Hachaian Winds Options

[Makuta Master]

Who knows which way the Hachaian Winds blow?
Hachaia…A place of untold beauty and civilization. However, Hachaia holds a deep secret, and now a great evil hunts it. In a land where peace and tranquility has lasted for ages, what could possibly disrupt it?

Chapter 1: Message on the Wind

The Hachaian Plain was a vast, barren land speckled with trees and outdated buildings. And it remained the home of the last ancient monument of the ancient people of the land, a massive temple of stone.
The Plain could easily become a place where even the mightiest could be brought to their knees by an inhospitable wind.
Tahkii, one of the Hachaian people, traipsed across the hills to his class. He, as well as his classmates, was sent to training to become temple researchers. They were to receive the Kanohi Rau, a Noble Mask, to translate the ancient writings.
Their place of training? An old stone temple from a time before the kingdom of Hachaia. Tahkii and his people possessed a great interest in the past, and the few chosen to learn the ancient writings were privileged enough to enter the sacred landmark.

Finally Tahkii caught sight of the temple. He smiled to himself. Every time he saw it he did the same. It was a beautiful thing, he knew, made out of a love for life and the people. He snapped out of his daze, still smiling, and lifted his foot to walk the rest of the way.
Suddenly a harsh wind swept up beneath him, catching his books and knocking him over.
A voice screamed on the wind, a sinister and screechy voice: “WE LIVE!!” Tahkii looked around helplessly. Dark clouds rushed over him in the normally beautiful blue sky. Lighting and rain danced across the heavens in anger, and Tahkii felt it.
Something didn’t feel right. Something wasn’t normal. Tahkii, alone and afraid, called out; the roar of the wind silenced his yells. “THE SOUTH IS RISING! The Darkness comes!”

Tahkii scrambled to his feet and ran, as he never had before, never looking back until he reached the temple. The large oak doors swung open as he slammed into them. The torches, normally burning bright, appeared an unnatural dull blue.
An insidious voice reverberated through the hall of the temple.
“Welcome, Tahkii of Hachaia, we have been awaiting you.” A pair of deep red eyes blinked open in the shadows. “We already…took care…of your little friends. You are the only one who still has the potential to know what these walls say. You see, Tahkii, what we never realized was that we need you to translate these walls. You will cooperate, or we will destroy you.”

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This post has been edited by Makuta Master: Apr 22 2005, 10:55 AM

[Makuta Master]

Chapter 2: Awakening

Napata awoke in a snap. He felt as though he had been sleeping for ages. His eyes soon adjusted to the light, which was very bright. He sat up slowly, taking in his surroundings.
This was not his home.
This was not anyplace he had ever been on Mata Haru.
The last thing Napata could remember was a battle in the rain -- a battle with Darkino.
Was Darkino dead? Was Napata dead? He shuddered at the thought. But still, he had no idea where he was. The landscape looked changed-Napata had to find Wa-Koro and his Turaga.

He stood up, brushing off patches of dirt. That mountain was never there…those trees were…different. Where the frell am I? he asked himself. He was completely unarmed, completely alone, completely scared out of his mind.
“Hello!!!” he called out. There was no answer. Napata looked into the sky, a pale yellow-orange from the setting sun. “If this place is anything like home, that way is east. I should go that way until I reach the shore, then travel north.”
It was decided. Napata cracked his neck with a satisfying twist and started walking.

With the setting sun, a chill came to the air. When darkness fully swallowed Napata, the cold was so raw that he could see his breath. He had to stop and sleep, regain his warmth and strength. Wherever he was, it was a very large place, very unlike his home.

