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Despair - a Voya Nui short story


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Two Matoran sat on the edge of a cliff overlooking the Voya Nui Bay, silently conversing. The first was an old Ta-Matoran named Kapua. Kapua was walking along a mountain path, looking for a place to recharge his Lightning Rod during the coming storm, when he saw another Matoran wandering nearby. This was the second Matoran, a De-Matoran who introduced himself to Kapua as Vinurr. Vinurr didn’t say what he was doing all alone near the Bay, but he seemed as if he needed company. Kapua was more than happy to oblige.

“There’s an interesting thing about the elements you might not know about, Vinurr.” Kapua knew of De-Matoran’s sensitivity to sound, so he talked as quietly as possible.

“What’s that?” Vinurr was shy, but he seemed to appreciate the attention.

“This is something a Ko-Matoran scholar once taught me, you can divide them based on two modes of control: power and quantity or precision and finesse. Fire, Water and Air, for example, demand power, while Plasma, Ice and Sonics demand-”

“Plasma?” whispered Vinurr, “That’s an element too?”

“Of course it is, my friend,” chuckled Kapua gently. “Although it’s not that common. I’ve only met a few Su-Matoran, or Matoran of Plasma, on my travels. They’re a little like us, Ta-Matoran, except their armour is mostly orange and- Hold on.”

Kapua was once a trader, an occupation that demanded many ocean-going treks. This in turn, demanded of him an intricate knowledge of the weather. Sailors taught Kapua the basics, time and experience taught him the rest. Right now, the wind speed had suddenly increased and dark foreboding clouds were quickly approaching. A sense of unease went over him, he had seen these signs before. There’s one thing that he still needed to check.

“Vinurr,” he said, standing up, “can you do something for me?”

Vinurr stood up as well, awaiting his request.

“I want you to listen carefully at that coming storm. Tell me if you can hear any thunder.”

The De-Matoran nodded and closed his eyes to better focus on the sound. Kapua also focused on the coming clouds, keeping his optical sensors peeled for any signs of lightning flashes. He stood there for what felt like an eternity but saw nothing. Finally, he turned to Vinurr.

“Hear anything?”

The De-Matoran opened his eyes and shook his head. “No thunder, nothing.”

Kapua felt a chill run up his organic tissue. He knew what that meant. How did he not see it coming?

“Come,” he said, picking up his Lightning Rod, “we need to run and warn our friends a hurricane is coming.”


Kapua ran slowly and awkwardly. He cursed Karzahni for the horrible work he did on his legs and forcing him to use his weapon as a crutch, but he also cursed himself. He should’ve been more observant. Vinurr held his hand to help him navigate the rocky terrain. Not so far below lay the Matoran village. Kapua looked down.

“We’re not going to make it in time,” he huffed and let go of Vinurr. “Run ahead to the village. Tell them to seek shelter. Caves, overhangs, anything to stay out of the storm!”


De-Matoran weren’t known to raise their voice, even in the worst of circumstances, so the shout that came from Vinurr took Kapua by surprise.


“I can’t lose another friend!”

The two Matoran stood in a silence ravaged by screaming winds and stared at each other, one in disbelief, the other in defiance. In that moment, a dawning realisation struck Kapua.

“There was a reason you were wandering up the Bay, wasn’t there?”

Vinurr’s head drooped in sadness. “He was a Po-Matoran from Mahri Nui. He sank on that day with all the others. I was… I don’t’ why but I was hoping I could find a trace of him, you know? Anything to remember him by.”

Kapua gently placed his hand on Vinurr’s shoulder.

“He was the only friend I had.”

“What was his name?”

Vinurr slowly raised his gaze.

“Suru,” he whispered.

It was then that a hard wind struck them both, sending them plummeting towards the village.


When he awoke, Kapua was lying in a shallow pool of water. His armour was scraped and his back ached from the fall. Staggering, he stood up and looked around. He found himself in the middle of the village. The hurricane had taken its toll. Houses were destroyed. The village streets were littered with rubble, branches and terribly mangled bodies of dead Matoran. One of these wore grey armour and looked familiar to Kapua.


Kapua limped towards the De-Matoran, hoping against hope that he was still alive. He fell to his knees and checked Vinurr’s heartlight.

It was no longer flashing.


One Matoran stood on the edge of a cliff overlooking the Voya Nui Bay, silent. He was a Ta-Matoran named Kapua. He had recently lost a friend. In his hands was a cracked grey Kanohi, which belonged to that same friend. The Matoran of Kapua’s native land had a custom, where they would remove the Kanohi from the dead and give it to their friends. Vinurr didn’t have any living friends, at least none that Kapua knew of. But there was another…

Gently, he dropped Vinurr’s mask into the waters of the Bay. As it made a barely audible splash, Kapua hoped that the De-Matoran’s spirit would finally reunite with his fallen friend.



NOTE: The titbit about elements was inspired by this post: https://www.tumblr.com/bomonga/692070752778895360/current-thoughts-on-how-some-elements-work-in#notes

Edited by TahnokTrapper
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