Part 8 - "THE CITY"
“I d-d-don’t think-k th-they’re t-t-tight en-nough.”
“That’s as tight as they go.”
“Did-d-d you chec-ck?”
“That’s as tight as they go.” Vosala patted Orano on the back, nearly causing the smaller Toa to topple over. “Don’t worry! You’ve got this! I have total faith in you!”
“W-why?”
Vosala nearly said something, and then hesitated. “What do you mean, ‘why?’ Did you see yourself in that temple? The way you took on Dark Wind, that was crazy! You’re crazy, man!”
They stood on that same dreadful mountain, watching the star begin to rise over the peaks and pines of the Rimelands. The frost that covered everything made it all shimmer in the growing starlight, as if it was all covered in diamonds. It was beautiful, and yet, in the very distance, Orano could see his city and only imagine what havoc his people, his family, and his friends were all experiencing right now.
Narale stood on a ledge before it all. The freezing wind that rushed up the mountain caused her cloak to billow and grant her a powerful, heroic appearance. She was what Orano had always imagined a Toa would be like. She was fierce, skilled, and commanding. She was independent, and yet, he saw, now, that she was lonely.
“Ahem,” Vosala said.
Narale turned and faced them, her arms crossed. “Yes?”
“Didn’t you see how crazy awesome Orano was back there?”
“Yes, I did. You were awesome, Orano. I-” Narale’s arms lowered, her head bowed, and her eyes closed. She took in a deep breath, held it there, and slowly let it go. “There are many people that I need to apologize to, but you, Orano, are the first. What Vosala said on the cliffs, about me treating you like you needed my protection… That stuck with me, and I think it was because it was true. I don’t know why yet, but I think I needed to feel that way, and it was easy for me to feel that way with you, and it just wasn’t fair and I-”
She was shaking, until Orano reached up and put a hand on her shoulder.
“I f-f-forgive you,” he said. “And-d w-we can talk-k more about it-t later, if-f you w-want-t. B-but right n-now, Dark-k Wind-d is head-ding straight f-for my home, and-d if w-we don’t s-stop h-her…”
“I know,” she said. “Go for it, Orano. I believe in you.”
“Yeah!” Vosala shouted. “Show ‘em how we Toa do it!”
Orano nodded, and breathed. He felt the slow vibration of the rockets mounted to his forearms. He heard the sharp howl of the mountain winds. He felt the power of the air below him, power that the Kanohi granted him control of. He was Orano, the Toa of Air. He leaned forwards, and took a step, and another. He soon was running, and then the cliff went out before him, and he was in the air.
He prepared to scream, but then realized he wasn’t falling. The sharp, powerful gust of air held him fast, thousands of feet above ground. Orano began to laugh nervously.
Vosala went wild with cheering, and Narale even gave a shout of excitement.
And Orano started the rockets, letting them blast him further out into the air, further towards the city, and he flew.
When he was last in Aero City, Elder Saane made a decision he would later come to regret when he chose to try a RushSlush™, a fruity, frosty drink served by a chain of food stations scattered across the city. They even had one named “Great White Gumberry,” named after the ocean he lived next to. And so, on this day, Saane made the decision to visit Aero City again, claiming his purpose was to try to speak with President Sammo once more about uniting the island. When that, expectedly, fell through (Sammo was apparently booked for the next seventeen weeks), Saane eased his disappointment by sipping on a delicious cup of chilled sapphire slush.
He looked out over the city square, the only area in the megalopolis that was not built over. It was a wide circular glade of shinestone brick in the middle of the steel jungle, and it was filled with people even in the midst of the workday. A great majority of them sprinted around, hurrying to get to wherever it was they were going. This was perhaps the greatest difference between this city and his home village. In Mako Village, you had to walk slowly, or else you may miss something. Here, you had to run, or else you would miss something.
What a way to live, he thought to himself, taking a swig of his drink.
