Oh boy. The first edited part of Chapter 2 doesn’t even leave room for the second. Sorry, double-post haters. This is going to get long.
Chapter 2’s beginning has been edited for simplicity and some added scenes that I hope help the overall story. I think the latter parts still somewhat fade from what I want them to really be, but I think I need to spend some time away from it before I go back and try to fix them.
CHAPTER 2 (EDITED):
Part 1 - "THE INTRODUCTION"
The halls of President Sammo’s great manor were lit by the arching glass windows, raised high above the tallest skyscraper. It was the only building in all of Aero City to be able to witness the star rise and set between the heights of the Iron Mountains. G’Nauli, governor of Granite Town, had always thought the building looked ugly compared to the natural majesty of the mountains she had been raised on, but she had to admit; being inside, looking over the plethora of buildings and pathways of Aero City, all framed in front of the glowing violet starrise, was an unimaginably memorable experience.
Everyone knew that President Sammo had earned his great wealth through the fabric trade. There were innumerable stories of how he fought off entire scores of bandits on his route from the Fauna Jungle with nothing but a bow and a few javelins. The vast spread of tapestries inside the manor depicting Sammo’s heroic stature certainly wouldn’t surprise anyone. G’Nauli looked up at the closest illustration of the emerald-plated, red-eyed Matoran, standing on top of one of the rocky spires of the Crags, cloak billowing in the wind, and admired not the Matoran, but the maker of the tapestry. If there was one thing she felt the Iron Mountains could adopt from Aero City, it was art.
“I’m fairly certain he never got the cloak until after he locked himself away in the manor,” a familiar voice joked.
The governor turned to face the speaker, an instantly recognizable hunched Matoran from the Great White Shores.
“Saane,” she said with a beam.
“G’Nauli, my great friend,” said Saane as his eyes twinkled with a kindly respect. “It is an immense pleasure to see you again.”
The governor towered over the elder, nearly twice his height, but they refused to let that make one another uncomfortable or intimidated in the other’s presence.
“Excellent news, hearing about your nephew,” Saane said. He was leaning upon a wooden shaft, reminiscent of, though not as decorated as his previous staff.
G’Nauli nodded. “I believe I was more thrilled than he. Ara will make an excellent Toa.”
“I know your sister would have been very proud of him,” said Saane.
“She would have been.”
They stood in comfortable silence for a moment before a third companion trudged up behind the two leaders.
“I thought I heard you two,” said Chieftain Kasimi, a Matoran in lime-and-violet plating. He was even shorter than Saane, and waddled along with the pace of a cube-shaped stone rolling down a hill. The Chieftain of Fungi Camp was perhaps the oldest known Matoran, and it was no secret that his core had begun to flicker a while ago. Some among his people debated if he was still fit to lead, but it was still found that he had some great wisdom and knowledge in his old age.
“Kasimi, how are you faring?” asked Saane. His words were aimed at a friend.
“I recently heard,” Kasimi said with an innocent grin, “of these miraculous heroes. They called them… Oh, what was it… That’s right, Toa!” His vocal speakers were blown out, crackling and fizzling with every syllable. “Impressive creatures, I hear. Did you know that old Fogfa’s girl was one? Shanila, I believe. You should go ask Fogfa for yourselves, he seems very excited about the prospect!”
Neither G’Nauli nor Saane bore the courage to tell him that the new Toa of Jungle’s name was “Shynali,” and her father, Fogfa was… Well, he was gone.
“Thank you for doing this,” said G’Nauli, quickly changing the subject as she turned to Saane. “There’s going to be a lot of attention put on you for instigating this meeting, but you really stepped up here, in a way I believe we all needed you to.”
“The reunion of us leaders has been something that’s needed to happen for a long time,” said Saane. “And with everything that’s been going on, now’s a better time than ever before.”
“Sammo, Qualis, and Losla have all suddenly become strangely hostile,” G’Nauli said, genuine fret in her low-throated tone. “What you’re doing, it definitely goes against their beliefs in independence.”
“We are six islands,” Kasimi said, “but one people.”
Saane looked at his ancient friend and nodded. “Indeed. And we, as six peoples, one island, need to stand together in the face of this new threat. Perhaps the Toa will guide us in that.”
G’Nauli smirked. “I want you to be right, Saane. As always.”
Saane winked. “Am I ever wrong?”
