All Our Sins Remembered

[Grantaire]

Evening falls on every life, and Dark follows. Light seems unlikely, and indeed, hope for it drains all too quickly. Darkness is not only the absence of light: it is the absence of goodness. The soul writhes in torment, blackened and burnt by what it has done.The pain of a dead soul is second to none.Blood was everywhere. It was on his blade, upon the bodies of the dead, upon his hands, and upon his soul. Filthy, evil, terrible. His face contorted, twisted with hate, twisted by horror, twisted by the thought of what he had done.His sins burned like fire, fire that did not cleanse. It was more aliken to the fire that consumed a log, turning it into a burned out charcoal slab.Even after the darkness comes, there are times in the night when a false dawn is upon the world. But can dawn ever show its face?The mud of the swamp was filthy, oozing and bubbling. It seemed to have a life of its own, a sticky, foul smelling and sickening life; as sickening as the black heart of a makuta.The skeletal figure that floated through the mud smiled sardonically at that thought.“We Makuta have a belief among us; after our deaths, every thing we have inflicted upon others comes back upon ourselves. For thousands of years I have inflicted pain, torment, hatred, despair, terror, and slavery upon others. Perhaps this time I wish to add a drop of mercy into the mix?”He could hear his voice; bitter and mocking, although remorseful. Mostly mocking though: the voice of a god trying to pretend to be a mortal. Had he fooled himself into believing that a drop of mercy could possibly make up for every evil he had committed? It was madness.But weren’t Makuta by their nature mad?He had fooled himself into thinking that as well. They were not intrinsically mad. They had made themselves mad; they had shaped themselves into monsters.And what rest after death could be granted to a monster? A drop of mercy was not enough to rest upon. It would dissipate, he knew it would. And when there was nothing to rest upon, Absence would drag him away.Absence. He was full of it. Evil, Nothing, it was all the same. It was Nothing on its own, it just sapped off what was.A drop of mercy: foolishness, stupidity, almost like thinking that one Kraata could make a working Rahkshi.Mercy was weak alone, and even weaker when paired with the smallness of the mercy, and a spurned mercy at that.His body ached; every bone in it felt like a giant had sat on it for a day. Could pain be enough? The figure decided it was not. He had slain far more, inflicted far more. The agony inflicted on one single victim outstepped this.He floated on, his eyes fixed on the circular, metallic shape in front of him. It was what mattered. Not him, not his fate after death.He could hear the groaning of metal, and winced.I just condemned another six to death, and I still expect mercy? He asked himself bitterly, mentally laughing a second later: It was better that six die, than the entire universe.A Shadow matoran flew by a little off to the side, and Krika winced again. But even as he did, a smile fought its way to his face. He had made these. These emotions clashed within, causing him to smile bitterly. It was a reflection of what he had been thinking; repentant he might be, but he still reveled in the pain he inflicted.Even as I wish for mercy, I rejoice over even more distortions…The groaning of metal suddenly ceased, and he looked up towards the sky. The red and black figure of Icarax was no longer alone. Two figures were homing in on him, one blue, with a Matoran on his back, the other four armed and a sickly green.It seemed like so little. A few flying creatures advancing on a third; it was almost like a few birds fighting. But underneath.. Underneath, it spelled everything. It spelled whether or not the world would live in the grip of evil, or remain asleep.It meant everything.Weariness vanished as a rush of energy flowed through him; the energy of one who knows that he must only complete one last task before he is free to rest.He closed in, even as Gorast attacked, blasting chainlighting like a swarm of vile bees, bees that were funneled into the palm of Icarax, and sent back, doubled in strength. It knocked back Gorast, and Vamprah advanced, sending a laser bolt at Icarax, who dodged it easily, responding with a blast of lightning that sent Gavla off of Vamprah’s back, and down, her wings fluttering frantically to stop her fall.Krika didn’t bother to see the outcome of that, instead he continued to float, close and close, all the time wishing he could fly. It didn’t matter what happened to a matoran, all that mattered was that these Makuta were slain, and quickly.He prepared an attack, waiting. His mind coldly calculated the distance, seeming to move impossibly slow.Could this redeem me?He threw his hand forwards, and chain lightning flashed forwards, striking Gorst in the back. Struck twice by the same attack, Gorast was in no mood to remain calm. She flew over towards Krika at a blinding speed, smiling; she knew Krika, and she knew that he was hardly a match. She attacked in a very simple way: Krika, although intangible, was still metal, and magnetism could effect him. The aforementioned power flowed out, dragging Krika towards her.Krika tensed up, waiting for the inevitable. As a scientist, he was second only to Mutran, as a warrior, he was last next to him. He fired a few bolts of lightning, which Gorast caught easily, contemptuously.Gorast flew in, and Krika found himself being dragged towards her even faster. In seconds he was next to her, and her claw whisked through him, and he looked calmly at her, waiting for what he knew would happen.Agony wrenched him as he felt his body spreading outwards.Watching his death out of his own eyes, Krika took one last look at the world around him before blackness closed in. He saw Icarax frying Vamprah's energy with a well blaced blast of heat vision, and turning his attention on the battered Gorast, and he knew his death was not in vain.If mercy is not enough, then my life is worth the price.---It's official, I hate the new forums. They're good, but there is one thing that they are absolutely horrible at: They're not good at being run by old computers. It took me fifteen minutes to load the 'Posting New Topic'I now both miss the old forums and have a passionate hatred of this ancient computer I'm using.

Edited January 15, 2012 by The Quiet Light

[The G-Man]

This is one of the best short stories I've read here in a while. I love how it starts out like a dream for Krika, then turns to harsh reality, all the while being as much of a philosophical question as a story. Krika is by far my favorite Makuta, and you captured him perfectly here. I'm definitely voting for you in the new SS contest......unless I vote for myself. Do I deserve redemption for this?

