The Beginning

[jimmybob83]

This is something I've been casually working on for some years now. By "working on," I mean that every few months, I'll get in a crazy mood for a couple of days and do some writing. And by "writing," I mean I'll reread a few pages, say to myself "what was I thinking?!" and furiously re-edit it for a while.As I'm sure you all know, for the first few years of Bionicle, the story was not told in the form of a nice, traditional narrative. For the first season, all we really had were three medium-length comic books, an ill-fated trading card game, the MNOLG, and eventually a single, short, young-reader book by C. A. Hapka. So I decided to try and piece together all of these various official sources in the form of a narrative, and fill in the many gaps with my own ideas. As such, many of the scenes and plot points are not my own, but rather are taken from the sources listed above.Anyway, I'm in one of my writing moods and I decided to do some posting. I fully acknowledge that I am NOT an experienced author in any way, shape, or form, and I only have a few chapters that I'm mostly-happy with. All comments welcome. Review topic: http://www.bzpower.com/board/index.php?showtopic=3312 Without further adieu:

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Prologue

“When does being a hero start to be glamorous?” This particular thought kept creeping its way to the front of Takua's mind as he labored through the dense jungle underbrush, taking care to avoid the many thorn vines that promised a harsh bite if he became too careless in his hike. He had been trekking through the thick and wild terrain since the first light of dawn, just as he had done the previous day. And the day before that… and the day before that. This latest in a long series of difficult journeys was actually one of Takua's shorter expeditions, but the tremendous sense of importance he carried with him on this particular trip had eaten away at his normal state of perseverance, leaving only a bitter sense of impatience at his meager rate of progress. As he stumbled over a rotting tree branch, Takua believed he might be on the verge of understanding why his fellow Ta-Matoran rarely cared to leave their rocky home of Ta-Koro. Yet before the thought could begin to take root, he caught a glimpse of something ahead, beyond the trees. Energized by the sight, Takua quickly forgot the weariness in his muscles and servos as he crossed the last few steps of jungle, emerging from the shadowed, leafy canopy and stepping into the grand clearing that surrounded the enormous shrine of Kini-Nui. Shrugging his pack half off his shoulder in anticipation, he hurried across the expanse of grass that separated him from the majestic yet simple temple. The most revered location in the entire land, Kini-Nui was a place where villagers of every tribe felt at home. Nestled in a valley where the lush jungles of Le-Wahi met the looming peaks of Ko-Wahi, the great round structure stood in dedication to the Great Spirit and his virtues. Takua trotted past the expansive pool of sand, where the leaders of the island would gather to share the stories and legends of their people, every step causing the great stone face carved in the distant mountainside to grow larger in his view. When Takua finally reached the sloping base of Kini-Nui itself, he bounded up the nearest set of steps until he reached the structure's flat peak. In the center of the plateau, surrounded by four towering spires, sat the Suva. The simple looking hemisphere of a shrine was not a new sight to Takua, since every village on the island was home to one much like it, but the one atop the Kini-Nui had always felt different to Takua… and today he