“Yes, in fact,” disputed G’Nauli. “You once told me that Takea Sharks-”
“I sincerely hope I am not interrupting anything,” a pristine, calm voice interrupted. It belonged to the Lord Qualis of Frostglade, a slender Matoran with a rigid, straight posture and a leaned back head, the perfect angle to let the most amount of light glisten off of his golden crown. “I was wondering if any of you were aware as to how long Sammo was intending on keeping us.”
Before G’Nauli could respond, “I assume not long,” Saane confessed, “It was actually I who called the meeting. President Sammo was kind enough to host, however.” G’Nauli knew that wasn’t entirely true. The self-concerned president had simply insisted he not be removed from his desk.
“Oh,” said Qualis as he shot a glare at Saane with his violet eyes. “Very well. Are you aware how long you’ll be keeping me from my duties?”
“I can assure you, what I have for us to discuss today will directly correspond with your most urgent duties, Lord Qualis,” promised Saane.
The nobleman seemed to wait for more explanation, unsatisfied that he still wasn’t directly answered.
Just then, a tall, broad-shouldered woman in crimson plating and silver pauldrons marched in, triumphantly approaching the four leaders with pride and gusto. As she neared, Saane and Kasimi snapped a salute at her, though G’Nauli and Qualis each refused.
“It’s true what they say,” G’Nauli said. “Supreme Major Losla is never early.”
“And she is never late!” barked the Matoran admiral as she stomped into attention. “She is always exactly where she is expected to be at exactly the time she is expected to be there!” She examined the lot. “Greetings, fellow generals. I trust the war has been treating you all well?”
“War?” Kasimi said. He frantically scanned the room and placed his hands over his crouched head. “Is it really so?”
“No,” G’Nauli said, crossing her bulky arms. “The Supreme Major’s just being overenthusiastic, like she is about everything.”
Losla unleashed a mighty guffaw, breaking her stance to clench her gut.
Qualis rolled his eyes. “Will someone please get Sammo? I can’t believe I’m putting up with this…”
The oak doors before them suddenly creaked open and a young Matoran stepped out. “Yes, President Sammo will see you all now.” She gently removed herself from the door, opening it further to let them all in.
As G’Nauli immersed herself in the office of the President of Aero City, she was immediately forced to strain her eyes in order to see. The only source of light was an oil lamp set on the President’s desk, the window covered up by some heavy curtain. G’Nauli could barely even see Sammo himself, his glowing eyes like two red candles, each trapped in a tiny cave. His forest green armor, nothing like the emerald of the tapestry, almost looked black in the faint light. He was thumbing through several parchments, barely casting a glance at the entrants.
“President Sammo,” greeted Saane. “What an honor it is to be invited here, especially with the recent appearance of the sixth Toa-”
“Please, Elder,” said Sammo. “I mean no disrespect, but I have only been able to spare a quarter-hour for this meeting, and I would be most gratuitous if you would reduce your pleasantries to the mere essentials.”
It took all of G’Nauli’s mental fortitude not to attack Qualis as he let out a relieved sigh.
Saane paused for a moment. He regathered his thoughts, and then preceded, “As I am sure we are all aware, there are strange events occurring all over Moda Nui. The Great White Shores have experienced storm after storm, the Iron Mountains a raised frequency of avalanches caused by earthquakes-”
“The trees are movin’ in the jungle!” Kasimi added.
“Yes, thank you, Kasimi. And then the whirlwinds in Aero City happening nearly every other day, now-”
“The happenings of Aero City are not supposed to be public knowledge,” Sammo said with a frown.
“But they are,” Saane said. “As are all the meteorological phenomena across the island. You must hear me, leaders, that I believe something grave is happening. I believe that it is, in fact, the reason for the sudden return of the Toa, after their many years of disappearance.”
“So,” asked Qualis, “what is it we are supposed to do?”
“For one, I believe a meeting of the Toa is next to imperative,” said Saane. “Two, I think it is vital that we act. Gather forces, explore the island, find out where these events are starting and, most importantly, what is causing them.”
“Or who,” G’Nauli said.
In the dim light, Saane nodded. “Or who.”
“So, what you are requesting,” Losla questioned, “is that we gather our valuable numbers and use them to investigate some weather mages that may or may not exist?”
“For the safety of the safety of all the people of Moda Nui, yes,” said Saane.
“This is ridiculous,” Qualis voiced. He looked on the verge of storming out the door.
“I must admit, I do believe our attention is better diverted in matters other than the weather,” said Sammo, crumpling up the sheet of parchment he was studying.
