The Herald of Darkness

[ZOMBI3S]

Author's Note: For a brief summary and description of the world that this story takes place in, as well as a linked Table of Contents, feel free to visit the Review Topic.

Thanks for reading!

 

 

 

 

~Prologue~

 

It was a typical day in the city of Le-Koro. The sun was shining through the great canopy of leaves, and a gentle breeze blew fluffy white clouds across the vibrant blue sky. Matoran milled about the city streets, vendors hocked their products, farmers plowed the land, fishermen cast their lures into the jungle’s streams and rivers — and as Turaga Matau awoke, everything told him it was going to be just another day in the City of Air.

 

But the Turaga knew better.

 

For today, he was expecting a package. A delivery, made in secret, the result of countless plans and projects. Today was the day he and the other Turaga had waited for. They’d deliberated, contemplated, mused upon, and at the end of it all, it came down to a small exchange, just outside the city. A simple passing of the baton, within the privacy of Le-Wahi’s ancient trees.

 

Yes, the Turaga thought as he lay in his bed, staring up at oak ceiling of his home. Today is a very special day, indeed.

 

For years, the Turaga had searched in secret, following leads and legends, desperately trying to untangle the threads of Mata Nui’s mysteries. And there’d been successes — hints and clues, pointing them in different directions, but nothing ever concrete. Nothing ever solid. That is… until a few weeks ago.

 

It was Whenua who had found it. Amongst the goods of a market vendor, in an unremarkable town outside of Onu-Koro. He’d known it… somehow. Picked it out amidst the other trinkets for sale. Paid a fair sum, thanked the vendor, and returned immediately to his chambers. There’d been much discussion about what to do next, but eventually the six had agreed Le-Koro was the best place to hide it. It was small, out of the way, and unexpected. And if the eyes of Makuta were everywhere… what mattered most was the unexpected.

 

And so the Turaga of Le-Koro arose from his bed and washed his Mahiki, preparing for the oncoming day. He grabbed his favorite walking staff, shaped like a decorative buzz saw, and stepped out of his hut. This sunshine warmed his face as he gazed upon his city, and he smiled. The buildings arose from the ground and from the trees, intertwining with the natural forest, yet pointedly standing out. From the high platform his home rested upon, he looked down on the town center, a bustling square of merchants, vendors, and otherwise happy and busy Matoran. He breathed a satisfied sigh, before turning to a nearby ladder, climbing down to the ground level, and joining his people.

 

A few called out to him, and he smiled and waved, recognizing many faces. But Le-Koro had grown much in recent years, and so there were always those he recognized but couldn’t place, and those still he didn’t recognize at all. Casually, he moved through the morning crowd to the edge of the square, where a wagon was attached to two Mahi, waiting for him. Using his staff for balance, he climbed into the driver’s seat, and took the reins.

 

“Turaga!” A young voice called out to him from somewhere in the crowd.

 

Matau looked around for the source of the voice, and smiled when he saw a little girl running toward him and the wagon. “Well, well! How are you today, Talim?”

 

“Okay I guess," she said plainly, but then lit up with a polite, big smile. "How are you, Turaga?”

 

“I’m… just fine!” he leaned over to talk to the girl. "But why are you only okay, little one? It is a beautiful day out. You should be great!” He smiled. Talim was near to his heart, for she always found interesting things going on in the city, and always made sure the Turaga went with her to scope it out

 

She held her hands behind her back and looked down at the ground. “The butcher won’t let me play in his kitchen…” she said sadly.

 

“Now, now, Talim,” he replied, stifling a laugh. “Don’t you think it’s a little dangerous to be playing there? The butcher uses many sharp knives. You could hurt yourself.”

 

“But it’s fun…” she drifted off, and her eyes lit up again with an idea. “Will you tell me the story of Takua? And the Toa of light?”

 

“I’m sorry, I don’t have time for that right now,” Matau looked at her for a moment, considering a thought before deciding to go ahead with it. “But — tell you what! Would you like to ride in this wagon with me? I’m going off into the forest!”

 

Talim grinned ear to ear. “Yes! I love the forest!”

 

“Well, hurry up then, we’ve a schedule to keep!” He held out his hand, giving the small Matoran a boost, and she happily bounced into the seat next to him.

 

“Let’s go! Let’s go!” she chanted. “To the forest!”

 

Matau shook his head, humoring her as he flicked the Mahi’s reigns, and they started to move. They made their way through the city streets, weaving through the buildings and trees, eventually making their way into the city’s outskirts. And all the while Talim went on about how she was a princess, traveling through a magical land full of mystical and dangerous Rahi. Soon enough, the duo had left the city behind them, and they were alone, in the quiet woods of Le-Wahi.

 

The trees towered over them, ancient, silent, and wise.

 

The Turaga soon reached his destination, a small clearing in the woods, ringed with ferns and wildflowers. The road ran through it, silent and secluded, surrounded by the thick undergrowth. He motioned for the Mahi to stop. Quickly, Talim hopped out, and began to play in the long grass.

 

“Now don’t go too far, there’s dangerous Rahi out here!” he called after her, but she didn’t reply, choosing instead skip around, her attention pulled only to where her whims directed. Matau smiled as he lay back on the wagon, his gaze drifting to the sky, relaxing as he waited for his package to arrive.

 

He waited for the better part of an hour, watching the clouds slowly roll across the sky. And when Talim was tired of playing in the grass, she returned, climbing into the seat next to him. For a few minutes, they gazed to the skies together, but the girl quickly fell asleep. Curled up on the seat and breathing softly, she didn’t hear the approach of another cart, for which Matau blinked, sat up, and quickly got up to his feet.

 

Three Ko-Matoran met his gaze. Their cart approached him as he stood, stoic, in the tall grass on the side of the road. Their Mahi slowed to a stop, and the Ko-Matoran got out, silent as their boots hit the earth. Matau eyed them, picking out their roles — two armored guards, and the herald of his package: a tall Matoran with an off-white Akaku.

 

A plain, iron box rested in his hands.

 

“Kokani,” the Turaga bowed, calm as he addressed the newcomer, only a hint of surprise in his voice. “Nuju appointed you? Things have changed.”

 

“You are correct,” Kokani said plainly. He held out the box to the Turaga. “Nuju sends his blessing; may you stay out of Makuta’s gaze.” He paused, his eyes flicking between the iron box and Matau, but then he went on. “He also asks that I accompany you to Le-Koro for the next few days. In case anything should happen. So long as that’s amenable to you, of course.”

 

“I send my thanks. And… yes.” Matau concluded. “Perhaps that would be a good idea.”

 

He took the box Kokani offered, pausing for a moment. And the Ko-Matoran reached out, carefully opening it, revealing… a stone.

 

A small jewel, black as night in the midday sun. It was the polar opposite of a lightstone — crystalline in shape, yet impossibly darker than its surroundings. And it was beautiful, in a way. A way that hinted of… something more. Something powerful, yet dangerous. The way  darkness can grant invisibility, while hiding demons within its depths.

 

Matau gazed at the small, black jewel, falling into its interior as he contemplated all that had happened for this moment to come. And the stone sat in silence — staring back at him.

 

The Turaga shook his head, and the moment ended. He took the stone, holding it close to his chest, eyes returning to Kokani.

 

“I suppose we should head back then.”

 

Kokani nodded, and the two climbed into Matau’s wagon as the other Ko-Matoran bade a silent farewell. They turned their cart around, heading back the way they came — north, to higher elevation and colder weather. Kokani looked into the passenger seat of Matau’s vehicle, surprised to find Talim, still curled up, fast asleep. He stared at the Turaga.

 

“You brought along a child?”

 

“She’s such a sweet girl,” Matau replied.

 

“Do you realize how dangerous this could be? What if Makuta knows we’re here?” he asked, nearly scolding the Turaga.

 

“Relax, Kokani.” Matau replied over his shoulder. “You shouldn’t worry so much. Everything will be fine.”

 

“Famous last words…”

 

“If you say so,” Matau climbed into the driver’s seat. “But I’ve spent a long time knocking on wood — and I’ve found the only thing that really matters is one’s attitude about it all.”

 

Kokani said nothing, and instead climbed into the back of the wagon. Matau pulled on the Mahi’s reigns, and the animals turned around, pulling the three Matoran with them. Slowly, they made their way back to the city.

 

By the time they made it back to Le-Koro proper, it was a well past midday. Talim, now awake, hopped out of the cart, waved goodbye to the Turaga and her new-found friend, Kokani. Merrily, she skipped through Le-Koro’s busy square until she was out of sight. And Matau and Kokani moved to the tall tree on the corner, climbing to the platform of the Turaga’s house, and the Turaga brought out cold drinks for the two of them. Soon, they found themselves sitting upon Matau’s balcony, watching the people of Le-Koro go about their business below.

 

“It’s strange how it all worked out,” Kokani stated, and Matau raised his eyebrows, leading him to continue. “We’ve gone after every possible rumor, followed dangerous Rahi all around the island, searched the camps of Kryll, and lost so many Matoran along the way. And then, all of a sudden, Turaga Whenua finds it… in the hands of an everyday vendor. Just by chance.”

 

Matau sipped his drink and gazed at the sun, slowly creeping its way toward the horizon. “Life is strange, Kokani,” he finally replied.

 

The two sat there for the better part of the day, catching up on current events and everything they had missed in each other's lives since their previous encounter. The sun slowly descended to the treetops, and soon the two beings found themselves bathed in the pink-orange light of sunset. The bustle below started to slow, the shops beginning to close for the night.

 

After all, to the Matoran, it was another typical day. They didn’t know that an ancient and powerful artifact had entered their home, nor did they care why. Only Matau and Kokani spoke of danger, of Makuta, in any real sense, for everyone else only knew such things as legends and myths — stories, to tell around campfires on spooky nights. And there was no reason to believe anything otherwise.

 

The last of the shops closed their doors, the sun sank below the trees, and as night crept in, it seemed the day would end without incident.

 

But that soon proved not to be true.

 

“Turaga! Come quick!”

 

Matau was just standing up when he heard voice, the sound of soft feet approaching. Looking over the edge of his platform, he saw Talim — but this wasn’t her typical playful skipping. The little girl ran with purpose, and so he moved quickly, climbing down to meet her on ground level.

 

“What’s wrong Talim?”

 

She slid to a halt and grabbed the Turaga’s hand, pulling him so he would move. “Just come!”

 

“Is everything alright?”

 

“Um…” her big blue eyes looked up at his. “Yeah?”

 

Matau furrowed his brow, not knowing what that meant. Briefly, he met Kokani’s gaze as the Ko-Matoran looked down at them. “I’ll be back,” he let out, noticing the furrow on his brow. “And didn’t I tell you to relax earlier? Everything will be fine.”

 

He sensed Kokani’s disapproval, but didn’t let it stop him. Talim yanked at his wrist, impatiently groaning, and he rolled his eyes affectionately, giving in to her need to show him… whatever was drastically important.

 

Her grip unyielding, she half-dragged him through the winding city streets, this way and that, through the outskirts, until the last of the houses disappeared, and the pair found themselves surrounded by trees, and darkness.

 

“What is out here, Talim?” Matau frowned, feeling a sudden chill as night settled upon them. “At this hour?”

 

“Just hurry!”

 

Another dozen feet up the road, and then she turned off it, leading the Turaga through a bramble patch, and… a light appeared in front of them. Matau blinked, processing, but Talim urged him to move faster, pulling him through more underbrush until they found themselves in a small clearing.

 

“Look! Look what I found!” Talim said excitedly.

 

And Matau's eyes widened.

 

There, in front of him, sat a young Matoran. He held Talim’s lightstone, the yellow light reflecting off his black Pakari, a confused look upon his face. He gazed up at the Turaga with big, bright green eyes, holding the stone nervously, too shy to speak or move. He seemed to be about Talim’s age.

 

“Oh my,” Matau let out, and he approached slowly, carefully, his boots soft upon the wildflowers. Of all the things Talim could have shown him — he hadn’t expected this. “…What is your name, little one?”

 

But the Matoran shied away from him.

 

“Come now — don’t be afraid,” he smiled, trying to show that he meant no harm. Cautiously, he reached out, offering his hand. “Are you alright? What’s your name?”

 

“I…I don’t know,” the Matoran stuttered.

 

 “…You don’t know your name?”

 

The Matoran shook his head.

 

The Turaga eyed him up and down, puzzled. From the looks of him, he was a Le-Matoran. “Well,” he concluded after a moment. “You must have a name if you are to come back with us to Le-Koro.”

 

The nervous Matoran looked up at him, then at Talim. “I don’t know my name,” he said quietly as he dipped his head, almost ashamed of the fact.

 

Matau could only frown, contemplating the situation as he scratched his mask. The Le-Matoran was too young to be out in the forest, especially alone, this late in the evening. Perhaps he had run away from home? And in the process fell and hit his head, affecting his memory? He swallowed, letting his thoughts simmer — he certainly had to do… something.

 

“…Would you want to come home with us?” came Talim’s voice suddenly.

 

Matau blinked, looking from her, then back to the Matoran. That was their option — at least for now. The Matoran sat there, still clutching the lightstone as the night settled, ever thicker. “…Well?” Matau prompted, reiterating the girl’s words.

 

And slowly, the little Matoran nodded.

 

Matau let out a soft smile, quietly deciding that he could take care of the Matoran, at least until they could find his family. “But what shall we call you…?” he pondered out loud.

 

Talim tugged on his hand, begging for his attention once more, and Matau leaned down to hear what she had to say. With both hands around her mouth, she whispered into his ear.  He let out a small chuckle, then stood back up.

 

“Alright — that’s fitting enough for a boy with no memory,” he acknowledged, finding the humor in it. “It probably won’t stick, but for now — we shall call you Takua. In honor of the Toa of Light.”

 

Takua sat on the ground, holding his lightstone. Turaga Matau offered his hand once again, and — nervously — he took it.

 

“Come now, little one,” Matau said. “Let’s take you home.”

Edited May 20 by ZOMBI3S

[ZOMBI3S]

 

Chapter 1 - The Spring Solstice

 

He had slept for so long. His dreams had been dark ones.

 

But now he was awakened, the scattered elements of his mind returning, slowly bringing him back to reality — quietly carrying him once more, to the calm, gentle embrace of his bed.

 

This happened every once and a while; his head imagining shadows while he slept, conjuring images of great clashes, long ago. But that was the case for everyone occasionally, and so Takua thought nothing of it as he lay with his face in his pillow, teetering on the edge of consciousness, eyes still shut as the pitter-patter of rain tapped upon the low roof above his head. He lay there for a while, unmoving — comfy, and content, to ignore the rest of the world.

 

But the world, it seemed, had other plans.

 

Squawk!

 

Takua groaned, eyes cracking open at the bird’s shrill call. There was a moment of silence, a brief few seconds of hesitation before a series of short, high pitched chirps made their way to his ears, suggesting an impending, noisy climax.

 

“No… too early…” Takua’s voice rattled, groggy as he turned his head to the side, staring at the small, single-panel window beside his bed. “Don’t do this….”

 

Squaaaawk!

 

 “Why…!” he grumbled, dragging out the syllable as he reached over, smacking the glass pane with his palm. It opened with a creak, and he stuck his head outside, blinking the sleep from his eyes as drops of rain hit his face.

 

“Shut! Up! You stupid bird!”

 

The Kewa sitting atop his roof let out another squawk, startled by his voice, but it ruffled its feathers and flew away. Takua's head slumped back to his pillow, satisfied with himself. He grabbed the covers he had kicked back during the night, pulling them over his mask once more.

 

It was a quiet, rainy morning in the village of Le-Koro, and the small shack Takua lived in was just enough to keep the wind and water out of his face. Nestled underneath the root of large tree, it sat on the southern outskirts of town, close enough to still be walkable, yet far enough to allow a bit of privacy. Its low ceiling covered only one room, mostly filled with Takua’s bed, and a small sink. A series of shelves and bookcases lined the walls, housing a large collection of tiny trinkets, cheap baubles, and other items that many Matoran would consider to be, quite simply, junk.

 

It wasn’t much, but to Takua, a young Le-Matoran just getting used to living on his own, it was everything he wanted in a home.

 

The clock on his nightstand read nine in the morning, but if one were to ask any passerby on the streets of Le-Koro, they could easily learn that — despite his upbringing in the house of Turaga Matau — Takua was known for being the town’s slacker. And that he had a tendency to sleep very, very late.

 

Knock knock knock!

 

The rapping at his door was loud and sudden, and the almost-back-asleep Takua jolted upward, knocking his mask on the low shelf above his bed.

 

“Aw, Mata Nui!" he cursed. But still, the knocking persisted. “Okay, okay… I’m up,” he swiveled his legs off the mattress, sitting for a few dazed, bleary seconds before forcing himself to his feet. He rubbed his forehead, focusing his eyes. “Who’s there?”

 

“It’s Jaka,” came the voice from behind his door. “Will you let me in? It's wet out here.”

 

Still holding the top his head, Takua grabbed the doorknob and pulled, revealing his friend in soaking wet armor. Takua stared at him, lime-green eyes blinking, not understanding what was happening yet. It was a moment before he spoke.

 

“Why… so early?”

 

“Did you forget? Today’s the day!” Jaka stepped inside, as if that explained everything. He grabbed the towel Takua kept hanging on the back of his door, patting his Kakama dry before looking back to his friend. He was met with a blank, groggy stare, and so Jaka went on. “The Spring Solstice?”

 

“Uh… yeah. That’s today, what about it?”

 

Jaka looked at him, his brow furrowing. “... All you can eat for five Widgets? Down at the Twisted Nail?”

 

“Ah! Mata Nui!” Takua jumped up, coming alive at the thought of breakfast. He washed his Pakari in the grimy sink, making himself almost presentable. “Is Talim working?” he asked.

 

“I don’t know, probably?” Jaka tapped his foot impatiently. “Does it matter? Hurry up or we're going to miss it!”

 

“Yeah, yeah.”

 

Takua rummaged through his nightstand, grabbing a handful of Widgets before following Jaka out, shutting the door behind them. And the two began to make their way to the town square.

 

The two friends both lived in southern Le-Koro, the older, more-affordable district of town. Sitting on the southwestern edge of Lake Kanae, it was known for its traditionalism, where many still chose to honor the old way of living. The pair moved along its dirt roads, weaving their way through the great trees, passing huts and homes built both within and upon their great, ancient branches. To an outsider, southern Le-Koro might seem rural, or even primitive, but Takua and Jaka knew where to find the bridges, vines, and platforms that their friends and neighbors lived upon. With the right eye, it was easy to see that the City of Air was anything but rural.

 

Their path took them to the edge of the lake, and across a wide, wooden bridge that spanned the river escaping it. Their boots clomped on the wet wood before hitting dirt on the other side, and they had entered Le-Koro proper, the richest and most influential of the city’s districts. The streets here were obvious. Straight, well-paved, and defined on both sides by closely huddled buildings, it took them only a few minutes to arrive, moving briskly down a hill as the village’s center came into view.

 

Takua mumbled at the amount of Matoran present. “It’s busy. Already.”

 

Jaka grunted, and Takua knew he’d refrained from commenting on his sleeping habits.

 

Everything that happened in Le-Koro happened here, in this cobblestone square, surrounded by tall buildings and even taller trees. Platforms and bridges were scattered throughout the thick branches, lending a level of verticality to the space — the most notable among them being Turaga Matau’s house, nestled a few stories up in the far corner. But the vast majority of business took place on the ground, where the marketplace and various official buildings sat, all surrounding an open space with a small fountain at its center, shaped like a Suva.

 

Takua glanced at the fountain as they approached — he’d heard a rumor about it, once, when he was little. An urban legend, saying the fountain was actually Le-Suva, the mythical shrine that, ages ago, held the great Toa Lewa’s Kanohi masks. The dome-shaped stone gave the Toa of Air access to all kinds of powers, helping him and the other Toa to fight Rahi, Bohrok, and Rahkshi, defeating Makuta and awakening Mata Nui after a long, magnificent, and glorious battle. But Takua shook his head, pulling himself back to the world at hand. It was only an urban legend, after all.

 

It was here, as they passed the open space beyond the fountain, that the Twisted Nail sat — a run-down, but well-known and well-loved tavern on the corner opposite the Turaga’s home. Its paint was peeling, and its door creaked as they entered, but instantly the quiet, wet, rainy morning was replaced with warm firelight and friendly chatter — the result of many starting their holiday with a hearty breakfast, and a heartier drink. 

 

It took Takua a second to scan the crowded room, his mask lighting up as he found a young girl about his age, carrying a large tray of food upon her arm.

 

“Hey, Talim!” he called out, waving to catch her attention.

 

She looked up confused, but a smile spread across her mask as she recognized him. “Takua!” she chimed as she set down her tray at a table, placing dishes in front of hungry Matoran. Takua and Jaka approached just as she had finished, and she turned her attention to the two friends, wiping a thin layer of sweat from her brow. “Got up early this morning, did you?”

 

“Yeah… only because I was his wake-up call,” Jaka replied before Takua had the chance. He rolled his shoulders. “As always."

 

"Aw," Talim smiled, glancing from him to Takua, then back again.  "Where would he be without you, Jaka?" she replied, only half-joking.

 

"Still in bed, probably.”

 

“Hey,” Takua interjected, crossing his arms. “I would’ve made it one way or another. I’m… very passionate about affordable breakfast.”

 

“Yeah?” Talim laughed. She moved seamlessly to the next table, this time unloading drinks to another eager group of customers. “You know, Takua, a lot of things are more affordable if you have a job.”

 

Takua followed her from a distance, careful to keep the conversation going while giving her enough space to work. “Oh, you didn’t hear?” he replied, a smug look on his face. “I do have a job.”

 

Talim raised an eyebrow, intrigued, but skeptical. “Really?”

 

“Oh no…” Jaka put a hand on his mask. “Don’t tell me Raipu hired you again.”

 

And Takua looked back at his friend, his expression asking why he always had to be like this. “I’m a great employee.”

 

“That construction site? Again?” Talim snickered. “I’m sure you are, Takua… whenever you decide to show up at least,” she said with a smirk, pushing past him, heading for the tavern’s kitchen. “Well, go on, find a seat. I’ll be right there,” she called back, already grabbing more plates, already serving more, hungry Matoran.

 

Takua and Jaka moved to an empty booth in the far corner — one of the only open spots in the place — and sat down. With his back to the wall, Takua surveyed the busy room, plopping his elbows on the sturdy wooden table, before looking back to see Jaka, giving him a very unique, very quizzical look.

 

“…What?”

 

Jaka flicked his eyes back and forth between Takua and the space behind him, where Talim was busy working.

 

Takua shrugged, repeating himself. “Um… what?”

 

Jaka rolled his eyes. “You,” he said, then nodded his head in Talim’s direction. “…And her.”

 

“Oh, come on!” Takua replied.

 

“She’s only mean to people she likes. Don’t deny it.”

 

“We’re just friends.”

 

Jaka snorted.

 

Talim soon came over to take their orders, and the two made the most of the all-you-can-eat special. There were meats, eggs, hearty soup, cold water and warm tea. Sausages, potatoes, roast vegetables and fruitcake. Freshly baked apple pie and bread with butter and jam. Tankards of the Twisted Nail’s specialty brew: sweet with fruit, yet heavy with hops. Anything and everything was sampled, the only exception being the house salad — both Takua and Jaka didn’t quite have the taste for greens.

 

Jaka licked his fingers, grinning to himself after his fourth course of toast. “I love jam.”

 

Ditching his mug of tea for a tankard of brew, Takua’s confidence soon got the better of him. After a bit of scheming, watching, and quick hands, Talim — ever observant as she was — soon took it upon herself to scold Takua for hiding plates under the table. But, with a wink and a smile, she kept the matter between them, and even managed to slip Takua a carry-out box when the other servers weren’t looking.

 

Takua scooped his pie into the box, smirking at Jaka, who was rolling his eyes again, embarrassed to be associated with him. But the moment Talim walked away, Jaka looked back to his friend, this time sporting his own smug grin.

 

“I’m telling you,” he leaned back in his bench, resting a hand on his full belly, nodding to Takua’s carton. “She wouldn’t do that for anyone.”

 

And It was Takua’s turn to roll his eyes. “Whatever you say, Jaka.”

 

Takua was, at least in appearance, an attractive Matoran, though not the tall, strong, and broad type one would expect. He was slim, of average height, and the mixed green and black of his armor suggested some Onu-Matoran descent — though no one really knew his roots. His jet-black Pakari fit him well, despite having it his whole life, and he carried himself with good posture and pride. He seemed to have a way of catching his peer’s attention, although their interest tended to fade as they recognized him, knowing that in the end, he was Takua — and not much good would come out of him.

 

Jaka, on the other hand, was not quite as much of a slacker, or a troublemaker, as Takua. He was empathetic, down to earth, and therefore had much less of an ego. He was slightly shorter, slightly heavier, and was a deeper, more forested green than Takua. Hints of amber suggested Ta-Matoran blood somewhere along the way, though it was unknown to him. He wore a Kakama and had kind, patient, forest green eyes — the sort that were always there for you, but didn’t inspire any kind of mystery. Unlike Takua, he didn’t ever seem to catch anyone’s attention — but that was often the way he liked it.

 

All in all — as Talim liked to point out whenever they were together — the two friends made an interesting pair.

 

After their hearty breakfast they sat around, chatting with other Matoran at the Twisted Nail, hanging out and happily wasting the morning away, until the door opened one last time before the five-Widget special ended. An older figure walked in, wearing a tunic and carrying a staff with an ancient, decorative saw on one end. Everyone knew him, for he was their Turaga — the kind, loving, and noble leader of Le-Koro, with a friendly face who had guided their village for generations: Turaga Matau.

 

As heads turned, slowly realizing who had arrived, the Turaga shuffled his way to a small stage at one end of the tavern. Smiling and waving along the way, he quickly stepped up to the platform, pausing for a moment as he took in his surroundings. And with one, two, three raps of his staff against the hard wood floor, he announced his presence, kindly requesting everyone’s attention.

 

Takua looked up as the tavern grew quiet, all eyes now pausing on the Turaga, hesitantly, eagerly, awaiting his words. But Takua was the odd one out, instead choosing to sink low in his chair.

 

The Turaga cleared his throat. “Citizens and friends of Le-Koro,” he announced, his voice old, scratchy, yet full of life. “I realize that I should have picked a more public spot if I wanted to talk to the entire population…” he paused, looking out to the back of the room, where even the cooks had paused their work. “…But then again, this always was my favorite restaurant.”

 

A short cheer erupted from the kitchen staff behind the bar.

 

The Turaga smiled. “I come here today, to celebrate this Spring Solstice, and to wish you all another grand year. May the earth give you her fruit, may the sky give you her breath, and may the water give you her blessing.”

 

Another round of cheers went around the room.

 

“Also! I wish to honor someone here today. I wish to recognize someone I know… someone special.”

 

“Oh no,” Takua whispered to himself, averting his gaze as the Turaga’s eyes drifted around the room, before finally finding him and locking on, even as Takua stared at the floor. He sank lower in the booth.

 

The Turaga went on. “Although he can be unorthodox at times, and some may even look down upon him, he is one that I hold dear.” He said affectionately before he paused, and all eyes followed his gaze, each Matoran looking around, until the entire tavern's attention fell on Takua, who was now trying his best to become liquid, and melt into his seat.

 

All was silent for a few, long, terrible seconds as Takua refused to take the hint. He sank lower and lower, flushing red behind his mask, his chin against his chest as he stared at the table in front of him, unblinking as he avoided everything.

 

Across the room, someone coughed. A metal fork clinked against a plate.

 

Matau sighed, finally breaking the silence. “Takua, will you please come up?”

 

And Takua squeezed his eyes shut, allowing himself a quick grimace as he got up from his chair.

 

“Takua, yeah!”

 

“Hey, there he is!”

 

Cheers erupted from a few people and Takua managed to crack an awkward smile. He made his way through the tables and stepped onto the stage as Matau put a light arm around his shoulders.

 

"You're so embarrassing," Takua whispered in the Turaga’s ear, faking a smile towards the crowd. “How’d you know I’d be here?”

 

"I had Jaka bring you of course,” Matau grinned. “And stop being so shy, everyone here is a friend, you know that."

 

Takua shot a glare across the room at Jaka, who was chortling into his drink.

 

“As you may know,” the Turaga continued with his speech. “Takua was brought into my care when he was found alone in the woods, by a little girl named Talim. In fact, I believe she is here today. Are you here Talim?”

 

She stood up and took a bow from the opposite end of the room. A few hoots and cheers came out for her.

 

“Ah, yes, there she is, now a beautiful young Matoran, of course.” He turned back to Takua. “Anyway, I adopted this young one, and taught him the ways of the world, until he was old enough to go out on his own. And while I may be biased, I believe he has grown into a fine Matoran. I feel it is finally time for me to give him my blessing,” he paused, his mask beaming. “Anything to say, Takua?”

 

“Uhh…” Takua blinked, staring out at the dozens of people, trying to force his brain to work. He gulped. “…Thanks.”

 

A chuckle spread across the crowd.

 

“So be it!” Matau grinned again. “And so, I give Takua a gift today, one that has been in my possession for a long time, after an old friend entrusted me to keep it safe.”

 

And Matau pulled from his pocket a black jewel, cut so it had six long sides, each ending in a sharp point on opposite ends. It was attached to a thin silver chain, which he unlatched as he held it out for Takua to see. Knotted vines were etched into the metal where the stone met the chain — a remarkable piece of craftsmanship, with intricate, ornate detail.

 

The Turaga spoke so the crowd could hear, but he turned to face Takua, showing that these words were meant for him. “The knots represent my blessing and love; the ties of unity, of family, be it though blood or simple circumstance. The chain represents strength; how you must use it and protect those you care about, as is your duty. And finally, the stone represents eternity; though one day we all must leave this world, our memory, our actions, and our destiny remain — written in our own little space among the stars.”

 

Takua looked up, reading the Turaga’s mask — the being who had raised him — and he realized that behind his smile, behind this joyous blessing, there was… something else. Matau’s eyes shone brighter in the torchlight, a mixture of pride and… maybe sadness. Something, that told Takua Matau had thought about this for a long time. And, now that Takua was aware of it, he... still didn’t know what to say.

 

“And so, I bless you, in the name of Mata Nui, and in the name of our great three virtues. I bless you, Takua, with Unity, Duty… and Destiny.”

 

Cheers erupted from all corners of the room, and Takua stood there, suddenly warm in his chest. Even though he could be a misfit, he was still loved by all the commoners of this dirty, grimy tavern called the Twisted Nail. People began to clap, bang on tables and clink their tankards together, all in the name of Takua.

 

He swallowed as he looked at Matau, honored, but still a bit confused. “Turaga… I don’t deserve this.”

 

“Go ahead, put it on,” Matau insisted, a big grin on his face as he held out the necklace.

 

The silver chain passed into Takua’s hands, and he let it slide through his fingers, feeling its smooth, cold texture, watching as it twinkled in the firelight. Then, cautiously, he placed the chain around his neck, and took the jewel in his hands. The cheers continued, and he couldn’t help but crack a smile. He gazed at the black stone, faintly gleaming in the firelight. Slowly, carefully — he brushed his finger against it.

 

And all sound was suddenly gone.

 

Everything faded from Takua’s head, and the earth, the air, the very world around him was still. Sharp. Focused, on the stone. That cold, black, eternal stone.

 

He heard a heartbeat, followed by a dying whisper.

 

Thump-thp.

He’s here….

 

Takua’s vision flickered, and there he was again, standing with Turaga Matau in the Twisted Nail. Everyone cheered for him, the world around him suddenly back to normal. That brief second of… whatever that had been — was gone.

 

What…? He thought for only a moment. But then Matau was moving again.