Napata awoke a few hours later. Already, the sun peaked above the horizon and shed its warmth on his numb body. He shivered the chill off and looked north. He could’ve sworn he saw someone in the north. He took off, yelling for help.
“Over here! Help! C’mon, I know you see me!”
The figure looked startled, then quickly turned and ran in the opposite direction.
“Get back here, you!” Napata cried helplessly. What’s the big deal? I just want some help…

“Who are you?” Tahkii asked.
The figure emerged from the shadows, nodding to invisible company. “We’ll need a few minutes.” His scaly slime-coated body quivered at each movement. Tahkii looked in horror upon his captor, a huge spider-legged centaur. “Yes…this is what I am, Tahkii. I am Grejhi, Prince of the Sekuls. I am their master, they serve me. Only once in a hundred years is born a leader such as myself.” Grejhi looked at his legs and arms in distinct pride. “Now do what I say. Put on the mask, Tahkii. Do as I say.”
Tahkii scooped the dull gray mask up in his hands. He had heard legends of great Toa who wore the masks, the Kanohi. He never knew they still existed. He slowly raised the Rau to his face, pausing momentarily to look at Grejhi. The centaur shot an angry look back at him, so Tahkii shoved the mask over his face. Sparks shot out of his eyes, sending a rush of power to the Hachaian’s mind. He never knew such power, such wild understanding of the past.
The Rau didn’t just give an ability to read, it gave the memories of all those who wore it.

Tahkii was not afraid.

Napata came closer to a great city. The stone walls surrounding it gave off an imperial sense, something that Napata had never truly experienced with the Koros. Pa-Koro had a stony wall, but it was nothing compared to this. Napata smiled to himself. Civilization…at last.
He slowed to a soft jog to the gate.
The guard yelled something in a foreign tongue: “Nyek! Ootif le ka shaf?”
Napata blinked slowly, responding in his own language. “Hello?”
The guard blinked now, as if he recognized the language and feared it. He backed up slowly, glancing over his shoulder. A few others had gathered now, aiming their metallic spears at Napata.
“Whoa! Sorry, guys! Ease up with the pointing of the sharp objects!”
The guards inched back. “Ek ay…Korota om eskay?”
“Wait, Korota?”
“O tuk tuk. Ey.” The guard motioned for Napata to follow him into the city.

Tahkii knew what the wall said. He knew it was the history of an island, Mata Haru. It described, in great detail, the darkness of ‘Darkino’ and how he was defeated. It said that he came back, though. It never said how it ended.
“What am I looking for, Grejhi?”
“Tell me where to find the Dark One’s mask.”
“It isn’t on here,” Tahkii lied. He knew of the Sekuls, how they worked only for themselves. They would use this mask and take over the island, destroying all who oppose them.
He wouldn’t allow it.
He was going to fight it.

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This post has been edited by Makuta Master: Nov 20 2003, 03:44 AM

[Makuta Master]

Chapter 3: Escape

Tahkii turned to Grejhi. “No,” he stated.
“’No’ what?!” You’ll do as I say, Hachaian scum, or I’ll kill you!”
The dim blue torches roared into pillars of evil fire. Tahkii turned and ran, knocking over two Sekul guards as he slammed the door open. “CATCH HIM!” the leader roared. The flaming pillars died down as the Sekul prince charged in pursuit.

The guards led Napata to an old, run-down shack. The windows, boarded shut, gave off a haunting feel, a feel of death. Shivers shot up Napata’s spine as he looked it over.
The guards stopped, suddenly and harshly. Their leader said a series of words, motioned Napata towards the door, and stepped back. Napata’s orange Miru seemed grew deeper in color as he approached the door. He knocked softly, fearing what dark spirits would fly out at the motions. The door creaked over; Napata jumped softly. An ancient yet familiar voice beckoned to him, “Please come in.”
The Tohunga obeyed. The door slammed shut behind him, instantly shrouded in darkness. A crackling light caught his attention, a light whose shine danced on the walls.
“Napata, it’s been so long…We’ve missed you.” A bright blue Huna formed from the electricity, the body ensuing.
“Turaga Kaloti!?” Napata exclaimed joyfully. “How did you get here?”
“Did you feel it, Napata? The winds…they change again. Ancient tales are being fulfilled, legends we prayed were only myth,” Kaloti said bleakly.
The chilling words swept through Napata’s mind. He had no idea what they meant, but he could feel great sadness in them. “What do you mean, Turaga?”
“Evil once again seeks greater evil, a quest that only results in bereavement.”
Napata was getting irritated. He wanted to know why he was here, why Kaloti was here. “Turaga, where am I?”
Kaloti coughed hoarsely. “I’m getting too old for this.”

