Another chapter largely written on vacation, only edited and posted now. In retrospect, I should’ve gone on a longer vacation. 
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Chapter 49
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Slowly but surely, Matoran and Agori began to arrive on the platform. By the time we were allowed to board, there were enough to fill up a car or two, though by no means the entire train. As always, Kopaka made his way quietly to the back car, and as before we were alone, and tired enough to pretty much collapse on to the chairs and fall asleep right then and there, which is exactly what I did. I woke up to the light of the sunrise streaming into the cabin, a little over an hour after the train’d left station and still not feeling all that rested; I’d have to wait until we reached the forested section of the trip before it’d be easily possible to get some more. Kopaka appeared to be meditating as he’d often done during these long rides; probably thinking of whatever he was going to do when he got back to the mountains. Speaking of which, I was about to bring the subject up again when, to my surprise, he got up and made his way over to the front of the car, where a telescreen was located. In spite of having shown no interest in the happenings on the telescreen before, he attempted to turn it on. However, like the screens in the last cars of previous trips, this one did not appear to be functional, prompting him to make his way to the next car forward instead. Curious about what exactly he was interested in watching, I followed right behind.
The second to last car’s telescreen was also out of order, but the one in the next one forward was already on, turned to one of the premier news channels. There were a few Agori and Matoran dispersed throughout the car, and Kopaka took a seat relatively close to the telescreen but at least three away from the other inhabitants. I took the one next to him.
“What are you watching?” I asked quietly.
“It is almost seven,” he replied. “Hahli’s morning program is on at seven.”
“Oh, right…” I realized. The announcement, of course. Kopaka merely nodded, then turned his attention back on the screen. I did the same, and soon the intro to Hahli’s news program was playing, followed by the appearance of the Toa Mahri of Water sitting behind a desk in a studio, sorting through some notes while a large telescreen behind her displayed the program’s logo, a stylized version of her Kanohi Faxon accompanied by the title “Chronicler’s Report: Morning Edition.” It was a program that I’d seen plenty of, since Kirall’d always made a point of watching it religiously even when the Skakdi crisis was at its height. Normally, once the camera was on her, Hahli would look up with a smile, greet the viewers enthusiastically, and then proceed with whatever was on the docket for the day. However, on this day, even in the moment before she turned her attention to the camera, it was obvious that that infectious enthusiasm was missing.
“Good morning, Spherus Magna,” she greeted in an unusually solemn tone. “Breaking news today as Pohatu was found dead in his home shortly before sunrise.” She took a moment to clear her throat before continuing: “investigations are ongoing, but so far it appears that the former Toa Nuva died peacefully in his sleep.” The telescreen behind her changed to a portrait picture taken years ago of Pohatu as a Kolhii player, while Hahli explained some of the history behind the person. “A former member of the Toa Nuva, the Toa team that led the residents of the Matoran Universe during the Battle for Bara Magna, he became better known afterwards as the most successful Kolhii player in the history of the sport until a catastrophic injury took him out of the game. After several years of coaching, he formally retired from public life, referring any questions to his long-time friend and fellow Toa, Hewkii, who today informed us of his death. Memorial services are yet to be scheduled, but we will keep you updated on any developments.” She looked down at her notes for a moment, sighed, then looked up again, clearly trying to maintain a professional appearance in spite of the fact that this news very much affected her personally. “Excuse me for a moment,” she said in a slightly shaky voice, then gestured to her left. “With the weather for today, here is Aliesi.”
The camera cut to a Jungle Tribe Agori standing in front of an even larger telescreen displaying a stylized map of New Atero and the surrounding areas, who proceeded to explain with colorful graphics what the weather’d be like, not that I was paying much attention. Looking around, I noticed that most of the Matoran and Agori in the car looked quite shocked; those that were sitting next to each other were talking in hushed tones, while others turned their attention back to whatever they were reading or doing beforehand, their faces still betraying a degree of concern. A Po-Matoran who’d been sitting close to the back of the car, clearly quite upset, got up and walked down the aisle to the car in front. Before long, a couple of other Matoran and Agori followed, though perhaps it was more because it was about time for breakfast to be served in the dining car ahead than any feeling regarding the news. Kopaka, meanwhile, appeared to remain unmoved on the outside, sitting there with his hood pulled up to disguise himself from others and, perhaps, to disguise his feelings from me. He made no comment, and it wasn’t long before he got up and started for the car behind. I followed, and soon we were sitting down in the last car again, well away from the other passengers and the noise of the telescreen.