 

“Come!” The Turaga boomed over the noise. “Let us celebrate this wonderful holiday! Drinks are on me today!” And the cheers grew even louder as he patted Takua on the back. “Go have fun with your friends, my boy. I’ll be around, if you need me.”

 

Takua wiped the puzzled look from his face. “Thank you… Turaga.”

 

And with the stone hanging from his neck, he stepped off the platform, making his way through the tables, and sat back down at his booth.

Edited May 13 by ZOMBI3S

[ZOMBI3S]

Chapter 2 - The Tale of Atouri

 

“Congrats,” Jaka pounded fists with Takua. “Matau’s blessing. I’m jealous.” 

 

Takua smirked. “Yeah, whatever,” he replied cockily, trying to hide the fact that he didn’t really know what to do now. He contemplated for a second what had happened up on stage, but as he brushed his fingers against the stone again, nothing happened. And so he chalked it up his lingering headache, still resounding from when he’d knocked his head that morning.

 

But in a minute Talim appeared, carrying two massive tankards the Twisted Nail’s signature brew. With a thump she placed them in front of the two friends. “Enjoy, boys. It’s on the Turaga.”

 

“Hey,” Takua grabbed her hand as she started to turn away, surprising even himself with the sudden movement. His brain stumbled, realizing that yes, he was holding her hand, but he quickly recovered and looked her in the mask. “When do you get off?”

 

Talim didn’t seemed phased by the interaction. “At six, why?” 

 

Takua swallowed. “…You think you might want to do something later?”

 

She glanced at their hands for a moment, the corners of her mouth turning up before meeting his gaze, responding with a flattered smile. “…I’d love to.”

 

And she turned away, breaking contact as she went back to work. Takua briefly watched her walk before turning to the tankard in front of him, actively ignoring Jaka’s burrowing gaze.

 

His friend had the courtesy to wait until Talim was out of earshot before snorting. “Just friends?”

 

Takua took a long drag from his tankard. “Shut up.”

 

It wasn't unusual for the Twisted Nail to have musicians and storytellers come in, but today was the Spring Solstice, and never once was there a period of time when someone wasn't on stage. By the time Takua and Jaka had finished their drinks, an old Matoran was the center of attention, sitting on a stool and telling stories to a small crowd that had gathered around him. The Matoran wore lime armor that matched his Ruru, and if no one knew him personally, they certainly knew of him — he was a storyteller, supposedly the greatest in all of Le-Koro. But, he was known to be a loner, and an eccentric one at that. Whether a hermit or a traveler, he always seemed to appear wherever stories needed to be told, and then disappear once they were finished. No one even knew his real name, as he introduced himself merely by his occupation — as ‘The Storyteller.’

 

Takua and Jaka were on their way to the door, when Takua noticed the Matoran and had to pause. 

 

Jaka sensed his intentions. "Come on, Takua," Jaka urged him, eager to get out and do something with the rest of their holiday. 

 

But Takua waved him off. "This guy's supposed to be the best. Just one story," he insisted, and Jaka was forced to follow as Takua joined the crowd. They sat down next to a group of children, all eagerly waiting for the old one to begin. Takua felt a finger poke him in the arm, and he looked at the small boy who sat next to him.

 

“Are you too big for stories?” the boy asked.

 

Takua shot him a glare. “Don’t judge me.”

 

The old Matoran cleared his throat as the crowd in front of him quieted. "Now… I shall tell you a story not very well-known among Matoran." His voice was old and deep, but it had power to it. It hinted at knowledge, of wisdom gained from countless years upon the earth. Of things forgotten by the rest of world. "It is… a sad story, but one that bears great importance among the ancient tales. A story of Mata Nui and Makuta, and the many events that occurred between them, all because of one small girl." 

 

He paused, making eye contact with Takua, who broke it after a few uncomfortable seconds. The Storyteller began his tale.

 

"In the time before time, there was a beautiful young Matoran named Atouri. She was more beautiful than any other Matoran. Her smile made the sun come out, and her voice made the birds sing. Every day she would go down to the water, where there was an island just offshore, with a beautiful jewel on it. She wished she could have the treasure, but dared not to swim across the water, as the currents were strong, and she would surely drown. One day, as she was looking at the jewel, a snake slithered up beside her. 

 

'I will show you the way through the water, as I have crossed it many times,' the snake said.

 

Atouri agreed and followed the snake out into the water. But the snake was really Makuta in disguise, and Atouri could not keep up with him. The currents caught her, and she drowned.

 

Mata Nui confronted his brother about the issue.

 

'Why have you done this, my brother? Why did you trick Atouri?'

 

'I could not help it,' Makuta answered. 'It is my nature.'

 

Mata Nui was saddened, as Atouri was very beautiful, and her loss was a great one. He turned the water salty, as punishment for drowning Atouri. But that was not enough. So he bestowed his power on the jewel, and named it The Atouri, so the Matoran's legacy would go on. Anyone who held the jewel would see the true beauty of the world, and they would always be happy. 

 

'But you must not touch the jewel, my brother.' Mata Nui told Makuta. 'That is your punishment. Never will you see true beauty, and never will you be happy.'

 

Makuta was angered, even enraged that his brother would curse him for his very nature. He stole the jewel, but it did not give him happiness. Nothing gave him happiness. So Makuta poured all his anger and malice into the jewel, until its color turned to black, and its shine faded and it became a lesser stone. He poured his very heart into the stone, so Mata Nui would know what he had caused.

 

But Makuta had not thought his plan through. Mata Nui had tricked Makuta, so that whoever now held the jewel, also held Makuta's heart, and if the jewel was ever destroyed, Makuta would be also.

 

Naturally, Makuta placed spells over the stone so that it could only be destroyed by beings of light more powerful than himself. In a world of lesser beings, Makuta realized he now had nothing to fear, and he began to use the stone as a strength. He placed the Atouri among the Matoran, and began to infect their hearts and minds from within their own villages. Makuta spread his darkness all over the earth from within his heart, until he was confronted by his brother again. 

 

'You have ruined Atouri's legacy with your darkness, brother. This is not what I wanted for her.' 

 

Makuta sneered at his brother, for his eyes had been clouded by his own darkness, and he could no longer see the truth. 'You have caused this, for it is you who condemned me to my fate.' 

 

Wordless, Mata Nui took the stone and cast it away, forever hiding it from him. Makuta was greatly weakened by the act, for he was now more a part of the Atouri than he was himself.

 

Makuta raged violently, and swore that if he ever found the stone again he would release his wrath upon the world, so much that not even Mata Nui would survive. He struck at everything around him until he was exhausted, for this was the first pain he had ever felt. He felt hollow. He felt like dying, but death would never come. He cried out to his brother one last time.

 

'You would choose to save the Matoran at the cost of your own brother?' 

 

Mata Nui called back, 'I could not help it, it is my nature.'"

 

The Storyteller bowed his head, finishing the story as the crowd applauded. Takua leaned back, pondering the tale. He always seemed to save the rare and interesting tales for holidays such as this, and so no one was remotely disappointed. The clapping went on and the Storyteller stood, bowing as he glanced at Takua, once again making eye contact.

 

Takua broke it immediately, looking to the ground as he clapped. People started to stand up and go about their business. And Jaka’s elbow nudged him.

 

"Can we go now?" his Kakama asked. 

 

"Yes, we can,” Takua replied, humoring him. That wasn't so bad, now was it?"

 

"Whatever."

 

It was early afternoon now, and as Takua and Jaka headed for the door, it opened abruptly in front of them. In stepped Raipu, an acquaintance of theirs, or perhaps a distant friend. He was a Po-Matoran, whose tan Hau demanded authority, even though he was only a few years older than Takua. He spent the spring and summer in Le-Koro, bringing his talents from the City of Stone as a construction manager, traveling north to see Po-Koro in the fall and winter.

 

His mask seemed disappointed, but not at all surprised to see Takua. His broad shoulders squared with the Le-Matoran’s, quietly looking him up and down before speaking. “You were supposed to work today, Takua,” he said stoically.

 

Takua cocked his head. They were the same height, but Raipu’s distinctively Po-Matoran build was enough to make Takua feel he was always looking up at him. “Uh… but it’s the Spring Solstice,” he scratched the back of his head. “It’s a holiday.” 

 

“Yes… Raipu rubbed the edge of his mask, already tired, already smelling of sawdust and mortar. “We work half-days on holidays. You’d know this… if you showed up to the weekly meetings.”

 

“Oh,” Takua grimaced, looking to Jaka for some kind of help, but his friend offered nothing. “Um… I’ll be there tomorrow! Or, no. The day after tomorrow. Whenever I work next! I’ll be there early. I promise!”

 

Raipu shook his head, clearly not wanting to deal with this right now. “Okay, just… please be there? I can’t keep doing this, Takua.”

 

“Don’t worry, I will!” Takua said before glancing over at the clock on the wall. “But hey, look at the time! I’ve really got to go, good to see you, Raipu! Happy Solstice!” And he slipped through the door, narrowly avoiding Raipu’s shoulder, not to mention his responsibilities. Jaka took a second to realize what had happened, then awkwardly bade farewell and followed. 

 

The rain had stopped, and so the two spent the rest of the day walking around town, watching shows dedicated to the solstice, and taking advantage of discounted food or free samples of candied pineapple on a stick. Time flew by, as it always seemed to on holidays, and as the afternoon waned, people had started to gather in the town square for the annual parade and fireworks that would start later that evening.

 

Takua and Jaka chose a good place to sit and watch the festivities, deciding after a bit of deliberation on the overhanging roof of Boro’s Bakery, a small shop just a few buildings down from the Twisted Nail. It was comfortable enough, and they could see over everyone on the ground. So, assuming it didn’t collapse — and Boro remained out in the street, hawking his desserts — it was the perfect spot. Soon enough, the clocktower sounded from the corner of the square, ringing out six times with its deep, booming note, letting everyone know that the festivities would soon begin.

 

They’d just gotten comfortable when the bonging reached them, triggering Takua’s mind. 

 

Talim! She gets off at six!

 

And, heart racing, he handed his candied pineapple to Jaka, jumping down to the cobblestone below without explanation.

 

“Where are you going?” Jaka called out, startled, but not complaining about the extra snack. “You’re going to lose your spot if you’re not back when the fireworks start.”

 

“I almost forgot! I was supposed to meet Talim!” Takua called over his shoulder as he pushed his way through the growing crowd. “Sorry, I might be back, I might not!” He moved through the many Matoran, weaving his way out of the square.

 

“She isn’t meeting you here?” Jaka called after him.

 

But Takua couldn’t hear him anymore. He was well on his way to Talim’s house, which sat on the outskirts of town. He knew Talim wasn’t one for big crowds, and he knew the first place she always went after work — no matter what else was going on — was home.

 

In a moment Takua had disappeared among the many faces, and Jaka sighed to himself. “What am I going to do with him?” he said to his pineapple, before shrugging, and happily devouring it.

Edited May 13 by ZOMBI3S

[ZOMBI3S]

Chapter 3 - The Stars Above

 

Takua walked the dirt path in silence, brushing a hand against the golden, rippling stalks of grass. He’d been here many times, in the cliffs north of town, but there was something different about tonight. Something about the colors that streaked across the sky, the way the light glinted off the grey stones… Takua decided it was the holiday. It was the excitement of the town, the impending festivities that made him appreciate the beauty. He drew a deep breath, exhaling the cool evening air. Perhaps it didn’t matter — it was okay to simply enjoy the beauty.

 

Talim lived in the outskirts, halfway up the cliffs, overlooking Le-Koro’s square and the jungle surrounding it. Her wooden walls and thatched roof came into view as Takua rounded a rocky edifice, the humble dwelling partially dug into the steep hillside. Takua approached her signature maroon door, feeling confident, and maybe a little nervous. But mostly confident. Nervous and confident at the same time. Did that make sense? He shook his head, pushing his thoughts away, deciding it was better to just reach out and knock on the door.

 

Almost instantly, Talim opened it, revealing her dark green Huna, glinting slightly in the sunlight. “You’re late.”

 

“Well, yeah,” Takua played it cool. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but there’s festivities going on in town. I thought about ignoring you and staying there, but… it was boring. So I figured I had nothing better to do.” 

 

“Right,” she rolled her eyes, smiling as she opened the door. “Well come on; get in here before it gets dark.” Takua stepped through the door and into Talim’s well-furnished living room. “Have you eaten yet?” she asked, walking toward the kitchen.

 

Takua shrugged. “I had candied pineapple on a stick?”

 

“Good. I made Fikou stew.” 

 

She poured two bowls and they sat in her kitchen and ate. Takua — always with the insatiable appetite — slurped his bowl as they talked, telling her about all the ridiculous things he had gotten into in the past week, and she listened intently, laughing, judging, and taking half of them with a grain of salt, as she probably ought to. Their bowls were soon empty, but the conversation continued.

 

Talim was saving up for a calligraphy set, as she wanted to write one day. And Takua was saving up for… some reason. He didn’t know, but Talim was determined to help figure out what. They talked about the town, their lives, mutual friends and more about Takua’s antics. The evening wore on, and they continued enjoying each other’s company, oblivious to the outside world until the stars lit up the sky.

 

“…So yeah. Shu won that bet, and I learned that you should never try to wrestle a Takea shark.” Takua concluded his story. “But if we’re really thinking about it, I’m the real winner. Because… knowledge is more valuable than any number of Widgets.”

 

Talim snorted, almost spewing a mouthful of stew over the table. But she recovered, swallowing enough to let out an airy laugh at Takua’s expense.

 

“Well,” Takua crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. “Good to know you it hilarious that I almost drowned.”

 

“You’re a moron,” she said, touching him on the arm as she regained her composure. “Why? Why would that ever be a good idea? For twenty Widgets?”

 

Takua frowned. “Twenty-five.”

 

“That doesn’t make it better!”

 

But the crack of distant fireworks sounded through the open window, and Takua jumped up, torn away from the table. “…Fireworks!” He let out, absent-mindedly grabbing Talim’s hand, forcing her up as he moved. “Come on, we can’t miss these!”

 

And in a second they were outside the maroon door, staring up to the starry sky. The night lit up with a huge flash of red, sparkling away just in time to allow another explosion of color — blue, and crackling with sound. The two stared in awe, the flashes imprinted upon their minds, in sharp contrast against the inky black of night. Flash after flash of yellow, green, then orange and purple exploded before them, one after the other as the show unfolded.

 

How long it lasted, neither could be sure. But unmoving within the swaying grass, they watched it all as the jungle lit up with color, the trees waving in the wind, wisps of smoke trailing above the treetops. Boom after boom they watched, wordless as the light crackled away. And then, after a while, there was a pause. A single moment of solitude as night crept back in, the jungle quieting, ever-so-slightly.

 

Suddenly there were many colors at once, exploding in a great finale of sparkling flames. Different types of fireworks went off, from huge spiders to crackling rockets, great flashes and singular bangs and booms. Each one was different in its own way, bright as the sun itself, if only for a second. Explosion after explosion went off before the couple, who witnessed it all from their secluded hillside, eyes glimmering in the dark. 

 

And then the finale ended, leaving the night just as quiet and peaceful as before. An onlooker wouldn’t even know what had happened, if it weren’t for the imprints of smoke, stamped against the sky. But Talim and Takua continued to look out over the jungle, still in awe of the colorful lights, still feeling the energy of the celebration. Eyes wide, hearts fluttering, it took time for them to come down, still holding the other’s hand as they came back to reality, as darkness returned, and both of them realized they were still present. 

 

“…What are you doing here, Takua?”

 

Her voice broke the silence, finally tearing Takua’s attention away from the sky. He turned to her, not entirely sure if he’d heard right. “Huh?” It was all he could manage. 

 

“You weren’t meant for a life here, I know that,” she looked down, refusing to let go of his hand. “You… you should be traveling the island, living your life. Having adventures,” she paused, swallowing as her eyes moved to the trailing wisps of smoke. Her voice was quiet... sad, maybe? “I know you’re bored here. I know you want something more out of life.”

 

“Well…” Takua trailed off. He had always known, deep down, that it was true. He wanted to go visit new places, meet new people, and explore the world on his own. But on the other hand, he had a home here. He’d never made any plans, let alone seriously thought about leaving. How could he, when Le-Koro had given him so much? “…I’m happy here. Why would I leave?” 

 

“I just…” Talim stopped for a second, thinking of what to say. “I don’t want to keep you from your dreams.”

 

“My dreams are wherever you are, Talim,” he replied, the words slipping out of his mouth before he even realized what he was saying, and immediately, he bit his tongue. That was stupid. So corny. 

 

But Talim didn’t make fun of him. Instead, she smiled and looked down, a hint of blush showing under her mask. “…Okay,” she answered, almost in a whisper. She cleared her throat, and rolled her shoulders, looking back to him as she found her voice. “…You should come over more often. I had fun.”

 

“Anytime,” Takua said, still embarrassed from what he’d said. But, trying to make up for himself, he bent down, picking up a small orange flower from the grasses and handed it to her. “For you.” 

 

She blushed again and placed it behind her ear. “Aw, how does it look?” 

 

“Like garbage.”

 

Talim rolled her eyes and gave him a playful shove before turning around and walking back to her house. “You’re terrible. I’m going to bed.” 

 

“I’m just playing. It looks nice.”

 

“Of course it does. It’s me.”

 

And there was a pause in their conversation, just long enough for both of them to feel it. Talim stood in her open doorway, her eyes meeting Takua's, and the two were still, silent as the seconds ticked by, looking at each other.

 

“Well… good night,” Takua said quietly. 

 

“Good night, Takua.” Talim slowly shut the door, its hinges creaking until the doorknob clicked shut, leaving him alone in the night, on the other side of the maroon paint. 

 

Takua breathed a heavy sigh, staring at the grain of the wood, his eyes tracing the intricate carvings around its edge, and he blinked. He swallowed, turned, and started his way home.

 

His footsteps quiet in the dirt, he thought of her as he walked, unable to shake her from his mind. They’d been friends for as long as he could remember, and it seemed only recently that things had started to change. What was it? Never before had she been in his head like this; maybe it was just a part of getting older? Takua kicked a rock, confused about his feelings, deciding instead to reminisce about their first meeting.

 

His very first memory; they’d been children when she found him in that clearing, brought Matau over, and given him his name. Takua… after the great Toa of Light, she’d suggested. Takua smirked. As if he’d ever be anything like a Toa.

 

Come to think of it, Takua’s sudden appearance in Le-Koro was strange, and no one could really explain it. But then again, stranger things have happened, and eventually all things were forgotten. Takua was accepted into the village like anyone else, spending his first days in the Turaga’s house, where he learned about everything on Mata Nui. Days turned to months, then to years, and as soon as he was old enough, Takua had set out to find his own way in the world.

 

And now he lived in his very own shack. Takua shrugged as he entered a thicket of trees. Good times. 

 

The path Takua walked was frequented by merchants and travelers, often coming in from smaller, remote villages out in the jungle. So it wasn't too far-fetched that he wouldn't be the only one using it that night. But still, as he walked under the dark canopy, an unexpected sound began to make its way to his ears. 

 

Bum de dum, doo doo dee,

Everything, he does see.

 

The singing brought Takua back from his thoughts. He looked up to see an old Matoran walking along the path toward him, wearing dark yellow armor, muddied and scratched from days of travel. A knotted walking staff supported his gait, thumping against the dirt in tune with his steps. 

 

Over the great ocean blue,

Mata Nui watches you.

 

Takua passed the old one without a second thought, but the moment he did the strange Matoran turned heel, choosing to follow Takua by a little more than two steps, all while continuing to sing. Unnerved, Takua glanced over his shoulder and sped up his pace, trying to lose him. But the Matoran sped up as well, staying just a step behind as Takua powerwalked, faster and faster until he was practically running. And the old one, even with his shuffling gait and walking stick — kept up. 

 

Finally, Takua stopped in his tracks, turning around in annoyance. The Matoran to bumped into him, stumbling as Takua raised his chin and clenched his jaw. “Can I help you?” he asserted. 

 

The Matoran’s Hau cracked into a smile. “Ah, can I quick-help you?” He replied, talking in tree-speak, a dialect only used nowadays by those who lived far, far out in the jungle

 

“No, I don’t think you can,” Takua said, crossing his arms. “You see, I want to walk home in peace.”

 

“Wrong answer!” he belted, and the knotted end of his staff rapped Takua on the mask.

 

“Ow!” Takua yelped, jumping back as he clutched his forehead, taken aback by his audacity. “…Who even are you?”

 

“Who are you, windsprinter?” 

 

“Me? I’m Takua,” he replied, his patience waning. “Now what do you want?” 

 

The old one’s eyes widened and he started to laugh. “Woo hoo, ha ha! Takua! Hee hee hee!” Suddenly he stopped, and his face was serious. “You need-seek help, youngling!” He poked Takua in the chest multiple times to emphasize his point.

 

Takua paused, blinking, trying to make sense of this strange person before letting out a sigh. “…Okay.” If he wouldn’t go away, Takua might as well play the game. “…Where can I find help?” 

 

The old one whirled around, sliding his arm across Takua’s shoulders, motioning to the sky with his other hand. “Look to the stars!” He spread his palm out and moved it across the night sky, as if washing an invisible window.

 

Takua humored him, looking up through a break in the leaves, taking in the thousands of points of light. Painted in brushstrokes across the infinite sky, the Red Star shone out among them all, larger and brighter as it twinkled in the east. They were quiet for a minute or two, until Takua took another breath.

 

“So… what am I looking for?” 

 

“The stars!”

 

They stared for a few moments more, until Takua broke the silence again. “Yeah… am I supposed to see something besides stars? Because I don’t.” 

 

“That is because you are not looking, baldwalker!” And the old one rapped Takua on the head once more.

 

“Ow! Hey!” Takua snapped. “Would you stop that!?”

 

“Will you stop it!?”

 

Takua blinked. “Don’t copy me.” 

 

“Who?”

 

“You!”

 

“Shh! Listen!” The old one whispered. “The quiet! It share-gives advice!”

 

Takua rolled his eyes, having had quite enough of this. The Matoran was clearly insane, and he had a bed at home that called his name. “That’s… very nice. I hope you have a good night.”

 

He turned to walk away, but felt a hand on his shoulder, as if asking him to listen to one last crazy statement. Sighing, Takua turned to look at the Matoran, and found deep blue eyes staring through the Hau. Gone was the crazy and spontaneous feel, replaced with the eyes of a very old being — thoughtful, wise, and full of knowledge. They stared intently, as if searching inside Takua for some treasure, some unknown jewel hidden in the body of the young Le-Matoran. Finally, the old one’s mouth opened to speak.

 

“The stars will guide you.” 

 

Takua nodded, sparing a polite half-smile before turning to walk away. He felt the hand slip off his shoulder and he knew he wasn’t being followed. Chancing one last look, he saw the old one standing where he'd left him, staring up into the night sky. Takua smiled to himself, shaking his head. 

 

Get home safe, old one.

 

The Matoran’s song started up again, lending the night a quiet hum as Takua walked. Slowly, he made his way home, the tune fading until he could barely hear it. It shriveled to a soft whisper, and Takua’s ears strained to catch the last few lines before the night gave way to silence. 

 

Wake and taste the morning dew,

Feel his nectar, surging through.

Bum de dum da dee dee doo,

The wonders of life, he gives to you.

Edited May 13 by ZOMBI3S

[ZOMBI3S]

Chapter 4 - Approaching Shadows

 

Turaga Matau gazed up at the trees, towering above him, as he would a mere firefly. The sun shone through the leaves, streaming white and green as a breeze rustled the long grass beneath his feet. The Le-Ko trade route ran just beside him, cutting its way through a small hill, leaving a wall of dirt on one side that rose to meet the natural landscape. The Turaga took in the lane around him, watching, listening, patiently waiting as he rested against his staff. He was expecting company.

 

Soon enough, the laughing of children reached his ears. The little ones who lived here, out on the outskirts and farms, had a reputation of chasing trade wagons, travelers, and whatever moved along the route, pestering them with questions about who they were, where they came from, and what the rest of the world was like. The happy, insistent chatter drew closer, and soon enough a cart, pulled by two Mahi, appeared through the foliage. A handful of little Matoran ran alongside it, asking the driver about his adventures outside Le-Koro, as expected. It was a simple, joyful sight.

 

The cart drew nearer, and the driver looked up from under his grey hood, revealing an off-white Akaku. His eyes met Matau’s, and his greeting was simple.

 

“Hail, Turaga.”

 

Upon seeing Matau, the children gasped, running off in separate ways, seemingly afraid he might tell their parents about their bothering. But Matau only smiled, granting a slight bow to the traveler, whose cart slowed to a gentle halt next to him.

 

“Care for a ride, old friend?”

 

“Ah, if you’re offering…” Matau, pulled himself up and onto the bench next to the traveler. “My legs have grown weary as of late, much to my displeasure. I have some advice, Kokani; don’t ever get old.”

 

Kokani answered with a slight upturn of his mouth. “I’ll try my best.”

 

“Good, good… very well,” Matau replied as Kokani whipped the reins, and the Mahi moved to pull them closer to town. “I see you decided to spend more than half a year up north. What held you?”

 

Kokani let out a subtle grunt before answering. He furrowed his brow, taking a moment before he answered. His words were short. “…All is not well.”

 

Matau nodded his head in agreement, confirming the Ko-Matoran’s statement. “People have come to me, bringing stories from villages far out in the jungle. Ambushes, stampedes, swarms — Rahi attacks have grown more frequent. And I fear they will only grow fiercer.”

 

“It’s not just Rahi,” Kokani said. “It’s the Kryll.”

 

 “…Kryll? A threat?”

 

Kokani started at Matau, clearly trying to hide his disbelief. “Have you not heard the stories?”

 

Matau shook his head, rolling his staff between his fingers. “Every day it seems we are more and more isolated from the rest of the Koro. Trade caravans barely stop in anymore, and when they do, the traders are stone-faced, shady, and bring armored guards with them. What have they been up to?”

 

Kokani went on. “You know how they’ve always been — quiet and skittish, maybe fighting within their tribes, but always shying away from Matoran villages. But all along the northern shores… travelers come back to the Koro saying they’ve been attacked, robbed, and left for dead in the wild. I’ve even heard a village west of Ga-Koro was burnt to the ground.” Kokani paused, his eyes cold, and fixed on the road. “Apparently the tribes have unified. They rally behind one leader now, a so-called ‘King of the Kryll.’”

 

Matau looked to the sky, or at least, what little sky was visible through the leaves. “Dark times creep upon us. I’ve been feeling it in my bones. For a long time now.”

 

Kokani wrapped his cloak tighter and looked around them — only the leaves moved as a slight breeze pushed past, and everything grew quiet, as if the jungle itself wanted to hear what the Ko-Matoran was about to say. “…Nuju has locked himself in his study. From what he sees so far, things will get worse. Far worse.”

 

“Speak.”

 

“Matoran, and even some Kryll in the east have appeared on our shores and docks. They stay for a couple days, only to move again, as if they are running from something — a power. Something is making itself known to this world that has been thought dead for an age. A shadow has been cast.”

 

Matau gripped his staff until his knuckles turned white. “It is as we feared.”

 

Kokani’s mask subtly nodded. “Some Matoran sense it, the Turaga’s spies have seen it. His symbol marks the charred trees of the Eastern Continent. He takes refuge there, and some say the Kryll of that land have pledged themselves to him. They have… a tower. Or a fortress. A massive, ancient structure, that they’ve taken over, and it now serves to built machines of war. Do you still have the stone?”

 

“I have given it to Takua.”

 

“…The boy?”

 

“I have not the strength for its burden… not anymore,” Matau took a deep breath, his chest nearly rattling as he exhaled, pain working its way into his brow. “Not after all this time.”

 

“Hmm,” Kokani let out, contemplating the Turaga’s decision before he truly responded. “Does he know? Does he… understand?”

 

“No.”

 

“He will have to know, Matau.”

 

“I know. And he will. I’ve simply… not gotten to it yet,” the Turaga cleared his throat, nodding to himself. “It will be safe with him. Far safer in his hands, than… if I were to still carry it.”

 

“And you trust him?”

 

Matau closed his eyes for a moment, secure, yet visibly pained as he spoke the words. “With all my heart.”

 

“Good,” Kokani frowned. “For Makuta will want it back.”

