Vakama closed his eyes for just a moment, gathering his thoughts again.

 

A hammer fell, striking a piece of glowing metal and causing it to bend, to assume a new shape. Again the hammer fell, and again, shaping the metal that was the object of the strength behind it, engaged not in the act of destruction, but in the act of creation. A gold armored being was hard at work, making masks to give to those he lived with on his island home. He was working alone, his brother not present in the workshop as he toiled.

 

Ultimate power could be yours, he thought he heard, as he continued his work; he shook his head, trying to ignore the voice. His hammer fell again and again upon the metal. You need only to claim it. Unbidden, memories of a dark presence came back to him, one that had come to him long before and left the seeds of this idea in his mind.

 

He turned to look at his brother's workspace, to see the various mask blanks that were lying around it. All perfect in form, and almost glowing with the power they hold. This mask-maker could tell that his were inferior via a simple glance, as could the inhabitants of the island. They all wished for his brother's wares, not his; he might well have not even existed.

 

He grunted, turning to return to his work, but stopped. Again he turned to view his brother's wares, the jealousy he had felt ever since meeting with that dark presence roaring up again, trying to drive him towards making the one thing he had promised never to create. He turned, and thought he detected a sense of satisfaction as he pieced his thoughts together. Slowly, with the same voice he had heard earlier, he breathed "It was always so tempting..."

 

"Talking to yourself, Makuta?" his brother asked, walking in behind him. The gold-armoured being turned around to meet his brother, extending a hand to him in greeting. As he did so, he couldn't help but notice the mask his brother wore; it was attractive, and it contained a great power itself.

 

Soon you will be greater.

 

"Just thinking out loud, Ekimu," Makuta said, before turning back to his small workbench. He grabbed the unfinished mask and set it to the side, unfurling some paper so that he could plan a design for his newest mask. As he did so, another being in another place opened his eyes, sadness dimming them.

 

Vakama sighed again, turning away from the sand pit, the eyes of all of his listeners following him closely.

 

"Makuta's evil still lives," he repeated, his voice now bitter. "His temptation still runs rampant throughout all life. His lies were always well masked in beauty, appearing as gifts, yet his gifts were always ruinous." The elderly Turaga stood and walked away, the blows of a singular hammer upon metal ringing in his ears, as he felt that another being was lost to the Master of Shadow's lies.

 

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Well, there, I've done my writing exercise for today, and I hope y'all like it. Comments and criticisms and such are all welcome, especially considering this is a rough draft - albeit one that took me more than an hour to write (this ain't no 15-minute flash fiction) - and as such could certainly use some extra polishing just to make it look nicer. That, and I don't want to bother all of my friends by making them critique it for me and play editor.

 

I have no qualms about subjection the larger group to that treatment, however.

 

P.S. - GSR told me to write this so blame him if it's bad not me

 

P.P.S. - yay bad titles

Edited October 18, 2014 by The Otter

[Toa Smoke Monster]

This is a really good story! I wouldn't have even guessed that it was a rough draft if you hadn't said it in your post. 

 

I liked how you characterized Makuta here. Its kind of sad seeing that he did originally want to rule for the peace and safety of the MU residents, but power corrupted him into the monster that he eventually became. I also like that you have Vakama admit that he gave in the temptation of creating the Vahi, even though he knew Metru-Nui didn't need such a mask. It shows that he, along with others, could be tempted to do questionable acts and fall into doing them.

 

I really like the ending the best. It was great having the sneak peek at Makuta and Ekimu making masks in the new story, and having Vakama get a glimpse at it, as if he were having a vision to see into another dimention. It makes that ending sence tied up the story very well.

 

Overall, I really enjoyed this story a lot and I thought it made a great connection between the old and new stories. 

[otter]

Well thank you. =D

 

Also yeah, I based the thing of Makuta off the fact that originally he was made as a good guy, both intended to be so by the Great Beings and created as such by Mata-Nui. It was just later on that he went wrong (thanks Pridak and others) and started going mad. And the part about Vakama was my own creation, but hey. It's better than just "silly little matoran does what little turaga says."

 

Also, thank you about the ending. I thought at first that it seemed a little rushed and awkward (still does, kinda), but hey, if it went over relatively well it went over relatively well. xP

[GSR]

P.S. - GSR told me to write this so blame him if it's bad not me

oh so it's like that huh

 

TSM actually hit several good points in his review, but I'll try and add a few more: I like the overall framing device of the story; you set the scene for Vakama telling this particular tale fairly well, I think.  Said tale itself works fairly well - one thing that might have been nice was a slight bit more depth or specificity  into why 2001-Makuta fell into darkness, particularly given the other two 'tales' that follow (Vakama's creation of the Vahi, and 2015-Makuta's own corruption) focus on particular events to tie back into why the Makuta was so dangerous. 

 

The ending is maybe a little abrupt, though that might be Vakama's actions more than anything else - the image of him just straight-up turning and walking away is a bit unintentionally humorous, I think.

 

There were also some prose bits that felt a bit bumpy ("the sonorousness", "that nearly rendered our home non-functional", etc.) but this was written in an hour, so I think that can be forgiven. It's not terribly distracting anyway.

 

Overall, though? I liked it.  It's a fun way to bridge old canon and new canon by focusing on the more mythological/archetypical veins of thought that were present in the line's early years.  A traditional morality tale, but that's not a bad thing.

[Wazdakka]

Are you saying that Makuta travelled to the Nuvaverse to convince Okoto's Makuta to forge the Mask of Ultimate Power?

My only qualm was that you kept writing, "man" and "woman" in place of ... "being" or "Turaga" - it just seemed a little out of place with the norms of Bionicle. 

 

Regardless, cool ideas and nice short, little story. 

[otter]

Genders do exist within the Bionicle world, so it makes sense that somebody might be a "man" or a "woman" rather than just this or that Matoran/Toa/Turaga.

 

Also, yes, I am implying just that. After all, we already have lots of parallel universes in our older Bionicle canon. Why not just go with a theory that's been mentioned maybe once or twice and use it for a story, eh? Besides, you never know. It is possible Makuta could've used the robot to transport himself out of this reality, make everybody think he's dead, maybe try to gain "ultimate power" somewhere else, come back, cause problems, yadda yadda, bada bing bada boom.