But not all lived that way, he noticed. There, in the center of the square, was a small crowd of Matoran, head turned up as they fixated on the sky. He could almost hear their excited conversation, and laughed as he saw them pointing up at a cloud. Was there something odd about its shape? He looked up to see.
Indeed, there was something odd about the cloud, but it wasn’t the shape. What was strange was just how dark it was, a lone cloud in a cerulean sky, hovering just before the star’s searing light, which illuminated in the cloud some sort of outline of a person, as if there was someone contained within the cloud.
Then the city began to quake. It was like a child had scooped up the entire island in its hands and shook it like one of those snowglobes, and Saane’s old limbs crumpled under the force of it. He fell to his knees, and watched in mild despair as the contents of his beverage spilt out from within his cup.
“Hear my voice, Matoran,” a speaker said. It was a low, powerful voice, sounding as if it came from the sky itself. Saane looked back up at the supposed figure in the cloud. The cloud had begun to expand across the sky, covering the city in shadow. “Hear my voice, my people, and be consumed with awe!”
The figure emerged from the cloud and descended. It appeared as a torrent of cloud and winds in the silhouette of an armored woman warrior, and lightning creased across its form in an endless, ever-changing spider web around it.
“T-Toa?” a Matoran called out.
The figure snapped her head towards the fellow, and the place where her eyes would be flashed with emerald light.
That’s no Toa. Toa did not use their power like this.
“Oh, you think they’d be capable of this?” the form said. She lowered herself to the ground and held up her arms. Lightning raced across the clouds. “I am the Dark Wind! I am the Elemental Lord of Air! I am your true champion, not that pathetic squirm-weasel you call ‘Toa!’”
“The Toa are not champions,” Saane called out, his frustration at the misconception overpowering his sense of self-preservation.
The form turned around and flared her eyes once more. “Really? Well, then, old man, what are they?”
“They’re heroes,” said Saane. “They did not choose their fate, but they accepted it. They never use their powers for power’s sake, but for the protection of those around them.”
“You remind me of the Toa from your region,” the woman said. “Defiant, spirited. Naive, obnoxiously so. Truly, I didn’t even know Matoran from the Great White Shores ever left their quiet beaches.”
“My name is Elder Saane,” he said. “I have led the people of Mako Village for the last thirty years or so, and I am witness to the return of the first Toa. And I tell you now, if you harm even one innocent Matoran-”
“Oh, I have no intentions of harming any of you.” The figure shrugged toyishly. “I am here to prove a point. My compatriots and I, many years ago, were denied what the Toa have, but we have risen above those silly toys you call ‘Kanohi.’ We are here, actually, to prove to you common people that you don’t need the Toa. No one does.”
Saane shook his head and hit his staff against the ground. “The Toa are heroes that have been chosen by the will that guides our universe. Do you claim that your will, ‘Dark Wind,’ supersedes that of Destiny?”
Emerald lightning coursed around the Dark Wind’s face, forming the shape of glaring eyes. “Do not speak to me of destiny, old man! Destiny forgot about us four hundred years ago! This is our moment to prove that I was right all along! We will prove ourselves, and you will see that you are safe in our just hands!”
The ground shook again as, from three different corners of the square, three beings of elemental strength appeared. One of fire, one of frozen stone, and one of vines and thorns constricted over a bulbous watery shape.
“The walls are set, Dark Wind,” said the jungle/water Lord, speaking in a gurgling yet sharp voice. “The Matoran of the city will be forced to see our display.”
“Terros, Ignira, Thistle.” the Dark Wind said to her fellow Lords, her emerald eyes locked on Saane with fury. “We prove our might today. And no ounce of destiny, no Toa gets to take that away from us.”
The four Elemental Lords let out a choir of bellows that rang throughout the city streets, and the square broke into a storm of elements. Matoran screamed as vines, ice, earth, flames, and gushes of water burst from the cracking stone of the ground.
Saane, watching the horror, couldn’t help but scowl. “True might doesn’t have to be proven,” he said to himself, the only person who would listen.