 

~~~

 

Takua awoke to warmth upon his mask, the sunlight streaming through the grimy glass of his window. He blinked, groggily opening his eyes, slowly realizing it had to be at least noon. Groaning, he felt guilt rise in his chest, disappointed he’d already wasted half the day. And so, quickly, he sat up — and knocked his head on the low shelf above him.

 

“Mata Nui!”

 

He let out a stream of curses as he grabbed his forehead, rubbing his mask before getting out of bed, and starting his daily routine. A quick rinse of his Pakari in the sink and he took a moment to stare at himself in the mirror, before noticing a pair of envelopes, partly shoved through the slot in his door.

 

Mail? He furrowed his brow, suspicious yet intrigued. Rare was the day that he received mail.

 

Wasting no time, he grabbed the envelopes, sitting back down on his bed as he used his finger to break their seals.

 

He quickly recognized the Builder’s Union logo on the front of the first envelope, which made him frown. The Builder’s Union meant Raipu, which meant work. Which was always unpleasant. He sighed, opening it up and scanning the parchment, seeing something about his poor attendance requiring him to show once in the next three days in order save himself from termination. Takua rolled his eyes and threw it over his shoulder. It had a lot of business-y words that he didn’t find important, but he understood the message.

 

The second letter was from Jaka, which was strange, considering that Jaka lived so close he usually knocked on the door if he needed something. Unfolding the envelope-less paper, his annoyance from the first letter was replaced with confusion.

 

Takua —

Meet me at town square. You didn’t answer when I knocked; not sure if you’re asleep or out. Would’ve waited, but I didn’t have time. There’s something wrong. Hurry.

Jaka

 

Takua took only a second to speculate before leaving.

 

He moved briskly toward inner Le-Koro, weaving his way through the trees, pushing past the wooden shops and homes that pocked the southern outskirts. They came in spurts — a handful of dwellings here, clustered around trunk of an elder tree, a network of buildings there, propped up in the branches and connected to the ground by ladders. The people of the outskirts prided themselves on traditionalism, living in and among the trees — the higher the better — while those of Le-Koro proper had long since found their place on the ground.

 

But still, everyone in the City of Air revered the trees, building and living among them, using the great trunks and branches as framework for their homes, only felling them when it was necessary to create a new patch of sunlight. These thoughts only briefly touched Takua’s mind as he moved, content to use the backwoods pathways he knew wouldn’t be crowded.

 

He’d just made it across the river and into Le-Koro proper when he turned into an alley, marked on one side by a short, rocky cliff, and by a series of compact, circular dwellings on the other. Many of Le-Koro’s merchants lived here, and with the market in full swing almost no one was home. The dark windows and lack of people allowed a silence to creep in, eerily settling behind every corner. And for a brief second, it caught Takua’s attention.

 

He was used to the call of birds, or at least the rustle of leaves — but today, it seemed all the sounds of nature had left. He turned a corner, his toe knocking against an unseen root, and before he realized it, he had landed with a thud on the hard-packed dirt, scraping his chin.

 

“Ow…” he grumbled, cursing his clumsiness. First his head, and now this? He pushed himself to his feet, brushing his armor off, taking a second to make sure no one had seen his misstep.

 

But someone stood in front of him.

 

Takua blinked, surprised at how quickly the figure had appeared. It was taller than a Matoran and wore black armor — almost like one from Onu-Wahi, but darker, if that was possible. A mask like a serpent's head rested upon the being’s face, one Takua had never seen before. And then, with an aggressive step forward, the being grabbed Takua by the arm and looked into his eyes.

 

“Can you feel his return?”

 

The deep voice reverberated in Takua’s head, chilling him to the bone. He fidgeted at the touch, but chose not to back away, instead meeting the being's orange gaze an alarmed confusion.

 

“...What?”

 

But the figure let go of him. There was a rustle of his black cloak, and just as quickly as he had come — he was gone.

 

Takua stood there, unmoving. He blinked again as he looked around, unsure of what had just happened. “...Hello?” he let out slowly, but no one answered, and so he tried again. “Hello!?” he called out, but the only reply was his echo, reverberating against the trees.

 

He took a moment, half-convinced he had made the whole thing up, before concluding he was alone. There was no one else in the hollow, dusty alley, and Takua shook his head, furrowing his brow as he moved once more.

 

“Takua, there’s something wrong with you,” he muttered, only a little unnerved.

 

So off he went, moving closer to the inner city, more and more people populating the buildings and streets. The quiet, simple buildings of the alley were replaced with great works of architecture,  intertwined and imbedded within the trees. The road Takua walked on bustled with traffic now, as carts pulled by Rahi and hocking salesmen made their rounds. The chatter of the market increased as Takua moved into the square. Looking around, he didn’t see anything that caught his eye, until he bumped into Jaka.

 

“Over here,” his friend beckoned, his normally happy tone peppered with worry.

 

“Jaka!” Takua answered, surprised by his student appearance. “What’s going on?”

 

“You’d… better come and see.”

 

Jaka led Takua through the square, to the far corner where a humble bookstore sat, built around the base of a great oak. His friend moved to the side of the building, revealing a ladder that took them a dozen or so feet off the ground, to a wooden platform built into the side of the great tree. Takua huffed, pulling himself up the last rung, a cluster of Matoran coming into view. They huddled around… something, and so Takua followed Jaka’s lead, squeezing their way through, revealing a disturbing scene.

 

It was a Matoran.

 

There, on the platform, shivering and shaking and muttering incoherently, lay someone who looked… vaguely familiar. Most of his bright green body armor was covered with mud, and his mask was withered, sunken, and grey. But even without the color, Takua thought he recognized the Ruru. He blinked, inhaling sharply as he noticed the bold, black words that were painted on the tree bark behind him.

 

RUN, ATOURI. HE IS COMING.

 

Takua swallowed. It was the Storyteller from the Twisted Nail.

 

“…What happened?” he asked.

 

“Nobody knows,” Jaka shook his head as he knelt, trying to get a look into the Matoran’s eyes. They stared blankly forward, twitching, focusing on nothing at all. “We might have been one of the last people to see him before… whatever made him like this.”

 

“Out of the way, out of the way!”

 

A voice sounded from the back of the crowd, and the mass of bodies opened up, revealing the small frame of Turaga Matau. He stepped through the murmuring mass, accompanied by three, well-decorated, professional-looking Matoran. Two of them Takua recognized — the first was Tui, Matau’s charming, caring, personal healer, and the second he knew as Oran, the stocky and powerful captain of the Gukko Force. Both had always been around when he was younger, growing up in Matau’s home. But the third was a Ko-Matoran he’d never met — tall and lean, his icy blue eyes locked onto Takua’s from behind an off-white Akaku. The stare would’ve been threatening, if Takua hadn’t known he was with the Turaga.

 

“What happened here?” the Turaga asked, a bit of fluster in his voice. But no one responded, and so he opened his arms, turning to address the crowd. “Does anyone know what happened here?” he repeated, but the crowd only murmured, looking at each other with confusion. Matau sighed, leaning against his staff as he rubbed his temple. “…Does anyone know who this Matoran is?” he said, pointing at the frail shape beneath him.

 

It was Jaka who finally spoke. He only stammered a little. “…He’s the Storyteller, Turaga.”

 

Matau snapped his head around to look at the fidgeting Matoran, pain quickly flooding his eyes as he now recognized him. “No…” he whispered to himself, but the moment only lasted a second, and then he was back, back to the strong, fearless leader he was known to be. He cleared his throat, addressing the crowd once more. “Does anyone have any information on this subject? Who found him?”

 

And slowly, cautiously, a hand raised from amidst the bodies. Takua squinted to see who it was, but after a few murmurs and jostles a small figure was pushed to the front of the crowd, and Takua recognized her. It no one he was particularly close to, but he knew she was one of Talim’s friends — a kind, thin Matoran who worked in the bookshop below their feet.

 

“What is your name, little one?” Matau asked.

 

“Alani,” she replied quietly, brown eyes flicking back and forth behind her teal Komau. Briefly, she made eye contact with Takua and Jaka. Jaka gave her an awkward, but supportive wave.

 

“Alani? Well, you’ve done well, Alani,” Matau replied. “Now, did you see — ”

 

“Turaga,” Tui spoke up, having finished her initial overview, and it was clear she was worried — worried enough to interrupt him, at least. But Matau allowed it, his gaze yielding, and the healer went on. “Physically, he’s fine. It’s just that his mask is losing color, and he won’t respond to anything. I’m… I’m afraid I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

 

Matau cursed, pausing as he stared at the Storyteller. “What’s he mumbling about?”

 

The healer leaned close to the Matoran, listening intently. After a moment, she nervously made eye contact with Takua, then turned to the Turaga. Tui opened her mouth to speak, but then swallowed, choking on her words.

 

“Well?” Matau asked again, and something about the situation worried him more than anyone else. Takua could tell, it was apparent in his speech.

 

Tui glanced at Takua again. “He’s saying… ‘Takua.’ Over, and over again.”

 

Edited May 20 by ZOMBI3S

[ZOMBI3S]

Chapter 5 - Unanswered Questions

 

Takua blinked. “What?”

 

But Matau was a flurry of movement, and in a second he had grabbed Takua by the shoulders, intensely staring into his Pakari. “Listen to me Takua,” the Turaga narrowed his gaze. “I need you to tell the truth. Do you know anything — anything at all — about this?”

 

“What? No!” Takua blurted, his heart racing, suddenly afraid he was being framed for something. “I… I don’t know anything!”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Of course!”

 

Worry peppered Matau’s eyes, but he accepted Takua’s answer. “Okay,” he reassured with a slight pat. “I believe you,” and he let go, turning to his Ko-Matoran colleague. With a brief nod, he gave permission for the newcomer to take a closer look.

 

Takua watched as the off-white warrior knelt, wiping the mud from the victim’s mask, the crowd quieting as he spent half a minute inspecting. But then without warning, he stood, tapping Matau on the shoulder. Takua caught his words as they were whispered into the Turaga’s ear.

 

“I've seen this before.”

 

The two shared a brief, stern look, and without anything else Matau was moving again, waving his arms about the crowded circle. “Alright, everyone away!” he commanded, shooing the crowd off. “Don’t any of you have places to be? Go about your lives, get a drink or something! This is our business now, not yours.”

 

The crowd groaned, having hoped for some kind of story they could share with their friends. But Oran’s mass backed up Matau’s words, and they quickly conceded, one by one descending the ladder as the Turaga tapped his foot and wished for privacy. In a few minutes only Takua, Jaka, and Alani remained, standing awkwardly, unsure of what to do as Matau became a whirlwind once more.

 

“Oran! Bring him to my chambers, will you? And find your second — tell him that I want those new recruits trained. And Tui? Your apprentice, the good one — what was her name? Yes, meet me in my study this evening and bring her with you. And talk to that Alani, make sure she’s alright. Someone her age stumbling on a scene such as this….” He trailed away as Oran’s strong arms lifted the Storyteller, as Tui moved for the ladder, motioning for Alani to follow. He then swiveled to the Ko-Matoran, his voice hurried and hushed. “What is this Kokani; what do you know? Is this some kind of Madness — ”

 

“…Turaga?” Takua let out.

 

“ — We don’t know about? I have been having this feeling, you know. A feeling in my gut that we’re getting — ”

 

“Turaga!” Takua exclaimed, unable to keep quiet anymore. His voice cut through Matau’s conversation, and the leader of Le-Koro turned to look at him.

 

“Ah, my apologies, Takua, Jaka…” he trailed off, blinking as he readjusted, his mind running far beyond the present. “What… what are you two still doing here?”

 

Takua had to take a breath, calming himself before he spoke. He clenched his fists, respectfully, yet forcefully, asking for answers. “He’s saying my name, Turaga. Why… why is he saying my name?”

 

The one called Kokani stood his ground, his stoic Akaku keeping its secrets as Matau paused. But the Turaga’s aged mask let out a reassuring smile, and for whatever reason, Takua couldn’t help but notice the lines on his Mahiki. He stared, noticing for the first time in his life, the marks that time had made on the Turaga. The scars of a lifetime, longer than anyone truly knew. And a sudden, strange revelation came to Takua. One that told him Turaga Matau… he was getting very old.

 

“I don’t know what to tell you, Takua. I’m not quite sure what’s going on myself.” Matau rubbed his mask, steadying himself with his staff. “But I promise, if it’s something you should know about… I’ll find you.”

 

Takua looked at him, troubled, but not knowing what else to say. He nodded, trusting the Turaga’s words as he avoided Kokani’s gaze. “Okay,” he breathed, trying to push away his anxiety. “If you say so.”

 

Another nod. Another reassurance Takua wanted to believe. “Go about your day, Takua. I’ll handle this from here.”

 

And so it was time to leave. The two friends bowed, bidding the Turaga farewell, and within a minute Takua found himself back on street level, moving through the marketplace. He walked through the crowded square, passing vendors and livestock and carts and wagons, lost in thought as his feet took him where they may. The dusty bustle of inner Le-Koro was nothing compared to the turmoil of his mind, and it took Jaka three times to call his name before he perked up. 

 

“Hey!” A quick tap on his shoulder as Jaka caught up with him. “You okay?”

 

“I guess,” Takua shrugged. “I don’t know.”

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

Jaka frowned, keeping up with Takua’s absent amble as they moved through the streets. The crowd thinned as they approached Lake Kanae. “…Do you need to talk?”

 

“I need…” Takua kicked a rock to the side of the road. “I don’t know what I need.”

 

“Alright Brakas,” Jaka sighed. “Do you know anything at all?”

 

“Mata Nui,” Takua rolled his eyes. “I need to think.”

 

And Jaka knew what that meant, even if Takua didn’t say it. They set a path for the docks, crossing the wide bridge as they left Le-Koro proper, following the dusty road that snaked around Lake Kanae’s southern edge. Through the outskirts, past the farms and gardens of their neighbors, around a bend and into a secluded valley where the sounds of the city no longer reached them. Here, nestled in a small inlet stood the docks: a cluster of buildings that only saw traffic in the early morning, and their favorite place to go for peace and quiet.

 

Their boots clomped as they turned onto a long pier, passing canoes and dinghies and sailboats, all tied up and waiting for the next day’s dawn. The fishermen of Le-Koro had already put in their hours, and save for a handful of Matoran sorting supplies ashore, the two had the place to themselves. Reaching the end of the dock they sat down, staring out at the shining water. It was calm, and still.

 

Takua sighed, leaning back as he stared out, eyes drawn to the large rock rising from the water a few dozen feet out. Words were scrawled onto it, etched by some prankster or a bored artist or a maddened sailor years ago, but Takua read them all the same, as he always did when he sat here.

 

Suva Kaita, Kini-Nui

Turaga, Toa, Prophesy

Light and Dark both know their duty

Blood and fire, both shall be.

Unity upon the shore

Yet doubt lingers, evermore

To the tower beyond the sea

A choice of broken destiny.

 

No one knew what it meant, if anything, but Takua always found some comfort in the words. There was a simple joy in trying to make sense of the inscription, despite never having an answer. He liked to imagine it was a prophesy, inscribed by one of the wandering Chroniclers of old, its mystery only growing as the years ticked by. But that probably wasn’t the case.

 

“You okay?”

 

Jaka’s voice pierced his thoughts and Takua rubbed his temples, letting out a sigh. “Yeah. I just don’t know what to think.”

 

Jaka nodded. “It is kind of creepy.”

 

The two stared out at the water, watching as a pair of Kahu swooped over its surface.

 

Jaka started up again, a thought seemingly brimming in his head. “Do you know that Ko-Matoran Matau was with?” 

 

“No, why?”

 

“I’ve seen him before,” Jaka said. “He comes to visit the Turaga every once and a while. He seems to know a lot about what’s going on with the rest of the island.” 

 

Takua thought about it for a second. “And?”

 

“If you really want to find out what’s going on…” Jaka trailed off purposefully, leaving the rest of his sentence open to interpretation.

 

Takua looked over to his friend, realizing what he was suggesting, and smiled.

 

 

~~~

 

 

“How did he find us?”

 

Matau’s eyes moved quickly, his fingers drumming with anxiety as Kokani leaned against the far wall, perfectly still. The curtains were drawn, shielding them from the outside world, and the low ceilings of Matau’s study loomed. The furniture, normally cozy and warm, now cast long, ominous shadows, spurred from the dim lightstones Matau had mounted on his walls. The air itself was thick and heavy, the same as Kokani’s slow reply.

 

“…I don’t know.”

 

“Who knew? You and I? The other Turaga? The commoners at the Twisted Nail? They wouldn’t have known what it meant but though,” Matau frowned. “It looks like any trinket off the street!”

 

“They knew it was important to you. The right person might have recognized it, put two and two together.” Kokani rolled his staff between his fingers, the long blade on its end glimmering. “You’ve had it for years. It’s not that far-fetched that someone might have been keeping tabs.”

 

“Every day since you brought it here, I’ve worn it around my neck. If someone knew about it before yesterday, why wait? Why strike only now? Le-Koro is no different today than it has been for years prior.”

 

“It is different though,” Kokani’s eyes flashed icy blue. “Because you gave it to the boy.”

 

There was silence as the air grew heavier, and Matau took a deep breath before leaning over his table, a finger pointing to Kokani. “Don’t start that,” he let out, already exasperated. “Don’t do this to me.”

 

“I’m just saying — ”

 

“You don’t know what it’s like!” Matau raised his voice just enough to overpower the Ko-Matoran, who fell silent and looked away. “After so long… so many years… I had no choice.”

 

Kokani spared a few seconds to collect his words, stringing them together before he dared to reply. He was quiet and cautious. “Nuju and Nokama are still in good health… it could have been them. It could have been me. It could have been anyone…” he trailed off as he looked back to the Turaga, not accusing him, but simply trying to understand. “But you chose the boy. Over everyone else.”

 

Matau only nodded. “You don’t know him like I do.”

 

“Then you’re sure? That it was the right thing to do? Not only for you, but for all of us?”

 

“More than anything.”

 

The silence seemed to echo as the room waited for Kokani’s response. But the warrior only met Matau’s gaze, seeing the resolve in his mask, the confidence he had in his decision. And if Kokani challenged it, Matau gave no ground. And so, the Ko-Matoran nodded.

 

“So be it,” he let out, suddenly moving from his post, walking about the room as he locked the door and began to check the windows. He changed subjects. “This has happened before, mostly up north where the Kryll are massing. Physically, the victim is fine, but their mind — their spirit, is severed from the body. Shattered, or maybe stolen away. The Storyteller will live, so long as he’s fed and taken care of. But it will be a life devoid of thought or emotion — similar to infection by way of the Madness. It’s the work of shadow powers, that much is certain.”

 

“Shadow powers? You don’t mean — ?”

 

“I do,” Kokani paused to grip his staff, feeling its comfortable weight. “It means he’s here.”

 

“Mata Nui…”

 

“I can fight him if I must, but we need a plan. If the boy doesn’t know about the stone, then we can use that to our advantage. He’s probably already being watched.”

 

“Is that why Takua’s name is muttered? Because he holds the stone?”

 

“That…” Kokani paused, looking over his shoulder as he shut a window and moved to the next room. “…I do not know.”

 

Matau frowned, following him through the doorway to as to keep their voices low. “I must speak with the other Turaga. This is something that can’t — ”

 

Kokani’s hand went up, open and stiff at the side of his mask. It was a gesture Matau knew him to use, one that froze all words and actions in the room. The Turaga bit his tongue, now on edge even more than he already was. Something had caught the Ko-Matoran’s attention, something out of the ordinary — something potentially dangerous. Matau waited as Kokani’s eyes locked onto a nearby window, and it took him only a second to realize what that meant: someone was spying on them.

 

Slowly, Kokani moved. His feet were silent, almost floating across the floor as he approached, the window looming ahead. Steel flashed as he released a dagger from its sheath, and all the while Matau kept quiet, clenching his fists with bated breath.

 

Then — a flurry of movement. Kokani shoved the window open and lurched halfway out, his dagger leading the way before he froze, the muscles in his back tensing, then relaxing. And he spoke.

 

“Well. Look what we have here.”

 

There was a yelp as he reached down, yanking someone into the view — and it was Takua.

 

“Come here, boy,” Kokani growled, pulling him through the small space, unceremoniously letting him tumble into the study. Takua thumped to the floor, groaning with guilt, wincing at Kokani’s words. “We have things to talk about.”

 

Matau looked down, shocked to see him before the disappointment made its way to his mask. “…Spying? On me, of all people?”

 

Takua looked down, grimacing as he scratched the back of his mask. He managed to pull an apology from his mouth. “…Sorry.”

 

“What did you hear?” Kokani demanded. “Speak. Or I’ll beat it out of you.” 

 

“Now now, there won’t be any need for violence, Kokani,” Matau interrupted, crossing his arms as he knelt to Takua’s level. His eyes met the young Matoran’s with patience.  “Tell us Takua… what did you hear?”

 

“…Nothing.”

 

“Really?”

 

Takua bit his lip, eyes flicking from Matau to Kokani, and back again. “Yeah.”

 

Matau sighed. “…Kokani’s not going to beat you up, I promise.”

 

“Okay fine!” Takua let out, still unsure as he confessed. “I heard… something about the Madness? And shadow powers? I don’t know, I could only get every other word, and none of it made any sense to me anyway!” He trailed off, fidgeting under the pressure of their eyes. “I just… I just wanted to find out why he was saying my name.”

 

The Turaga looked back at Kokani, but the warrior was already staring at him, as if waiting to hear what he would say. There was a moment in which Takua's words lingered in the air, like a bubble waiting to pop, before Matau replied.

 

“What did I say earlier, Takua?”

 

Takua grumbled under his breath.

 

“What?”

 

“You said you’d find me if it was something I should know about,” he repeated, obviously unsatisfied.

 

“And do you trust me?”

 

Takua exhaled. “…Yeah.”

 

And the Turaga offered his hand, pulling Takua to his feet before brushing him off and making him presentable again. “I can understand that you're worried, but I simply can't help you yet. There are…" Matau straightened the boy’s shoulder armor, his fingers catching the silver chain around his neck. Inadvertently, his gaze went to the black stone hanging from it, and he trailed off, remembering the words he’d said the day prior.

 

He’d said it represented eternity. The stone represented destiny. Matau looked back to Takua’s sharp lime eyes, allowing only a tinge of sadness to reach his mask before he patted him on the shoulder.

 

“…There are things Kokani and I need to discuss," he finished. Then, a second later, “in private.”

 

And Takua took that well enough. He nodded, agreed to respect their wishes, and promised he wouldn’t get into any more trouble. Matau shuffled him to the door, opening it and revealing Le-Koro’s square, now bathed in the pink-orange glow of the nearly-set sun. The bustling crowds were finally dwindling.

 

They bade goodbye and Matau watched him go through the pane of his window, furrowing his brow as Takua climbed down the ladder, making his way to the ground. Takua wasn’t a fool. He knew something was wrong, and Matau had done a poor job at hiding it from him. But there was nothing to say. Not yet, at least — though it pained to him to admit it.

 

Matau felt a great deal of things as Takua disappeared from view, swallowed by the trees and buildings and people. But as he had said only minutes ago; there was much to discuss, and so he suppressed his emotions and turned around, meeting Kokani’s steely blue gaze with fortitude.

 

“Well…” he clasped his hands together. “Where to begin?”

Edited May 20 by ZOMBI3S

[ZOMBI3S]

Chapter 6 - Visions

 

Everywhere around him was the stench of death. He moved, gliding through through the blackened, burning city, smoke arising from the earth as his feet met the soil. He stood in a square, the buildings vaguely familiar before he realized where he was — this was his home. It was Le-Koro.

 

Into the hollow shell of the Twisted nail, into the smoke and ash and toxic air. A figure was standing within, upright yet lifeless, mumbling as he approached. The flat, red light that dominated everything soon illuminated the Storyteller, whose pale Ruru masked empty eyes. His parched lips mumbled a name, over and over.

 

“Takua… Takua… Takua…”

 

“Wake up!” Takua shook him by the shoulders, daring to ask for answers. “Why are you saying that? Why do you say my name?”

 

“Oh no…” came a voice behind him, and he whirled around to see Alani, standing terrified in the doorway. “Oh no!”

 

“What happened?” Takua called out. “Did you see anything, Alani?”

 

But then she was gone, whisked away by Matau, Oran, and Tui — along with any answers she might have had. The smoke billowed, tearing at his lungs and eyes, but there was a whirl of air and shadow, and another figure now stood before him.

 

Takua blinked, surprised at how quickly it had appeared. Taller than a Matoran and wearing black armor, a mask like a serpent's head rested upon the being’s face. And then, with an aggressive step forward, the being grabbed Takua by the arm and looked into his eyes.

 

“Can you feel his return?”

 

The deep voice reverberated in Takua’s head, chilling him to the bone. But he chose not to back away, instead meeting the orange eyes with confidence, and determination.

 

“Who are you? What do you want from me?”

 

“Don’t you remember? It’s me — Saku.” 

 

And the alarm went off, blaringly loud in Takua’s ear.

 

“Aah!” he screamed as he jolted up, smacking his head on the notorious shelf. "Mata Nui!" he cried out, once again beginning his daily spout of curses.

 

He swung his legs over the side of the mattress and planted them on the floor, smacking the top of his alarm clock, and the horrible noise stopped. Sitting there, he gingerly caressed his forehead and wiped the sleep from his eyes. Why he had set that alarm?

 

Oh yes, he remembered. Work.

 

Upon arriving home the previous night, Takua had remembered Raipu had him on the schedule, and maybe that wasn’t so bad. It might take his mind off the Storyteller, and besides — he was in deep need of a paycheck.

 

It was a horrible thing to do, waking up before six in the morning, but with the nightmare still in the back of his mind, Takua decided that maybe it was for the best. Performing the ritual of washing his Pakari in the sink, Takua soon grabbed his necklace, the black stone thumping against his chest, and in less than ten minutes he was out the door.

 

Though the sun had yet to rise, Takua could already tell it was going to be a cool and cloudy. Making his way through southern Le-Koro, he saw the very beginnings of the day's business, something he rarely witnessed. All of Le-Koro's early birds were up and about, brewing tea, making breakfast, and opening their shops. They all seemed so happy to be up before the sun, ready to get ahead of the day.

 

It was a horrible sight.

 

Takua grumbled,  turning onto a rural street that was, much to his delight, still fully asleep. A single lightstone mounted on a nearby tree was the only source of light on the dusty corridor, and as he approached it he found another reason to gripe. Why should anyone be up while streetlights were still needed? That hardly seemed fair. Still a few dozen feet from the small yellow glow, he looked up —

 

There a figure. Standing underneath it, watching him.

 

Takua blinked. It was tall, dark, and its mask — like the head of a serpent. 

 

“…You!” Takua cried out, instantly recognizing it, the figure from yesterday, and his dream. “Hey!”

 

But there was no response. The being only stared at him, not saying a word. 

 

Taking matters into his own hands, Takua ran toward the light, but as he drew closer the shadowy being backed away, disappearing out of sight entirely. Takua slid to a halt next to the streetlight, peering into the darkness, scouring his surroundings.

 

“Wait! Come back!” he called out to the shadows. “What do you want from me? I have questions!”

 

Suddenly, there were hands on his shoulders. Strong, thin fingers gripped his armor from behind, their jarring touch freezing him with fear.

 

“Do you remember, Takua?” he heard the deep voice, quiet yet intimidating, inches from his ear. 

 

Slowly, Takua turned his head glimpse the being. The orange eyes bored into him, the angular mask menacing and powerful. “Who… who are you?” he stammered.

 

“It’s me — Saku.”  

 

Takua’s spine rippled, not daring to breathe, but then as quietly as he’d come, the figure once again retreated, fading impossibly fast into the night.

 

In an instant he was gone.

 

And Takua could only stand there, paralyzed, unsure of what to do. Did he run? Dare he? One thing was for sure, he didn’t want to leave the comfort of the streetlight. But he knew he couldn’t stay here. Mentally bracing himself, he willed up his strength, planted his feet, and tore off down the darkened road.

 

He sprinted, as fast as he could through the trees, through his forest he’d thought he knew. But now everything was different. The once-familiar trees towered ominously above, the dwellings of his neighbors dark and untrustworthy. There was someone out there, someone powerful and dangerous, stalking him around every corner. Fear flashed through his head. Was this being — this Saku — following him?

 

He ran until his lungs felt they would burst, but he willed his body to keep going. He kept up his mad dash, exhausting himself, until finally he broke out of the sleepy, spooky alleyways and into the lightstones of the construction site. Slowing his arms, his legs wobbling like jelly, he collapsed on the ground by a pile of planks and bricks. And he sat there, wheezing, catching his breath, until someone approached him.

 

“Takua… are you okay?”

 

Takua opened his eyes, seeing Raipu’s broad shoulders standing over him. The Po-Matoran offered his hand.

 

“…Yeah,” he said between breaths, relieved to see a familiar face. “I am now.”

 

Raipu was reasonably skeptical. “Um… is something going on?”

 

It was then that Takua realized how crazy it would sound. An armored stalker? One who could appear and disappear at will? He shook his head and gritted his teeth. “…Nope! Everything’s fine.”

 

“Come on, Takua. Don’t be weird about this.”

 

“I’m not being weird.”

 

“Yes…” Raipu folded his arms and tapped his foot. “Yes, you definitely are.”

 

Takua groaned and rolled his eyes, but spilled the story to Raipu anyway. It didn’t make any sense, and the Po-Matoran didn’t seem to believe it, but at the end of Takua’s tale he seemed a little amused, at least. A hint of a smirk arose on his Hau.

 

“I didn’t take you for one to get intimidated so easily.”

 

“I’m not,” Takua grunted, narrowing his eyes. “There was just something about him. Something about his mask that was… I don’t know. It was threatening.”

 

Raipu pondered it. “Like a serpent’s head, huh? I’ve never heard of a mask like that.”

 

“Yeah… me neither.”

 

Raipu turned away from him. “Sounds like you’ve been daydreaming too much,” he concluded, motioning now to the half-finished structure before them. “Now enough talk. You want to get paid or not?”

 

“I mean, I guess.”

 

Takua shook his head as he walked away. Was it just a dream? It certainly could have been. Dark shadows, mysterious appearances, things that don’t make sense — it was perfect dream material. Maybe he did just need a good day’s work.

 

The sun finally poked its head through the clouds, illuminating the worksite in a soft glow. Takua climbed the tower of scaffolding per Raipu’s instructions, dodging other workers and stepping over tools until he made it to the top level. There, he found a pail of mortar and started to add stones to the unfinished wall in front of him.

 

It was to be a temple, once it was finished, a temple devoted to the principle of faith. When he was little, Matau and his other teachers had engrained that school of thought well enough. Faith was at the heart of being a Le-Matoran. It was the wind beneath your feet, the trust you have in your allies, the idea that all will end well. It gave Unity, Duty, and Accuracy to one’s life, and as for Takua — well, he supposed it was important enough.

 

He worked in silence for a few minutes, numbing his thoughts with honest labor. Faith was… something he didn’t have to think about. It was just there. Well, now he was thinking about it of course, but that was besides the point.

 

“I haven’t seen you here before,” came a voice from behind him. “Are you new?”

 

“Huh?” Takua turned around. “Oh. Not really, I just… don’t like working.”

 

The Matoran laughed. “I understand. Usually I like this job; I get to listen to the calls of the Rahi out here. There’s a lot more wildlife to listen to in the outskirts.”

 

Takua listened. All he heard were a couple of Kewa, chirping away from somewhere nearby.

 

“I’m Brok, by the way.”

 

“Takua,” he responded politely.

 

“Although,” Brok went on. “It seems like I’ve been hearing less over the past few days. It’s almost… as if all the animals are leaving.”

 

Takua frowned, thinking nothing of it as he got back to work. “Another mystery. In a land that’s filled with them.”

 

“Yeah,” Brok turned to his side of the wall, but then seemingly decided it was impossible to work in silence. “When it’s not cloudy, I also like to watch the morning stars. Did you know that the stars can tell you the future? When the Red Star moves in the right place of a constellation, the event the constellation represents will happen.”

 

Takua humored him. “And you believe that, Brok?”

 

“I guess,” Brok shrugged. “It’s fun to believe in things!”

 

Takua smirked to himself. “I guess it is,” he replied, and then remembered the old Matoran, who had stopped him as as he’d returned Talim’s house.

 

The stars will guide you… he mulled the words over in his head. Maybe that’s what he had meant.

 

Thump-thp.

 

Takua paused his work, looking down at the stone as it dangled around his neck. It hung there, as any piece of jewelry would. There was a moment of quiet, as the sound of the chirping birds left him, and the subtle heartbeat echoed in his ears. He narrowed his eyes, not sure if he had actually heard the sound, or if his mind was playing tricks on him. But he stared at the black, shiny stone nonetheless, suddenly feeling... uneasy? Suspicious? He couldn’t really tell.

 

Thump thp! 

 

A sudden pain in his chest, and Takua’s ears cracked and rang, blotting out all other noise. He clutched his armor and cried out, the burning sensation spreading, pain radiating through his entire being. He tried to stand, only to find the whole world spinning around him. The blur he thought was Brok got up and tried to say something, but Takua couldn't hear. He couldn’t see! All he knew was the burning, singeing, electrifying pain. His vision flickered, his feet stepping back, stumbling! And somehow he knew he was falling. The agony grew, writhing through his limbs as he plummeted off the scaffolding and into open air.

 

He approaches.

 

The world reverberated, pulsating around him as the voice whispered in Takua's screaming ears. The pain was unbearable, and nothing would make it stop.

 

He will come at you through blood and fire, but you must not give in. 

 

Takua writhed in the air as he felt his mind slipping away. He had to stay awake. He had to!

 

If you give in, the balance will never be restored.

 

Burning, burning, burning everywhere. His eyes closed. No! He forced them open. He had to stay awake!

 

Your time of choosing rapidly approaches.

 

He had to...! He had to....

 

Your destiny, rapidly approaches.

 

Takua shut his eyes — and saw no more.

Edited May 29 by ZOMBI3S

[ZOMBI3S]

Chapter 7 - Precautions

 

“Good morning you three!” came Matau’s cheerful greeting. He nodded to Takua, Jaka, and Talim respectively. “What brings you here today?”

 

Takua hesitated, making eye contact with each of his friends. They both urged him on, and so he mustered his courage. “What is this?” he held out the stone, dangling by its chain.

 

The Turaga's smile faded. The lines in his mask became more pronounced, the bags under his eyes suddenly noticeable. And his demeanor changed, fading into exhaustion. “Come inside,” he sounded, holding the door open

 

The three entered into the study, greeted by the warm tones and warmer firelight. There was Tui in one corner, nodding to him briefly over a scroll, and Takua saw Kokani in another, watching them intently. The blue eyes behind his Akaku followed their every move, like a hunter eyeing its prey. Takua shuddered. The Ko-Matoran’s gaze unnerved him.

 

“Sit down,” Matau said, motioning to a few cushiony chairs along one wall. He took his own seat by the fireplace, next to Kokani. "Now, what do you want to know?" 

 

Takua would’ve rather done this without the Ko-Matoran present, but if he had to, he’d rather not waste time. “Why did you give this to me?" Takua asked, rolling the stone between his fingers.  “Ever since I got it, I’ve been… seeing things. Hearing voices in my head. And there’s always this...” he paused, trying to explain it, “...This heartbeat.”

 

Matau closed his eyes, deep in thought. After a few moments, he turned to glance at Tui, then Kokani. 