was going to make use of it to attempt something very different indeed. He knelt, panting, beside the Suva, and let his trusty plant-fiber satchel and its precious contents slide to the ground. He starred at the Suva, itching to begin the task that had brought him to Kini-Nui in the first place, but something else required his attention first. Settling himself against one of the grand spires of the temple, he pulled a thin sheet and a pick from his bag, and began a quick carving: It looks as if my latest quest is nearly over. Only my duty as Chronicler has made me stop to record the recent events that, until now, I have been too busy to properly document. After my latest blunder in Ta-Koro, it seemed that leaving for a while was the best choice for everyone. I went to Onu-Koro, which is where I first heard the shocking news. Apparently, the Makuta had sent his Rahi to capture Turaga Whenua himself. The entire village was too stunned to respond, both because of this unprecedented level of wickedness and the lack of Whenua’s leadership. I took it upon myself to find and rescue the Turaga, who’s always been kind to me. During my time searching in the caverns I found an oddly carved stone, and I kept it with me until I was finally able to bring Whenua back to Onu-Koro. As he examined the stone for me, he got the same twinkle in his eye that I see sometimes in Turaga Vakama. He told me that it was a Toa Stone. Imagine, Toa! After all these long years of waiting, to say that I was excited to hold in my hands a relic of the Toa would be an understatement. But if he knew anything else about the purpose of the stone, he wouldn’t tell me. Instead, he confided in me his suspicion that the other Turaga had been captured just as he had. He encouraged me to give them the same help I'd given him. Many days later, I had helped rescue the other Turaga and gathered the five other Toa Stones along the way. Even Turaga Nuju seemed impressed. I can’t explain why I found them all so close together, or why nobody else has stumbled across them in all these centuries. But Vakama told me to bring them here, to the Kini-Nui, so that’s what I’ve done. Now we’ll see what happens. I will record more details and place a proper entry on the Wall of History when I return to Ta-Koro.Takua sat his tablet on the ground and turned his gaze back to the Suva. His heart began to beat faster. For so long, every village on the island had been waiting for the Toa to come and drive away the evil that pervaded the land. And right next to him sat a bag holding six Toa Stones…He could wait no longer. He took a deep breath, picked up the sack and approached the Suva. Tentatively, he reached into the bag and drew out a blue stone carved into the stylized likeness of what he guessed was a Toa. He paced around the Suva, examining the various grooves and slots for some indication of where this particular stone belonged. He found none, and finally decided to simply set it down in the slot closest to him.When the stone touched the shrine, a jolt of energy leapt up Takua’s arm. He jumped back, startled by the sensation of the discharge on his servos, but when he saw the faint glow around the Toa Stone his excitement came rushing back to him tenfold.He ran around the Suva, his blue mask mirroring the broad grin suddenly spreading across his face. One after another he fitted the Toa Stones into the shrine, each one adding to the crackling energy and the radiant glow. Finally, he placed the sixth and final stone on the Suva, and took a step back.For a moment, nothing happened. Then the ground began to shake.Violently.Takua had no time to react as a huge column of energy shot skyward, taking him along with it, higher, and higher…