A wall had been forged around Aero City. One section was rock and dirt, cast in shapes of steep spires, and matching it, a second made of solid ice in a great wall of similar formations. A third section was made of thorny trunks and growths that entwined into a thick, impenetrable jungle. The final piece was constructed of impossibly tall flames that stood nearly as tall as the buildings they burned around.
And as Orano flew closer to this particular section, he was again surprised; the flames were burning off of the stone that formed the base of the city, consuming it like it would wood or grass. What could any of the Toa do that rivaled power like that?
He landed at the foot of this section. The fires roared like beasts, and the heat was unbearable. What was he doing? He needed help, he needed the others, he needed Narale-
No. He didn’t need them, he only wanted them. It was less than that, actually. He wanted someone else to do it for him. He wanted someone else to wear the mask that he had been given. Not someone like the Dark Wind, of course, but someone who wasn’t him.
But what a bizarre and strange thing Destiny must be, to grant this power to someone who didn’t want it.
Was that why it had been granted to him?
A current of air began to flow through his hands, weaving between his fingers. It swirled and spun and then began to rush. It balled into a sphere in either palm, and Orano felt more wind rushing into his grasp. It compacted into his hands, and soon he felt the strength of a storm in each one.
The strength that had been given to him wasn’t there because he wanted to use it. It was there because he feared it, and so he feared abusing it. In this moment, he was only using it because he had to, because he could only imagine what terror his parents, the Twinventors, his people were feeling at the hands of the Elemental Lords. He didn’t need the power for himself, he needed it for them. And so he would use it.
The wall of fire before him rumbled with immense sound, but Orano could still hear the roar of the winds that swirled in his hands. He thrust his arms together, pressing the twin spheres of air against one another with so much force that each exploded in a massive gust. The wind ripped out in a rushing explosion, a wave of air blasting outwards.
It struck the fire with such intensity that the wall of flame dissipated, and Orano could actually hear an energy-filled shriek as the fire disappeared.
And before him lay the city, its streets and chutes alike empty. Orano stepped up to the scorched stone, and breathed slowly. Could he really do this? Could he really face these guys? Alone?
A gale wove between his fingers. Orano’s power had chosen him. The Elemental Lords had taken theirs. They may have displayed power, but they were afraid of losing it. Their power was never theirs to begin with.
Orano took one last deep breath, and stepped over the blackened stone, and into the city streets.
The Tunnel-Brute’s heartbeat was slow, dangerously slow. Shynali removed her audio receptor from its chest and returned to its head.
“We need your help,” she said to it.
Its eyes were still choked with red mist, courtesy of the cursed Elemental Lord who messed with it, who made it like this.
“What’s wrong with it?” asked Kidoma, leaning on his staff. He was slowly regaining his strength.
“It’s asleep,” Shynali said, her voice creaking with worry. “But it doesn’t know how to wake up.” She reached towards it with her mind and spoke. “Please, friend. We need you now. You’ve already done so much for us, but we need you still.”
“Whelp, I’ll take that as my cue to bid farewell and be on my path,” said Grinner, turning to the party with an outstretched hand, his fingers pulling back to beckon something.
Kidoma let out a sigh, and fumbled through his armor to fish out a small leather pouch. He tossed the whole thing to Grinner. When the bag hit Grinner’s hand, Shynali heard the unmistakable clatter of coins.
“Wait,” said Auru. “Stay with us, Grinner. We could use you in this fight.”
Grinner cackled a little. “I’m sure you could. See ya ‘round, if you last.”
Auru’s eye went wide, and his gaze darted between Grinner, Kidoma, and Shynali. “I don’t believe it! You stuck with us for this long, only to abandon us now?”
Grinner let out a long, weary half-sigh, half-growl. “Look, I did all that for the kid.” He nudged a finger in Kidoma’s direction. “I may have said that Zakaz is not my home, but it used to be. He stopped the monster that tore it apart.”