“Don’t you all get it?” cried G’Nauli. “The Toa have returned for a reason! They are a forewarning of something that’s coming! They’re not here just to be leaders, or thrown around like celebrities!” She pointed at Major Losla.
“Vosala serves as the spokesperson of the Anviltouched Army by choice,” said Losla, a bit taken aback.
“Listen to Saane! He’s the only one of you who has any sort of clue about what’s going on, or what to do!” G’Nauli said with a growl.
“G’Nauli, please, I don’t mean for this to-” Saane began.
“Out,” Sammo ordered under the harshness of his breath. “All of you. You have wasted my time, as you have wasted each other’s.”
“President, please!” Saane said, now panicked. “Please, do not let your pride allow you to ignore what’s happening! Because something is happening!”
Sammo suspired heavily as he finally looked up from his work. “I believe it would be beneficial for the Toa to meet. But if this mess - whatever it is - does happen to be more than a few inconveniences, it should be up to them to solve. We six each have a population to lead. We just can’t be concerned about the island as a whole. That would disrupt the system we have worked so hard to uphold.”
“Excellent statement, sir!” said Losla, snapping a salute towards him.
“Yes, indeed,” said Qualis, giving G’Nauli a sharp-eyed glare.
G’Nauli felt her hands fold into fists, fists that she had trained to break entire tree trunks beneath their force.
“So we can at least agree,” Saane said, trying to cover his disappointment, “that our Toa should partake in a gathering, but that any further action will be up to them and them alone.”
Qualis and Sammo each nodded. Losla shot another salute.
“Of course,” grunted G’Nauli, folding her arms.
“Yes, I think the Toa…” Kasimi began.
The other leaders each looked at him, waiting for him to finish. He never did.
“Well, then, as I have asked, would you all please dismiss yourselves from my office? I have plenty of documents to examine, and the stack is not getting any shorter,” Sammo said, with slightly less fury in his tone.
G’Nauli and Saane looked at each other.
“What do we do?” she asked him.
Saane shook his head. “Hope for the Toa,” he said, as he began to turn away. “Thank you for your time, Mr. President. I am sorry you did not find it beneficial.”
Kasimi and G’Nauil trailed shortly behind, while Losla and Qualis gave them a loose follow several feet back.
The Governor pushed past her two friends and streamed straight for the stairs, ignoring the wind chute entrance directly next to them. She needed to blow off some energy.
Fools, all of them, G’Nauli thought to herself as she stomped down the 320 flights of stairs. The Toa will show them how we should be acting.
Toa Orano stood just inside the entrance to the Kini Center of Gathering, his back pressed against the mossy stone of its walls. The stone wasn’t actually as old as it may lead an observer to believe - in fact, the “moss” was primarily just fuzzes of fabric stuck along its archaic style of architecture to give it the ancient impression it was anticipated to have. Orano always thought it stood out of place next to the glimmering congregation of glass and steel skyscrapers that enveloped it. The Center was a hexagonal building, mounted with a great domed roof housing only miniscule indents to provide natural starlight inside.
As far as Orano could recall, he had never been on the inside of this building before, but he felt a warm familiarity to it. A piece of him felt at peace here, as if he had just returned to a home that he was only just now discovering for the first time.
Voices echoed through the hall, coming from a series of figures standing in its center. Orano was able to recognize them from their colors alone - the immense, burly figure of silver and black was most likely Toa of Earth, Toa Auru, from the Iron Mountains, and the slender white and faded blue woman was certainly Toa Narale, Toa of Ice, from the Rimelands. The bright leaf green and neon fuchsia designated Toa Shynali, Toa of Jungle, of the Fauna Jungle, and the vibrant crimson and amber-colored Toa of Fire was the famous Toa Vosala of the Flickering Wastes.
Since Orano had entered, Vosala was speaking in a bold and prominent voice that seemed to captivate Auru and Shynali, but, judging from her dropped gaze and impatient foot-tapping, bored Narale. Orano felt strange, standing here and watching, but he was more afraid of jumping into their conversation, uninvited. It was their first time meeting, and he had to make a good impression straight off the bat or lose any hopes of being seen as an equal member for their time together.
“…so I picked up the torch and funneled my power through it, creating…” Vosala whipped out a red cylinder and tipped it to the sky. A flash of flames swirled around his arm and into the trinket, launching from its end and forming a beautiful pointed blade of fire.