Tahkii ran faster than he ever had before, but time was against him. His pale blue body was out of shape; the Sekuls were so much faster and agile then he. Tahkii thought the Sekuls would be on him in a snap, so he lunged into a bush to hide. Almost a mile away stood the Hachaian Guard tower, signifying the civilized world of the Hachaian Kingdom.
Once I get to the Hachaian Territory, I’ll be fine. Just get up, Tahkii. Run! Tahkii bolted out of the bush and ran. Glancing behind, he saw that the Sekuls had stopped and turned, but Grejhi was nowhere to be seen. He ran faster.
Fifty yards, forty, thirty--he was at the tower in minutes. “Let me up! Open the door!”
The Hachaian guard atop the tower looked down. “Tahkii? Shouldn’t you be in class?”
“No! Sekuls attacked! They may be following me! Hurry!!”
The guard banged a small drum once, the sound reverberating through the tower. The doorman opened the door and Tahkii darted inside, panting.

“You aren’t too old, Kaloti! You weren’t too old when we fought with Darkino!” Napata cried out.
“Napata, so much has changed. You were…killed, all of them were…Don’t you remember?”
Napata’s eyes grew wide. “What?”
“Darkino killed all of you. Mata Haru is no more.”
The Tohunga fell into a chair. “How…what…When is this?”
“I don’t know. We are assuming it’s some 200 years into your future. None remain who remember that battle so long ago…Except me.”


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This post has been edited by Makuta Master: May 22 2004, 08:45 AM

[Makuta Master]

Chapter 4: Venture to the City

The guard, Tahkii’s good friend Rune, could not believe the news. “The Sekuls attacked your class? That’s heartless!”
“I know, Rune. I was scared at first, you know? I was afraid that I would be killed. Then I realized that my friends were either dead and Sekul fodder, or they are captured and in big trouble.”
Disgust spread across Rune’s sandy tan Huna mask. “I swear, Tahkii, if they follow you I will fight to the death. Our world is on your shoulders. Run to the Prince, tell him these events. My squad will sound the outer wall’s alarm.” Rune shuffled over to the corner of his lookout perch. “Here, you’ll be better off taking this.” He held out a sword in a scabbard, covered in a thin layer of dust. “I assume you’ve learned some sword skills…now run, and may the Winds bring you swiftness!”
Tahkii ran down the stairs into the wild of Hachaian plains again.

The sprawling kingdom of Hachaia spanned many, many miles, and the control center took the form of a castle in the city Ha-Oonai. The Emerald Castle, as it was called, had been built into the side a of a huge mountain, originally carved out by the first of the Hachaians.
Currently, the Prince Rakuma held leadership. His father and mother had both died within the past year and his coronation was in a few days. In the ceremony, the Prince would be given the golden Kanohi Luca, symbolizing leadership, and the king’s Scepter.
Tahkii recalled the proper etiquette when speaking to the Prince, but he had no time for pleasantries. He knocked a royal guard over in his rush through the palace, charging into Rakuma’s study.
“Prince Rakuma! My name is Tahkii, I bring ill news.”
The Prince, softly sleeping in his book, rubbed his eyes and stared at Tahkii. “Who are you? What is this? GUARDS!!!”
“Hear me out. I am Tahkii of Ha-Lakei. I am a student at the Great Temple. Yesterday when I arrived, none of my students were there. The Sekul prince Grejhi did something to them and he wanted me translate the walls.” Rakuma’s eyes burned with an angry intensity, asking for more without speaking. “He forced me to wear this, a Kanohi mask of Power.” Tahkii pulled the Rau out of his bag, hardly remembering taking it off.
Rakuma gasped. “Is that…one of the old masks?”
“Yes.”
“And he wanted you to decipher the wall?”
“Yes, Prince. And I ran as fast as my legs could carry me.”
Guards stormed into the room. Rakuma looked to them. “Sound the alarm. Sekuls may attack at any time.” He turned back to Tahkii. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Tahkii sighed. “When I was approaching the temple, a wind ripped through the air. I heard voices, Rakuma, voices speaking of the rise of the darkness. The Sekuls will be here, I don’t doubt it. They want me.”
“Tahkii, as long as Hachaia is united, you will not be taken.”