“Well, she got the message across,” I observed as a half-hearted attempt to start a conversation again. Kopaka apparently saw no reason to reply; instead, he reached behind his back and produced a couple of widgets.
“Breakfast is being served in the dining car.” He offered me the widgets.
“True…” I took the widgets, but thought it rather curious that breakfast was his preferred topic right now. “I guess I am kind of hungry…”
“While you are over there, could you get me something?” he asked.
“Sure, what do you like?” I got up.
“Whatever they have,” he said dismissively. Normally, I would’ve expected him to be more specific, but I quickly deduced that he was either exhausted beyond caring or just wanted me gone for a while.
“Sure, I’ll be right back,” I said as I started for the door. The dining car was close to the middle of the train, and quite crowded; the other passengers were getting meals too, so I had to wait in line, or rather I would’ve had to if I hadn’t been a Toa. The moment I entered the car, which up until then appeared to have had an atmosphere of light consternation about it, everyone fell quiet and all eyes of the Matoran and Agori turned to me. Some stepped aside, motioning for me to go ahead towards the counter, which was being manned at the time by a Fire Tribe Agori. I moved ahead, rather uncomfortable with the whole display even if they were just trying to be nice; the looks on their faces alone could pretty much be read as “my condolences.” The whispering in the back didn’t help.
“Uhm, two Burnak sandwiches please,” I asked the Agori when I reached the counter.
“Of course,” he immediately reached down, pulling two wrapped-up sandwiches from a shelf under the counter. I put the widgets Kopaka’d given me down along with some of my own, he counted them out, and that was the transaction. “Sorry about the news,” he said as I picked up the sandwiches.
“Thanks,” I nodded politely before making my way back to the door by which I’d entered, increasingly nervous about the fact that everyone seemed to be looking at me… I mean, for all they knew I’d never met Pohatu, yet all of them seemed to make the assumption that his death was like a personal loss to me. I mean, yes, it was, but… A few months before, if I’d walked in right after Pohatu’s death, no one would’ve so much as blinked; just another Ce-Matoran going about her business, but now that I was a Toa it was like they immediately jumped to the conclusion that I must’ve known Pohatu even though he’d purposely isolated himself over the last few centuries. It was just another reminder that, much as I sometimes wanted to believe that I hadn’t much changed, especially in awkward moments like those, my appearance to others certainly had. Returning to the last car, I found Kopaka hadn’t so much as moves a muscle. I offered him the sandwich, he took it, and we ate in silence. Outside, the city of New Atero had vanished over the horizon, our view now replaced by green rolling hills and pastures, whose most notable inhabitants consisted of a well-dispersed herd of Kikanalo. It was a beautiful day, not that either of us really cared that much; for how I was feeling the sky should’ve been gray with pouring rain, and based on what I’d seen after the announcement and in the dining car, I wasn’t alone. For a while, I found my thoughts drifting to my teammates in Onu-Koro-Nuva; had they seen the news? Given how early it was, probably not… then again, depending on the events of the previous night Kirall might’ve gotten up to see the morning edition. Still, sooner or later they’d come to hear of it. How would they take it? For the time being, the only conclusion I could come to was that Jahlpu would probably take it most seriously, which, to borrow Kopaka’s words, wasn’t exactly an earth-shattering development. Then again, they’d probably all be up for at least attending the memorial.