 

“Takua deserves to know,” Tui mentioned from behind her scroll, answering Matau’s unasked question.

 

Kokani chose not to speak, yielding to Matau’s judgement.

 

Sighing, Matau turned back to Takua. “I gave it to you because I trust you. You must keep it safe, no matter what.”

 

Holding it up, Takua had to stop himself from raising his voice. “This thing… it almost killed me today!” He exasperated. The intense pain, the whispering voice in his head — the long, seemingly endless plummet to the ground. Takua had Brok to thank for his life, who had been able to warn Raipu and a few others on the ground. In the few seconds before his fit had sent him tumbling off the scaffolding, they’d managed to move a tarp and catch him, just a few feet before the ground did.

 

It was Raipu who’d informed his friends about the incident, and after making sure he was okay, their first stop was to come see the Turaga. Takua swallowed, hating to give back Matau’s blessing, but he saw no other option.

 

 “Whatever it is — I don’t want it,” he let out. “Please, take it back” 

 

Matau didn’t look up from the floor. “I’m sorry Takua. But I can’t.” 

 

“Why not?”

 

“You don’t understand,” the Turaga sighed. “To hold the Atouri — the stone on your necklace — it is both a blessing and a curse. It will lend you power and strength, but such things are dangerous and addictive. And fending them off requires strength. Strength… that I no longer have.” Matau looked up from the floor, his eyes meeting Takua’s with purpose, and intention. “You must carry on in my footsteps, Takua.”

 

“What?” Takua shook his head, his mind flashing back to the Storyteller. “The Atouri? Like… in the story? I thought that was just an old legend!”

 

“If only it were…” Kokani rumbled.

 

Takua’s mind clicked. The way the Storyteller had been staring at him, the reason why he’d shared that particular story… was that it? Because he now held some weird magic rock? “That doesn’t…” he stammered. “That doesn’t make any sense!”

 

But then the door burst open behind them, startling Talim and Jaka. It was Oran, clad in full armor, his stocky build taking up the entire doorway. Instantly, he stood at attention. “Turaga!”

 

Matau didn’t miss a beat. “What is it?”

 

“You are needed. We have a situation.”

 

Sighing, Matau got up from his chair. “I’m afraid it’s time for you three to leave — there are many things I must attend to,” he stated coldly, ushering the three young Matoran to the door. “I will answer your questions at another time.”

 

“No, I want to know now!” Takua protested as he was pushed outside.

 

“Later, my boy.”

 

“When!?”

 

“When the time is right,” Matau muttered, and with a solid thunk, the three were left outside in the late morning air.

 

Takua stood there, staring at the oak door. Every time he tried to get answers, something happened. His chest warm, he wanted to pound his fists against the wood until Matau opened up — but that would be out of line. The Turaga had a city to run, and that was much more important than his frivolous questions. He stood in silence, Talim and Jaka behind him, as if maybe, by some means, if he stared at the door long enough, it would give in and splinter apart. But nothing happened.

 

“Well… now what?” came Jaka’s voice. 

 

Takua continued to stare at the door, silent in his frustration.

 

“Come on,” Talim said, grabbing Takua by the hand, pulling him away from the square of wood. “Let’s go. No use starting at it.”

 

“But I — ”

 

“Did Raipu pay you? Yeah? Then come on!” she smiled, shaking his hand ever-so-slightly, somehow knowing just how to dispel his nerves. “Let’s go spend it!”

 

And Takua reluctantly agreed. None of them had eaten yet that day, and the severity of Takua’s incident had given them all the day off work. The sun had started to shine, Le-Koro’s shops were open, and it was Talim’s insistence that they put all of this behind them. That, at least for a few hours, they live like they ruled the island. Because retail therapy was the only therapy — according to her, at least.

 

They climbed down to street-level, and Takua took a deep breath at her request. He smelled the grills and bakeries, listened to the merchants call out, and tried to embrace the chaos of the streets as he ignored the chaos in his head. He opened his eyes in a slightly better mood — and he knew where he wanted to go.

 

 

~~~

 

 

Matau watched them go through the pane of his window, rubbing the bridge of his mask before turning and thanking Oran for his intrusion. The gruff Matoran spoke, handing him a rolled-up parchment, it’s seal already broken.

 

“Word from the other Koro. The Turaga support you. We’ve got the green light; this is our best shot.”

 

Matau accepted the report, but his eyes still followed Takua. “Then there’s no going back. Your team is in position?”

 

“Around the clock. Since last night.”

 

“Thank you, Oran,” Matau replied, and the captain of the Gukko Force bowed, then quietly exited the study, closing the door as he went off to perform his duties.

 

“That was nicely placed,” Tui’s voice came from the corner. “But you can’t avoid his questions forever.” 

 

“I know. But you know why we can’t tell him.”

 

“Are you sure this is the right thing? What if we’re going about this all wrong? Should we be hiding him, or taking him to another Koro, where he’ll be safe? This is an awful risk, Turaga.”

 

“He is safe. We’ve seen to that,” Matau replied. “And besides,” he lifted the report. “The other Turaga have spoken. This is the best way get an edge on our enemy. I don't have a choice.”

 

“You always have a choice.”

 

Kokani said nothing through their conversation, choosing instead to polish his staff. Longer than he was tall, the blade on its end shone with intimidating sharpness. Three more strokes of his cloth and he was satisfied, placing it against the wall as he met the others’ gaze.

 

“If we told him, he wouldn’t cooperate. And we’d get nothing out of all this.”

 

Tui chose to focus on her scroll, dissenting without saying it explicitly. “Makuta always has schemes of his own. He rules darkness for a reason: you can’t see where he hides.”

 

Kokani put his polishing cloth away and placed his blade upon his back. “He’ll be here soon.” 

 

Turaga Matau paused. “I know.”

 

 

~~~

 

 

"Hey!" Shu snapped. "If it's broken or scratched, you buy it." 

 

Jaka swallowed as he picked up the sword from where he’d dropped it, examining it for a second. Gingerly, he put it back on the shelf, proudly exclaiming to the weapons dealer, “Its fine!”

 

“Don’t break my stuff, Jaka.”

 

“I said it’s fine!”

 

“…Baldwalker.”

 

“Hey, come on,” Takua interjected. “Be nice, Shu.”

 

“I am being nice. He’s touching my stuff, Takua.”

 

“He’s supposed to! It’s for sale!”

 

Shu grunted, his beady eyes still watching Jaka. “That is a good point.”

 

“Now… will you tell me about it?”

 

Shu gave Jaka one last glare before turning back to Takua. He traced the back edge of the dagger he was holding with one long, lanky finger. “It’s crafted out of protosteel and inlaid with reinforced gold. You'll never have to worry about it breaking — unless you decide to cut apart something else made of protosteel.” He flipped it over in his hands, drawing attention to the shape of the blade. “Slightly curved, perfect for cutting, and partially serrated back here to rip anything that's left when it's pulled out.” He noted, and Takua saw the jagged section along its back edge. “That’s something you might need with all the Rahi attacks these days!” Shu’s red eyes flashed, expressing the almost-worrisome passion he had for violence.

 

“Look’s pretty nice to me,” Takua smiled, brushing off Shu’s enthusiasm.

 

“Pretty nice?” the dealer exclaimed. “No, no — see this here?” He turned the dagger upside down and pointed to a symbol, etched into the very bottom of the handle. “This means it was made in Onu-Koro: the highest quality you can find on Mata Nui!" He placed it back down on the counter and looked up at Takua. “That… is the best your money can buy. So what do you think?” 

 

Takua held the weapon in his hand. He felt the soft, dark red leather of the handle as he turned it over. He didn’t have a real reason for buying the weapon, except that it was a handy tool to have around. And the thought of having a blade on him at all times… well, it eased his nerves. The mysterious being — Saku — briefly flashed through his head. One could never be too cautious, after all. 

 

“I'll take it.” 

 

“Brilliant!” Shu exclaimed, pulling out his pocketbook. “That will be fifty widgets!” 

 

Takua's eyes widened at the price. “Oh…never mind. I can't afford that.” 

 

Shu’s smile faded as Takua turned away. Determined to make the sale, he grabbed Takua by the arm. “Tell you what! For you? I'll make it forty! Because you gave me a good laugh with that Takea shark thing.”

 

Takua rolled his eyes. Shu would bring up the Takea shark. “I don't know…” he scratched his head. “You know me, Shu, I love a good deal. But that's still most of my pay.”

 

“Okay, okay — let’s call it thirty-five.”

 

“Deal!”

 

Takua offered his hand and the two shook on it. And a minute later Takua walked out of the store with his new purchase, closely followed by Jaka and Talim. He showed the dagger to them upon request, and they admired the craftsmanship as much as anyone who knew nothing about craftsmanship. But before Takua could brag about all the fancy things Shu had told him about the blade, they decided it was time to eat. And so as they headed off to Boro’s Bakery, Takua told himself that it was time to put his new knife to the test — if it could cut Boro’s fruitcake, it could cut anything.

 

It was mid-afternoon now, and Takua watched people walk about the streets as the three sat in Boro’s parlor, eating their dessert. The questions he wanted to ask Matau burned in the back of his head, like the smoldering embers of a long dead fire. He listened to Jaka and Talim's conversation without taking in any of their words. Every once and a while he caught something about the leak in Jaka's roof, or a crazy customer at the Twisted Nail, but nothing really seemed to matter. It seemed, rather, that everything he knew was being threatened… by a simple trinket.

 

Matau's mention of the Atouri worried him. He didn't really believe that his necklace was a great and powerful artifact, but if it was? What if the voices, the mysterious appearances by Saku, the heartbeat he kept hearing, what if it was all real? What if the darkness of Makuta was infecting him, and he was turning into a monster? What if he woke up one morning with an infected mask on his face? What if one day he just had the desire to spread evil? To destroy anything in his path, to kill the ones he loved?

 

Catching himself feeling the stone as it dangled from his neck, he took it off and laid it on the table, next to his unfinished fruitcake. Content to watch the salesmen and travelers walk about, he tried to calm his mind. He watched as wagons passed, pulled by various Rahi. A train of them went by, and through the cracks between them he thought he saw someone looking at him. Leaning closer to the window, he was able to verify that — yes, someone was staring at him from across the market. A figure. A tall figure, one that wore dark armor, and a mask — shaped like a serpent.

 

Saku! 

 

In a second he stood up, sending his chair toppling over as he grabbed his dagger from where it rested on his belt. Eyeing the spaces between the wagon-train closely, he waited for the last cart to pass. And it did, only to reveal busy Matoran walking about the streets. Takua frowned, searching for the mysterious being — until he felt someone pulling on his arm.

 

“Takua?” Talim asked.

 

Takua turned around to see everyone in the small shop staring at him, frightened expressions on their faces. Realizing how threatening he must look, he wasted no time in sheathing the dagger. Grabbing his chair from where it lay, he sat down and looked at his fruitcake.

 

“Takua, are you okay?” Talim asked again.

 

Hesitating, he managed to pull words out of his mouth. “Yeah. I'm fine.”

Edited May 29 by ZOMBI3S

[ZOMBI3S]

Chapter 8 - Blood on the Leaves

 

“What did you see?”

 

“Nothing.” 

 

“Hey, look at me,” Talim grabbed Takua's hand underneath the table. Her touch was calming, and he obeyed, meeting her gaze before she repeated the question. “What did you see?”

 

Her words were honest; she genuinely wanted to know, yet Takua stared into her mask, fidgeting, unable to move against his own mind. He wanted to tell her, he wanted uncork his thoughts and let them spill out — but it wasn’t that easy.

 

What if she thought he was crazy? What if she laughed at him? It just didn’t make any sense, any of it — and what would it help if he told her anyway? Would Talim be able to stop his nightmares? Did she have a magic wand that would make his stalker disappear? No, she didn’t — so it didn’t matter, and talking about it wouldn’t help things, and —

 

“Mata Nui, will you just tell us what’s going on?” Jaka’s fork clattered to the table.

 

“Alright!” Takua let out, jolted out of his head by the sudden noise. He gritted his jaw, chewing on his tongue for a moment, but then Talim moved her hand, her fingers intertwining with his… and he managed a deep sigh. “…Alright.” He nodded, his nerves finally calming.

 

And so he told them about everything. He told them every strange thing that had happened in the past few days, from his mysterious encounters with Saku, to the voice in his head, to his dreams, the heartbeat, and so on. He continued, constantly worrying that he was sounding insane, waiting for them to get up from the table and leave, dismissing everything as an elaborate tale he'd created for attention— but they didn't. His friends sat by him, listening intently, soaking in every single seemingly insane word.

 

"I'm not sure what's real or not anymore," he concluded, clenching the stone in his palm. “And it all started… when Matau gave me this.”

 

Talim and Jaka looked at him, obviously concerned, although neither of them really knew what to say. It was Jaka who thought of something first. “…Why don’t you just throw that thing away?”

 

“Throw it away?”

 

“Yeah,” Jaka replied matter-of-factly. “Toss it into the Lake Kanae.”

 

“It’s not that easy.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“I don’t know,” Takua tried to think of the right words. “Matau gave it to me as his blessing. He said I have to keep it safe. I have this… responsibility now. And because he chose me… I’m the only one who can do it.”

 

“Tell you what,” Talim chimed in. “This whole thing is stressing you out, so — I’ll hold onto it for the day.” She took hold of the chain, expecting Takua to let go, but he didn’t, and so she paused, hesitant, before continuing. “…You can have it back tonight, okay?” She said, waiting hopefully for his permission.

 

Takua looked at her, then back to the stone, resting in his hand. Now that he was given the choice, he wasn’t sure he actually wanted to let it go. He and the necklace had established… a bond? It sounded weird to even think it, but that’s what it was.  And whatever that really meant, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to give it up. He tried releasing his grip, but his fingers wouldn’t obey. They… they wanted to keep the stone. Or maybe stone wanted to keep him.

 

“Well, what do you say?” Talim proposed, bringing him back to the real world.

 

“...Yeah. Sure,” he said slowly, releasing it, watching her pull the glimmering chain out of his hands.

 

She brought the chain over her head until the stone rested against her chest, and suddenly, it was just a trinket again. “Now come on,” she said, smiling. “Let’s enjoy the rest of our day.”

 

Takua finished the rest of his fruitcake and they left the pastry shop. He was, finally and surprisingly, able to put his thoughts to rest, and it began to seem like a brand new day. Talim wore the stone as if it were a beautiful piece of jewelry, and Takua couldn’t help but notice how she radiated whenever the sun reflected off her armor. She would smile, and the entire area would light up. She would laugh, and Takua had no choice but to smile himself. 

 

The end of the day came quickly. Before long, the glow of twilight engulfed the City of Air, and the setting sun found the three friends by the fountain in the middle of the square. Matoran all around packed up their market stalls, closing for the night, and it was only then that Talim ran into Alani.

 

The two talked and caught up, standing a few feet away while Takua and Jaka sat on the fountain. Talim made sure she was okay, and Alani reassured her that everything was fine, and she’d be back to normal in a day or two. It took Takua a minute to muster up his courage, but by the time he’d walked over and opened his mouth to speak, Alani was ready for him.

 

“I know what you’re going to ask.”

 

That stopped Takua in his tracks. “You do?”

 

“Yeah. And I don’t have any answers for you,” she said, her teal Komau apologetic. “I didn’t see who did it. Or how it was done. And I don’t know why he was saying your name.”

 

“That’s okay,” Takua managed a smile, despite his disappointment. “I was just… thinking that I should try.”

 

And Takua returned to Jaka, letting them have their conversation as they sat on the edge of the fountain. He shifted his gaze to the water, watching it bubble up from the fountain's center. After a few long minutes, Jaka threw a pebble into the water and let out a sigh.

 

“Well, I think I’m going to go.”

 

Takua perked up. “You’re leaving?”

 

“Yeah, I’m tired. And this way you two can… walk home together or something.”

 

Takua frowned. “…Walk home together?”

 

“You know,” Jaka gestured to Talim. “Hold hands and stuff!”

 

“Mata Nui. You’re embarrassing.”

 

“I’m embarrassing? You’re embarrassing!” Jaka let out, mocking him in a low voice as he waved his arms dramatically. “Ooh, Talim! Hold my necklace for me! I can’t do this on my own, this suffering is too much! Be my rock, be my love!”

 

“Are you serious right now? You’re a child.”

 

“And you’re in denial. Do me a favor — eavesdrop on their conversation right now.”

 

“Eavesdrop!?”

 

“It didn’t stop you with Matau.”

 

Takua groaned, but a second later the two had craned their heads and cupped their ears, butting in on Alani and Talim’s conversation from a dozen feet away.

 

“…You should! I think he’s cute.”

 

“Stop! Have you been eyeing him?”

Alani laughed. “Don’t worry, he’s not my type. I like my Matoran bigger and… quieter, than Takua. The gentle giants, you know.”

 

“But hey you know what they say about small Matoran…” Talim lowered her gaze and smirked.

 

Alani paused, thinking. “They… have small boots?”

 

“No!” Talim lowered her voice mischievously. “They’re big where it matters!”

 

“Talim…!”

 

Alani’s mask went red and Takua coughed, pounding his chest as his face flooded with warmth. Jaka grimaced, scratching his head and looked up at the sky.

 

“Ah…” Jaka cleared his throat, turning back to Takua. “Well? She likes you.”

 

“Look,” Takua settled. “Yes, we have a good time when were together. But that doesn’t mean that anything is going to happen.”

 

“Why are you in denial?”

 

“What are you guys talking about?”

 

Takua and Jaka froze to see Talim standing in front of them, obviously finished with her own conversation.

 

“...Politics.”

 

She cocked her head to the side, narrowing her eyes. “…Right, that’s a normal thing for you. Ready to go?”

 

And so without much more talk, the three left for the outskirts as the sun began to set on Le-Koro. They made their way through Le-Koro proper, across the bridge and onto the path that ran along Lake Kanae. The air smelled as it does before a storm, and the three quickened their pace, entering the forest as the wind pushed rumbling clouds over the city.

 

“Hey… Talim?” Takua asked as they rounded a bend, finally feeling ready. “…Can I have my necklace back now?”

 

“Oh, sure!” She smiled as she slid the chain over her neck and handed it to him.

 

The cold stone passed into his fingers, and… everything went black.

 

It was as if the light around them was sucked away, and they were plunged instantly into night. The trees and bushes slipped from their view, and they had to struggle to see more than a dozen feet in front of them. Startled and confused, no one had time to react before a voice sounded from all around.

 

A cold, deep voice, one that Takua recognized from his dreams.

 

“You know, it’s kind of funny.”

 

Takua looked up, searching instantly for the being who stalked him. But it was no use — he was practically blind. Behind him, Jaka muttered, asking what was happening, but no one had answers. The voice continued.

 

“In times of peace, Matoran think they are so powerful, so strong.”

 

There was the sound of steel cutting through flesh, a bloodcurdling scream, and the cracking of branches behind them. Remembering his dagger, Takua whirled around and drew it, its tip pointing to wherever the noises had come from.

 

Talim gripped his palm. Her fingers were cold and trembling. “…What’s going on, Takua?”

 

“They think that not only can they live without fear, but that they can actually fight the darkness!”

 

The voice spoke from everywhere. There was another flash of steel cutting flesh, and something else fell from the branches above.

 

“I know that voice,” Takua managed to choke out. His knuckles white around his weapon, he slowly walked to the first fallen object. “It’s Saku…” He murmured, gripped Talim’s hand tighter, motioning for Jaka to stay close. “…He’s here.”

 

“You think,” another cry, another unseen being falling from the trees. “That you stand a chance against me!”

 

Takua could hear moaning now. Whoever it was that Saku had attacked — they were dying. Slowly, the black unfolded, and he pushed apart the leaves of the underbrush. And there, he saw a Matoran he recognized. Talim gasped. Jaka cursed.

 

Two more attacks, two more bodies falling from the trees above them.

 

“You think you stand a chance against the power of Makuta!”

 

Takua gazed into Oran’s pained eyes, who clutched his torso as blood poured from a deep wound. Saku’s steel had ripped apart his armor and flesh, and it was all the captain of the Gukko Force could do to look back at Takua’s horrified eyes. He opened his mouth, coughing up blood, and managed to choke out one, singular word:

 

“Run…!”

 

The snap of a twig caused Takua to look up, and just behind the dying captain stood the being he feared. The orange eyes glowed in the darkness, revealing the serpent-like mask — and the blood dripping from his long, bladed staff.

 

“Hello, Takua,” Saku smiled as lightning flashed in the sky above.

Edited May 29 by ZOMBI3S

[ZOMBI3S]

Chapter 9 - The Burning Tree

 

Takua ran.

 

Heels digging into the dirt, he turned and sprinted, pulling Talim and Jaka with him. There was no way. This couldn’t be happening. Oran? He couldn’t be dead. That would mean the city guard, the Gukko Force, was without a leader. That would mean Le-Koro… it… he stopped thinking. All he could do was run.

 

The leaves whipped against his mask, and he chanced a look over his shoulder — but it was still too dark. Faster and faster, he willed all his energy into his legs, not knowing where to go, only that it was away from Saku. The forest flew by, his muscles burning, until he slid to a halt on the wide wooden bridge into Le-Koro proper. Jaka and Talim skidded right behind him, and he narrowed his eyes, scanning the open space behind them to see if Saku had followed.

 

The wind blew. The trees rustled. The clouds churned overhead.

 

“…I think we lost him,” he gasped between breaths, dagger still tight in his palm. 

 

“Lost him…?” Jaka wheezed in disbelief. He bent over, chest heaving, but in a second he’d found the strength to stand. He pushed Takua at the shoulder, astounded, irritated, even. “You think we lost him…!?”

 

“Hey!” Takua stumbled back. “What are you doing?”

 

“What are you doing!?" his Kakama let out. “You didn't tell me about this! A mask that looks like a serpent?! Don’t you know what that was!?” 

 

“Obviously not!”

 

“That... that...” Jaka stammered, still catching his breath. “...That was the Mask of Shadows! The Kraahkan! Don't you know anything!?”

 

“What!?”

 

It was Talim’s turn to move forward, panic in her eyes. “He's going to kill us Takua! What are we going to do?”

 

“Alright, alright, calm down!” Takua answered. “Forgive me for not memorizing the shape of every Kanohi to come into existence. So… I'm sorry if I didn't recognize it.” 

 

“Mata Nui, we could've just died right there!” Jaka cursed, resting his hands on his knees. “How did he find you? What does he want from you? We're just Matoran, we can't fight that! He's got the Mask of Shadows!”

 

"I know!"

 

"What are we going to do?!” 

 

“Chill out!” Takua commanded everyone, including himself. As panicked as he was, they had to do something except yell at each other. “Alright,” he said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “We can't stay here,” he motioned to the open, empty bridge. “If he's looking for us, he'll find us eventually. I say we go back to Matau.” 

 

Jaka and Talim looked at each other, then nodded. The roiling, grey sky inched open, and rain began to tap on their armor. A prickle went down Takua’s spine. His ears twitched at the sound of footstep, and he whirled around, pointing his dagger —

 

“Mata Nui, Takua! Easy with that!” 

Takua’s heart fluttered as he recognized the Po-Matoran. “Raipu! It’s you!” He never would’ve thought he’d be so happy to see him. “We need all the help we can get!"

 

The stocky builder cocked an eyebrow. “You fall off my building in some sort of trance, and the next time I see you you're running around the city at night.” He crossed his arms. “With a dagger. In the rain. What is wrong with you, Takua?”

 

Frantic, Takua grabbed him by the shoulders. “We need to get to Matau! Oran’s dead!”

 

“Oran’s — what!?”

 

Takua spilled the facts as fast as he could. Normally, Raipu wouldn't have given Takua the time of day, but he had Jaka and Talim behind him, swearing to every word. The rain began to pick up, a thunderclap sounded in the distance as Takua spoke, and a slight hum began to reach their ears, carried on the wind. 

 

“The Mask of Shadows?” Raipu was skeptical. “You aren’t pranking me, are you?”

 

“No! We have to go!” Takua clapped his hands together. “Now! Are you coming?”

 

“Alright! Yes! No need to snap.”

 

Takua ignored him, the hum in the air growing louder as he scanned the narrow streets beyond the bridge. They seemed deserted, the rest of Le-Koro must’ve already returned to their homes. “It looks clear,” he muttered. “Okay, everyone, stay close and stay low. And if you see something, say something! I know the fastest way to get to Matua’s house, and — what is that noise?”

 

That buzz, or hum, or… it grew louder. It was everywhere now, coming from the sky itself —

 

“Get down!”

 

Takua whirled around, catching sight of a giant beast hurtling through air. Without thinking he hit the ground, the wind buffeting him as the monster soared overhead, just barely missing his mask. The abrasive buzz of the creature’s wings dimmed, and Takua looked up, watching as it disappeared between the buildings up ahead.

 

“What the — ” he let out, but Jaka’s stuttering voice answered his unfinished question.

 

“R-Rahi…! Nui-Rama!”

 

“Let’s go!” Takua belted as he popped up, and they were off, sprinting again into the empty streets.

 

Confused and terrified, Takua watched the skies as they moved, that hum growing ever louder — and he saw another flying Rahi descend from the clouds. And then another! Eyes widening in disbelief, Takua moved fast and low, scanning the dark clouds as more rain started to fall, more Nui-Rama appeared from the clouds. They landed on rooftops, flying through the streets, grabbing and biting and tearing at anything that wasn’t chained down. The back of his mind knew what was happening, but he didn’t want to believe it. A swarm… of Nui-Rama… it couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be happening!

 

“This can’t be happening!”

 

“This way!” Takua shouted back, silencing Jaka before he could start panicking. He weaved into an alleyway close to the city center, checking that Jaka, Talim, Raipu — yes, they were still together. The alley was narrow and free from Rahi… but it was dark. Takua felt his spine prickle as he ushered his friends through, watching every shadow, fearing that any one of them might start moving. If Saku could kill half a dozen members of the Gukko force, he should have no problem finding a handful of Matoran.

 

Takua shook his head. He shouldn’t think like that. Maybe the mysterious being wasn’t as powerful as he seemed. They could still get out of this, and Matau would protect them. They would be safe, once they were with him.

 

Within minutes they were out of the alleyway and had entered the square, and with one last dash they flew past the Twisted Nail, past the suva-shaped fountain, and skidded to a halt at the base of Le-Koro’s largest tree. Then, with eyes always alert, always on the lookout for Rahi, they climbed. Up the ladder, up to Matau’s home, and as Takua’s boots hit the platform’s solid wood, he didn’t pause to knock. With a thud his shoulder hit the door and he stumbled in — only to freeze at the feel of protosteel at his throat. 

 

“Oh… it's you.”

 

The blade withdrew, but Takua didn’t move. Taking a deep breath, he watched with wide eyes as Kokani nonchalantly walked away, trying to comprehend how he could be so calm after almost beheading someone.

 

“Come,” Kokani called, glancing over his shoulder at the group of frazzled Matoran. “Matau is out here.”

 

“You just…!” Takua found his words. “You could’ve just killed me!”

 

But Kokani paid him no mind. “This way,” he motioned.

 

After exchanging a brief, bewildered look with Jaka, the four followed him through Matau’s living room, exiting through a sliding back door. There, they found themselves on a bare platform, high above the city, pelted by the now-constant rain. And there was Matau, whirling around at the sound of their boots, his worried Matatu lighting up at the sight of them.

 

“Praise Mata Nui you’re all right!” he spoke, and in a flurry of green armor he had moved to embrace Takua, his frail arms offering more comfort than expected.

 

“Turaga…” Takua mumbled, disheveled from what he had seen, but he took a deep breath and returned the embrace. Thankful for the brief moment of peace, he didn’t care what his friends might think of him. He needed this… and he needed this to last. But it didn’t.

 

Matau pushed him back, holding him by the shoulders and staring into his Pakari. “Where are the others?” 

 

Takua looked up. “Others?” 

 

“Oran, and his guards! The ones I sent to protect you!”

 

And Takua swallowed, the uncomfortable images coming forward again. His answer was short. “They’re dead.”

 

Kokani slammed his fist against the wall in frustration. “He must have known. We have to move, Matau.”

 

“Move…?”

 

“You’re right, you’re right…” Matau mumbled before standing tall and starting to pace. “Are your bags packed? Have you heard from Tui? Find her and take her with you, Kokani. Having a healer on the road will — ”

 

“No!” Takua yelled, and everyone stopped and looked at him. The rain drummed against the platform as all was quiet for a moment. He stared defiantly at Matau, lip almost quivering as thunder rumbled across the sky. “Tell me…” he demanded, before calming his voice and starting again. “…Tell me what’s going on.” 

 

But the question would go unanswered. There was a sudden rush of wind, and out of nowhere a giant shape flew over their heads. Takua instinctively covered his mask, catching the tail end of a colossal, insectoid Rahi just as it missed the roof of Matau’s house. Its four wings loudly buzzing, it swirled around, revealing giant mandibles and clawed arms. Like the Nui-Rama but even larger — if such a thing were possible — the Rahi didn’t pause before flying at them again.

 

“Nui-Kopen!” Kokani yelled as he cast aside his cloak, revealing once more his long, bladed staff. “Stay down!” he commanded.

 

Takua watched as the great insect rushed forward, narrowly missing Kokani as he rolled out of the way, thrusting his staff upward halfway through his dodge. The blade pierced the rain, its razor-sharp edge slicing clean through one of the Nui-Kopen’s outstretched arms. Purple blood splattered Takua’s boots as the dismembered appendage flopped to the platform just a few feet away. It twitched.

 

Jaka screamed in disgust. The Nui-Kopen screeched in pain. Kokani was silent.

 

“Inside! Inside!”

 

Matau was ushering them back to the door, but Takua found himself slow to move. He’d never seen anything like this before, and the clawed, twitching, insectoid arm commanded his attention. He stumbled forward as Talim pulled at his arm, snapping back to his senses just before —

 

“Down!”

 

Takua hit the platform once more, wind and water spraying his mask as the massive Rahi dived again, enraged from its injury. Making a beeline for Kokani, the Nui-Kopen’s weight slammed into the Ko-Matoran as he tried to dodge just a second too late. The beast’s claws wrapped around him, carrying him off the platform and into open air. Takua could only stare as the two tumbled through the sky, the sheets of rain almost obscuring their airborne battle, until….

 

“No…no, no!”

 

Stress overcame Matau’s voice as their dark silhouetted fell into the trees, crashing through so many branches, until both were out of sight. 

 

Matau mumbled to himself now, at a loss as more Rahi appeared, as more Nui-Rama emerged through the clouds and rain and rustling leaves. And the realization began to dawn on Takua: everything wasn’t going to be alright. Oran was dead. Tui was missing. And Matau was… he was losing control of his city.

 

Bwaaaam!

 

A deep bass note sounded as someone somewhere blew upon Le-Koro’s great warning shells, calling to arms all who could fight. It echoed, slowly spreading through the city as other guard posts heard it, each sounding their own response with their own shells. Takua knew that everywhere, guards and Gukko Force members would be donning armor and raising spears, ready to defend their city at all costs… but it didn’t seem to matter.

 

He could hear civilians now, running through the streets, screaming as they tried to protect their homes, as the Rahi began to penetrate their windows and walls. And there… was that a Kane-Ra? The giant bull-Rahi trampled through the streets, its powerful horns tearing through wood and brick and metal. Rubble and debris flew through the air, littering Le-Koro’s square as shock began to hijack Takua’s mind.

 

“How did this happen…?”

 

Takua wished the words had come from anyone but Matau.

 

He watched as a Nui-Rama swooped down, smashing through the awning of Boro’s Bakery. He watched as the Kane-Ra’s horns tore through the Twisted Nail, exposing the terrified Matoran inside. He watched as pockets of guards tried to repel the beasts, only to be trampled into the ground, to be skewered by horns, teeth, and claws. He watched it all from his platform — safe, high in the trees, an island of calm in a sea of chaos. And he could only think about how helpless he was.