Trumpets blared. Kaloti looked towards the door then back to Napata. “Our time runs short, my friend. I have something for you.” The Turaga shuffled through piles of old stuff, emerging with a necklace. “Napata, you should wear this. I made it ages ago, just for this occasion. Wearing this, you will understand the language of Hachaia. By the time your part in the first prophecy is fulfilled, you will know enough of the language to fit in.”
Napata took the amulet in his hands, and slid it around his neck. “Does it work?”
“Can you understand me now?” Kaloti said. Napata sensed an accent on Kaloti’s voice. “Yes…”
“Then it works. And you just spoke in Hachaian.”
Napata grinned, his inventor’s spirit awakening in him. “Cool.”
Kaloti laughed. “Yes. Now we must go to see the Prince. The prophecy is being fulfilled, and the alarming trumpets only confirm my theory.”

Thick clouds engulfed the sky, shielding the world from light. A bizarre yellow haze hung on the air, pressing against everything.
Napata protested the prophecies. “Turaga, you know I don’t believe in destiny.” Thunder rocked the air miles away.
“You’d better start. Korota always said you would be destined for great things. Look at you now, Napata. You have been preserved for 200 years. The Great Beings have smiled on you.”
The Tohunga sighed. “Some reward for a smile.”

They finally reached the castle, and the Turaga approached the guard and whispered something in his ear. His eyes grew wider than throwing disks, then Kaloti backed away. The two were motioned through the gates.
“Care to explain this insanity to me?”
“In time, Napata, in time,” the Turaga replied in standard style.
As the duo walked up a flight of stone stairs, a chilly breeze whistled through the windows. They kept a steady pace, the Turaga now in the lead, until they finally reached a brightly lit green room.
Immediately Napata noticed a tall figure staring out a window, a figure draped in a silky blue cloak. Napata instantly knew this regal person to be the prince Kaloti spoke of. The prince turned, smiling to the Turaga. “What a delightful surprise. To what do I owe the honor?”
“Prince Rakuma, an old legend of my people is being fulfilled. Napata, come here please.” Napata entered the room and walked to Kaloti’s side. “Rakuma, this is Napata. He is the last of my people.”
The prince looked over Napata, taking in all he could with his intense eyes of an ancient race. “Welcome to my kingdom, Napata.” Napata bowed in response, then listened to the conversation. “This makes a second bizarre event today. The Sekuls attacked the Great Temple and Tahkii over there barely escaped. You know, this whole matter is out of my league. I could use your advice, Kaloti.”
“Of course, your Highness. I have been treated so very well these past years and I am in your debt.”
“This dilemma has me worried. Tahkii, tell your story.” Tahkii left his seat and rushed over, relating the events of the past two days. When he showed Kaloti the Kanohi Rau, the Turaga’s interest grew.
“Amazing,” he muttered. Although some of the Hachaians wore representations of the old Kanohi, few owned real Great or Noble masks. “Tahkii, did you use it?”
The Hachaian nodded. “Yes, sir. I read the walls. I saw what Grejhi wanted, but I didn’t tell him. And Turaga…” Tahkii’s voice trembled. “I saw someone’s memories. I saw an ancient world and people like you and Napata, and some I never recognized.”
The Turaga was silent.
“Now will you give me an explanation?” Napata begged.
Kaloti groaned. “I suppose I owe you all one.”


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This post has been edited by Makuta Master: Nov 2 2003, 01:11 AM

[Makuta Master]

Chapter 5: The Floodgates Open

“It was so long ago,” Kaloti began, “when Mata Haru died. Our island was destroyed, but the events are still too close to my heart to tell. Darkino was unleashed again by traitorous Tohunga, unknowingly sealing Mata Haru’s fate…”
“Who?” Napata asked. He hardly remembered what Kaloti was talking about, like it was all a dream.
“It doesn’t matter--they’re gone. But it was you, Napata, you who delivered the final blow. In essence, you completed the chain of events that destroyed our home.”