After finishing his breakfast, Kopaka returned to meditation again. Looking for a drink and having forgotten to bring some along after the first awkward spectacle in the dining car, I started on my way back to there, hoping that perhaps the crowd had died down slightly. Along the way I found that the third-to-last car was now empty, its passengers probably in the dining car, but the telescreen was still on. To my surprise, they were rolling footage around Pohatu’s house, though not in it, because Jaller and some of the New Atero Guard had apparently blocked it off for an investigation. Over it all, Hahli explained in greater detail how things had gone that morning; according to her, Hewkii’d gone over to Pohatu’s house just before sunrise to check on the old Toa before starting his training regimen for the day, and had found the elder in bed and unresponsive. Shortly thereafter, a first response team pronounced Pohatu dead on the scene, barely twenty minutes before the broadcast of the morning edition of Chronicler’s Report. Jaller answered some questions to the crew on the scene, informing them that, so far, all the signs pointed to a natural death. Of course, I knew that was all a lie, but whatever Kopaka’d put on that note, it appeared quite clear to me that the Toa Mahri fully intended to cement the legend of Pohatu as he’d intended it.
The interview with Jaller was followed up, after some other program and a long break, with a more in-depth, if hastily prepared look at the life and work of the Toa Nuva of Stone, starting with his first appearance to the Po-Matoran on the island of Mata Nui. Hewkii was brought in to answer questions and explain a lot along the way, remaining quite composed considering he was talking in depth about someone who he’d been very close to and who had died just that morning. As the broadcast continued, he became more and more the presenter over Hahli, though the latter frequently asked him to elaborate on various parts of the story. Descriptions of Pohatu and the other Toa Nuva fighting hostile Rahi and Makuta Teridax himself were followed by the laying out of the Bohrok Wars, the return of Teridax and the Rahkshi, and the appearance of Takanuva. Hahli mentioned that, as a side note, that Takanuva had been gone for years; best anyone knew, he’d left the planet to go and find the Great Beings themselves, who he believed had left to build another world elsewhere. On this journey, he’d been accompanied by an odd Po-Matoran named Velika. It certainly was a quest up the former chronicler’s alley, though many recognized it had increasingly become an obsession to him in the years leading up to his disappearance. Either way, Hewkii turned the attention back to Pohatu by briefly leading into the Toa Nuva’s disastrous visit to Voya Nui, which led to him and the other Toa Mahri becoming Toa in the first place. That, as Hahli informed the viewers, concluded part one of a look at the life of Toa Nuva Pohatu, with part two to be broadcast at the same time tomorrow.
By that point, between the length of the program and all the interruptions and breaks for other news along the way, the clock was closing on eleven-thirty. Quite a few other passengers had come to the car in the meantime, most also watching the special broadcast while it was on. Murmuring among them afterwards suggested to me that it had gotten them thinking, which in light of the intent to cement Pohatu in the public consciousness seemed to me like a good thing. However, given that we’d reached the forested part of the journey and that I was feeling more tired than ever, I decided not to join in and instead make my way back to the last car to take advantage of the shade and at last catch some serious sleep. Kopaka appeared to be doing the same thing. It wasn’t until the late afternoon when I woke up again, at least feeling refreshed if still completely off-schedule. By then, the train was winding its way along tracks that snaked around one forested hill after another, occasionally resorting to bridges or tunnels to make the journey slightly less… meandering and lengthy. Granted, that seemed kind of pointless given that it took well over twenty hours to get from New Atero to Onu-Koro-Nuva anyways, but at least this line didn’t make any unwarranted stops along the way. Worryingly, however, Kopaka was nowhere to be seen, a mystery that was solved quickly when, as I moved forward through cars looking for him, he appeared coming back the other way with dinner from the dining car. I opted to follow his example, and before long we were back in the last car, enjoying the traveler’s variety of Gafna cubes and other assorted tidbits.
“You know, there was a special on about Pohatu earlier,” I began as we polished off the last of the meal. “They were talking about his life.”
“What part?” Kopaka asked.
“The earlier parts, I guess,” I elaborated. “Island of Mata Nui, mostly. They’ll broadcast part two tomorrow.”
“Have they scheduled the ceremony yet?” Kopaka wondered.
“If they did, they didn’t say,” I answered.
“Yet the process has begun,” Kopaka concluded, betraying just a hint of satisfaction in his voice.