“Then help us stop these monsters from tearing apart your new home.” Shynali stood up. “Fight with us.”
“No thanks.” Grinner tipped his hat low over his eyes. “This ain’t about Moda Nui. I heard the wind lady. This is a feud between six superpowered maniacs and the Elemental Lords. I don’t get involved with other people’s feuds. So, ‘til our roads cross again…”
Grinner began to turn away, but Auru chased after him. The Toa set a great palm upon the outlaw’s jacket, only to cause him to spin around. Before Auru could say anything, he saw Grinner’s Zamor shooter pointed directly at his chest.
“Think that over again,” said Grinner, his eyes twinkling.
Auru’s arms raised, and he stepped back. “I was wrong. You’re no better than the scoundrels of these Wastes.”
“I never pretended to be.” Grinner holstered the shooter and tipped his hat once again, and with that, was gone, vanished into the morning mists.
“I’m sorry, Auru,” Shynali said, reaching for her friend.
“It’s fine,” said Auru. He walked over to Shynali, but rather than accepting her comfort, pushed past and kneeled beside the Tunnel-Brute. “What can we do for our friend, however?”
The beast let out a low grunt. Auru whimpered, and leapt back.
What? Shynali just shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Kidoma hobbled over, using his staff as a cane. “How did you get it to help us in the first place?”
Shynali laughed, though she wasn’t sure why. “I just… reached for it. With my mind.”
“With your mask?” asked Kidoma.
“Yes?” said Shynali. “It was like there was an invisible arm inside of my head, and I just held it out for the creature to take.”
“Toa of Jungle, indeed,” said Auru, edging away from the Brute. “Is there, perhaps, another way to get to Aero City? Like, a wagon? Or maybe a really fast boat?”
“We can use the Tunnel-Brute,” said Shynali. “I promise.”
“Well, I just think-”
“Are you scared?” asked Kidoma, snickering.
Shynali scowled beneath her mask. “Surely not, he isn’t running and screaming for his life.”
“Oh, but he would be.” Kidoma snickered again. “But the Toa of Earth has to appear so strong! So stoic! So brave!”
“I’m not scared,” said Auru, shaking his head. “I just don’t like… large things.”
“You live on a mountain.”
“Large living things. They shouldn’t be that big.”
“Auru is scared! The big man is scared!”
Shynali shut her eyes, and blocked out Kidoma’s taunting. She could feel the Tunnel-Brute, feel its distant heartbeat. She could sense the red mist cloaking its mind, and somewhere, deep inside, she could feel its thoughts. It was afraid, confused. It didn’t know where it was, or how it came to be there. It felt alone.
Shynali’s father once told her that many great beasts and Rahi alike were dangerous, but some of the dangerous ones were really just alone. If you could offer them a connection, offer them trust, they could prove quite capable companions.
“It’s okay,” she tried to tell it. “You can trust us. We won’t hurt you.”
Her mental limb brushed through the mist, searching for something, anything to grasp onto.
Narale and Vosala ran. They dove through the trees of the Frostglade, weaving through the frozen trunks with great speed. Narale would summon freezing blasts of energy between her fingers and then fling them forth, hitting the ground to create slick ice before her feet reached it. In this way, she was able to skate over the ground at such an immense speed that she was able to keep up with Vosala.
The Toa of Fire ran with both arms held back, his palms out behind him. He pushed a steady jet of flame from either hand, propulsing him forwards. As he sprinted, each time his foot came off of the ground, he would launch another blast of flame from them, pushing him even further.
It must have been impressive to see the two of them speeding through the woods, but Narale couldn’t slow down enough to appreciate it. Her corebeat pounded, churned, and pushed her on, praying that Orano, as powerful as he turned out to be, would still be able to be found by the time they reached Aero City.
And if he won’t be… Narale’s eyes narrowed at the idea. Then there will be nothing that can hide or protect the Dark Wind from me.
She shot a blast of ice back, launching herself forwards, and pressed on.