* * * * *

It was another sunny morning on the island of Mata Nui. Shining rays of light glimmered down through the sparse canopy, illuminating the humble orange figure that leisurely ambled along the dirt path. The forest he strode through was quiet; one might even call it peaceful. Peaceful – except for the fact that the trees were nothing more than blackened husks, and that very few living things chose to call this place “home.”Vakama sighed. “This is not the best of times,” he thought wearily, stepping out onto the empty beach and leaving the old battleground that was the Charred Jungle behind him. Even the sunlight that fell on his face, warm and soothing as it should have been, was only a mockery, simply a taunting reminder of the shadows that permeated the land.A short distance ahead lay that which Vakama sought. Beached on the shore and half buried in the sand was a large foreign object unlike anything Vakama had seen in ages. Gentle waves lapped against its smooth, stone-like surface. Its design was elegant and simple, although he suspected that in reality, the object was anything but.Turaga Vakama craned his neck, unhunching his shoulders as he ambled toward it. The large canister was twice as tall as he, and double that in length. It was cylindrical, and hollow, with one end open. The interior was devoid of substance, except for a small puddle of seawater that had splashed its way in. What appeared to be the lid of the great cylinder lay several bio away, as if it had been hurled by a great force. Black scorch-marks dotted its perimeter.After a long moment of thought, he pried his eyes away from the empty container and scanned the nearby area. Most everything seemed normal; Taku birds preened their mechanical wings as they floated on the surface of the vast sea; tiny Ussal crabs scuttled along the foamy shoreline. Nothing but the canister itself gave any clue that things on the island once naively called “paradise” were about to drastically change.Nothing, that is, except for a set of large footprints in the sand that began near the pod and lead directly into the shadows of the Charred Jungle. Whatever had been sealed in the capsule had gone in that direction, and Vakama fervently hoped that it had been what he was expecting.Hefting his firestaff – his badge of office, and impromptu walking stick – he began his return to the mass of burned Madu trees. From the corner of his eye, he saw a small shadow at the base of a stump detach itself and slither quickly into the forest. Centuries of experience told Vakama that he had not just spotted some harmless Rahi, but one of Makuta’s most vile spies.An instinctive ember of hatred flared deep within him at the thought of the evil and cowardly overlord that had plagued the island since times untold.To his slight surprise, the angry ember cooled rather quickly on this day. “Yes,” he thought, looking back to the mysterious canister. “Let him see this sight.”Vakama had been the Turaga of the village of Ta-Koro for a very long time indeed, but compared to recent events, he could not recall once in all of his years on the island Mata Nui when Makuta had taken such direct and offensive action against the peaceful inhabitants. The Master of Darkness had always kept them living in a state of constant fear with attacks from his Rahi beasts, but serious injury or catastrophic damage was considered a rare occurrence. After all, the Makuta did not wish the destruction of the Matoran people, but rather something far more insidious; their complete loyalty and devotion.This lack of permanent consequence had lulled the villagers into something of a false sense of security, and as such, they were completely unprepared when their six leaders had vanished, spirited away during the night. Despite their considerable intelligence and resourcefulness, the Matoran were at a loss at how to rescue their Turaga until one brave Matoran, named Takua, took action into his own hands.Takua was very different than the rest of the Matoran. Although he was a Ta-Matoran by heart, he chose to wander from village to village, having no true home on Mata Nui. This behavior was very strange by Matoran standards, and others often kept their distance from him. Villagers were supposed to stay at home and do their work; that is the way things had always been, farther back than most could imagine. But Takua wandered far from the molten lava pits of Ta-Koro. He had been nearly everywhere, from the caverns of Onu-Wahi in the south, to beautiful Lake Naho in the north. He even abandoned the traditional red, black and yellow masks the rest of the Ta-Matoran wore, and sported a very out-of-place blue Kanohi. Few understood Takua very well because of his differences, but Vakama had always shown him kindness, knowing that one day he would have a special destiny, and indeed he had. He had found the Toa Stones, after all, and Vakama was sure that this occurrence was what had lead to the sight he had just seen.When Vakama finally reached the ruined jungle and peered into the depths of the ebon husks, he saw broken twigs and rustled dirt. A fresh pathway had been trampled.Vakama sighed, this time with a hint of relief. Surely, it had to be them. At long last, they were here. He hoped with all of his heart that they would truly be the heroes that they were meant to be.The Toa had arrived.

Edited February 9, 2012 by jimmybob83

[jimmybob83]