“I suppose it has,” I acknowledged, “but it’s a pity that you won’t be there to see it.” Instantly, I could tell Kopaka’s mood drop, along with the surrounding temperature.
“Lis, I have explained myself on that matter,” he coldly reminded me.
“Yes, you have, plenty of times…” I recalled, “going back because Duty and all. Still, you’ve never really told the truth about it, have you?”
“Why would I have told you anything but the truth?” he wondered.
“Because you can’t handle it,” I pointed out. “You’ve been very keen to dismiss what I saw that night when they were working on your leg, but I think it reveals a lot more about you than you can stand.”
“You have already brought that up,” he recalled. “It did not end well.”
“No, but I thought I had nothing to lose,” I admitted, “and that was before you changed.”
“Changed?” He clearly had his doubts.
“Yeah, something’s different about you,” I continued. “Ever since I showed you what happened to Onua… you turned around immediately after that, and did something that you’d already said you wouldn’t do: fulfilling Pohatu’s wish.”
“I had new information,” Kopaka explained more calmly than he felt about it. “As such, I had to re-evaluate my decision.”
“Right, but then you did it again,” I continued, “with Gali. You apologized to her; the old you wouldn’t have done that. The old you told her off because you resented her for what she let herself become.”
“I still do,” he pointed out, “but you made a sound argument. The Matoran would benefit more from a Gali that conquered her failings than one that publicly went down with them, and as such it was my duty to help get her started, even if it meant telling lies.”
“I don’t think those were all lies, though,” I countered. “You do care for her, and it showed. That apology was genuine.”
“Believe what you will,” he dismissed the idea.
“Regardless, something’s still changed,” I got back on point, “and in light of that I want to ask you to re-evaluate another decision: going back to the mountains.”
“That was never a decision, it was the end goal all along,” he pointed out.
“Semantics,” I scoffed.
“I have already explained why I am going back,” he reiterated once again. “My absence benefits the Matoran more than my presence, and I am doing my duty as I have chosen it up in the mountains.”
“You didn’t make the former argument until you saw what happened with Onua,” I noted, “and the latter doesn’t hold water if you die up there, which is what’s going to happen and you know it. You die up there and no one ever figures out what you found; how does that help the Matoran?”
“In time, you will see,” he sighed, showing exasperation more than the anger that I’d expected. “Patience, Lis, have patience.”
“Oh, so you’ve, say… amended your plan to rectify this issue?” I fished on. “’cause from my point of view it looks like nothing’s changed."
“You could say the plan has been amended,” he acknowledged, “and you will see it soon. For now, I prefer you leave me alone.”
“Of course you do,” I sighed, “and I’m sure your amended plan seems great, just… you were willing to consider what I argued before. Please, do that now.”
“I will,” he promised.
“Thanks.” It came out more half-heartedly than I meant; the whole exchange wasn’t filling me with hope that he’d actually reconsider. “One more thing,” I remembered as I got up.
“Go on,” he invited.
“What did you put on that note?” I asked. Really, he couldn’t have written that much on it. How detailed had his instructions been?
“A hero died today. Please ensure that he is well remembered.” He said it as though we was reciting it.
“That’s all?” The simplicity of the message took me by surprise. No details as to who the hero was or how he should be remembered?
“They knew what to do from there,” Kopaka asserted.