 

“Takua, we have to go!”

 

Suddenly Jaka was shaking him, but he didn’t want to move. The images of his home falling apart, of his life dissolving, of his innocence burning — it all played on repeat before his eyes.

 

“Takua, come on!”

 

“Saku is coming, Takua.”

 

And it was only the name of the mysterious being that forced him from his daze. He turned to look at Matau. The Turaga’s gaze was solemn.

 

“We have to leave before he finds you.”

 

But even then Takua didn’t move. Instead, he stood his ground, locking eyes with Matau as his friends pulled at his shoulders, as confusion began to write itself on his mask. “…You knew he was coming?”

 

“I knew, Takua. Ever since we found the Storyteller… I knew.”

 

“Then why… why didn’t you…?”

 

“Know that I didn’t want to, Takua,” Matau shook his head as the wind began to howl, as the sheets of rain fell heavier. It forced the Turaga to raise his voice. “Know that I never wanted to. I wanted to ferry you away the instant we knew, to smuggle you out silently to somewhere both you and the Atouri would be safe.”

 

“What are you talking about!?” Takua suddenly let out, his stretched patience snapping, his respect and manners finally falling away. “Smuggle me away!? You never answer my questions, Matau! Don’t I deserve that!? What are you — !?”

 

“It was a trap, Takua!” Matau put his foot down, silencing the young Le-Matoran once again. “That’s why I had you surrounded by guards. Guards who were always out of sight, always protecting you, always watching and waiting for Saku to arrive so we could ambush him! And I never wanted to put you in harm’s way, but this is far beyond either you or I. This was decided by all six Turaga for the sake of all six Koro and every Matoran living on this island. Because if we could capture Saku…” he paused to take a breath, his Mahiki lined with age, exhaustion, and guilt. “…It would mean placing the fate of Mata Nui back into our own hands.”

 

But Takua hardly heard him. He only stood there as his shoulders and his heart sank, pulled down by the many pieces of his fractured trust. “…You used me,” he quietly concluded. “You used me as bait.”

 

“I used you, Takua,” Matau admitted before steeling himself again. “Because I trust you. Because I know you’re strong enough to carry that burden.”

 

Thunder cracked as the rain died down for a moment, the wind still swirling as Takua stared at the Turaga he’d thought he knew. Smoke began to rise from the trees as buildings started to burn, as forges and fireplaces were destroyed by Rahi. And Takua tried to find words, he tried to find something to say to Matau… but much like the city around him, he had very little fight left.

 

“We have to go, Takua,” came Talim’s voice.

 

“She’s right, we have to go,” Matau responded, avoiding Takua’s eyes. “Every moment we stay here is another moment we risk being found. Come. If we leave — ”

 

“Oh, it’s already too late for that, Matau.”

 

Takua spun around at the sound of the voice, and fear instantly replaced his emotions. Saku stood at the other end of the platform, the Mask of Shadows grinning as thunder rumbled through the dark sky.

Edited May 29 by ZOMBI3S

[ZOMBI3S]

Chapter 10 - Air and Shadow

 

There was a whirl of green armor, and Matau had thrown his arms in front of Takua, placing himself between the Matoran and Saku. The rain tapped his armor as Talim gasped, as Jaka anxiously gulped, as Raipu stared wide-eyed, not believing what was happening. Takua fidgeted, remembering the dagger at his waist — but did he have the strength to use it?

 

“You will not take him!”

 

Matau’s voice carried over the storm, but Saku said nothing in reply. He turned, leisurely walking along the length of the platform, revealing that he hadn’t come alone. Another figure stood behind him, the likes of which Takua had never seen. Fully armored, it was broad-shouldered and tall — almost as tall as Saku — and it carried itself with the pride of a warrior. Long arms supported large, clawed hands, and a pair of intimidating mandibles twitched at its jaw, accenting its angular, insectoid head. It stepped out of the shadows and Takua saw its armor shine gold, laced, all over with red warpaint — a choice meant to be seen. And feared. 

 

“A war is coming, Matau,” Saku spared a brief nod toward the golden warrior. “But you only need to step out of the way, and this doesn’t have to get any worse.”

 

“Take your minions elsewhere,” Matau spat, as if the sight of the being disgusted him. “This is between you and I now. Kryll have no place here.”

 

Takua looked from the golden warrior to Saku, then back again. He’d heard stories about the Kryll, in shady taverns by dim lightstones, or at dusk by dying campfires. It was said they were warriors, raiders, savages, that they roamed northern Mata Nui, preying upon unsuspecting travelers, leaving nothing but blood in their wake. But south of the Mangai, in Le-Wahi and lands beyond, they were nothing more than a scary story. A chilling anecdote, told at nightfall to keep little ones from misbehaving. Or at least, that’s what they’d always been to Takua. Until now. 

 

Saku chuckled, an arrogant, chilling sound that effortlessly mocked the Turaga. “Come on, Matau, have some respect. Don’t you realize you’re speaking to a king?”

 

“The Kryll have no king.”

 

“Tell that to the Kryll.”

 

Matau glowered, and Takua could see his body tense. His fingers flexed, his boots gripped the platform, ready to move as he retorted. “It doesn’t matter. You won’t claim him.”

 

And Saku raised his chin, disappointed that Matau wasn’t playing his game. “Don’t be a fool, Matau…” he narrowed his eyes, their orange glowing ominously behind the Mask of Shadows. “…We can still talk this out.”

 

“You and I both know that’s not going to happen, Toa.”

 

Takua’s mind flickered. A Toa?

 

And the air exploded.

 

Matau released a pulse from his body, so strong and fast it caught Takua off guard, sending him crashing to the floor as it rattled the roof of Matau’s house. But as the immense gust crashed into Saku, the Toa didn't move. Strain showed on his face as he dug down, bracing himself, but the blast quickly passed, and he was unharmed. Standing back up to his full height, he eyed the Turaga, the taunting confidence on his mask morphing into anger.

 

“As you wish,” he muttered.

 

He rushed forward, both fists channeling shadow energy, and before Takua could blink he was hurling crackling bolts of shadow at Matau, who suddenly stood on the balls of his feet, and — as if he had been faking his frail demeanor — dodged them with amazing speed. He whirled around, nimbly ducking and twirling as the energy flew past his mask, and in a few quick strides he caught Saku in the stomach with a solid punch, reinforced with a bolt of air. Saku gagged, stumbling for a brief second, before launching his assault again.

 

Takua stared, mouth agape as they fought with speed impossible to any Matoran, exchanging blows and dodging others in barely any time at all. He watched with fear and awe from where he knelt, all the while the golden Kryll eyed him and his friends, as if making sure they didn’t interfere. Pulses of shadow and air flew this way and that as the opponents struck and jumped and dodged and struck again. Takua had no idea Matau possessed this kind of speed and power. The flurry of attacks soon became unreadable.

 

But with a sudden blast of shadow the two flew apart, and Matau stumbled dangerously close the edge of the platform. His posture was slumped, his breathing heavy, and Takua could see his age again.

 

“Give up, Matau,” Saku called out as their momentum paused. He raised his both arms, presenting himself before Matau and the raging storm.  “You can't win.”

 

The rain pelted him, and the tiny pings of water against armor echoing in his voice. Then, tired of waiting for Matau’s reply, he took a step forward — and then came the Turaga’s rebuttal.

 

Whoosh!

 

Saku braced himself, shielding himself against a wall of incoming air. Matau’s attack slammed into him, threatening to knock the Toa off his feet, but he gritted his teeth and gripped the platform, not allowing it to move him. It passed and he was unharmed, so he stood tall again, smirking.

 

“Still here,” his eyes laughed.

 

Matau panted, wordless against Saku’s jeer. He released another pulse of air, this time catching him off guard, and the Toa slid, stumbling back just a few feet. But it was the foothold he needed. He attacked again, sending a narrow spear of air flying through the rain, meeting its mark on Saku’s shoulder as it punctured his armor. The Toa let out a cry of pain, and Matau ran with it.

 

He whirled around, throwing his arms forward as he unleashed three more spears. The first deflected of Saku’s forearm, but it threw off his balance so the next could pierce his thigh. And that sent Saku to one knee, allowing the last to meet its mark, square in the chest.

 

Saku gasped as he sank down, and Takua saw a small crack in his chest armor. He looked to Matau, glimpsing hope, and saw the slight smirk on his mask — but he also saw the toll. Sweat coated his brow, visible even through the rain, and something told Takua that no matter how things seemed to be going, it mattered that Matau wasn’t a Toa. He was a Turaga — only a Turaga — and controlling his element sapped his strength.

 

Saku could see it too. He took Matau’s moment of rest to crack his neck and roll his shoulders, to re-orient, and will himself back to his feet. He rose again, the Mask of Shadows scowling, seeing Matau’s labored breathing, knowing that now was the time. He put his feet down, readying himself once again as he advanced.

 

Whoosh!

 

Air pummeled him as Matau retaliated, but Saku planted his feet down, fighting through it, staying his position. He took another step towards the Turaga, and Matau blasted him again, but the Turaga’s attacks didn’t seem to have the same power as before. Instead of pushing him away, forcing him to grip the platform with all his strength, it was just another gust of wind.

 

Matau was weakening.

 

Saku gained a few more steps as Matau tried to repel him, and Takua watched as the tide of their battle turned. He had to do something. Before his eyes, it became apparent that Matau was losing. He had to move, he had to step in and act somehow. But how could he fight a Toa? But he had to do something!

 

Whoosh!

 

Letting loose another barrage, Matau winced. His arms were shaking now, and Takua knew his stamina was almost gone. Sweat covered his body, and his frail demeanor was returning, all too fast. He flinched as Saku’s armored boot hit the platform, stealing another precious few feet of space. The sounds of soldiers, fighting and dying, drifted up from the city below.

 

Takua’s mind screamed at his body — he had to do something! But no, his limbs wouldn’t move. His eyes saw the Toa, his midnight armor glimmering as lightning cracked. And then there was the Kryll, with red warpaint smeared all over, eyeing him, a scimitar clutched in its claws. Who was he to fight against these beings? These seasoned, armored warriors? What could he possibly do? 

 

Saku each to his back, fingers closing around his bladed staff, channeling his shadow power into it. The blade turned a blackish-purple and started to crackle, charged with foul energy. Another burst of air from Matau, another slight hesitation, and he took another two steps forward. Only a dozen feet now separated the beings, and the distance was closing.

 

Takua saw the pain on Matau’s mask. He shuddered, on the edge between action and paralysis, wanting desperately to step forward, but too terrified to do so. The Toa’s cracking blade, the twitching of Matau’s muscles, the relentless storm around them… everything told him it was now or never. He grimaced, steeling himself, powering through fear as he arose, drawing his dagger — and Matau made his move.

 

A brief clench of his jaw was the only warning.

 

The air exploded, the shingles on Matau’s roof rippling into the air, the very rain thrusted away as Takua was blown off his feet to the edge of the platform. Anything not tied down was gone, driven out of sight as the Kryll hit Matau’s wall, as Talim and Jaka and Raipu clutched each other for support. The massive burst slammed into Saku, who caught its full force, before Takua was forced to shut his eyes.

 

Gripping the platform, feeling his ankles dangling into open air, Takua lay still for a moment, catching his breath. The rain returned to his mask. The wind of the storm brushed him. And Takua opened his eyes.

 

Saku was still there.

 

“No…”

 

Barely able to stand, Matau wheezed as he swayed back and forth, unsteady on his feet. He looked up, the Toa of Shadow standing before him, rising taller now that the assault was done. The Toa held his crackling staff, taking a deep, satisfied breath before he moved for the Turaga, unchallenged. The Kraahkan on his face twisted into a smile they stood, face to face. His voice was calm, and chilling.

 

“…Sorry it had to be this way.”

 

Takua watched in horror as he plunged the blade into Matau's chest, tearing through armor and flesh. The Turaga stumbled back, a silent gasp releasing as his mask went pale. And a mere moment later, Saku unceremoniously ripped the steel from his body.

 

The Turaga seemed to hang in the air as he swayed with the rain, arms outstretched. The expression on his face slowly calmed as he looked at the young Matoran holding the Atouri from across the platform.

 

"Takua... I'm so sorry." 

 

And he tumbled off the edge of the platform.

Edited June 17 by ZOMBI3S

[ZOMBI3S]

Chapter 11 - Tears

 

Matau was gone.
 

Takua knelt, silent, staring at the space where the Turaga had just inhabited. Matau… the one who’d raised him. His lifelong friend. His mentor. The Turaga of Le-Koro. He’d always been there for him, always been able to help if he needed it. Whenever something had come up, he’d always been able to go find Matau, and ask for his advice. And… where had he gone? Takua clutched his mask, hands trembling as he stared at the empty air. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be a dream.

 

This can’t be happening!

 

And he would’ve broken down. He would have lost it if the world hadn’t stopped, then and there.  The entire platform darkened as shadow surrounded it, whirling and churning in a sudden, otherworldly spectacle. And with it, out of nowhere, and with no source — or maybe the source was all around them — a voice, sounded. 

 

"And so the final chapter of Turaga Matau is written. As his part in our tale… has ended."

 

It was an old voice. A deep, rumbling sound, ancient, powerful, sinister — and brimming with madness. And then, like a ghost, a Matoran materialized in the middle of the platform.

 

A simple Matoran, who wore a simple Hau, but as its yellow eyes met Takua’s gaze, he knew this was no ordinary being. It was… the shadow of a Matoran. A perfect reflection, seen through a black mirror of corruption. Colorless, skeletal, rusted… and, now that Takua had a moment to take it in — there seemed to be nothing alive about it. There was no warmth or emotion, no spirit behind those yellow eyes, but instead, it possessed a cold, calculating, hateful gaze. It was a mechanical being, that reeked of infection. A being… Takua swallowed, not wanting to admit what he knew on instinct, even to himself. But he knew it nonetheless — this was a being of pure darkness.

 

It moved, shimmering, as a ghost who wasn’t truly there, and Takua felt stick to his stomach. He held his breath, staring, mesmerized by the sight of the twisted being. He wanted to vomit, to run away, to hide underneath his bed… but all he could do was stare at the horrifying creature before him. A thought began to well up inside him, growing like a parasite, and slowly, he began to piece together who he looked at. Slowly, he realized the true horror of the being that stood before him.

 

Makuta.

 

Saku sank to one knee and bowed his head for the infected Matoran, who paid him little notice in return. The Kryll, however, kept its gaze fixed on Takua on and his friends. The ghostly Matoran walked to the edge of the platform, gazing out to the burning city, as the sounds of chaos wafted up to them.

 

“Look out at your home, Takua,” he addressed the Le-Matoran without turning. “Look at what I’ve done.”

 

The stone around Takua’s neck glinted in the rain, and as the Infected Matoran talked to him as if he had known Takua his entire life, he suddenly couldn't take it. "Stop!" Takua yelled, standing suddenly, raising his dagger and pointing it, shakily, ahead. “Who are you!?" he pleaded, even though he already knew.  "Why? Why are you doing this!?”

 

The Matoran turned, and its eyes glinted as he watched the stone dangle from Takua's neck. "We’re here for you, Takua. And the Atouri."

 

"…How do you know my name?"

 

Pain hit Takua’s side as an unseen blow made its mark. He fell to the ground, sliding a few feet before coming to a stop underneath the Kryll's blade. It spoke to him in a clear, deep voice, sprinkled with hatred.

 

“Matoran have no place to speak amongst gods.”

 

And it was then that Jaka found his courage. He stood up, opening his mouth. “Let him go!”

 

But with a twitch of his hand Saku released a bolt of shadow that slammed into Jaka, knocking him back, into Raipu. Takua watched from where he lay as his friends fell, without any effort from their enemies. Whatever was going to happen… there was nothing that could save them.

 

Talim now stood alone, and she turned to face the rusted Matoran. Water glinted in her eyes as she spoke. “Please, just… just let us leave. You can have whatever you want, but let us go. We’ve done nothing to you.”

 

The Infected Matoran’s gaze moved to her, still emotionless, and calculating. “…You have much light inside of you.” There was a whirl of shadow, and suddenly the rusted figure was beside her, circling, a wolf around its prey. “What is your name, little one?”

 

She paused, breathing before replying. “…Talim.” Her voice shook.

 

The Hau twisted into a smile as the being flickered. “You’re the one who found him,” he said, motioning to Takua. “All those years ago?” 

 

She hesitated, but eventually swallowed, and nodded.

 

Takua fidgeted, tried to get up as he felt for his danger, but he was stopped by the Kryll’s blade. “Don’t touch her!” he yelled, but his side split with pain as the Kryll kicked him, and once again he was wordless, writhing on the ground.

 

The Infected Matoran paid Takua no attention, the yellow eyes still fixed on Talim. Her bottom lip quivered as she stared straight ahead, not making eye contact. “You’re the one who’s always been there. You’re the one he holds so dear....” The Matoran circled to stand in front of her, his rusty mask just inches from hers. “It would be a shame to lose something so…” the figure’s palms met cheeks, and Talim winced as they passed straight through her, revealing that the Infected Matoran… it wasn’t actually present. “…Treasured.”

 

“Don’t touch her!” Takua yelled again.

 

The Infected Matoran smiled at Takua’s anger, but it left Talim as she was. “What do you fear, Takua?”

 

Still at the mercy of the Kryll’s blade, Takua looked around for an escape. He had to get free, but if he even twitched the blade moved closer to his throat. He didn’t reply.

 

“Is it pain? Death?”

 

The Infected Matoran moved to him, as Saku moved towards Talim. But still, Takua refused to answer the question. He focused his mind, determined on finding a distraction, or any other way to escape the Kryll's blade. He had to get up, he knew that now. Even if he didn’t stand a chance, he had to fight. He refused to go down like this.

 

“Or is it something more personal? The loss of your friends? The knowledge that… you are alone in this world?”

 

Saku now stood over Talim as she backed into the wall of the Turaga’s house. She looked past the Toa, and her eyes briefly met Takua’s.

 

“Do you fear the darkness, Takua?”

 

Takua looked up at the infected Hau, and the world stood still. The howling winds and rain were gone as Takua looked from the infected being that stood above him, to Talim’s blue eyes, strong amidst her fear. He felt the cold steel at his throat, the water dripping from his armor, the splintering wood of the platform beneath him. The Atouri pressed against his chest as he looked at Talim, completely helpless. He felt his heart, beating loud within his chest.

 

Thump-thp. 

 

“No,” he replied.

 

“Oh,” the Hau smiled. “…So unwise.”

 

Saku grasped Talim directly over her heart, and she screamed. Energy poured out of her as the Toa’s face lit up with sheer joy. Random bolts of shadow flew from them, blasting into the platform and the surrounding trees. The attack increased in intensity, until Talim’s scream died out, and all that was left was the look of death upon her face. More and more energy the Toa stole from her, until finally, he released his grip — and Talim crumpled to the platform.

 

The sound of her body hitting the floor pierced Takua’s chest.

 

He stared, eyes wide as her mask lost its color, the light fading from her eyes — and her mouth began to move. She began to mumble to herself, her lips moving constantly as she repeated one word — a name — over and over:

 

Takua.

 

“…No!” he screamed. With the strength and speed that only rage and reflexes could provide, he forced the Kryll's blade off him and ran at Saku with nothing but his fists. “I’ll kill you!" he screamed. "I’ll kill you!”

 

The Toa turned his head, briefly meeting his enraged eyes, but with a flick of his wrist, a blast of shadow slammed into Takua’s chest. The air forced out of his lungs, he fell to the ground, sliding to the edge of the platform as he wheezed, his chest burning. He heaved, gulping for air, the sudden strength and anger gone, replaced with a single, cold, hard fact — he was helpless. Takua gazed up at the lightning-streaked sky, the rain washing over him, breath slowly returning as his vision coming back into focus.

 

How…? His brain tried to make sense of it. Just a few hours ago, he’d been living his normal life. Just this morning, his biggest problem had been going to work. And now… as the rain pelted against his mask, he realized his life was over. The rain fell upon his armor, washing away his strength, his will to fight, his home, his friends… and it left him with nothing. Tears began to fall freely from his eyes, as he couldn’t help but wonder — why?

 

“You are the product of the Prophecies, the one who would travel many miles and accomplish great deeds.” He heard the Infected Matoran speak. “You were born out of nothing, and so it is into nothing that you will go. You hold my heart in your grasp — and I would have it back, Takua.”

 

His body aching, Takua struggled to his knees. He looked down at the Atouri, shimmering as the lightning flashed above. He filled his lungs, and let go a deep sigh, loosening his fingers, letting the stone fall from his grasp. With a clatter it hit the platform and rolled to a stop. His home was gone. Matau was gone. Talim was gone. And for what? Nothing.

 

It was all for nothing. 

 

“What’s going to happen now?” Rain dripped off his mask, and Takua looked to the Infected Matoran. “Please, just… give me that. Nothing else really matters anymore.”

 

The Matoran bent to look Takua in the eyes. It was strange; the yellow eyes of this being who had brought him so much pain… they weren’t so different from his. Takua gazed into them, and somewhere deep inside, instead of hatred and anger, he found acceptance, and he felt at home. The Matoran spoke, and the voice wasn’t brimming with madness anymore. It was calming, and he spoke to Takua as if he were an equal.

 

“Come with us, Takua. There is nothing for you here.”

 

And slowly, Takua nodded. He didn’t move as shadow welled up around him. He didn't resist as the tendrils of darkness pulled at his limbs. They wrapped around him, embracing, pulling, pulling him down. He fell to the ground. The shadow spread all over his body as the very wood beneath him opened to the void. He slowly sank into it, feeling his mind slip away. Little by little, the sounds of wind and rain faded, until he could hear nothing at all.

 

But then, somewhere… he heard a whisper. A tiny whisper, just barely discernable. 

 

You reside with light, but you must be careful.

 

Takua’s vision flickered, and went hazy. He wasn’t aware of much anything going on, but he thought he heard the clash of steel as his mind began to slow.

 

The closer you are to the light, the greater your shadow is cast.

 

A blurry white figure came into his vision, just before he went blind.

 

But don't be afraid.

 

There was movement around him, a blink of chaos in the calm of darkness.

 

The stars will guide you on your journey.

 

Someone held him, and he felt strong arms carry him away.

 

For you hold the greatest power of all.

 

His mind shut down, and finally, he rested.

 

You are the one who will bring back the balance.

 

~End of Part I~

Edited June 17 by ZOMBI3S

[ZOMBI3S]

 

Chapter 1 - The Cold, Hard World

 

Takua opened his eyes. 

 

There was… a mass in front of him. Grayish-brown, and spreading across his entire field of vision, it was massive, indiscriminate, and without definite form. He squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again, his vision returning slightly sharper, and his gaze moved upward. Here, the mass was smoother, and more reddish-brown in color. The sudden change of its appearance triggered activity in Takua’s brain, and he squinted, staring, as thought began to return to him.

 

He stared at a dirt wall. With an animal skin stretched over it.

 

The skin was presumably for insulation, yet he was… warm? That was confusing. If insulation was needed, why was he warm? He pondered that dichotomy for a moment, before turning his attention to other things, such as the state of his body. He was lying on something soft, something that contoured to his shape, and something fuzzy was draped over him.

 

Something… fuzzy?

 

That didn’t make much sense. And it didn’t make sense that everything was so hard to make sense of. And thinking about thinking just led Takua down a path of more confusion, so he forced his mind to return to the matter at hand. He lay there, staring at the skin-covered dirt wall, pondering his situation for a few minutes.

 

He was in a bed. With fur blankets.

 

Feeling ambitious at his discovery, he turned over so he faced the ceiling. It was also dirt, which led him to conclude he was in some kind of burrow-dwelling. Propping himself up on his arms, he took his first real look at the place. The burrow was circular. Various parts of the walls were covered with similar animal skins, lending a rustic feel to the place. A fire crackled in the stone fireplace on the opposite wall, and a narrow doorway was cut out just before Takua's bed, another thick fur serving as a door. 

 

He liked this place. It had a comfortable, homey feel to it. 

 

In fact, Takua felt good. After a great night's sleep, he felt energized and ready to go out and explore the world. It called his name, and he was ready to meet the challenge. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he threw back the covers and stretched his arms wide, cracking his back between the shoulder blades. 

 

Ah, he stretched. That feels better.

 

Wait… no it didn't. It was cold. It was really cold. It was freezing! This wasn't Le-Koro at all! With all his speed he swiveled his legs back onto the bed and curled into a ball, reaching for the blanket that now lay at his feet. 

 

"No… come back," he pleaded with the covers as they slipped out of his fingers.

 

After what seemed like forever — but was really only seconds — he pulled the blanket over him. It warmed him steadily until his core returned to a comfortable temperature, and he stared at the fire, frowning, trying again to understand this strange place he found himself in.

 

“Mata Nui,” he half-cursed to himself. He wasn't too fond of the temperature here. Wherever ‘here’ was.

 

The fur concealing the doorway flipped open as someone entered the room, and Takua looked up, seeing a Le-Matoran about his age. He wore a Kakama, and hints of amber spoke out against the deep green of his armor. A bulky, fur coat was draped around his shoulders. 

 

"Takua!" Jaka’s eyes lit up at the sight of him, and he ran to the bed, throwing his arms around his startled friend.

 

"Aah! Hi! What's going on? Why are you hugging me?"

 

"Mata Nui, you had me so worried!"

 

"Worried?"

 

“I wasn’t sure you were ever going to wake up!”

 

“I know I like to sleep but… come on,” Takua let out as his friend released him, and he looked into Jaka’s mask. There, he saw pure, honest relief, along with the dirt and grime from days of travel. Faint lines of stress crossed his Kakama, only now fading away. Takua took him in, pausing as he realized he was missing something. “…Why? How long was I out?”

 

“Um,” Jaka’s scratched his head. “Honestly? I’ve lost track of the days. Maybe a week?”

 

“A week!?” Takua sputtered. “No, that can’t be right. It was just yesterday when we were in Le-Koro, and — ”

 

He stopped short. For it was only then that Takua recalled the past. 

 

The whirling storm, the Rahi, the Kryll, Saku, and the Infected Matoran… all of it seemed like a bad dream. In his head he saw Matau's broken body, falling off that platform, and Talim's crumpled shape, twitching on the ground. He saw the ruins of the Twisted Nail, the fountain he’d grown up around, and suddenly the dream was all too real. He didn't want to think about it. He couldn’t think about, for he felt the grief, the stress, welling up in his chest — and he didn't want Jaka to see him like that.

 

"Why is it so cold?" he asked, redirecting his thoughts to other matters.

 

The corners of Jaka's mouth slid up as he pulled a fur coat off the wall and handed it to Takua. "Come see for yourself."

 

Throwing the hefty fur around his shoulders, Takua got out of bed, following Jaka as he led them through the doorway. They entered a small tunnel, only a dozen feet long, that dead-ended into a wall of snow. With a firm kick, the snow gave way to Jaka's foot, and light poured in. Stepping out into the daylight, Takua was met with a beautiful sight.

 

They stood upon a mountain slope, covered with fresh, virgin snow. Ahead, a vast mountain range stretched as far as the eye could see, the horizon composed of rock that reached even higher than they were now. The midday sun shone off the snow and the occasional black cliff face, making the mountains glow. The air smelled clean and sweet, and as Takua inhaled his first breath of fresh air, he could almost taste the watery texture of the powder that covered his feet.

 

"…Wow," he let out, at a loss for words.

 

"Right there," Jaka said, pointing at a peak on the horizon. "That's Mount Ihu, the highest point on the entire island."

 

Takua marveled for a few minutes, taking in the beautiful, yet alien landscape. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen. The peaks, the troughs, the feel of the air in his lungs… it was all so different from home. Le-Koro was —

 

He swallowed, his mind again returning to the past. No amount of beauty could make him forget that. 

 

“…Jaka?” 

 

"Yeah?"

 

"What happened back there?"

 

Jaka let out a sigh. "Come back inside. You must be hungry. And… there are a lot of things that need to be said."

 

Upon returning to the earthen room, Jaka opened a small storage door on the far wall Takua hadn't noticed before. He took out a bundle of cloth and unwrapped it, revealing a few strips of jerky. Takua accepted one, and bit into it. It was tough and stale, but at least it was food. He was hungry, ravenous even, now that he spared some thought for it.

 

"It was Kokani who saved us." 

 

Takua continued to stare at his jerky, frowning. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the Ko-Matoran. Even after everything that had happened, Matau and Kokani had used him, and… he wasn’t sure if he could forget that, Not yet, at least.

 

"If it wasn’t for him, I’m sure none of us would be here now," Jaka paused. “What do you remember?”

 

"I remember..." Takua searched his thoughts. "I remember darkness. But I could feel someone holding me. Where is he now?"

 

"Out hunting with Raipu. We're low on food."

 

"Raipu's here?"

 

"Yeah," Jaka relaxed and sat with his back to the fire, warming himself. He paused again, as if he didn’t have anything else to say. The fire crackled and popped for a few moments, and it seemed as if the two Matoran were lost in thought, but then Jaka opened his mouth, rapidly spilling out words as his voice cracked. "I’m really sorry I couldn’t help. I know you were trying to fight them and I was going to help, I wanted to help! But…” he averted his gaze, choosing to look at the ground. “But I froze up. I’m sorry.”

 

"Don't be sorry. It's not your fault." Takua replied quickly, staring at the jerky in his grasp. But in his head… Talim crumpled to the ground. Matau fell away.

 

There was silence before Jaka went on. He cleared his throat, swallowing noisily, his voice returning to normal, clearly feeling it was his duty to inform Takua of everything that had come to pass. “But…” he swallowed again. “ But Kokani showed up. He fought Saku, and… took you out of that Matoran's spell, just in time. And then we stuck together. We picked up you and Talim, got Raipu to his feet… and we ran."

 

“Is… Talim here?”

 

“No.”

 

“Where is she?”

 

“A remote village. On the Le-Ko border,” Jaka let out before pausing, but Takua’s lime eyes locked onto his mask, begging for more information. Jaka yielded it. “We met up with a few other survivors. Tui, and Alani were there. And… they promised to look after her. But Kokani said we had to keep moving. So… we parted ways.”

 

Takua’s eyes flicked away from his friend, concentrating again on the jerky. There was another long pause in Jaka’s words, as if he was waiting for some kind of response, for some kind of reaction from Takua — but he had nothing to say. 

 

"I'm… really really sorry."

 

Her eyes, devoid of light. Her lips, repeating his name, over and over. "…It's fine."

 

And they sat there, Takua eating his jerky, and Jaka with his back to the fire, rubbing his arms to fend off the chill. Silence settled on the space between them, and it seemed no one had anything else to say. The air grew thicker, heavier, even claustrophobic, before Jaka got to his feet, sparing a second to pat Takua on the shoulder. And then he left the room, silently choosing to give Takua space.

 

But Takua didn’t look up. He took another bite of his jerky, continuing to stare at the stick of meat, slowly, relentlessly, chewing. The cold, hard sinew stuck to the inside of his mouth, and he couldn't help but think about how perfect it was. How fitting the cold, hard jerky was, for this cold, hard world. 

 

Swallowing, he continued to glare at it, a scowl forming on his mask.

 

Why!?

 

He threw the jerky against the wall, lowered his head into his hands, and cried.

Edited July 26 by ZOMBI3S

[ZOMBI3S]

Chapter 2 - New Beginnings

 

With nothing to do, Takua and Jaka waited.

 

They passed the time within the mountainside burrow, talking, tending to the fire, and occasionally sitting on the slope outside, watching the snow gently fall. Soon night fell, and the winds began to pick up. The temperature dropped and the snow whirled around the mountaintop, forcing Jaka to rebuild the wall of snow that covered the burrow’s entrance. Safe inside, the two ate a few strips of jerky, and soon fell asleep.