Chapter 1 The stranger walked cautiously through the shadowy remains of the dead forest. He moved with the utmost confidence and precision, careful not to make a sound. He felt no fear; that emotion was nearly foreign to him. Even so, he had no desire to unnecessarily reveal his presence to whatever might be lurking in the shadows.The figure was tall – practically a giant by the standards of this island’s inhabitants. On his back was slung a great long sword in the shape of an elegant flame. It was bright red in color, just as he and his armor were, and he felt certain that it would be able to handle any problem he might come across. On his face he wore a red mask, with a tall mouth, sweeping forehead, and three slits cut into each cheek. It reflected the expression of his face, now stoic, and revealed his eyes, blazing with hidden power.He was not sure of the mask’s purpose. All he knew was that when he had first assembled himself on the beach, he had felt weak before he had placed it on his face; terribly weak. He had no desire to experience that feeling again.There was no breeze within the dead columns. The silence and stillness alone might have made a lesser being’s skin crawl. The scenery did not bring any cheer either. Blackened, gnarled trees and stumps dotted the landscape as far as the eye could see, their bleakness somehow absorbing the faint rays of sunlight. As far as he could tell, there was no living plant life at all in the forest, aside from a few scraggly shrubs.Yet despite the palpable eerieness he felt in this place, it felt almost like home. Wherever this place was. Why could he not remember?The question stopped him in his tracks. It echoed again and again through his mind. Where was his memory? Who was he, where was he, what was he? He could remember nothing but fragments of dreams. Dark dreams. Dreams, it seemed, he had dreamt for an eternity, floating in the sea...Searing anger quickly engulfed his warrior's calm. The questions raging in his skull taunted him, his lack of knowledge making him feel almost... vulnerable. What was wrong with him? Why was he here? Why had he been floating in the sea for what felt like eons? He shook his head vigorously and grimaced, trying and failing again and again to recall anything about himself or his purpose. Try as he might, his head remained as empty and desolate as his surroundings.Soon he could stand it no more. Forgoing stealth, he screamed, “Why – can’t – I – REMEMBER?!”His bellow echoed through the shadows. With anger quickly dominating him, he drew is sword and lashed out at the nearest brittle tree. It felt good. When it had fallen, he turned to another blackened trunk, shouting as he charged.Suddenly, there was a tremendous flash from his sword. He stepped back, startled, dropping the white-hot blade. The enormous old tree that had been his target was gone... now nothing more than a smoldering lump of crispy ash on the ground.The crimson warrior stood transfixed and bewildered by the sight before him. As his mind slowly pieced together what had just transpired, he turned to gape at the weapon laying on the brittle soil. For a brief moment, it felt almost alien. What had just happened?As he stood there thinking, his brief flash of fear quickly faded. Why should he be afraid of a mere object? Tahu feared nothing.He blinked. Tahu? What was that? A word… a name? He turned it over in his mind. Yes… Yes, that was it. His name was Tahu.A devilish grin spread across his face. At last, he was remembering, And that power... His power...He closed his eyes and envisioned the ruined tree that had stood before him just moments ago. He recalled the sensation that had flooded through him as the tree was consumed by heat... He followed the memory of that sensation deep within himself until he again felt connected to that power.After carefully kneeling to retrieve his blade, Tahu aimed the weapon at the nearest arboreal carcass. He concentrated on this newfound ability he felt inside, reaching into the core of his being…Suddenly, pure fire leapt from the flame-shaped sword to engulf the black trunk. It crackled and splintered, the raging blaze spreading to consume the entire surface.His mouth fell open slightly. Awed, he lowered the blade and stared at the burning wood. The flame had indeed come from within him – not from the sword. The sword was merely the focus of the energy. He had such power… But how? And why? More questions, but their answers still eluded him.Eager to find his answers, Tahu continued onward, but paused as he passed the fire he had created. Slowly he raised his arm, and cautiously, he placed his hand upon the glowing husk. He felt nothing. He was one with the heat, with the flame. The inferno was his.YES.