“The Great Beings kept us alive, over several years. We were eventually placed back in this world, on this island…The people were more evolved, resembling the Tohunga I once remembered. We Turaga stayed in the shadows, hiding from evil. Korota knew someone was coming, one who should have died. Then the unimaginable happened, one day on a hike. Sekuls abducted Korota and Tatu, only I was left. I fought fiercely for them, but to no avail. They were taken: likely dead now. We used to have a mysterious connection; for the first few weeks of their absence I sensed them, however faint their life energies felt. I lost that bond a long time ago.

“Soon I began to doubt the legends. How would anyone be saved from that utter destruction of our world? I boarded up the home that was given, speaking to very few people. Eventually I completely cut myself off. Only recently did I again feel faith in the prophecies. I felt that the winds were again changing, the Hachaian Winds spoken of in the tales. A new evil was on the air, so I again expected you.

“The Stars look different here. No more are they the insightful objects of the Great Beings. I was completely in the dark as to who or when this hero would come.

“The prophecies say one other thing: The ancient hero would have a new friend, and together they would redeem this land. I believe these heroes to be Napata and Tahkii.”


The two looked at each other, Napata feeling a new respect for Tahkii.
The Prince thought on what he was told, then spoke. “And the Sekuls are indirectly going to summon this evil and that’s why they want Tahkii?” Kaloti nodded. “Then we’d better make preparations…they will--” he was cut off by a warning trumpet.
Guards rushed into the room, and one shouted: “Prince Rakuma! SEKULS ARE HERE!!”
“Oh frell…Kaloti, can you hold them back?” Rakuma asked. Kaloti answered in the affirmative and stood straighter. He didn’t look so old then, as his electricity coursed through him. He advanced out to the balcony in the study, looking out over the city. Swarms of the hideous insect-like creatures gushed through the gates, milling over the homes and Hachaians easily. They were focused on one goal, capturing Tahkii. Kaloti called down a lightning storm; the lightning struck its targets quickly, exploding their bodies into gooey parts. Screams rang through the cities, bringing Kaloti a certain delight.
Prince Rakuma was rushed to a secure room and Napata and Tahkii were left to fend for themselves. Tahkii took his sword out and pointed Napata towards the wall where an axe was hung on the wall. Napata rushed over and grabbed it, and the two stormed out into the stairway.

Sekul warriors broke through the castle gates. Their collective minds guided them to the goal, the carrier of the Kanohi Rau. It called to them.
Tahkii and Napata confronted them in the main hall. Hundreds of Sekuls against a Tohunga and a Hachaian; the odds were hardly fair. Napata took to one side of the room, swinging heavily with his axe. He split limbs and hacked out blood. As the demons flooded in more, Napata saw that his new partner was cornered.

Tahkii stood atop a pile of lifeless Sekuls. He battled fiercely, until it seemed that all hope was lost. Out of nowhere a flash burst forth, disintegrating any Sekul left alive. Tahkii cringed, the smell of burnt flesh wafting to his senses.
“What…happened?”
Turaga Kaloti stepped out of the shadowy staircase. “I thought you could use some help.”
Tahkii trembled softly. “Thanks?”

The rest of the hordes retreated. “The floodgates were opened, Turaga. I saw the enemy. I know what I must do now,” Napata commented quietly. “Let’s do this.”


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This post has been edited by Makuta Master: Nov 5 2003, 06:36 AM

[Makuta Master]

Chapter 6: Departure

Tahkii nervously sat down in the prince’s study. “Napata, are you sure about this? I mean, I hardly know you, you hardly know me. I’m just a student at the temple; hardly a warrior.”
“I’m sure, Tahkii. Look, I don’t believe in fate and destiny. For me to say that we’re supposed to do this is hard. I’m still debating inside, but I know how it will end. I’ve seen too many chances to stop evil that I know what happens when you don’t rise up to the challenge. Trust me.”
“Okay,” Tahkii replied. He stayed silent for a moment, then spoke again. “You sure can fight.”
Napata laughed quietly. “I’ve seen more fights in one day than you’ve seen your whole life. I’m used to this stuff.” Napata shoved a dagger into his pack. “I went face to face with Darkino. I’m not scared by some giant bugs.” Napata looked at Tahkii. “You can handle yourself well enough.”
“It’s a part of the training. They don’t send guards out to the temple. We have to defend ourselves.” Tahkii reflected on what had happened. “You know, I wonder if my class is really gone.”
Napata’s face turned grim as he looked Tahkii in the eye. “Don’t get your hopes up. I’ve seen entire villages slaughtered. I don’t think one class is beyond a force like the Sekuls.”