Edited December 3, 2011 by The G-Man

[Grantaire]

Thanks! When I first wrote this, It looked, in my eyes, to be a piece of junk. Evidently it's not, although the revisions I made to it might have helped. No... Selfishness is the opposite of humility, and thus is the path away from redemption...XD

[Aderia]

Sorry Zar, but I have to ask. For such a short, sweet story, how can you have so many typos?

His sins burned like fire, fare that did not cleanse.

His sins burned like fire, fire that did not cleanse.

They had made themselves mad, they had shaped themselves into monsters.

They had made themselves mad. They had shaped themselves into monsters.I personally think it would read better as two seperate sentences, but that's just me.

A drop of mercy: foolishness, stupidity, almost like thinking that one Kraata could make a working Rahkshi.

There's nothing wrong with this, but I just don't get it.

Krika didn’t bother to see the outcome of that, instead he continued to float, close and close, all the time wishing he could fly.

Krika didn’t bother to see the outcome of that, instead he continued to float, closer and closer, all the time wishing he could fly.

As a scientist, he was second only to Mutran, as a warrior, he was last next to him.

I'm confused as to whom you're referenceing.

He fired a few bolts of lightning, which Gorast’s caught easily.

He fired a few bolts of lightning, which Gorast caught easily.

He saw Icaraxfrying Vamprah's enery with a well blaced blast of heat vision, and turning his attention on the battered Gorast, and he knew his death was not in vain.

He saw Icarax frying Vamprah's enegry with a well placed blast of heat vision, and turning his attention on the battered Gorast, and he knew his death was not in vain. I think you broke the record for most errors in one sentence with that last one XP.Also, I spotted two "Filthy"s within three sentences, and three "Bitter"s throughout the story, I don't think it would hurt to change some of those.Anyways, the actual story, I liked. The whole concept and internal conflict was enticing. Best of luck in the contest!

[Grantaire]

Sorry Zar, but I have to ask. For such a short, sweet story, how can you have so many typos?

Try writing on a slow computer that freezes up roughly once every minute, in a hurry, and not proofread.

His sins burned like fire, fire that did not cleanse.

I swear I thought I had corrected that one.

They had made themselves mad. They had shaped themselves into monsters.

I liked my way better.

There's nothing wrong with this, but I just don't get it.

Erm, it takes one Kraata to make the suite, and another to power it.

m confused as to whom you're referenceing.

Mutran.Thanks for the review though....Oh dangit, now I owe you a review.

[Aderia]

XD I was kidding, you really don't have to, Zar.

[Freezer Burn]

Let me start off by saying that you have chosen to write from the perspective of one of my favorite characters. Krika was always interesting to me, with all of his emotional turmoil. In this narrative, you really encapsulated everything about his character. I love the part where he sees a shadow matoran. The conflict you made in every paragraph is just awesome to read, along with the language you used to describe the fighting. As people have pointed out, there are many typos, but the brilliance of what you are writing more than makes up for it. Truly fantastic job!

[Grantaire]

Oops, looks like I missed a reply.First, thanks.Second, I'm glad we both have the same guy among our favorites. I originally planned to write this on Nidhiki, but got fed up halfway through, and rewrote it. Krika, IMO, never gets a lot of coverage in fanfics, which is sad considering his awesomeness.Now that the contest is done, i can finally edit the entry! whoo! good to see these idiotic spelling errors die.

[Freezer Burn]

I'm glad you did! But yeah spelling isn't fun. Good luck in the contest Btw!

[Voltex]

As promised, here is a review.

I just condemned another six to death, and I still expect mercy?

This felt a little awkward to me, as well as the flip from it being more about Krika's emotions to being about Krika's actions in the latter half. It looks like all the other errors were corrected, so I don't really have any complaints outside of that; it was an interesting read, and it was nice to see Krika get the spotlight for once.-ibrow

[Velox]

Official SSCC ReviewI must say, I really enjoyed this. It was a very interesting and gripping story about -- as you and others have mentioned -- a character that is hardly ever in the spotlight. The title fits perfectly, too. I'm always a huge fan of characterization, and you did an excellent job here. I love how much you focused on the thoughts of Krika, his sins, et cetera. And just the direction you took with his thoughts as a whole gave a some-what "new look" into the heart of a Makuta. I especially liked how you had him both love and hate what he did; it's very probably that a being like a Makuta would, if he ever sought redemption, would still love inflicting pain, as they are beings of evil. You also used very good imagery in this story; you gave a lot of good descriptions while not going overboard and slowing the pace of the story. I don't have many criticisms for the story itself -- good writing, interesting plot, good characterization. One thing that could have been expanded on would be why the other Makuta are attacking Krika. And also the relationship between Krika and the other Makuta (especially Icarax) could have been expanded upon. And just a couple nitpicks:

It knocked back Gorast, and Vamprah advanced, sending a laser bolt at Icarax, who dodged it easily, responding with a blast of lightning that sent Gavla off of Vamprah’s back, and down, her wings fluttering frantically to stop her fall.

This sentence is a little awkward. Most likely because you're trying to fit a lot of things into one sentence. I'd try expanding it slightly (just be careful; expanding things too much during a fight slows down the pace of the story) -- the wording is just awkward how it is.

He saw Icarax frying Vamprah's energy with a well blaced blast of heat vision, and turning his attention on the battered Gorast, and he knew his death was not in vain.

"blaced" should be "placed" and you use "and" too much -- "and turning....and he knew". Just take out the second "and" so it becomes "...Gorast, he knew..."Anyway, don't really have anything else to say. Good job again; keep writing! I look forward to reading more by you.