* * * * *

Jala’s legs ached. He and his team had been in the same spot for hours, crouching behind a log, waiting for one of those infernal beasts to wander by. Specifically, kofo-jaga. Blasted creatures; nasty, huge scorpions the size of Matoran. Normally they did not wander too close to his village, Ta-Koro, but this particular group had set up a nest a little too close to home for comfort. They did not have any chance of breaching Ta-Koro's defenses on their own, of course, but there was nothing to prevent them from taking up residence on the other side of those defenses and setting upon any Matoran who left the village.Nothing, that is, except for the Guard. Jala was captain of the Guard, the defense force of Ta-Koro. It was his duty to roam out here in the wilderness, protecting his people and his village, so he accepted his present discomfort in stride – he just wished the ###### danger would hurry and get here already. It simply would not be acceptable for he and his team to return to the village due to exhaustion and hunger while his people's safety was still in question.“Oh well,” thought Jala. "At least I'm not alone in my misery." He had brought along Keahi, Nuri, and Kapura. Keahi did not appear uncomfortable at all; he was used to standing in one spot all day, since he was usually the honor guard of the village’s Suva shrine. Nuri was his unemotional self, so Jala did not even attempt to interpret his stance. And Kapura… Well, as always, the best word to describe the brave fellow was “slow.”The crimson guardsmen were each armed with a dual-pronged staff, perfect for catching the whipping tail of a kofo-jaga. In the small clearing opposite their cover lay a concealed trap, ready to spring out of the ground at a moment's notice and engulf any creature that wandered within its grasp.The sound of a cracking branch in the distance flushed the weariness from their pistons and brought the four Matoran to crisp attention. Jala raised his hand for silence as he turned around, slowly raising his head to see above the fallen tree – and stopped short.The being tromping through the black forest was no kofo-jaga. It was not even a Rahi, at least none that Jala had ever seen or heard of. It was a huge, towering figure, nearly three times his size, with long arms and a broad chest. It wore gleaming red and orange armor plating over its large muscles, and menacing scarlet eyes glowed from behind a mask nearly identical to Jala's own. Clasped in the being's hand was an elegant and deadly long sword.“Mata Nui!” Keahi breathed in Jala's ear, “What is that? A new beast of the Makuta?”Jala shook his head. “I, I don’t know,” he replied, still examining this new arrival. “But whatever it is, it’s armed and heading toward the village! You know your duty, Guardsmen! Charge!” He gripped his staff and vaulted over the log, sprinting straight towards the creature. Keahi and Nuri swiftly leapt after their Captain, but Kapura stood his ground. He waited for the new arrival to step into their waiting trap… then swiftly pulled the rope at his feet. Their elegant kofo-jaga trap sprung, and thick thorny branches leapt out of the ground, encasing the strange figure in a cage of barbs and branches.Their quarry halted in mid-stride. It did not panic or whirl around; it did not even move. It simply stood, with its sword held steadily before it.Jala and the others reached the cage, holding their forked staffs protectively in front of them. At this close distance, Jala realized that the being they had trapped was not so very different from him, really. Its mask really was remarkably similar to his, and –His thoughts were cut short when their query calmly raised its arm over its head – flaming sword in hand – and sliced through the thorns and branches of their barrier as if it were constructed of mere twigs.Jala spared a moment to observe the reaction of his entourage. Keahi and Nuri looked terrified, but they held their ground, as did Jala. They all stared, spears still firmly aimed at the enemy. Why wasn’t it attacking? It seemed to be… studying them. Jala raised his weapon in warning –“Halt!”Jala heard the strong voice to his left. He recognized it instantly – it was Turaga Vakama. In the silence of the standoff he could clearly be heard approaching through the brush.“Turaga!” shouted Jala. "Be careful! We don’t know—”“Lower your weapons, Guard,” Vakama said gently. Jala turned, seeing the old Turaga slowly approach. His eyes were locked on the face of the new arrival. “Everything is fine.”“B-but, Turaga!” called Keahi. “What--”“The legends have come to pass, Guardsmen,” Vakama told the group. Jala noticed an odd quality to the Turaga's voice. Was it... reverence? “Our saviors are here at last. My children... you are in the presence of the Toa of Fire.”The captain of the Guard felt his jaw drop, and witnessed similar expressions appear on the faces of his companions.“Yes…” the Toa said. He closed his eyes for a moment, apparently lost in thought. “Toa… I remember that now…" His eyes flashed open. "I am a Toa. I am Toa Tahu.”“Welcome, Toa Tahu, to the island of Mata Nui.” Vakama knelt, bowing so deeply that his head nearly touched the ground.As he rose, Jala could contain himself no longer. He raised his pronged staff. “The Toa have come! All hail the Toa!” The others cheered and took up the chant, raising their staffs in the air. Tahu was so surprised that he didn’t know how to react, but before he could respond to the Matoran, Vakama waved them to silence.“Go now, Jala,” he said. “Inform the village of our visitor. Spread the word.”Vakama smiled as the Guard bowed to Tahu and ran off towards Ta-Koro, slow Kapura trying to keep up.Tahu looked down at Vakama. “Why are they so excited to see me?” he asked.Vakama chuckled. “You had best get used to the attention, Toa Tahu.” He started to walk after the hurrying Guardsmen. “The Matoran have been waiting for you and your companions for ages.”Tahu shook his head, his fiery temper threatening to rise again. “What companions? I’ve been alone since I awoke in pieces on the beach! Who am I -- who are we, really, and why have you been waiting for us for so long?”Vakama stopped walking and glanced over his shoulder. “Important questions, Toa Tahu. Questions that you shall have answered very soon. Come now,” he waved his hand. “Let us walk to your new home.”