Auru broke into awestruck applause. When clapped together, his gauntlets created powerful metallic thuds that reverberated the ground a little with each strike.
“Fire sword!” Vosala yelled. “Please, hold your applause until the end, I haven’t gotten to the best part yet!”
Immediately, Auru went still.
“Where are the others?” wondered Narale, turning to Shynali. “Our leaders all agreed upon this time, correct? Our assembly is still two members short.”
Shynali nodded slowly. “We did agree upon this time. That is correct.”
“For being such a great hero, Toa Kidoma sure could work on his punctuality,” grumbled Narale, folding her arms beneath her cloak.
“Do you think it’s true?” asked Vosala.
“What?” she said back.
“The story about the pirates,” he answered. “Did he really fight an entire fleet of them?”
Shynali looked back and forth between them. “That is what has been said, has it not? Do we suspect him of lying? For what reason?”
Narale blinked, unphased by the questions. “Mako Village is a small town, with hardly any relevance or significance to the daily operation of many of the greater Moda Nui. If any event were to occur there, it would likely receive great embellishment as a desperate attempt to grab at popularity.” She shook her head. “It’s a sad motive and a petty act, I’m afraid.”
“My aunt says that honesty is one of the most apparent virtues of Elder Saane,” said Auru, scratching his mask. Orano suddenly noticed the lack of a second emerald eye, its remains hidden behind a dark cloth patch sewn behind his Kanohi. “If the Toa is anything like his people’s leader, then I believe him to be a good and truthful Matoran.”
Narale crossed her thin arms and shut her eyes.
“Little Toa,” Shynali said. Orano tried to follow her gaze, tracing who she was referring to, only to find her staring directly at him. “Please, displace yourself from the shadows. You are welcome here.”
As Orano stepped out, he saw seven eyes locked onto him. He wished, right now, he could shrink back to his Matoran self. Escape their stares, become like he once was - invisible. “I-I’m s-s-sorry, I’m-m l-late,” he said.
“No, you are not,” said Shynali. “You snuck through the door at the precise moment of our meeting’s start. The others didn’t notice. Tell us, what is your name?”
“You do not know?” Auru asked. “This is Toa Orano! Hero, chosen by the fabricated winds! Out of the multitudes living here in Aero City, he is the one bestowed the power of the Kanohi!”
“He is little,” said Vosala, looking up and down at Orano’s hunched form. “Not much larger than a Matoran!”
“In the Iron Mountains,” Auru said, “there are legends told about heroes of short stature! I am sure Toa Orano will be no different.”
“So,” said Toa Narale, drawing her cloak over herself, “I do believe that we should begin. We all have places to be, I imagine? Let us discuss the matters at hand, whatever they may be, and dismiss ourselves.”
“Toa Kidoma still hasn’t-” Auru began.
“If he does not bother to be here on time, then he has wasted our respect. Why should we respect him with our patience?”
“We are like a pack, as I have come to understand,” said Shynali. “Packs are only as strong as the bonds between its members.”
“How long do you intend to wait, then?” asked Narale.
“Yeah, if we wrap up in the next hour, I can still make it back to the Flickering Wastes in time for another coliseum match!” said Vosala.
The doors were suddenly thrown open, and a rush of water came in. It flew towards the gathering at impressive speed before deviating from its course to swirl around them in a cyclone. It spun and swirled and rose, before exploding in a burst of rain that poured upon the Toa.
“Introducing… Hero of Mako Village and the world…” A figure, who had been inside the wave of water, landed upon the ground, a rod in hand with a glowing blue point. The entrant spun the rod, creating a hypnotic circle of light before he slammed the weapon at the ground, point upwards. “Toa Kidoma!” he shouted.
Auru exploded into applause, Vosala grumbled out of jealousy, and Narale grumbled out of pure annoyance.
“Excellent show!” cheered Auru. “Again, again!”
The figure, a lean, cobalt character, began to laugh. “Glad you all liked it! I’ve been practicing it for a while, making sure it was just perfect for you guys!”
“Is that why you are so late?” Narale asked, wiping water off of her mask and armor.
“Oh, was I?” asked Kidoma. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be. You guys, weren’t, like, waiting, were you?”
“It does not matter,” Auru said. “We are here. We are united, for the first time in the collective legend they will surely tell of us! Let us treasure this moment, for it is truly monumental!”
And so, some of them did treasure this moment. Others, however, would need to learn to, for the unity of the Toa, and the good of Moda Nui.