 

Takua’s dreams plagued him. Countless times during the night his mind forced him to relive the loss of his home, and every time it seemed to get worse. First he would watch as the Twisted Nail was destroyed by Rahi, and then there was Matau with Saku’s blade in his chest. Lastly, Talim stared listlessly at him as she twitched, her lips repeating his name.

 

Takua…help me.

 

Thump-thp.

 

He awoke in a sweat, gasping for breath as looked around the room. The dying embers of the fire glowed, silent. Jaka lay against the far wall, fast asleep. The burrow was dark. And quiet.

 

He told himself as he lay back down. It’s just a dream... 

 

By the time they awoke, the storm had receded, once again giving way to the bright blue skies and crisp air of Ko-Wahi. Takua followed Jaka as he once again kicked down the snow barrier, poking his head outside. But then, the Matoran froze.

 

Takua paused, staring at the back of Jaka’s head as he blocked the way out. “…Jaka? You okay?”

 

Jaka pulled his head back into the tunnel. “We can’t go out there. There’s Kryll.”

 

Takua remembered the insect-like being that had held him down in Le-Koro, and felt a twinge of anger. “Let me see,” he asked.

 

“I… think we should stay inside.”

 

“No, let me see.”

 

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

 

“Move, Jaka.”

 

“Alright fine! You can look, just… don’t make any noise,” Jaka said, but Takua had already shuffled passed him, and poked his head out the entrance.

 

Down in the trough where their peak met the adjacent mountain, two figures walked, silhouetted against the white snow. Takua could tell from their long, angular heads and tall bodies that they were Kryll, even though they were hundreds of yards away. They walked at a steady pace, surveying the land around them as they worked their way into a valley, dotted with pine trees.

 

“They’ve been searching for us since they lost our trail outside Le-Koro,” Jaka‘s voice came from over his shoulder. “Kokani thinks they’re working with Saku.”

 

It was hard to make out the details from so far away, but Takua noted the curved blades they carried at their waists. Their armor was the same shape as the Kryll that had been in Le-Koro, albeit these ones weren’t gold. He furrowed his brow, watching them as they trudged through the snow, unaware of their presence, hundreds of feet above.

 

“Do you think they want the Atouri?” Takua asked, and the thought of the stone made him reach for his chest, making sure the it was still in his possession. His fingers closed around it, cool to the touch, calming his hint of anxiety.

 

“I don’t see why else they would care about us.”

 

Takua watched the Kryll, mindlessly tracing his finger along the Atouri’s edges. They moved slowly, obviously scanning, hunting for them, but the snows of the previous night had wiped any trace of their presence from the mountainside. He let out a sigh, his mind beginning to wander, and eventually he turned to ask Jaka another question.

 

“Can you see the jungle from here?”

 

Jaka raised an eyebrow at his sudden change of subject. “Yeah, if you climb to the summit. Why?"

 

“…I was just wondering.”

 

Jaka shrugged before moving back into the burrow, and Takua followed him a moment later. Carefully, they patched up the wall of snow, and the two sat down to stare at the fire. Its orange glow flickered around the room, but despite its warmth, the burrow was dreary. The knowledge that they were being hunted hung heavy on their shoulders, and Takua couldn’t help but feel claustrophobic. He was trapped, underground, unable to leave until the Kryll were well out of sight. 

 

“What do we do now, Jaka?” he asked, his black Pakari reflecting the light of the fire. 

 

Jaka sighed. “I wish I knew.”

 

It was another two days until Kokani and Raipu appeared. 

 

Straining his eyes in the late afternoon sun, Takua watched as their shapes appeared out of the pine-filled valley. The two were carrying a hefty bundle of mountain fish, as well as a few roots and leaves that looked edible. It was a far thing from what he was used to in Le-Koro, but their excursion had been moderately successful, at least. Slowly, the two figures trudged their way up the frozen plain, until finally they met Takua and Jaka as they sat upon the snow, just outside the burrow's entrance. Kokani threw the net of fish on the ground, his eyes scanning Takua. His greeting was without emotion. 

 

"You’re awake,” came the Ko-Matoran’s grizzled voice.

 

“…Apparently,” Takua replied, not quite sure what to say to that.

 

“Well,” Raipu smiled. "It’s about time we had some good news."

 

Takua nodded to the Po-Matoran, happy to see someone else from home. Kokani untangled his net, and recruited their help with wrapping the fish in leather strips he had produced from his pack. In the freezing climate, they would keep for a while. When they were finished, he walked into the den and motioned for the three younger Matoran to follow. Takua soon found himself sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at Kokani as the mysterious Ko-Matoran leaned against the far wall, his bladed staff slung across his back. Takua waited for Kokani to speak, to provide answers, but the moment the Ko-Matoran opened his mouth Takua cut him off, surprising even himself.

 

“You knew the whole time they were coming. Why didn’t you do anything?”

 

Kokani closed his mouth, his icy blue eyes locking onto Takua’s. He looked like a dangerous Rahi for a second, about to lash out at the young Le-Matoran, but in another second it was gone, and he replied, his words calm. “We took a risk, and it didn’t work out. I’m sorry, Takua. I know you’ve lost a lot.”

 

But suddenly Takua couldn’t control himself. “…You took a risk?” he let out. He’d thought he’d gotten over it, in the past few days. He’d thought he would’ve been able to handle this. “Everything I know is gone. Matau and Talim are dead. Because of your risk!”

 

“Do not blame me for your losses, tree-swinger,” Kokani boomed, and Jaka and Raipu winced. “Matau was my friend as well — and if it were not for me you would all be dead.” The strength of his voice lingered in the air, enforcing his dominion over the room. Takua’s eyes widened, taken aback at his sudden ferocity, the sheer power of the Ko-Matoran’s stare immobilizing him. There was silence, his words lingering in the air, and when he continued, his voice was lower, more controlled. “…I expected better manners from one Matau had held so dear.”

 

Takua blinked, Kokani's reaction having forced him from his anger. He breathed, settling his nerves for a moment, realizing that this was not the time to express his emotions. And Kokani was right — he had been rude, especially to someone who had saved his life.

 

“…You’re right — I’m sorry,” he looked away from Kokani. “This has… been a little rough, I guess.”

 

And Kokani nodded, seemingly satisfied with his apology. “Now,” he continued. “Shall I tell you why I have brought you here?”

 

The three exchanged a brief glance, and then nodded.

 

“Turaga Nuju has called for your council. The Atouri must be kept safe, and it is my understanding that he has plans once it arrives in Ko-Koro. I would take it to him myself, but I would rather honor Matau’s decision to make you its keeper,” he said, nodding to Takua. “I shall do my best to honor the wishes of the dead.”

 

Takua swallowed, taking the black stone off his neck and holding it in his palms. “You want us to come with you to Ko-Koro?”

 

“I want you to come with me,” Kokani clarified. “But your friends are welcome as well, so long as they abide by my rules. There is greater safety in numbers.”

 

“Good,” Jaka stood up. “Because Takua’s not going anywhere without me.”

 

Takua let out a slight smile at Jaka’s support. He looked back to Kokani. “And… if I choose not to?”

 

“Then your destiny is yours,” Kokani replied simply. “But my duty will remain. And thus, the Atouri will change hands.”

 

Takua bit his cheek, easily discerning the truth of Kokani’s words. The Ko-Matoran wouldn’t hesitate to take the stone, whether Takua liked it or not. He rolled the Atouri back and forth in his hands, a little surprised that he was actually considering the offer. He didn’t want to part with the stone, despite the darkness it had brought him. It was Matau’s blessing, after all, and… he wasn’t sure if he could just throw that away.

 

But could he really leave everything behind? Yes, they’d suffered losses, but they could rebuild. They could return to that village Jaka spoke of, meet up with Alani and Tui and the other survivors, and… his thoughts began to trail off. And… then what?

 

Life wouldn’t return to normal. No matter how much he wanted it to. It wouldn’t be the same.

 

He looked up at Kokani, and then Jaka. Jaka would stand by him, no matter what decision he made. But it didn’t seem like he was sad to leave. His friend’s Kakama was full of life and energy, and it brought him back to a time when things weren’t so desperate. A time when the two of them would mess around, causing chaos in the streets of Le-Koro, just to see what would happen. Just for the sake of adventure.

 

Finally, he met Kokani’s eyes again. With a half-smile and a shrug, Takua made his decision. 

 

“What have I got to lose?”

 

The Ko-Matoran was pleased, and he showed it through a slight turn of the corners of his mouth.

 

And Raipu agreed as well. Slowly, the Po-Matoran stated he’d accompany them, lending his strength if it could be of service. Takua didn’t know what his motivations were, but he sensed a familiar resigned acceptance in his voice. Raipu clearly didn’t want to leave Le-Koro, but what was the other option? With his work destroyed, and his life already uprooted, Kokani’s offer became a chance at new beginnings — a slate wiped clean, already full of possibility.

 

In a minute Kokani had opened the burrow’s storage door and emptied its contents, strewing various items across the floor. Strips of canvas and wood poles, heatstones, lightstones, knives, even a few frying pans presented themselves, and Kokani wasted no time in showing the others how to prepare for their journey. They made packs out of the canvas, filling them to the brim with all the items they could possibly need. And when they were almost finished, it was time to pack the food Kokani and Raipu had brought in earlier.

 

Takua soon found himself struggling with his pack, fiddling and reorganizing so his supplies fit nicely together. But then Kokani passed a long object wrapped in cloth to him, his voice stoic, and deep.

 

“Here. You’ll want this.”

 

Takua unfolded the cloth to reveal the dagger he had bought in Le-Koro. He smiled. At least I have one thing from home.

 

By the time they set foot outside on the icy slope, Takua found mixed emotions in his chest. His grief still hung upon his shoulders, far heavier than his new pack, and he wished he’d been awake for when they’d met Tui and Alani. He wished he would’ve been able to say goodbye — not only to them, but to Talim. But here he was, in the present, unable to go back and change the past.

 

But there was excitement in his chest too, the aching promise of new places, people, and brighter days ahead. What lay beyond the horizon? What tales and adventure were in store?

 

It was near the end of the day, and the sun was beginning to set. Kokani patched up the entrance to the burrow, removing any trace of their presence, and the four Matoran stood upon the steep slope, their armor highlighted in the orange of twilight. They had started to move for only a moment, when Takua had a thought. He stopped in his tracks, suddenly uncertain if he could move forward.

 

“…Wait.”

 

The others turned to look at him, pausing before Takua dropped his pack, turned, and began to run up the slope of the mountain. 

 

"Takua!"

 

"What's he doing?"

 

The snow crunched beneath his feet as he ran up the steep incline. He passed the burrow's entrance, pushing himself farther and farther up the snow-covered rock, and its peak came into view just a few dozen feet ahead. The cold air churned through his lungs as he traversed the last few yards to the summit, and as he pulled himself to the mountain's highest point, a wondrous view greeted him.

 

The entire valley of Le-Wahi sprawled beneath Takua, his feet straddling the crest of the rock. No trace of the earlier destruction was visible; only the peaceful green expanse of trees existed until they were swallowed up by mist on the horizon. He stood there, taking it all in, gazing out at the land in which he had lived his entire life. The wind rustled the edges of his coat, and he closed his eyes for a second, silencing his thoughts.

 

Footsteps crunched through the snow behind him, steadily approaching until they were just a few feet away. Jaka's voice reached his ears, quiet and calm, with a hint of longing.

 

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

 

Takua sighed, filling his lungs with the mountain air, savoring the pure taste of it. He opened his eyes. "Yeah.”

 

The two friends looked out, savoring the view as best they could. It was everything they had ever known, right in front of them. And while their future held the promise of new adventure… it could be daunting at same time.

 

“We're really leaving, aren't we?"

 

"Hey," Jaka put his hand on Takua's shoulder. "We'll come back."

 

Takua pulled the edges of his coat closer around him, starting to feel the wind’s bite. “…A lot of things will have changed by then."

 

“Yeah. But we’ll probably change a lot too."

 

It was quiet for a few moments more, with only the wind whipping the cusp of their coats. But eventually Kokani's voice echoed from the mountain behind them.

 

"We'll want to be off the slope before the night winds arise!"

 

After a brief pause, Jaka left to follow the Ko-Matoran, leaving Takua alone on the summit. He took his last look at the jungle, and thought of what was to come. What would the horizon bring him, and what would he make of it? What would destiny bring to the table, now that he was bold enough to pull up a chair, and dine with it?

 

Maybe, he thought, when he was older and everything was over, he’d settle down and write about what would begin on this day. It would be an entertaining tale, one worthy of telling around fires, and maybe even in taverns like the Twisted Nail. Who knew? Maybe — just maybe — it would be worthy to be placed next to the chronicles of old, and Matoran would etch his name into the Wall of History, as the one who wrote the latest chapter in the Biological Chronicle of Mata Nui.

 

He smiled to himself. Keep dreaming, Takua. Keep dreaming.

Edited July 26 by ZOMBI3S

[ZOMBI3S]

Chapter 3 - Brutality and Guilt

 

It was their third day of traveling, and the narrow, snow-covered trail they followed led deep into the valley of pines. Kokani set their pace at a slow, yet deliberate trudge, and Takua’s entire body ached. In the two days since they’d left the burrow, they’d walked more than Takua had in his entire life. Or at least, it seemed that way to him.

 

He marveled at the scenery. Large, clumping snowflakes fell all around, silent as they slid their way through the canopy of pines. Ice encased the tree's branches, and they glistened, shining whenever a ray of sunlight managed to sneak through the clouds above. He’d heard about these snowy mountains, but never seen them up close before. It was like he’d stepped into another world, vastly different from the jungles he knew, but beautiful nonetheless. The only sound was that of their feet, sifting softly through the snow.

 

He caught something move out of the corner of his eye, and turning to look, he saw the tail end of a wild Hapaka darting through the branches. He smirked to himself. Even in this frozen, snow-covered land, there was life. 

 

He’d started to feel it — the wild. A sense, in and around him; a certain simplicity that only becomes noticeable in the absence of civilization. Takes took a deep breath, the strange feeling flitting though him. Was it… tranquility? Peace? Solitude? He didn’t know what it was, but it was there. It was here, in these mountains, in the wilds… and it was powerful.

 

The Atouri thudded against his chest as he walked. Weird.

 

The party stopped for a quick lunch at a stream, which somehow managed to poke its way through the sheets of ice and snow. Hopping atop a large boulder that sat in the middle of the water, Takua pulled off his pack and opened it, only to realize that he was out of berries. He opened his mouth to ask if anyone had some to spare, but Kokani jerked his hand up, open-palmed, silencing everyone. 

 

It was a a wordless gesture, one that by now they all knew meant: be quiet. 

 

Everyone froze.

 

Takua strained his ears, but to no avail. The four Matoran waited for a few silent minutes, no one moving a muscle.

 

"Hide!" Kokani hissed.

 

Thunk!

 

Takua watched as two weighted snares flew through the air, one wrapping itself around Raipu's ankles, the other thudding into a snowbank as Kokani deflected it with his staff. The Po-Matoran fell to the ground, his ankles suddenly bound, as Kokani looked up to the branches above them. A shrill cry pierced the air, and two beings dropped down from the trees, bearing scimitars.

 

"Kryll!"

 

The monsters were easily two heads taller than Kokani, and their muscles rippled underneath their armor — one wore silver, and the other, bronze. They both had emerald green eyes, which shone brightly underneath their angular helmets.

 

Takua whipped out his blade, ready to defend himself. The monsters attacked, the bronze one lunging at Kokani, and the silver running toward Takua. Hovering on the balls of his feet, he watched as Kokani ducked, kicking his attacker’s legs out, slashing with his blade — but then the silver one was on him. 

 

The Kryll whipped its blade at Takua, who managed to deflect once, then twice, but he stumbled back, and would have succumbed if Jaka hadn't jumped on it from behind. There was a moment of wrestling, but then a sharp elbow slammed into Jaka’s mask, and the Kryll threw him off, once again on the offensive. Knowing he couldn’t outfight the Kryll, Takua hesitated for half-second — then ran. The Kryll growled, bolting after him.

 

He didn’t get very far.

 

Takua hurtled over the stream, landing on the opposite bank — right onto a patch of unseen ice, and he was face first in the snow. Scrambling to get back up, he felt the Kryll’s claws latch around his ankle, and he writhed in response. Turning, twisting, moving any way to shake the warrior, he managed to flip to his back, facing the Kryll as he readied his boot.

 

Wham! Takua bloodied the warrior’s eye with his heel, and it fell to the snow with him, still managing to hold on. Takua shuffled back, recoiling, kicking at it again, but this time he only managed to anger it, its claws clamping onto his boot, and it pulled. Takua let out a help as he was dragged, scratching at the snow for something to hold onto — but then the bronze Kryll called out.

 

“Nilum!”

 

The Kryll let go of Takua, hearing what he could only assume was its name — but it was a second too late. Kokani’s armored boot slammed down on its outstretched arms, and Takua shuddered at the bone crunching snap that reached his ears. The Kryll howled in pain as Takua recoiled, shuffling back to his feet. He clutched the Atouri, wincing as Kokani lifted his blade, and shoved it into the Kryll’s stomach.

 

Blood splattered the snow.

 

Takua’s eyes flicked up. The bronze Kryll stood on the other side of the stream, breathing heavily as blood seeped from wounds on its shoulder and leg. It looked stunned at what had just happened, and its mandibles clicked twice before it hissed, letting out a half-screech as it ran off into the trees.

 

The silver Kryll looked up at them, coughing up blood as it struggled to breathe. Its arms lay outstretched above its head, mangled and broken where Kokani’s boot had landed, and Takua had to look away. 

 

But Kokani wasn’t fazed. Calmly, he knelt down to the defeated warrior. He was stoic, as always. “Who sent you? The Toa of Shadow?”

 

The Kryll wheezed and coughed up more blood, but didn’t say anything. Its emerald eyes looked to the sky, watching the falling snow.

 

"I know you understand me,” Kokani demanded. “Did Saku send you? How did you find us?"

 

“I die by blood and fire,” the Kryll muttered, ignoring Kokani as it recited its own rites. “With glory I pass — ”

 

“Speak, Kryll!”

 

Kokani’s sudden ferocity forced the Kryll’s attention. It clicked its mandibles, its voice rattling as fluid filled its lungs. “You may have beaten me, Kokani, but you will not last long. The Great Beast has your scent. The Hunters know your name.”

 

“The Great Beast?” Kokani gritted his jaw. “Do not speak in riddles, dying one.”

 

“They’re here,” It wheezed, sputtering for a second. “In the mountains. They know your path.”

 

“What beast? Tell me.”

 

“You really… have no idea…”

 

The Kryll’s toothy jaw smirked before its gaze returned to the falling snow. It let out a few indiscernible whispers as it exhaled, probably finishing its rites, before it was silent, and Kokani let it be. The emerald eyes closed, and it coughed for a moment — until finally, it stopped breathing.

 

Takua looked at Kokani, still taken aback by what had happened, only now seeing the fire fade from the Ko-Matoran’s eyes. He fought with a ferocity and brutality Takua had only heard of in stories. And it should’ve set him at ease, knowing they had such a powerful ally, but if he were being honest with himself… it scared him. There was more to Kokani than met the eye, but still, his stoic Akaku gave away nothing.

 

Takua looked back to the Kryll’s mangled body. “You…” he let out, unable to pull his eyes from the bloody snow, still processing what had unfolded. Eventually, he got the words out. “…You killed him.”

 

Without a word, Kokani moved away from him, across the stream and to his pack, pulling out a rag before he answered. “You expected something else?” He replied calmly, starting to wipe the blood from his blade.

 

Takua wasn’t sure what troubled him. He wasn’t used to this. He was from the city, a place where one’s biggest worry was figuring out what to do on a weekend. But now he stood here, on the banks of a bloodstained creek, just after having his life saved — once again — by this ruthless, quiet, Ko-Matoran.

 

“I don’t know what I expected.”

 

Takua managed to look away, and walked back to the other side of the creek, where Jaka was bent over Raipu, helping him with the snare. The forest was, once again, silent, and it was amazing to Takua how fast it had all happened. Even the bubbling stream seemed to try and hush itself now.

 

Raipu groaned and sat up as Jaka cut through the rope with his dagger. The Po-Matoran’s head had hit the ground hard, and he was still dazed. But Kokani inspected him, staring into his eyes before concluding that he would be alright, though he might have a headache for a few days. Everyone had their cuts and bruises, but overall, they were in good shape. Kokani spoke again.

 

“You three need to learn to fight,” he said, staring at his companions. “But for now we have to move. The one that escaped might be back.”

 

So they gathered up their things and followed Kokani, once more, along the trail. They crossed the stream and Takua’s eyes were drawn to the Kryll again, lying upon a mound of red snow. He stopped, lost in thought as the other three passed him, and he called out to Kokani.

 

“Are we going to bury him?” His voice echoed among the pines, unnerved and uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure whether to call the Kryll a ‘him’ or an ‘it.’

 

Kokani looked back for only a moment. “We still have a lot of ground to cover today, Takua.”

 

And he knew what that meant. Feeling strange, and maybe a little guilty, he averted his eyes from the scene and followed Kokani, farther up into the mountains.

Edited July 26 by ZOMBI3S

[ZOMBI3S]

Chapter 4 - The Wastes

 

As they traveled up and over the countless peaks, Takua found he was utterly exhausted. Kokani had them up at the crack of dawn, and they climbed the snow-swept rocks for the majority of the day. It seemed they were always going up, higher and higher into the mountains, for whenever they reached the top of a ridge, there was always a taller one waiting ahead. When the Ko-Matoran decided to make camp for the night, no one ever argued. Takua, Jaka and Raipu would collapse into the snow, their legs sore and their shoulders rubbed raw from carrying their heavy packs.

 

But even then they weren’t allowed to rest. After a quick meal Kokani had them up again, sparring with sticks and wooden poles. They took turns attacking each other, and Takua always dreaded when he went up against Kokani. No one could ever land a hit on their guide, and he always had a fresh supply of welts and bruises for the three younger Matoran.

 

Such was their routine, day in and day out, and eventually it wasn't so bad. As time passed the traveling got easier. Their legs strengthened, and Takua learned how to adjust his armor so his pack didn’t rub his shoulders. His lungs grew accustomed to the thin mountain air, and he found himself blocking more of Kokani’s blows when they sparred. He and Jaka found a dry humor in the fact that there was always a taller mountain, and figured that one day they would come to a summit and find that they stood on top of the world. It was a stretch, but it helped to have something to think about as they trudged through the snow. Raipu, however, never joined in when they joked. The Po-Matoran kept to himself for the most part, only doing what he had to to keep moving forward. Takua tried to include him as best he could, but Raipu seemed stuck in a melancholy mood, for whatever reason.

 

The Rahi of the area shied away from them, and they saw nothing of the beasts that had attacked Le-Koro. The knowledge that they were being hunted was like an itch in the back of their minds, ignorable at times, but never going away. Always, they were on the watch for Kryll, especially the bronze-armored one, who would no doubt want to avenge its companion.

 

Takua mulled over their encounter as they settled one night, the silver warrior’s last words etched into his mind. He absent-mindlessly held his sleeping mat, unrolling it inside the tiny igloo Kokani had carved out of a snowdrift. It protected them from the night winds, but the small space, along with their dying fire in the corner, reminded Takua of his time in the burrow — claustrophobic, cold, and suffocating. The Kryll’s rattling voice replayed in his head.

 

“What did that he mean, Kokani?”

 

The Ko-Matoran looked up from the embers, long shadows cast upon his mask. His gaze silently asked Takua to clarify.

 

“That Kryll. He talked about… a beast. And some hunters.”

 

Kokani grunted. “The Great Beast I know not of. I can only assume Makuta has some foul Rahi prowling Ko-Wahi, searching for us. But as for the Hunters… I am familiar with their work.”

 

Takua rubbed his hands together for warmth. “Who are they?”

 

“An elite band of beings, mostly Kryll, who carry out Makuta’s wishes. Some are part of his inner circle, in close contact with the Toa of Shadow, while others are mere mercenaries. Warriors and trackers, killers, motivated by coin, oaths, or even religious zealotry.” Kokani let out a sigh, his shoulders rolling as he summarized. “A hodgepodge of foul beings, conscripted to hunt the Atouri — and us. Dark Hunters, if you will.”

 

Takua frowned, the term familiar to him, but much like the Kryll — it had never been real before. The Dark Hunters were always a thing of of the past, of stories told at night to give one goosebumps. He’d never actually believed they existed.

 

Kokani swallowed, his words purposely vague. “We tread lightly, carefully, even here in the wilds. For I know what they are capable of.”

 

Takua nodded, lying down as the last of the their fire flickered out, giving way to the soft, subtle glow of the coals. 

 

He didn’t sleep very well that night.

 

They were in the heart of Ko-Wahi now, their igloo nestled against a large boulder, atop the near-vertical cliffs in the area surrounding Ko-Koro. A few dozen feet to the east was a sheer drop-off, a canyon that fell into a swirling abyss of mist, and to the west lay Ko-Wahi’s infamous Wastes. The stairs that would eventually lead them to the City of Ice were just visible in the distance, etched into the cliffside by Ko-Matoran carvers, some unknown number of ages ago. It was a hostile landscape, the winds unrelenting through the night.

 

Takua awoke near dawn, having heard something — a thump. A vibration in the earth, only audible because he’d slept on his side with his ear to the ground.

 

He sat up, looking around their igloo, finding only Kokani and Jaka awake, cooking their morning meal on re-kindled flames. Raipu still slept against the far wall. He rubbed his arms, scooting closer to the nearest heatstone as he drowsily looked to his companions. 

 

“…Did you guys hear something?”

 

Kokani lifted a hand, and they were quiet. He looked to the small opening at the top of their dome, listening as the smoke from their fire lifted. The only sound was Raipu’s steady breathing, and the muffled wind outside.

 

“…Nothing.” Kokani concluded. “But be on your guard; large Rahi roam free in the Wastes.”

 

Jaka soon began to dish out their morning meal — a small square of blackened fish with a smaller pile of boiled root vegetables. Takua touched Raipu on the shoulder to wake him, and they began their meal in silence.

 

He was still eating when Kokani reached into his pack, pulling out his ice pick, and a long, cylindrical object: a collapsable telescope, on second glance. Wordless, the Ko-Matoran moved to the far end of the igloo, and began to carve his way out, heading for the outside world and the pre-dawn sky. Takua watched him disappear, taking his last few bites of breakfast, his curiosity slowly getting the better of him. He stared at the hole in the igloo a minute more before letting out a small hmph. 

 

Takua grabbed his coat, threw it over his shoulders, and crawled outside. 

 

By the time he’d made it through the snowy walls, Kokani was already gazing at the sky. The Ko-Matoran’s silhouette was black against the deep, navy blue above, the soft light of a new day just beginning to make itself known against the mountains. The stars twinkled above — silent, calm, and clear.

 

Takua watched him for a moment before speaking. “…What are you looking for up there?” he asked.

 

Kokani fiddled with a knob on his telescope before answering. “All Ko-Matoran seek to understand the ancient Prophecies.” 

 

Takua squinted, mulling over Kokani’s response before deciding it wasn’t a real answer. He’d seen Kokani do this before, every once and a while since the start of their journey. The Ko-Matoran would quietly slip away, claiming a few minutes of solitude with his telescope — but this was the first time Takua had thought anything of it. This was the first time he’d had the energy to ask questions. 

 

“Do the stars change so fast that you have to look at them as often as you do?”

 

Kokani glanced at him, apparently annoyed by his ignorance. He turned his gaze back to the telescope before speaking again. “There seems to be a new prophesy, one I have not heard of before. It foretells the coming of… others. Though whom, I do not know.”

 

Others… Takua thought. It was kind of cool, but kind of scary. He remembered Brok, the Matoran who’d saved him from falling off that construction site in Le-Koro. Takua was skeptical, but if Brok believed it, and Kokani believed it, maybe it was at least worth looking into? “Do they really tell the future?” he asked.

 

Kokani pointed up at the Red Star, which shone a bit brighter than the others. "The Red Star is the key. It takes many hours of interpretation and contemplation to understand its teachings… but yes. Nuju has always followed its wisdom. And, as far as I know, he has not been disappointed.”

 

Takua’s thoughts trailed from Brok, to the strange old Matoran who had stopped him on the way back from Talim's house. He could almost hear his treespeak now; the stars will guide you.... 

 

"Kokani, who wrote the Prophecies?" 

 

Kokani studied the stars a moment more before answering. "Beings… far greater than us."

 

Takua stared up at the early morning sky as he pondered it all. The minutes passed, and slowly, the stars began to dim, the clouds rolling overhead. Kokani collapsed his telescope, cutting off their silent moment as he moved back to the igloo. 

 

“It’s time to move,” he announced. “Many Rahi find now as the best time to hunt.” 

 

They gathered up their packs, putting away everything they had gotten out for the night. In a few minutes they had left the small igloo, and were on their way, heading for the rocky stairs in the distance. The wind began to pick up, and snow began to fall, quickly reducing their visibility to a few yards.

 

They’d only made it a few hundred feet before Takua stepped into a pile of snow, but when his boot hit the ground, he heard a thump, far louder than it should have been. He blinked, remembering the vibration that had awoken him that morning.

 

“…I think I heard that noise again,” he announced to the group. 

 

Kokani looked back, quickly surveying the land. Something seemed to catch his eye in the distance behind them. “We have to hurry,” he let out. “Something’s following us, and it looks like Rahi. We should be safe once we reach the stairs, any beast large enough to be a threat wouldn't be able to follow us there.”

 

He turned back around, and Takua followed his gaze — then immediately froze, his senses instantly on high alert. 

 

There, right in front of them, towered a Muaka, poised and ready to strike.

Edited August 9 by ZOMBI3S

[ZOMBI3S]

Chapter 5 - Into the Abyss

 

The beast roared, echoing into the great chasm beside them. Kokani raised his ice pick in defense, instantly yelling to the other three.

 

"Run…!"

 

Takua did as he was told, scrambling through the snow as the Rahi attacked. With one swipe of its paw Kokani was sent hurtling through the air, landing with a soft thud into a nearby snowdrift. The Rahi lunged, jaws gaping as its head shot forward, and Kokani didn’t have a chance to move. Takua gasped in horror as the beast's teeth clamped around the Ko-Matoran. Its jaws squeezed tight, but it took no time for Kokani to react, slamming his ice pick into roof of the monster’s mouth. It dropped him in an instant, howling in pain.

 

Takua spun around, hesitating as Kokani took the opportunity to sprint for him and the others. His nerves on fire, Takua looked past the howling Rahi, searching the landscape for something else. Kokani had seen another shape through the whirling snow — what had happened to it?

 

Kokani caught up just as Jaka and Raipu had started to push their way through another snowdrift. “Hurry!” he yelled. “We won't be able to outrun it for long!”

 

But a roar sounded as the snow in front of them exploded, releasing a giant plume of white into the air. Another of the beasts charged headfirst into the Matoran, knocking them all to the ground.

 

"Two!?" Takua yelled, wiping the snow from his face. 

 

"That must be the one that was following us!"

 

Trapped between the two giant Rahi, the four scrambled upright, their backs to each other, flinching as the beasts clawed at the air. The Muaka prowled around them, slowly — intelligently — pushing them closer to the edge of the chasm.

 

"What do we do?" Takua hissed as he took a step backwards. The wind picked up, catching a chunk of snow behind them, carrying it over the cliffside and into the abyss. The sound of it crashing against the ground never came. "Mata Nui, that’s far!" he cursed, craning his head to see what he could.

 

“Takua, run to the left and distract that one,” Kokani said, pointing to the smaller beast. “If you can hold its attention for long enough, the three of us should be able to take down the other.”

 

Takua looked at Kokani in shock. “Are you serious? I have a dagger. What am I supposed to do against that thing!?”

 

“Do you have a better idea!?”

 

"Look out!"

