"Even in ruins, the view is still beautiful." he spoke to his she-matoran companion, his lime green eyes locked on the horizon in a distant expression of reminiscence.

The Noble Ruru-wearing, Dark-blue-on-sky Ga-Matoran glanced at the jet-black, Ruru-wearing Matoran sitting on the roof to her left, sharing in his memories.

Sensing her gaze, he laid his back on the roof's ledge, propped himself up on his elbows, and responded to his companion a wry grin. "But not as beautiful as you, love."

She blushed bashfully at the black Matoran's complement, and the two companions looked out over the once-silver city that was Metru-Nui.

The city's jumbled, juxtaposed, and jungle-riddled skyline was still draped in a garland of Visorak webs and broken cables. An unnatural olive-avocado green haze rose up from the ground levels of the city into the dark, half-lit sky; obscuring the details of the ruined skyline, and blotting out the true horizon beyond. Construction floodlights around the base of the ravaged Colosseum created an artificial and almost eternal sunset in an expanding gradient of white and green. For a long, meditative moment, the pair of Matoran enjoyed the ethereal and almost mysterious view of the city from their rooftop perch.

The Ga-Matoran stole another quick glance at her companion, noticing right away that the wry and reminiscent look on his face had melted into a heavy and wearied expression. It was as if a dark memory had surfaced among all his bright ones... She knew if she didn't break her silence, her companion would soon spiral.

"Honey..." she spoke, trying not to sound concerned. "It's good to have you back."

The black matoran blinked and nodded, looking at his she-matoran companion out of the corner of his eye. "Yeah."

After a long pause, her concern for her friend finally won out over her fear of making the situation worse. "I know you're going to have to explain yourself to the Turaga Council soon, love... but..."

"It's okay." he spoke, sitting up and folding his arms over his knees. "It's fine. Really."

"I... I don't think you are." She tried to put a hand on her companion's shoulder. "You haven't been the same since --"

The darker Matoran just covered his face with his left hand, shrugging off his companion's comfort.

"I know I haven't been the same..." he replied with a growl. "Who would be after what I've seen? What I've done?" he tried to sound angry in an attempt to mask his despair. "... I failed on so many levels, love. Destroyed more than I've built. No matter how clean, my hands are still stained with the blood of the countless lives I've ruined and destroyed," He placed a hand on his chest, and ran his fingers over the jagged, pronounced scar running down the left side of his mask. "So many... Including my own."

The Ga-Matoran saw the color in her companion's eyes flicker back and forth from lime green to bright red, a focused grimace on his face exposed between his fingers.

"... and the worst part is that did it all willingly. I partook and enjoyed it all..."

And before she could stop him, the dark Matoran vaulted off the ledge and into the haze below.

Shocked, the Ga-Matoran looked over the ledge and into the murky green ether below as the form of her friend vanished into the haze. She knew, though, that her friend would not hit the ground... And sure enough, after a moment of tense waiting, she could see the silhouette of a great winged beast fly aimlessly through the mist, his wearied lime-green eyes looking up at the Ga-Matoran. He let out a forlorn cry before flying deeper into the mists and vanishing from view.

I'm a monster, love. That's all I will be remembered being... the Ga-Matoran heard in the whispering air. The whisper of wind then started to pick up into steady gusts, signaling a storm brewing beyond the haze.

"You're no monster..." she whispered, standing up on the ledge with her hands clasped over her heart. "How many times do I have to tell you that...?"

Witness to this scene, a cloaked stalker peered out of a broken window below the rooftop. He drew an arrow from his quiver and aimed his bow into the haze where the beast vanished.

Sorry, dear... the Hunter mused to himself, loading the arrow and pulling back on the bowstring. But he is a monster to me.

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Updating every Wednesday, A Life of Open Wounds - a novel by Moutekea

Learn the origins of legends lost to infinity and the redemption of an icon.

Coming Soon (Sooner than K&M: AVATAR, that's for sure. XD)