“I suppose so…” I nodded. No argument there; part one of a multi-part special oh Pohatu’s life within hours of his death was far more than I’d expected, even if the production standards of the first part were understandably low-key. I suspected Kopaka felt the same way, but with him already locking me out as he returned to the inner sanctum of his mind, I didn’t ask. He’d told me what I wanted to hear, that he’d consider my proposal, and for all I could decipher that was what he was doing right now… or had he already done it? As I made my way to the front of the car, his amended plan started to occupy my thoughts, too: what could it possibly be, and when was he planning on actually showing me? I preferred it be revealed sooner rather than later, both because of curiosity and so I could attempt to poke holes in it, so to speak. I mean, whatever he’d thought up had to be either a way to stave off disaster, which I reasoned would be folly given that his condition could do naught but deteriorate, or a way to get what he had put together by the time of his death to the Matoran, which still didn’t resolve the fact that he’d be dead whenever it came to fruition. Or was he planning to come back again if he got hurt bad? That was an easy one to argue against; he’d barely made it back in time the first time around, what possible guarantee could he have that he’d be able to make it back the second? Then there was the fact that there’d been hints that this plan somehow involved me; he’d paid for my tickets ever since he’d gone on his way back to New Atero, as clear a sign as any that he intended to keep me around and a marked departure from his previous policy of letting me come along at my own expense so long as it suited him. I spent quite a while trying to reason my way through in this manner, hoping to decipher what his plan was, but in the end I still came up with nothing conclusive.
Nightfall eventually passed without much notice, though a re-broadcast of the first part of the special about Pohatu’s life on a different channel kept me entertained for a while as I spent some time two cars ahead. The only other thing of note that happened was that, halfway through the re-broadcast, the date for Pohatu’s official burial had been decided upon and was announced; almost exactly a week away, a point which was purely academic given that Kopaka would likely be long gone by then unless I had something to say about it. Oh, and whenever Pohatu wasn’t being talked about, the upcoming fight between Tahu and the Porcupine was being trumpeted all over… Apparently, people were working themselves into a frenzy over it, making me all the happier that I wouldn’t be in town when it happened. Still, the thought of the world possibly losing another Toa Nuva so soon was, I admit, a worrying one, and between that, attempting to mimic Kopaka’s reasoning in an effort to figure out his plan, a few drinks in the catering car, and a quick nap back in the last car in the early hours, the hours went by surprisingly quickly for me.
I woke up again shortly before our arrival in Onu-Koro-Nuva. Looking down towards the back of the car, I noticed Kopaka’d taken a break from his usual meditative trance to clean up his blade. I stretched some, walked over, then sat back down to await the arrival at the station and started thinking of how exactly I could quickly get off, put Jahlpu at ease, and then get back on before the train was on the move again. “The train’ll stop only stop for like fifteen minutes, right?” I asked.
“I believe it does,” Kopaka answered as he inspected the blade against the light. “However, I have something to take care of in Onu-Koro-Nuva. We will take the next one instead.”
“We will?” Another stop was not what I’d expected. Given the current interest in Toa after Pohatu’s death, I’d thought that Kopaka was trying to get away as soon as possible, not to loiter around Onu-Koro-Nuva again.
“The train leaving at five would work best,” he continued. “It will be easier to get through Ko-Koro-Nuva if we arrive at night.” Right, not like I wasn’t going to object to him going through… “Until then, put your companions at ease. They likely will have missed your company.”
“Of course…” I rolled my eyes. Yeah, he was probably right concerning Jahlpu, but Lerome and Kirall? I doubted it… for all I’d thought about how Kopaka’d changed over the last few days, in reality the same could be said about me and more, and the new me, if that was the right description, didn’t care so much for their antics anymore. Still, I was curious to hear their thoughts concerning Pohatu’s demise, even if they were likely to be expressed amidst a load of other things that I really didn’t care about.
“So, what do you have to do, then?” I wondered.
“Nothing currently of your concern,” he dismissed as he stowed away the blade.
“Somehow I doubt that,” I complained, but he didn’t reply, apparently set on playing his cards close to his chest in a rather frustrating development. By that point, the train was already slowing down and the station was in sight, which more or less cut the conversation short regardless.
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#####author’s notes: in retrospect, if I knew that Kopaka and Lis’d be making the journey between New Atero and Onu-Koro-Nuva four times throughout the story, I wouldn’t have made it quite so long (the original plan called for one return trip). A lot of this chapter is me attempting to ‘pass the time’ for the characters, or filler, but after the heavy-hitting last few chapters, it made enough sense to slow down for a moment in the lead-up for the conclusion. Hopefully, I can get this done by the end of the summer…
I’ll post more chapters as I finish them. As always, post any questions, comments, and/or observations below. Enjoy!
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