Kaloti wanted to speak once more before the duo left. He explained again their goal: Find the Dark Lord’s mask and keep it from Grejhi. Defend the mask at all costs, but they were never to wear it. Grejhi, Kaloti elucidated, was more than a leader of the Sekuls. Grejhi served the role of Caller of the Ancient. He alone could summon an evil to Hachaia, he alone had an elite legion of dark spirits under his control.
“Your journey is not easy. It should not be taken lightly. The fate of the world rests in your hands. It’s not like we can hold your hand this whole time, you two. This is serious stuff.”
Tahkii and Napata acknowledged this, and, even though Tahkii still had doubts, they set out on a journey to the temple. Tahkii had to read the walls and learn the location of the mask, then he and Napata would proceed to discover it and return to the Prince and Kaloti.

The walk to the outer walls of the Kingdom was uneventful. No Sekuls attacked them, no dark spirits wounded them. As they approached the guard’s tower, Tahkii called, “Rune, it’s Tahkii! Can we come up?”
No response came back. Tahkii called again. Nothing.
Napata ran to the tower, where he discovered a rope ladder hanging off the side; an obvious escape route. He looked closer, he just knew something wasn’t right.
There, entangled in the bottom of the ladder, lay a mangled Hachaian wearing a sandy tan Huna mask. “Um…Tahkii, you know who this is?”
Tahkii ran over. “Oh god…It’s Rune, my friend…He said he’d guard the gate to his death…” Napata propped the dead body up, investigating the wounds. “I didn’t think it would go that far.” Tahkii buried his face in his arms. “If I would’ve just given that…thing…what he wanted right away this wouldn’t have happened.”
Napata could think of no way to console his new partner. He remembered what happened to him those many years ago when he watched his friend get slaughtered by a Shadow Toa, how he acted in revenge and it nearly cost him his life. Napata knew what it did to him; if he could spare one life from the pain he endured, he’d try. “We should…give him a proper burial.”

Napata found a shovel in the guard tower and dug a grave. Tahkii stood aside, silent, but Napata knew rage was wheeling through his mind.
Abruptly, Napata’s thoughts went to how. How did Rune die? The Tohunga had looked into the eye of the enemy just days before. He had seen the pure mindlessness of their attacks. Whatever killed Rune, whoever killed him…they were not some lowly Sekul slave. Napata held this back; he’d have to gather proof first.

That night the two decided to stake out the tower. Barring the gate shut in the lower level, Napata was told to sleep first. Tahkii climbed up to the top of the tower to keep watch.
Napata dreamt that he roamed his homeland once more.
He came to his hut on Mata Haru, back in the village of time. It was empty; none of his things lay against the wall or on shelves. He backed out his hut, unsure about what was real here. He felt a tap on his shoulder and spun, sending him face-to-face with his old Turaga Korota. The Turaga of Time’s eyes twinkled behind his white Komau. “Why, Napata, we didn’t expect to see you so soon!”
Napata smiled. “I’m back where I belong.”
No sooner than Napata said that, the shape of his Turaga twisted and convulsed, then burst into flames.
“Turaga!!” Napata shouted. The convulsions stopped, but the flame brought to life a new demon. A huge creature with a billowing cloak stood behind Korota, laughing madly.
“You are not home! You will never be home; your home is dead! This, you unfortunate Tohunga, is what your home has become.” As the demon spoke, the familiar Wa-Koro washed away in dark energy, giving birth to a landscape Napata only just recognized.
“No…”
He stood staring at the great Emerald Castle.

Shock awoke Napata; fire fed it even more. The small fire, started earlier in the night for heat, was eating everything and Napata’s bedding was next. He leapt from his blankets and ran up the stairs to Tahkii.
“We have a problem!” Napata panted. Tahkii peered over the ledge of the tower. “If you think that little fire was it then you’ve got another thing coming.” He pointed down to the ground.
The Swarm had found them.



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