Here's my end of BZPower's 2018 Fanfic Exchange for Toa of Gallifrey. Their prompt included memoirs from the Matoran Civil War. I'm really sorry for being late at posting this. Without further ado, here's... BURNING FLAMES METRU NUI - THE MATORAN CIVIL WAR (79,500 YEARS AGO) Often times at night, Kwaaser would dream of darkness. Then, a spark of flame would ignite in its center. And like every other flame, it would spread. The longer the flame lived, the more fierce it roared. And the more fierce it roared, the more unstoppable it would become. When Kwaaser awoke, that flame he knew, was him. Kwaaser awoke in a cold sweat. He kicked away his blanket and sat against the headboard, breathing heavily. He rubbed his temples before checking the clock on his drawer. 4:00 AM, he had only been asleep for half an hour. It wasn’t that he was not used to it, but it wasn’t always that he had the chance to sleep in his own bed. He hoped to get at least an hour of sleep after all the work he went through yesterday. He let out a hard sigh, before he got off his bed and looked through his window. Despite the darkness of the sky, the lights of Ta Metru still burned as bright as ever. He half-expected an explosion or some sort of attack on the city as he looked out of the window, but none of that occurred. Things have gotten significantly quiet these recent months. Even though the war had not yet ended, victory he knew, was in his favor. Dawn had yet to rise. For now, the sky was still dark and illuminated with the glimmering stars above. He never noticed this before but the stars seemed to glow a lot dimmer than they used to be. When exactly was the last time he spent contemplating them? Centuries ago, he assumed. Back when he was a simple blacksmith smelting protodermis in his small forge. He was more than that now. To think that mere hundreds of years ago he was living the life of a nobody in Ta Metru. Now here he was, at the very top of the mountains. All he had to do now was reach for the stars. Some time later, Kwaaser walked out of the room equipped with his gear and armor. His double-sided blade in his right hand. His other mask was replaced with a custom red Kakama with golden streaks across its edges, representing authority. His armor was a perfect blend of black and red, able to intimidate any lesser foe in battle. He wore his attire with pride, always giving off a regal demeanor to his troops and anyone around him. To his men, he was a great leader. To his allies, he was a fearful friend. And to his adversaries, he was a great force to be reckoned with. He strolled through the halls of the tower. The few workers and guards that were still on their shift he passed by bowed in respect. He took a few turns before entering an even larger hallway, a beautifully decorated entrance stood at the end. He entered into a large room as the entrance automatically shut behind him. This room was his personal den for him to train early in the mornings, or for him to meditate and relax, or just simply to release tension by throwing anything he found in the room. The room was large and had various weapons neatly sorted on both of its sides, along with several other decorations to give off a peaceful atmosphere. He clapped his hands twice and the artificial lightstones in the room came to life. If Kwaaser had not possessed such quick reflexes, he would have had a sword slice through his neck. He took a step back and blocked the attack with his double-sided blade, eyes narrowed and fixed on his assailant. The attacker was a Matoran who wore a black cloak and a veil that covered most of his face. Clearly he was not native to Metru Nui. What nearly surprised Kwaaser was the attacker’s red armor, it took him a moment to face the fact that he was facing off with one of his own kind. The attacker smirked under his veil, “You’re pretty fast, I shouldn’t have expected less from the tyrant of Ta Metru.” Kwaaser scowled, he lashed out his blade at his attacker. The attacker successfully dodged Kwaaser’s attacks, stepping back as he did. He then blocked them with his sword. “Tyrant, I am not. I am the very guardian of this city, and my duty is to protect it from the likes of you, traitor.” The attacker grinned, “Traitor? I’ve had nothing to do with this depressed Makuta hole in the first place. And I’m privileged to be the one to take out its leader.” It was the attacker’s turn to strike his sword at Kwaaser. His attacks were swift and fast, but no issue for Kwaaser to dodge, much to the attacker’s surprise. Was this Matoran a Dark Hunter? The Po Metru alliance must have been utterly desperate to employ mercenaries. Kwaaser decided that it only meant that he was better at winning the war than he thought. Kwaaser parried his attack and lunged towards the Dark Hunter, sending a swift strike with his blade. It happened in a blink of an eye, but before the assassin realized, he already began coughing up blood. He dropped his sword, and moved his hand towards his neck. He didn’t want to look, but he knew exactly what had just happened. His eyes widened, before he fell on his knees and onto the floor. The blood now pooled under his body. Kwaaser eased himself and straightened his back now that the danger was relieved. “And you are privileged to have fallen to his blade,” he said. He took a few deep breaths and stared at the Dark Hunter’s corpse for a while, somewhat lost in thought. He thought of what he would be doing next. Call the guards, tell somebody to clean this up, yell at Captain Vopudi and his right hand Jaller for a bit, and probably even hold a meeting with the War Cabinet to arrange an attack towards the opposing Metru as retaliation for trying to assassinate him. He let out a long sigh, today was going to be another busy day. “Wow. I have to admit, that was actually quite impressive.” The voice came from behind, but Kwaaser turned to see no one. He took a defensive stance once more. The voice now seemed to be circling around him. “When I happened to find that Dark Hunter, Snake, lurking around the building, I actually thought he was going to save my pal and I the effort.” “Pal?” Kwaaser asked. “Yeah. I should warn you, though. He’s...not that good looking as I am. I suggest that you close your eyes.” He didn’t, and Kwaaser turned to see a monstrous creature appear behind him. Before Kwaaser could respond, the creature laid a hand on his shoulder and the two vanished, leaving behind a cloud of black smoke. Jerbraz rested both his hands behind his head as Kwaaser and Botar were now gone. Another job well done, he thought. Can’t say I didn’t warn him, though. Nevertheless, the Ta Metru leader should be thankful that Helryx was merciful enough to slam these trouble-making warlords in The Pit rather than let them get mangled by Makuta Teridax. Or was getting slashed by the Brotherhood second-in-command more merciful than spending an eternity in prison? Whatever, it wasn’t Jerbraz’s problem. Speaking of Teridax, he should really get going before the maniac arrives on the island any time soon. Too bad The Pit doesn’t have enough room to fit an entire city. And with that, the invisible Jerbraz left the room and casually walked outside before taking off into the sky. The sudden gust created by his wings startled a few nearby Matoran. Often times at night, Kwaaser would dream of darkness. Then, a spark of flame would ignite in its center, and like every other flame, it would spread. The longer the flame lived, the more fierce it roared. But like any other flame, this one finally came to its end. This flame burned on nothing and even after it was extinguished, nothing was all that it left. Not even a scorch, only the original blackness that was already there. Whenever Kwaaser awoke in his hut in New Atero, that flame he knew, was him. He would wake up in a cold sweat, before getting ready for the day. Preparing to go to work at his new forge, and resume his duties as a humble blacksmith. ~~Author's Notes~~ So there it was, my story for Toa of Gallifrey. I hope you like it and I'm really sorry that this story was super short. I actually have a different and longer story saved in Word. I thought of posting that one but the story felt kind of convoluted in the end. There was also a lot of other stuff that happened that by the deadline (which, yes, was about two days ago) I felt like the story didn't turn out the way I wanted it to. It just...really sucked in my opinion. After some thought, I finally decided to scrap the draft I had and start a totally different story that still focused on the Matoran Civil War and Kwaaser as the main character. I think it's because I'm more used to writing stories with simple plots like this one that the other story I had turned out not as good as I wanted it to. Again, I'm really sorry that this story is really short, Toa of Gallifrey, and if it wasn't what you hoped for.