 

The larger Muaka lunged, barely missing the Matoran, but launching up a plume of snow in front of Jaka. The blast knocked him off balance, and he stumbled back, teetered on the edge of the cliff. Kokani’s arm whipped out just in time, grabbing him before gravity did.

 

Takua let out a deep breath, bringing his focus back, psyching himself up. It’s now or never… 

 

“Hey!” he yelled, tearing off along the chasm's edge, grabbing a handful of snow. He packed into an icy snowball and threw it at the Muaka. “Come and get me, you stupid cat!”

 

The Muaka turned its head and roared, recoiling briefly as the snowball hit its nose. It pawed at its nostril, sneezing, then doubled down and roared again. Another snowball hit it, this time under the eye.

 

"Yeah! Take that!" Takua yelled, slowly gaining ground on the Rahi. “And that!"

 

His snowball hit the Muaka square in the eye, and its fierce growl stopped for a moment. Takua detected a hint of a whimper from the beast.

 

“That's what I thought!” he mocked. “Taste a little Le-Koro in that? Well — savor it!"

 

The beast whipped its head around and bellowed in Takua's face. Hot, smelly air enveloped him, drops of spittle splattering his mask. He hardly had time to curse before it struck.

 

“Mata Nui — ” 

 

Wham! It swiped at Takua with its giant forearm, clipping his side and throwing him into the air. With a heavy thud, he hit a powdery drift, thankful for the landing that would’ve otherwise killed him. He winced, barely turning over in time to see the beast poised, ready to claw at him again.

 

He rolled at the last second, the Muaka’s paw slamming into the ground next to him. Knowing he didn’t stand a chance here, he rolled back, latching onto the beast’s forearm as it recoiled, somehow thinking it might be a good idea. The Rahi raised its claws, carrying Takua with it, growling as it tried to shake him off. 

 

“Aah!”

 

Forward and back, side to side, Takua’s brains rattled inside his skull, but he didn’t dare let go. Faster and faster, the beast shook, jarring Takua as he was thrust up, down, then up again. His teeth rattled, but still he held, not allowing himself any other option. Finally, the beast took a moment to pause, and Takua took his chance.

 

Thankful for his tree-climbing skills, he scrambled up its arm, making his way onto the beast’s back, grabbing onto its ears to steady himself. It let out a yelp, roaring as it twirled, trying yet again to throw Takua off, but his grip held strong. He yanked on its left ear, steadying himself as the Rahi heaved to the right —  and the Muaka yelped, turning… to the left.

 

A thought popped into Takua’s head. 

 

It was stupid. It was insane. But here he was, already in an insane situation. It was… worth a shot.

 

Grimacing, he yanked on the Rahi’s other ear, forcing its head to follow in order to avoid pain. Another subtle pull, and Takua aimed his Muaka at the other beast, all while it jumped and ran in a desperate attempt to throw him off. It tried to twirl, but Takua’s fingers clamped on both ears, spurring it forward, and they gained ground. Closer… closer! His Rahi panicked, sprinting without thought as it barreled for the other Muaka, and the great chasm beyond it. 

 

“Get out of the way!” Takua yelled at his companions. They’d surrounded the larger Rahi, and Takua just barely caught a glimpse of Kokani’s mask — before he met his mark.

 

“Mata Nui — ”

 

The three Matoran dove out of Takua’s path as his Muaka crashed into the other. The beasts scrambled for a footing, claws tearing through the powder as they careened through the snow, panicked roars escaping their jaws — and they tumbled over the edge. 

 

Takua jumped off his steed just in time, tumbling to a stop in the powdery snow, a few mere feet from the drop-off.

 

There was a far-away bellow as the Rahi disappeared into the mist below.

 

He breathed, gazing out to the open air, in shock that his insane idea had actually worked. After a moment, he looked over his shoulder, finding his companions staring at him, stunned.

 

“…What!” Jaka let out, a big smile forming on his face. “What was that! That was insane!”

 

Even Raipu couldn’t stay quiet. “Takua, you…” he let out, at a loss for words. He scratched his head. “...That’s a new one, even for you!”

 

Takua exhaled, almost laughing as he tried to settle his nerves. He pressed his palms into the snow, pushing himself to his feet… and his side split with pain. He winced, clutching his torso, seeing three red lines beneath his ribs, from where the Muaka had swiped him. Gingerly, he pressed his fingers against the wound, and blood seeped onto his palm.

 

“Oh, that’s not good.”

 

But then, the roar of a Muaka sounded. It echoed around them, entirely too close to have come from the bottom of the chasm. Everyone froze, looking around to see where the sound had come from, but they seemed to be alone. Takua swallowed and turned, still holding his side as he walked hesitantly to the chasm's edge, gazing into the chasm.

 

The smaller Muaka had dug its claws into the cliffside, suspending it in the air just a dozen feet down. Takua’s eyes widened, staring as it clung for dear life, the dirt and rock of the cliff slowly crumbling before the Rahi’s weight.

 

“Get away from the edge,” Takua said between breaths.

 

“What’s going on?”

 

Takua clutched his side, ignoring the pain as he swirled around, ready to run. “Get away from the edge — now!”

 

But it was too late. The rock gave way, destroying support for the very earth they stood upon. Horror filled Takua  as the snow cracked beneath his feet, crumbling before his eyes — and he fell.

 

Suddenly, he was falling into the abyss.

 

Chunks of rock and dirt whizzed past Takua’s face, the wind whipping as he desperately searched for something to hold on to. He saw Jaka, Raipu, and Kokani, all claimed by the collapse, all suspended in the air, out of reach between the falling rocks. He heard Kokani’s voice, somehow, through the wind.

 

“…Ice picks!”

 

It was all Takua could make out, but the idea clicked. He twisted his torso, unfastening the pack from his shoulders, saying a silent thank you as his fingers closed around his ice pick. He shifted as best he could to face the cliff, raising the tool, and, with a grimace, he slammed it into the earth before him.

 

He let out a yelp as the rock repelled him, jarring his arm and splitting his side with pain. He was falling too fast! Again he struck, only to be rejected, and he chanced a glance down, making out the earth, quickly rising up to meet him. He was running out of time!

 

“Come on!”

 

He cursed as he struck a third time, and  — yes! His pick sank into earth, cutting into the cliffside, nearly ripping the tool from his grasp as his wound split open, but he didn’t dare let go. It tore through roots and soil, splattering Takua’s eyes as his momentum slowed and… it was working. His fall was slowing! 

 

Ching!

 

Again the pick hit solid rock, and Takua cried out as it was ripped from his hands. It flew into open air, spinning beside him as he continued his unimaginably long fall, thrown into a spiral by the sudden force. He caught a glimpse of the ground, all too close now, and fear gripped his mind as he groped for the tool, arms flailing. Finally, he wrapped his hands around it, again twisting, gritting his jaw as he recoiled, heaving it into the cliffside — and it took hold! Again, dirt and snow spat at his mask, knuckles white as his velocity began to slow…. 

 

“Mata Nui, please, please!”

 

It was a race against time now. The earth was right there, the pine trees all too detailed, a frozen lake immediately below, unwilling to cushion his fall. Half-blinded by the trench he carved, he squeezed one eye closed, the wind calming in his ears. How far away was the ground, a hundred feet, maybe? It was too close; he fell too fast! Fifty feet, and the canopy of pines flew by. Forty feet, and he could feel his pick slipping, pushed out by underlying rock.

 

“No no no! Come on!” 

 

Thirty feet, and he was slowing, but —

 

Ching! He hit rock, and Takua fell into open air.

 

"No…!”

 

Takua plummeted to the frozen lake, shattered through a layer of ice, and plunged into the  freezing waters below.

Edited August 9 by ZOMBI3S

[ZOMBI3S]

Chapter 6 - Lost

 

The temperature shock alone almost killed him. Takua’s limbs froze up and he was barely able to move, let alone swim. He cried out, releasing a stream of bubbles that floated upward in the dark blue-green water. Using all his strength, he swam towards hole he had made in the ice. His body screamed at him, but he was almost there. He would make it.

 

But then, just feet from the surface, he was yanked back down. A muffled bellow sounded through the murky depths as he was pulled, dragged away from the light that streamed through the ice above. The blackness below was disorienting, and he could barely make out the drowning Muaka that thrashed beneath him. It pulled on his pack, and Takua tried to hold air in his lungs as he wriggled one arm free of his shoulder straps.

 

He let out another burst of bubbles as he was yanked sideways by the sinking beast. His pack suddenly tightened, and he couldn’t move his other arm — he was caught! Panic set in as he sank, lower and lower, his hole in the ice above a small moon in a starless sky, dwarfed in size by a greater planet created by the Rahi. He could feel his strength slipping away, stolen by the freezing water.

 

His dagger!

 

Everything moved in slow motion as reached for his belt, his shivering hands unsheathing the blade, trying to cut the strap that claimed his shoulder. He fumbled with the fabric, wishing that he could do it faster, but his fingers were numb and clumsy; he could hardly feel them. Angry with his body, he forced the strap and dagger together, and with a surge of energy, managed to cut himself free.

 

Takua’s mind was slowing. His lungs burned, running out of air, and the surface was so far away. He couldn’t feel his limbs, but still he pushed toward the light, knowing he had to keep going. And yet, the closer he got, the slower his body moved. Spots flew in front of his eyes, and he grew dizzy. The urge to rest crept up upon him, but he couldn’t give up. It couldn’t end like this…

 

His lungs screamed at him to breathe. He swam, harder and harder, but his arms had no strength left. The water surrounded him, breaking the seal of his lips, trickling into his chest. And he knew he was drowning, but he didn’t have the strength to fight. Takua stared at the light, shining through the ice above, slowly fading from his vision… and he felt warmth. He felt… suddenly sleepy. And at peace. 

 

The Atouri thudded against his chest.

 

Thump-thp.

 

And Takua was strong. Energy poured into him as he opened his eyes, immediately rushing for the surface. Higher and higher he swam, getting closer, closer now. He was almost there…!

 

Takua gasped as he pulled himself out of the water and onto the surface of the frozen lake. There, he sputtered, coughing up water as the crisp, frigid air returned to his lungs. Shivering and panting on the ice, he caught one last glimpse of the Muaka, slowly sinking into the dark water below, motionless.

 

He collapsed.

 

He lay there for the better part of ten minutes, utterly exhausted, until reality yet again set in. He wasn’t out of this yet. He had to get warm, or the winds of Ko-Wahi would claim him soon enough. Slowly, he willed himself to get up and made for the shore of the frozen lake, approaching the silent pines. He clutched his dagger as the Atouri hung around his neck. 

 

They were the only items he had left. Everything else was gone.

 

Insulate. He told himself, remembering the survival tip Kokani had mentioned a few days ago. He stumbled around the shore of the frozen lake, gathering pine needles and moss and whatever else he could find. Once he was satisfied with his haul, he made his way to a particularly large tree, just beyond the edge of the lake, and set about digging himself a small burrow at its base. The tree's low-hanging branches offered shelter from the wind, and soon enough, Takua had curled up beneath it, covering himself in a blanket of needles and moss.

 

It wasn't comfortable, but it would work. He could already feel the warmth returning to his fingers. The silent forest enveloped him, and now that his first priority was covered, he had a moment to think.

 

Gingerly, he touched his side, feeling three long, tender lines where the Muaka had swiped him. They weren’t particularly deep, but he’d want to clean them at some point to prevent infection. He frowned, wishing he had Kokani’s knowledge of mountain herbs and medicinal plants.

 

Where were the others?

 

He had seen everyone falling when the ground gave way, but now he was alone. That meant they had all managed to cling onto the side of the cliff, except for him, right? He looked around, taking in the landscape around him. There was the frozen lake, the lush pine forest surrounding it, and a tiny waterfall flowing out of the cliff side. A wild space with no signs of civilization, contained within the walls of the great chasm.

 

He was, thoroughly, alone.

 

He had lost his pack. He had no food, no coat, and no way to make it to Ko-Koro. He hugged himself, rubbing his fingers against his upper arms as he tried to stay warm. He sighed and looked up at the sky, finding it shrouded in mist.

 

Ko-Wahi sucks.

  

~~~

 

Kokani heaved on the rope one last time, and Raipu’s exhausted mask appeared above the rock ledge. Jaka scrambled forward, reaching down to grab the Po-Matoran by the belt, and heaved him onto their narrow platform. Raipu flopped onto ground at Kokani’s boots.

 

“That was horrible,” he breathed, staring into the clouds. “I want to go home.”

 

“Hmm,” was Kokani’s only answer. 

 

But he spared him a few minutes of grace. Raipu caught his breath while Jaka looked him over, making sure he was alright, that he didn’t need any bracing or bandaging. But Kokani could tell he was fine — physically, at least. The three stood upon their narrow ledge, quiet as they took in their their surroundings — the cloudy skies above, the cliffs that stretched endlessly away, the mist, swirling, obscuring the earth below.

 

Kokani glowered at their circumstances. Grey. Everything. Including his mood.

 

“Come on,” he piped after the others had had their moment. “We need to move.”

 

So they did. 

 

Down a winding path etched into the near-vertical cliffside, they slowly made progress toward the bottom of the chasm. The trail was narrow, and one false step could send them falling miles into the mist — but at least there was a path. Otherwise, they could have spent days scouring, merely trying to find a safe way down.

 

They had been lucky. After the ground had given way, he’d been able to stop his fall with his ice pick, and Jaka had landed onto a wide outcropping. The two had reconnected easily enough, and it only took them an hour to find Raipu, who’d eventually succeeded in the ice pick maneuver. Of Takua, however, there was still no sign.

 

Kokani watched as Jaka kicked a pebble into the open air. He could tell the Le-Matoran was stressed — they’d found nothing, not a single trace of Takua’s presence. And while that might lead one to believe that he hadn’t made it, that he’d plummeted to his death at the bottom of the chasm… Kokani was skeptical. Takua had proven himself capable before

 

Either way, their approach remained the same: Takua was alive. Until proven otherwise.

 

Their path switched back and forth at random intervals, painfully slow as it took them downward. Sometimes they only walked a few feet before turning again, yet other times, they moved for a mile and descended only a foot or two. The cliffs engulfed them, only stopping when they faded into the mist at the edge of their vision. Snow gently fell in big, chunky flakes.

 

"Takua!" Jaka called out, desperate for a reply. But only his echo answered. 

 

Their relentless, tedious walk continued, and by the time they were remotely close to the bottom, dusk had descended. A forest of pines appeared, their tips poking through the mist as the last of the day’s light left. And when their path finally opened to the chasm’s floor, yielding to thick vegetation and snowy, needle-covered earth, night had fully fallen. 

 

Kokani raised his lightstone, illuminating the small clearing they found themselves in. With an unsatisfied sigh, he turned to his two companions. 

 

“We should camp. We won’t find him during the night.” 

 

Raipu dropped his pack on the ground, shoulders slumping as he sat upon it. “How are we going to find him at all? If Takua's alive, he could be miles away by now.”

 

“Ideally, he’s smart enough to stay put,” Kokani replied as he too, released his pack. It flumped to the ground, scattering the pine needles at his feet.  “And it shouldn't be too hard to locate two Muaka carcasses,” he added. “They tend to smell.”

 

“Can we light a fire?”

 

Kokani narrowed his eyes as Jaka asked the question. 

 

“You know, in case Takua’s around. Maybe he’ll see it and come find us.”

 

Kokani grunted as he unrolled his sleeping mat, brushing the snow from his fur blanket. He briefly weighed their options. “It would attract attention.”

 

“That’s the idea.”

 

“Potentially… unwanted attention.”

 

Jaka frowned as he let out a sigh, hiding his exasperation poorly. He glanced around at the thick, dark, coniferous forest. “Do… you think there’s anyone besides Takua who might be around?”

 

“I don’t know,” Kokani let out, keeping his hands busy as he set up camp, unfurling blankets and furs and sweeping the snow away. He looked back to Jaka, figuring it was easiest just to say what was bothering him. “What I do know… is that Muaka normally hunt alone.”

 

The Le-Matoran blinked. “And that means we can’t have a fire?”

 

“It means,” Kokani settled, sitting on his sleeping mat, leaning against his pack. “That someone trained those Rahi. It means we’re still being hunted. And they haven’t lost our trail.”

 

“Oh,” Jaka looked down, disheartened. “So… no fire?”

 

Kokani brooded. He drummed his fingers together, quietly contemplating their course of action. Jaka had a good point — if Takua was alive, their best chance of finding him was to make themselves visible. And they were in the right spot for it. Here, at the edge of the chasm, they were at a higher elevation than most of the forest. A fire, in this clearing, especially at night… it would be easily seen. But what costs would come with being seen?

 

They had to find him. They had to find the Atouri.

 

He swallowed, hard, hoping he didn’t come to regret his decision. “Do it.”

 

“Yes!”

 

Soon, they had a small fire going, and Jaka had collected their lightstones and propped them up on sticks — an obvious beacon, if anyone was near enough to see it. Their flames crackled and popped, spewing smoke into the air as moisture escaped the damp wood. Jaka seemed satisfied, but it put Kokani on edge. The Ko-Matoran sat there, staring into the flames, keeping his ears open for any hint of movement through the dark branches. But… there was nothing.

 

The minutes ticked by. Slowly, steadily, the night crept on. 

 

A handful of fuzzy moths fluttered, lingering around their lights, before again disappearing into the dark. The moon arose through the mist above, and the minutes turned to hours as the three waited, without a word. Eventually, Raipu gave in to sleep, and some time later, Jaka’s eyelids began to droop as well. 

 

But Kokani remained resolute, watching, waiting, now alone, in the darkness.

 

His companions slept soundly, and as the moon made its way across the starry sky, Kokani eventually decided it had been long enough. He let the flames dwindle and took down their lightstones, carefully wrapping the crystals in cloth, hiding their light from the outside world. The fire soon subsided, its flickering flames fading, yielding to the soft, orange glow of embers.

 

He watched the charred remains as they shifted from black to orange, and back again. Jaka and Raipu breathed, the rise and fall of their bodies just visible across the ember’s subtle glow. The black branches were quiet. The forest was still.

 

Kokani began to relax as he too, felt the subtle pull of sleep. And eventually, he closed his eyes.

 

All was still. All was peaceful.

 

Until cold steel pressed against his neck. And a voice hissed into his ear.

 

“Don’t move.”

Edited August 9 by ZOMBI3S

[ZOMBI3S]

Chapter 7 - Hope From Shadow

 

 

Takua awoke in the middle of the night. It was cold, dark, and the air felt strange, as though something wasn't quite right. He looked around and almost jumped, startled by what he saw.

 

A pair of orange eyes stared at him through the trees.

 

Takua tensed himself, ready to fend off an attack from some sort of beast. He waited on high alert, the seconds ticking by, but nothing came. He studied the eyes closer, and as he looked through the darkness, he thought he saw the outline of a Matoran.

 

"Hello?" he called out, unsure if he should welcome the figure or not. He gripped his dagger, just in case.

 

The Matoran motioned for him to follow. "Come."

 

"Who are you?"

 

The glowing orange eyes squinted, as if the Matoran was annoyed with him, and the figure turned around and to walk away through the forest. Its voice echoed for only a second before it disappeared between the black branches. "Are you going to come or not?"

 

Thinking quickly, Takua weighed his choices. Either he stayed here and risked nothing, or he followed the Matoran into the unknown. The Matoran could beat and rob him, but he had nothing of value anyway. Perhaps, just maybe, he could find out how to get to Ko-Koro!

 

"Wait! Come back!"

 

Takua ran in the direction the Matoran had went. He pushed past sticks and pine needles, scratching himself as he did. He ran as fast as he could, but somehow the dark figure was already very far ahead of him. He ran and he ran, weaving around massive pines and brambles, hurdling over boulders and crashing through brush, but still he could not catch the Matoran. In fact, it seemed as though he was losing ground. Takua burst into a small clearing and squinted. The figure was nowhere to be found.

 

"Come. This way!" The Matoran popped up from the brush in front of him.

 

Again Takua gave chase. Through the woods he ran, and yet still he could not keep up with the dark figure. Panting, his legs burning, he finally pushed his way out of the forest. The great wall of the chasm opened up before him, granting passageway into a smaller crevice. Looking into it, he saw a lightstone sitting atop a rather large boulder. The Matoran stood with his back to Takua, facing the lightstone.

 

"I found this," the figure's voice echoed among the rocks. “Come, take it.”

 

Takua looked around him. The plant life of the forest stopped the moment it entered the crevice, leaving it cold and barren. It was eerie, and the Matoran was strange, but he could use the lightstone to signal for his friends. Cautiously, he walked into the jumble of rocks.

 

The sky was pitch black above him, and the farther he moved into the crevice the more he couldn’t help but feel that something was wrong. It seemed as though the world had forgotten this place, as if something was off-balance. The black rocks that loomed above were menacing, and as he approached the lightstone he grew nervous. Darkness ruled this place; life did not exist here.

 

Takua stepped into the light. The boulder the lightstone sat on was almost as tall as him, and he could barely see the Matoran on the other side of it. But still, the figure beckoned him froward.

 

"Go ahead. Take it.”

 

He hesitated, then slowly placed his hand on the lightstone. Its yellow glow was split by his fingers, casting long shadows on the rocks. Gripping it tight, he raised it high above his head, trying to illuminate the darkness, but the shadows refused to reveal their secrets. He couldn't get over how the crevice felt. "Why did you take me here?"

 

The figure chuckled, a deep menacing sound that Takua had heard before. "I only wanted..." it trailed off as it stepped into the light, its figure suddenly twisting and reforming. There was a whirl of shadow, and in a second Saku stood before Takua, smiling as his orange eyes glowed in the night. “…to talk.”

 

And a huge bellow enveloped the crevice. Takua stumbled backward as the roar pounded his ears, and a gigantic, foul Rahi appeared out of the shadows. It rose up behind Saku, towering above him as it slammed its claw into the ground behind Takua, blocking off his escape. The sheer force of the blow knocked him to the ground.

 

Flipping over and staring upward in shock, Takua was amazed that such a beast could remain hiding anywhere. It was a foul creature, larger than anything he had ever seen. Like a dragon, but warped and twisted, with the head of a Kane-Ra bull. Its body seemed to be that of a Muaka, its arms cut from a Tarakava. Giant wings of the Nui-Rama fluttered at its back, and the stinger of a Nui-Jaga tipped its powerful tail. It was, in all essence of the word, a monster.

 

And Takua recognized it A beast only whispered of in the tales of old, the tales that used to keep him up at night, shivering with fear.

 

The Rahi Nui.

 

Desperately, Takua scrambled to his feet and tried to run, only to be knocked down by another tremendous blow. The Rahi Nui's claws closed around his body. He squirmed and clawed at the ground, motivated by instinct and fear to get away, but it was no use. The Rahi lifted him up until he once again faced Saku, now standing atop the beasts' head. He wriggled as he tried to get to his dagger, but the Rahi’s claws clutched him tighter and he couldn’t move. The beast had him.

 

"You are in my realm now, Takua."

 

Takua had nothing to say as he stared into the face of Talim’s killer. He hated the Toa, but he was also so afraid. The beast’s claws tightened around him as he clutched the Atouri around his neck. Wincing, he only managed a few words. “You’re not getting the stone…”

 

But Saku smiled. "Come now, Takua. I'm asking you politely," he said, his deep voice reverberating in the Matoran’s ears. "I'm not like the Makuta. I can be reasonable, I can be civilized. We can talk this out."

 

Takua held his ground, repeating himself "You're not getting the stone."

 

Saku sighed, trying his best to be patient with Takua. He cocked his head. “What is it that you want?”

 

Takua stared at the Toa, unsure of what to say.

 

"I can make you rich. I can make you famous. Anything you want, Takua, and I can make it happen. Just give me the stone, say the word, and it’s yours," Saku tempted.

 

Takua looked at him, his eyes narrowing. The Toa was actually offering to make a deal with him. At first he was simply confused, but the more he thought about it he was insulted. After everything Saku had done to him? Anger flared up in Takua’s eyes, and he clenched his jaw. “You have nothing I could ever want.”

 

“Are you still sour about everything that happened in Le-Koro?” Saku asked. “I am terribly sorry about all of that by the way, but...” he trailed off, stopping to inspect his blade for a moment. “Business is business, you know.”

 

Takua couldn’t take the Toa’s taunts. “You killed her!” he spat out, his rage getting the best of him. “She did nothing to you, and you killed her in cold blood!”

 

And Saku’s eyes twinkled behind the Kraahkan. “So that’s what you want, is it?”

 

The Toa’s response caught him off guard. “...what?”

 

Saku leaned in closer as the great beast breathed beneath him. “Talim, wasn’t it? What if I told you that I could bring her back?”

 

Stunned, Takua didn’t know what to say. He clutched the Atouri against his chest and stared at the Mask of Shadows. Was Saku telling the truth? A rush of hope and excitement flickered through his brain before he forced himself back to reality. He had to be lying. “Talim’s dead. No one can bring her back.”

 

The Toa laughed. "Dead? No, she's not dead. Makuta thrives on destruction. It is his essence; it is his being. He is the Void, and anything that enters it becomes a part of him.”

 

Takua stared at him, not entirely sure he understood. “…what do you mean?”

 

“It is easy to kill someone, but that doesn’t destroy their spirit. The hearts and minds of the beings in this world give him much greater strength. As an agent of Makuta, I didn’t kill your friend, Takua. I simply…” he paused, thinking of the right word. “…took her from you. Her body sleeps, lost without its spirit, but I assure you she is very much alive”

 

Takua’s heart pounded in his chest. He didn’t know what to think. He was astounded, amazed even, but the thought scared him all the same. “Where is she?” he demanded.

 

“Not in a place either of us can go.”

 

Takua looked down at the Atouri, flitting his gaze between it and the Toa of Shadow. “You could bring her back?”

 

Saku smirked. “Just give me the stone and say the word.”

 

He could barely wrap his mind around the fact. If his time in the mountains had done anything, it had helped him come to terms with everything that had happened. Talim and Matau were gone, never to come back. He’d been forced to accept that, but now Saku had shattered everything. He could see her face now, lighting up just as it did when they were standing in the tall grass, watching the fireworks on the Spring Solstice. Everything he had felt then, all his emotions, it all came rushing back to him, even though he'd thought it had been buried with the snows of Ko-Wahi. The heat of the jungle was melting through the cold he'd grown accustomed to. He felt the Atouri beating against his chest.

 

Thump-thp.

 

“You could really bring her back?” he said, still stunned.

 

Saku smiled. "Only if that's what you want."

 

Takua was silent for a moment, lost in his own thoughts and memories. “How do I know you’re not lying?”

 

“You’ll just have to trust me,” Saku said calmly, his voice smooth, like silk. “You won’t have another chance quite like this, that I can guarantee.” He held out his hand, palm up, offering it to the Le-Matoran. “What do you say, Takua?”

 

Takua thought for a moment, and then slowly unhooked the Atouri from his neck. He had no reason to trust Saku, but somehow he knew the Toa was telling the truth. He held the stone in his palm, looked Saku in the eye, and smiled. He knew what he had to do.

Edited August 15, 2021 by ZOMBI3S

[ZOMBI3S]

Chapter 8 - Duty

 

 

Talim wasn't gone after all. She was waiting for him, somewhere, and this was his chance to save her. Clutching the Atouri with white knuckles he took a deep breath and raised his hand. He wanted to see her so bad. Conflicting emotions ran through him, but he had already made his decision. He knew what he had to do.

 

I’m sorry Talim.

 

Takua plunged the Atouri into the Rahi Nui’s claw. The pointed end of the stone cut through the beast’s flesh like a dagger, and it let out a roar as it dropped him instinctively. Takua pulled the stone out as he fell to the ground, and drops of the Rahi’s blood splattered his mask. He landed on his back with a thud, and sprinted for the forest as Saku yelled after him.

 

“Takua don’t be a fool!”

 

The giant claws crashed into the ground in front of him, blocking his escape. He whipped around to see Saku approaching, holding his bladed staff. The giant head of the Rahi Nui bared its teeth behind him, growling. Without thinking, he ran at the Rahi Nui's claws and jumped, a desperate attempt to hurdle them, but they moved upward and he was swatted to the ground like a fly. He found Saku's blade at his throat, but quickly he slammed it away with his dagger and sprang to his feet, ready to fight.

 

“I tried to reason with you, know that,” Saku glared.

 

He lunged with his staff, giving Takua barely enough time to step aside and parry the attack. Adrenaline pumped through the Matoran’s body as he ran to get in range with his dagger. He swiped at the Toa his blade whistling through the air as Saku sidestepped and elbowed him in the side of the mask. Takua stumbled back, took a kick to the stomach, and fell back down to the ground. Saku’s blade once again froze above his throat.

 

"I’ll give you one more chance," the Toa said. “Drop your weapon.”

 

Takua's dagger clattered to the ground.

 

"Give me the Atouri."

 

Takua stared up, unyielding. “No.”

 

Saku leaned in close and fire erupted in his eyes. His calm, deep voice was gone now, replaced by one that spoke quick with anger. "Or how about I crush your little friend's spirit so she can never come back? How about I kill your friends and give their mutilated worthless bodies to the Kryll?" he threatened. "That's all they are: worthless. All of your kind are worthless.” He kicked Takua in the side, opening up the wounds he had received from the Muaka. The Matoran cried out in pain. “A pathetic race of cowards and hypocrites who run to Toa every time something goes wrong. You don't deserve the right to live—"

 

There was a sudden whish as something flew through the air, and Saku's weapon was jerked away from Takua’s throat as the Toa stumbled back. The Matoran looked up to see an arrow sticking out of Saku’s shoulder, and a small amount of blood oozing from underneath his armor.

 

Many footsteps thudded as a group of about three dozen Matoran ran out of the forest behind them, firing their bows at Saku and the Rahi Nui. The beast roared and lashed out at the soldiers, flicking the bodies it hit across the ground as if they were toothpicks. One Matoran offered her hand to Takua.

 

"Are you all right?"

 

Takua took the hand, noticing it belonged to a Ga-Matoran, the only one in the group. The claw marks on his side were bleeding now, and he winced at the sight of it. "For now. Who are you?"

 

"Friends," the female Matoran ran off to aid in the battle.

 

Bolts of shadow whipped through the air as Saku retaliated, and the massive beast behind him pounded the ground at the tiny Matoran. Arrows whizzed past Takua, who stood in the middle of it all, wondering what had just happened. Snapping out of his stupor, he grabbed his dagger off the ground, and took cover behind a large boulder.

 

It was only then that he could reflect on the decision he had made. Talim was alive, somehow, and he had chosen not to save her. But he had a duty: Matau had entrusted him to keep the stone safe. The Turaga had died protecting him, and as much as he wanted to see Talim, he knew deep down that she wouldn’t have had it any other way.

 

He clutched the stone to his chest. I’ll find another way Talim, I promise.

 

"Retreat!" One of the Matoran called. "Fall back!"

 

Almost instantly the Matoran stopped firing their arrows and ran for the forest. Takua followed their lead. Clutching his side as it split with pain, he stumbled through the foliage as other Matoran flew past him. He could hear the great beast roaring behind him as the ground shook with its footsteps, and he knew that Saku wasn’t going to give up easily.

 

He winced as a pine branch smacked into his wound, and he paused for a moment to catch his breath. He could hear trees crashing to the ground as the beast chased after him and the other Matoran, and the sounds were only getting closer. He willed himself to go faster, but his side split with every step, and it was the best he could do to travel at a slow limp.

 

“Le-Matoran, what are you doing!? We have to get out of here, fast!” a figure said behind him as it burst through a bramble patch.

 

Takua turned around to see the Ga-Matoran who had helped him up. "Where are we going!?" He asked as he pushed a branch out of face.

 

"Mata Nui, you’re not looking so good!" she said as she put her arm around Takua’s waist, helping him to stand up straight. “Come, this way! Hurry!”

 

The beast roared behind them, and although it wasn’t visible through the thick branches, it was obvious it was close. Takua welcomed the help from the Ga-Matoran, and together they ran through the forest. As they climbed over a large boulder he made the mistake of looking at his wound: blood oozed down his side, covering his hand and the Ga-Matoran’s arm in a red hue. It was worse than he thought.

 

Soon the forest was squeezed into a small passage through the canyon, and the trees gave way to a clearing of snow. A pile of round shields lay there, and the Matoran accompanying them each grabbed one and jumped onto it, making their getaway as they sledded down the steep decline of the passage.The Ga-Matoran grabbed one and hopped onto it.

 

“Get on!”

 

A tree crashed down behind them, and they could hear the roar of the Rahi Nui, even closer now. Takua limped over to the shield, clutching his side. The world seemed to spin around him as he stumbled, and he knew he was losing too much blood.

 

Thump! Thump! The great beast’s footsteps sounded as a Ko-Matoran burst into the clearing. Seeing Takua stumbling, the Matoran picked him up and placed him on the shield behind the Ga-Matoran. He heard him say something about how everyone else had already escaped, but for some reason he couldn’t quite make sense of it. His head was growing foggy.

 

“Hey!” Takua felt a gentle smack his cheeks. “Stay with us, Le-Matoran! You’re going to be alright!”

 

Another tree fell behind them, followed by a great roar.

 

“Go! Go! Go!” someone said as Takua felt the shield start to move. A sudden rush of dizziness hit him and his head slumped against the Ga-Matoran’s shoulder. His vision grew foggy.

 

They moved down the slope and the icy wind picked up. It blew against Takua’s face, and he tried his best to stay awake. He clutched the warm blood on his side as the rest of his body froze. He noticed the Ko-Matoran fly past them on his own shield, and the Ga-Matoran grabbed his arms and swung them around her waist.

 

“Stay with me, Le-Matoran!”

 

There was a crash of falling trees followed by a huge roar. Their shield wobbled and spun around, and the last thing Takua saw before his eyes closed was the Rahi Nui towering over them, roaring into the night sky.

Edited August 15, 2021 by ZOMBI3S

[ZOMBI3S]

Chapter 9 - Reunion

 

 

The world collapsed around Takua as he slipped in and out of consciousness. Chunks of rock and dust crashed into the snow as the Rahi Nui roared, shaking the very earth beneath him. The Ga-Matoran lay in the snow next to him, and with his blurry vision he saw her shield sliding down the slope without them. His eyes went black, and he entered the world of his dreams.

 

There was a temple. It sat at the center of a blackened crater, as a king would sit, overlooking an empty throne room. Silhouetted against the red sky, its grand exterior served as a beacon of hope for him as he walked the charred earth. His footsteps echoed as they hit the hard soil, but he knew he wasn't alone. Something was following him. He could feel it in the back of his mind. The beast was silent and dangerous, but Takua knew that if he could only make it to the top of the temple, he would find peace. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw a dark shape flit out of sight. The elaborately carved doors of the tower rose up before him, glinting of polished ivory and oak. He grasped one handle and pulled it open, straining to move the heavy door. Slowly, steadily, the dark insides of the temple opened up to him, and he quietly slipped inside.

 

Takua was wrenched back into the real world as he felt giant claws envelop him, lifting him into the air. He heard the Ga-Matoran screaming, followed by the solid thunk of an arrow piercing flesh. Blood splattered him, and the claws dropped him back into the cold snow. The shock of the fall sent his mind back into the dream.

 

He was running. It was coming after him, but what it was, he couldn’t tell. His lightstone only illuminated a few feet around him and the beast, no, the monster, could be hiding anywhere. He had to stay focused. He had to make it to the top of the tallest tower. It called him, and he yearned for whatever he would find there. A growl echoed around him, and he froze. Turning, he found the monster standing but a few feet in front of him, and he held his breath in fear. Slowly, it lurched toward him, its shoulders hunched over and its clawed feet thumping on the floor. Its arms hung carelessly at its sides as drool and blood dripped from its twisted fangs.

 

Excruciating pain awoke him, and he cried out into the night sky. Matoran were yelling now, and there was a loud explosion in the cliffs above him. The earth rumbled with the sound of an avalanche and he felt the light tap of the Ga-Matoran hitting his cheeks, telling him to stay with her. She was at his side, desperately trying to hold his wound together. Giant boulders thudded into the earth, sending great white plumes of snow into the air. He watched as a huge cascade of rock and snow smashed into the Rahi Nui. It stumbled and fell, pressed against the side of the cliff as the avalanche engulfed it. Hurried voices surrounded Takua and he felt someone pick him up. He was carried away from the chaos, away from the howling beast. Staring listlessly into the stars, he once again closed his eyes.

 

Unable to move, Takua could do nothing as he watched his nightmare advance towards him. Its long teeth widened in a horrible smile, and its bloodshot eyes bored into his soul. Petrified with fear, Takua stared back at it, and he came to a realization: he knew this beast. He had seen it before. Looking past the twisted fangs, he recognized its angular face. It was the Mask of Shadows.

 

Saku!

 

With a jolt he awoke, and everything was quiet now. Whoever held him trudged through the snow with purpose, traversing a wide plain as the sun just barely rose above the eastern mountains. The Ga-Matoran came into view, and she smiled at him. As his vision started to fade for the last time, he managed to look up. The off-white of Kokani’s Akaku met his gaze.

 

The Ko-Matoran nodded, and Takua closed his eyes. He didn’t wake as Kokani carried him through the snow and toward the great bridge of ice. He didn’t see the huge glaciers that surrounded Ko-Koro up ahead, and he didn’t notice when they passed through its gate. What he did know was that Kokani held him, and that he was safe.

 

 

~~~

 

 

Takua awoke to find himself laying in a wooden bed with fur blankets, not much different from the one at Kokani’s burrow. The black, stone walls of the small room were lit with a lightstone cluster, imbedded into the far corner of the ceiling. It cast a faint, yellow glow, but as he turned his head to take in more of his surroundings, he noticed sunlight poking out from under the curtains of the room's only window. It seemed to be mid-afternoon.

 

As he struggled to move, he secretly hoped that his tendency for blacking out and waking up in strange places didn’t become a habit.

 

He sat up and clutched his side as it split with pain. Looking down, he realized his wound had been stitched up and bandaged. Wondering where he was, what had happened, and who had helped him, he lay back down in the bed. Minutes passed, and soon he heard footsteps coming from an open doorway behind him. They briskly clunked on the wood floor, as if the being that made them was on an important mission. A stern atmosphere enveloped the room as the sounds crept closer, and as they entered the doorway, Takua felt it was necessary to pretend to be asleep.

 

The sounds stopped at the foot of his bed. Nothing happened for a moment, but then he heard a familiar voice.

 

“Takua?”

 

Takua opened an eye.

 

“I’m going to kill you Takua!”

 

“…Jaka?”

 

Suddenly the Le-Matoran was on the bed, hugging him. “You scared the karzahni out of me! I thought you were dead!”

 

Takua smiled as his friend embraced him and then helped him to sit up. “What happened? How did you get here?”

 

And Jaka told him the whole story. After the Muaka attack, he, Raipu, and Kokani searched for him, but to no avail. By the time they had made camp for the night at the bottom of the canyon, a patrol of the Sanctum Guard had surrounded them, mistaking them for bandits, or spies of Makuta. It was a Ga-Matoran who recognized Kokani, and offered them help.

 

“I remember a Ga-Matoran,” Takua said. “She helped me escape from the Rahi Nui.”

 

Jaka nodded. “We told her we were looking for you, and she said she’d seen you earlier walking toward the ‘The Lair of the Beast,’ and we knew we had to find you.”

 

“So that was you who sent them?”

 

Jaka grinned. “It was awesome! We had this whole plan figured out. Some of them went to get you, and when the Rahi Nui came after you, Kokani, Raipu and I triggered an avalanche and we crushed it! Aw, Mata Nui, I wish you would’ve been there!”

 

Takua shook his head. “I was there, Jaka.”

 

“Oh…right,” his Kakama twitched. “But I meant like, to make the avalanche and stuff. Not, you know, bleeding and getting chased by a monster.”

 

Takua smiled. “You’re a loser, you know that?”

 

Jaka rolled his eyes. “At least I don’t black out all the time.”

 

“I have a serious wound!”

 

“It’s good to see you awake.” The two friends turned around as Kokani, Raipu, and the Ga-Matoran entered the room.

 

Takua’s eyes were drawn to the newcomer, as we was curious to find out more about her. She was a full royal blue in color, with black feet and a black Komau, and was tall, almost as tall as Kokani. She seemed a little bit older than Takua, but not by much. With one corner of her mouth turning up, she walked up to Takua and stuck her hand out, oozing an easy-going, confident atmosphere.

 

“The name's Aya," she smirked. "Good to see you not dead, Takua.”

 

“Yeah,” Takua shook it and looked at Kokani and Raipu. They met his gaze, and it felt good to know that they were there for him. If it hadn’t been for them, he would have never met this Matoran, and he  may have never escaped from that dark crevice. “Thanks for helping me out back there.”

 

Aya grinned, and Takua liked her already. Their conversation went on, mostly spurred by Jaka's need to tell him everything he had missed during their separation. Takua smiled, taking it all in. He learned all about their travels down the canyon, how they'd waited through the night for him to show up, how they'd almost gotten killed over a misunderstanding. He even learned how Kokani and Aya knew each other: the Ko-Matoran had been her mentor, a long time ago. He'd taught her how to fight, shown her how to live in the frozen wastes, back when she had first came to live in the mountains. Takua's interest peaked at the thought: Kokani willingly taking someone under his wing? It didn't seem like him, but then again, there was definitely more than met the eye when it came to Ko-Matoran.

 

Eventually, they helped him out of bed, and showed him small square of Ko-Koro, situated just below Takua’s room at the inn. It was a pretty sight, with the fresh snow sparkling in the late afternoon sun. The city was calm and quiet, and Takua liked it. It was soothing, and helped him to forget the pain of his injury, and the decisions of the past.

 

Soon enough the sun was lowering in the sky, casting its orange glow upon the pine trees and the snowy buildings. Kokani led the way in the direction of the Sanctum, a large domed structure at the end of the square, and Takua remembered that the day was not yet over: Turaga Nuju was waiting for them. Council was still to be had, and he looked down at the Atouri, his nerves suddenly getting the best of him. The rest of his party had started to walk up the Sanctum's wide, stone steps, but he hesitated. He stared at the black stone, brushing his fingers against it, his mind wondering what he was about to get himself into.

 

He wasn't ready. Not yet.

 

"Kokani?" he called out. A question burned in the back of his mind.

 

The Ko-Matoran gave him an inquisitive look. Takua stood at the base of the steps, fidgeting ever so slightly, and after a moment Kokani responded by turning around and walking over to him. He looked down at Takua, just out of earshot from the others, his eyes asking what it was the Le-Matoran needed.

 

Takua looked at the ground and hesitated, suddenly struggling to form his words. With a sigh, he forced himself to continue. "Remember back in Le-Koro, when people found the storyteller who was trying to warn me?”

 

Kokani nodded.

 

"He’s not really dead, is he?"

 

"No, Takua."

 

Takua almost didn’t ask it, because he was afraid of what the answer might be. But he had to know. "Can you ever heal someone who's like that?"

 

“No.”

 

Takua paused. Somehow he’d expected Kokani's answer, but he couldn’t shake Saku’s words. He had more reason to trust Kokani than the Toa of Shadow...but now that the idea was in his head, he couldn't just give up on her. “I don’t know if you know this, but the Rahi Nui and I weren't alone in that crevice. Saku was there.”

 

To the untrained eye, Kokani would have shown no emotion, but Takua knew better. His mask seemed to tighten up, and the Ko-Matoran clenched his jaw. His thoughts seemed to churn for a second before he responded. “He offered to trade the stone for Talim, didn’t he?”

 

A bit surprised, Takua nodded.

 

Kokani put his hands on Takua’s shoulders. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but there is no way to heal someone in that state. She'll sleep, forever. Until her body rejoins the earth.” He paused, looking into Takua’s eyes. His voice was stern. “Talim isn't coming back, Takua.”

 

They stared at each other for a moment more, then Kokani let go of him, following the others toward the Sanctum.

 

“I told him I wouldn't!” Takua blurted out, feeling as though he had to explain himself.

 

Kokani stopped walking. He turned around to look at the young Le-Matoran.

 

“Come on,” he said, beckoning, and Takua quickly caught up to him. “You did the right thing, Takua.” He patted him on the shoulder, and let out a half-smile to show his approval. “You did the right thing.”

Edited August 15, 2021 by ZOMBI3S

[ZOMBI3S]

Chapter 10 - Council and Uncertainty

 

 

The deep blue walls loomed above Takua as he stared up at the domed ceiling of the Sanctum. Thousands upon thousands of words and symbols were etched into the rock, explaining events passed and foretelling of ones yet to come. Ko-Matoran milled about, quietly studying the walls as a low chant seemed to fill the air. Kokani led them to the back of the dome, and Takua’s eyes were drawn to a statue of a tall figure brandishing a sword and a shield. Its stone Akaku stared out towards the far wall, proud and strong. Orange flowers were draped around its shoulders, and incense and lightstones were placed around its feet.

 

“That’s Toa Kopaka,” Aya told him quietly. “Some say he was the most powerful of all the Toa.”

 

Takua stared up at the figure, dreaming about what it might have been like to stand in the legendary hero’s presence. He brushed his finger against the tip of the statue’s blade, and could almost feel the power of a snowstorm swirling within it. “What do you think happened to them?” he asked.

 

Aya looked up at the statue for a moment before answering. “They fulfilled their destiny, and Mata Nui called them back to him.”

 

Takua studied the statue for a moment or two longer, taking in the sweet scent of the incense and flowers, when something caught his eye: a few lines of script, engraved into the base. “Under the gaze of red, two will dance,” he read. “Light and Dark will meet, and the dance shall turn to dust…wait a minute, I’ve seen this before back in Le-Koro!”

 

Aya looked down at the inscription. “The dust shall dance, and spirits shall fall., and only one will remain….huh. I’ve never noticed that before.”

 

“Do you know what it means?”

 

She shook her head just as Kokani called out Takua’s name from the end of the dome, where he and the rest of their party now stood. Quickly, they walked over to meet up. A small wooden door was embedded into the wall, guarded by two Ko-Matoran.

 

“Kokani I just saw an inscription and I was wondering if—“

 

“Now is not the time,” Kokani commanded, and Takua shut his mouth. “Nuju is ready to see you. He will not speak with you directly, as you will not understand his wisdom, but his translator will answer any questions you have.”

 

Takua nodded. He’d heard about Nuju before, and had always pictured him as a little strange. Takua swallowed and turned to face the guards, who opened the door for him. His hand resting on his dagger to settle his nerves, he walked through the doorway and into a circular room, followed by Kokani and the rest of his friends.The room was the same deep blue color, but no symbols were etched into the walls here. Six elaborately carved chairs were arranged in a circle, facing the center of the chamber, but only one was occupied. The figure sat silently, staring at Takua from across the room, holding a decorative pick axe in its right hand: Turaga Nuju.

 

“Ah, Takua!” A voice sounded from his left, and Takua looked to find an Onu-Matoran approaching him. The being was about his height, and wore a beautifully polished purple Rau. A sash inlaid with gold thread hung around his shoulders, and as he stuck out his arm for a handshake, Takua noticed emerald and diamond rings on his fingers. “It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you!”

 

“Thanks...” Takua said, shaking the Matoran’s hand, feeling strange that the Onu-Matoran knew his name. “And you are?”

 

“Oh, of course! My apologies,” he paused to adjust his sash. “My name is Illum, representative of Onu-Koro, translator for Turaga Nuju, and humble Matoran under the wisdom of the Sanctum.”

 

Kokani coughed from behind Takua, and Illum looked up. Instantly the Onu-Matoran’s wide smile turned into a look of astonishment. “K-Kokani,” he stuttered, “I admit I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

 

Kokani nodded. “The feeling is mutual.”

 

Takua looked at the two Matoran as he felt the tension in the room rising. Nuju sat in his chair, looking at them silently with his ice blue eyes. Illum opened his mouth to speak once again, but Kokani immediately cut him off.

 

“I expected a Ko-Matoran to act as Nuju’s translator.” Kokani said, staring at Illum. His words weren't offensive, but they were cold, and spoken with disgust.

 

Illum’s response was immediate, as if he had said it a hundred times. “I can assure you and your friends, Kokani, that I am perfectly capable of performing this role. I have acted as ambassador for Onu-Koro for many years and much of my time has been spent here. I have learned much about the Sanctum and Nuju’s teachings. If for any reason you feel uncomfortable with my presence, perhaps we could reschedule this meeting when another translator is available—”

 

“That won’t be necessary,” Kokani said loudly, and Illum cringed for a moment, as a Mahi would when its master clutched a whip. “Besides,” he continued, “I’m sure Turaga Nuju is very busy. I mean no disrespect.” He bowed to the Turaga, and Nuju nodded his head in return, as if he understood Kokani’s feelings.

 

“Of course,” Illum stood back up to his full height and straightened the sash around his shoulders again. “If you would all take a seat, we may begin.”

 

Each of them sat in a chair, with Takua directly across from Nuju. Only Illum was left standing as the Turaga started moving his hands in strange motions, and the Onu-Matoran began to speak.

 

“There is a prophesy,” he said, pausing as the Turaga signed for a bit, “that seven beings will come to this island. Six will come first, and when the time is right they will unite their powers and summon the Seventh, who will rise up from the waters of Naho bay. It is said that this seventh will wield the power to destroy the Atouri.”

 

Takua looked at the black stone, hanging around his neck. It still seemed strange to him that such a small trinket was the source of so much conflict.

 

Illum continued. "It is not yet clear who these beings are, but the stars all point to one conclusion. A new age is on its way, an age that hearkens back to the elder days, when Mata Nui and Makuta were at peace. However, this age will be born out of blood and fire, and the beings that will bring about its coming will be of great power. It is written that history shall repeat itself, and so we can only assume one thing: this is the prophesy we have been waiting for; the prophesy that will deliver us from Makuta's shadow. This is the prophesy that tells of the return of the Toa."

 

Takua looked up, suddenly very interested. The Toa had been gone for ages, and the only the Turaga remembered a time when they walked the earth. Countless childhood stories and legends coursed through his head at the thought of them, and instantly he wanted to know more.

 

“Nuju says that your coming here is of great importance,” Illum said as he began to walk around the perimeter of the room. The fearful demeanor of his talk with Kokani was dwindling away, replaced by the charming and charismatic one that had first greeted Takua. It seemed that Illum was most comfortable when he was talking. “He believes that you are the one who will ready the island for the coming of these beings, and he asks that you take the Atouri to Ga-Koro in preparation for their coming. But before you accept this task, Nuju understands that you must have many questions. He remembers that your namesake, the one who became the Toa of Light, had many questions about his duty, and so Nuju will answer any that you may have now.”

 

Takua looked back down at the Atouri and thought for a moment. What questions did he have? He wasn't really sure. His mind churned for a bit, but only one thought seemed to form above all others.

 

“Why me?”

 

Nuju started signing again, and Illum began to talk. “Every day that passes, darkness invades Mata Nui. The Kryll grow ever stronger, throwing aside their nomadic ways for fortresses and strongholds. Ships from the Eastern Continent continuously land on our northern shores, and their numbers grow as well as their hostility. They are rallied together by one very specific Kryll, known to have a deep seeded hatred for Matoran. He is known by many names, but mostly commonly he is Krosis, the King of the Kryll. It is said that he has pledged himself to Makuta, and is commonly seen with Saku, the Toa of Shadow, who also plagues our lands.” Illum paused as Nuju signed for a moment more. “It is Nuju’s understanding that you have met this being before, the night of the attack on Le-Koro.”

 

Takua remembered the Kryll with the golden armor and red warpaint, and felt a tingling of anger inside of him. Krosis… he thought. Now at least he had a name.

 

“Along with these two, there are rumors of another servant of Makuta living among us. A Matoran, obviously well-connected, has been feeding Saku and Krosis information about the Turaga’s plans, but his identity has escaped us. That is how they have escaped detection for so long, how Saku knew about Matau’s trap in Le-Koro, and how they were able to take the city so easily. All three of these beings know about the prophesy, and they know about the Atouri. They will be searching for it, and that is why Turaga Nuju believes that you should carry out this task.”

 

Takua looked at Illum quizzically, leading him to continue.

 

“We need someone who is able to travel across the island unnoticed. An armed caravan will attract too much attention, and you have experience with these beings. You know better than anyone how they think, and with Kokani as your guide, Nuju trusts that you will not fail.”

 

Takua didn’t believe that he knew how Saku and Krosis thought, but he did trust that as long as Kokani was with him, he would be safe. The choice Nuju offered him now wasn't even a choice to Takua. It was just something that he accepted, as he didn't know what else he would do.

 

“I’ve come this far,” Takua said, looking into Nuju’s eyes. “Why stop now?”

 

The Turaga’s Matatu smiled, and Illum spoke his words. “Nuju is pleased with your decision, and he gives you his blessing. Turaga Nokama will be expecting you, for the red star tells us that the coming of the six will soon be upon us. He trusts that you will do well in your task, Herald of the Atouri.”

 

"Hold on," Jaka stood up from his chair and faced Takua. "You don’t suppose I’m going to let you go without me, do you? I know you can't take care of yourself."

 

Nuju looked at the duo and nodded. “Your party has done well so far, I see no reason why some should stay while the others leave, should you two choose to accept as well.” Illum said as Nuju motioned to Aya and Raipu.

 

“Oh no, I only helped them to get to Ko-Koro, I haven’t been…” Aya trailed off, looking at everyone around her. After a moment she stood up and bowed. “I would be honored to accept,” she said formally, but Takua could see the excitement under her mask, and he knew she had been waiting for this opportunity.

 

But Raipu was silent. He sat in his chair, looking at the ground, obviously deep in thought. Takua remembered how apprehensive he had been back when they decided to leave Kokani’s burrow. Raipu had never wanted this. If it were up to him, he would be in Le-Koro right now, trying to rebuild what he’d lost. Takua remembered how quiet he had been in their journey through Ko-Wahi, and realized that Raipu probably wouldn’t be traveling with them any longer.

 

“I’ll do it,” the Po-Matoran said.

 

Takua looked at him, a bit suprised, but he was glad. Perhaps there was more to the Po-Matoran than he thought.

 

“It is settled. Friendship is your ally, and it will make all hardships easier to bear. Nuju wishes Mata Nui to watch over us all, and that we may have Pohatu’s speed, Onua’s strength, Tahu’s courage, Gali’s wisdom, Kopaka’s power, and perhaps most importantly, Lewa’s humor. This council is hereby adjourned."

 

Nuju dipped his head, and they all bowed in return, including Illum. As everyone filed out of the council chamber, he turned around to look at the wise Turaga one last time. His Matatu was aged, and he leaned heavily on his pick axe, but through his icy blue eyes Takua could tell his mind was very much alive. He paused, letting everyone else leave the room, until he and the Turaga were alone.

 

Slowly, Nuju walked up to him, his footsteps echoing in the empty room as his pick axe thumped on the stone floor. He stopped about a foot away from Takua, his eyes curiously asking what it was that the Matoran wanted.

 

Takua was excited about what was to come of his adventure, but still he wasn’t sure. A part of him was still in Le-Koro, watching Matau and Talim as they were ripped away from him.

 

“What if things don’t work out?” he asked, realizing that it was a stupid question, but he still needed some kind of answer.

 

Nuju smiled and placed one hand on his shoulder. Then, in a raspy, old, deep voice that hadn’t been used in a very long time, he spoke.

 

"If you ever find yourself lost, follow the red star, for it shall guide you toward your destiny."

 

Takua didn’t know how to take that, or even what it meant, but the Turaga’s eyes held something inside of them that reassured him. Something told him that if it was worth saying by the Turaga, it was worth listening to. Something told him that Nuju spoke the truth.

 

 

~~~

 

 

The early morning sun streamed through the mountains, casting its glow upon Ko-Koro’s gate. Takua and Jaka stood in the square, waiting for Kokani, Raipu and Aya to finish packing up their belongings. They had resupplied the night before and Kokani had bought Takua a new, emerald green pack to replace the one he had lost. A quarter inch of fresh snow covered the black rock of the square, and the sky was a bright, inviting blue.

 

"Did you ever think we'd be sent on a mission by a Turaga?" Takua asked, speaking his thoughts. “It’s kind of weird.”

 

Jaka looked up. "Weird?"

 

"Yeah. I never thought it'd be me doing this."

 

Jaka adjusted his pack so it sat better on his shoulders. "Life is crazy, I guess."

 

Silence dominated the square for a few moments as they stared off through the opening of the gate, wondering about the future.

 

"We could be heroes, Jaka."

 

Jaka snorted, laughing a bit to himself, but he smiled at Takua. "Maybe."

 

They heard the footsteps of the other three, and soon enough they were walking toward the gate, leaving Ko-Koro behind them. The Atouri thumped against Takua’s chest, reminding him of his duty, but overall, he felt pretty good. After all, one could never have too much adventure.

 

“Takua!”

 

He turned around at the sound of his name to see Illum running towards him across the square, bundled in a luxurious fur coat. He stopped to let the Onu-Matoran catch up.

 

“I wanted to have a word with you before you left,” Illum said, “if that’s alright.”

 

Takua nodded his head. “Sure, what's up?”

 

“I know I don’t know you very well,” Illum said as his mask gleamed in the morning light, “but I thought I’d just say good luck out there.” He stuck out his hand, and Takua shook it.

 

“Thanks.”

 

Illum leaned in close so that only he could hear. “Be careful. Mata Nui is a dangerous place: trust no one, not even those closest to you.”

 

Takua looked at him, suddenly on edge. “What are you saying?”

 

“Nuju trusts him, but I’d still watch my back if I were you,” he said, nodding towards Kokani. “There are rumors about him, you know. Dark rumors.” Illum paused, letting the thought sink in. “One of Makuta’s servants is living among us, and although I try not to judge, well…” he trailed off for a second. “...it could be anyone.”

 

Takua glanced over at Kokani, who had started to walk towards him and Illum. He really didn’t know anything about the Ko-Matoran. He was friends with Matau and he had saved his life many times, but what if there was something darker to Kokani? Takua remembered the fire he’d seen in his eyes when they were ambushed by Kryll, and how much it had unnerved him. There was definitely something Kokani wasn’t telling them.

 

“Just saying,” Illum said as Kokani came into earshot. He patted Takua on the shoulder and let go of his hand. “Good luck out there, friend.”

 

And just like that, Illum was gone, and they had left Ko-Koro. Suddenly, the world wasn’t full of adventure and stories. It was full of unknown dangers, and darkness crept around every corner. After all, they were still being hunted. They still had to cross the entire island of Mata Nui, and while the dangers of Rahi, Saku, and Krosis were intimidating, Takua couldn’t help but wonder: what if their most dangerous enemy was within their midst all along?

 

The Atouri thumped against his chest as he looked at Kokani, walking along the mountain road ahead of him. Clutching the straps of his pack, he tried to settle his nerves as his heart beat loud in his chest.

 

Thump-thp.

 

Takua sighed. Only time would tell.

 

Thump-thp.

 

 

~End of Part II~

Edited August 15, 2021 by ZOMBI3S

[ZOMBI3S]

 

Chapter 1 - Misfits

 

 

Lightning flashed as Takua gripped the rock, pressing his back against the mountain as the thunderstorm pelted him with rain. Mud and water rushed off a ledge above his head, forming a wall of brown liquid that cascaded just inches from his face. The tame, wide, mountain road they'd departed Ko-Koro on had morphed into a narrow shelf, cutting into the near vertical cliffs, forcing the company to shimmy along its edge in single file. One false step on the slippery rocks could send them plummeting down the near-vertical mountainside.

 

Eventually there was a break in the cascade of water, and Takua looked around, making sure everyone was still present. He wiped the mud from his mask and yelled over the torrential rain. “Everyone alright?”

 

Jaka nodded, standing right behind him, and Aya responded with a thumbs-up, a couple feet in front. He saw the white outline of Kokani even farther ahead, easily thirty feet away. He was barely visible through the downpour, but Takua wasn’t worried about Kokani.

 

“Where’s Raipu?” he asked. Minutes ago the Po-Matoran had stood between him and Aya. He looked around, searching for a second before repeating himself. “Where’s Raipu!?”

 

“Help!” Raipu’s voice rang out, and Takua glanced over the edge of the shelf. The Po-Matoran was dangling by his fingers over the vast drop-off, nothing but air beneath him.

 

Takua got down to his knees as fast as he could without throwing himself off-balance. “Raipu grab my hand!” he yelled, and the Po-Matoran took it, pulling himself up toward the ledge.

 

Crack!

 

A section of the rock shelf gave way, and Takua let out a yell as he fell into the open air. Desperate, he reached to grab onto something, and just barely managed to connect with Aya’s hand. The Ga-Matoran strained under their combined weight, and she was forced to lie on her stomach to prevent herself from being pulled over.

 

"Pull!" Takua yelled. Aya tried her best, but it wasn’t enough. Even as Jaka’s scrambled to help, Takua could feel his fingers slipping away from them, and he looked down at Raipu, desperately clinging to his other arm. The rain obscured his vision, and all he could see below him was a grey void.

 

“Takua don’t you dare let go!” Jaka yelled at him.

 

“I’m slipping!”

 

Inch by inch, Takua felt his arm slip out of Aya’s grip, and he closed his eyes. Then, another hand gripped onto his arm, and he looked up to find Kokani staring down at him. With the Ko-Matoran’s help, Jaka and Aya managed to pull them back onto the ledge, and the five Matoran sat for a moment and rested. Thunder rumbled above them as they sat, until Aya finally spoke up.

 

“We need to find shelter, Kokani,” she turned her head to look at the Ko-Matoran. “We’re going to get ourselves killed out here.”

 

Kokani nodded. “There’s a small cave up ahead. We can rest there for the night.”

 

 

~~~

 

 

Takua sat down, sighing as he leaned back against the wall of the cave. His pack crumpled to the floor beside him, and he wedged his lightstone into a crack in the wall, providing just enough light to get a good look around. The space was just large enough for the five of them, and provided much needed shelter from the raging storm outside. He eyed Kokani as he rummaged through his pack, finally having a moment to collect his thoughts.

 

He had every reason to trust the Ko-Matoran, but he couldn’t seem to shake Illum’s words. Since they had left Ko-Koro, Takua had tried to find out more about their guide, but to no avail. Kokani never gave up anything about his past. It wasn't that his brief conversation with Illum had completely shaken his trust in the Ko-Matoran, but rather, it had made him realize just how little he knew about him. It was, now that he'd been thinking about it, a little unnerving. He stared, watching Kokani's muddied armor move in the yellow light, until finally he decided to speak

 

“How do you know Illum, Kokani?”

 

Kokani glanced at the Le-Matoran, the light twinkling in his eyes. “Why do you ask?”

 

He shrugged. “I was just wondering.”

 

Kokani sighed as he pulled an extra lightstone and a map from his pack. “Illum is Onu-Koro’s ambassador. He travels to other villages and cities, discussing relations and politics. I have met him many times over my years with the Sanctum.”

 

Takua nodded. “You two don’t seem to get along very well.”

 

Kokani huffed, making it obvious what his thoughts were before opening his mouth. “He is a politician. He debates and argues about what is best for the Matoran, but only so long as it will keep his coffers full of widgets. He dresses himself in precious jewels while there are people in his city that remain poor and starving. Never once has he been out in the real world, and never once has he truly meant the words he speaks.”

 

Takua looked down at the ground, feeling a little guilty as Kokani placed his lightstone on the floor of the cave, spreading out his map. He motioned for the others to gather around, and Takua knew he shouldn