Ka pū te ruha, ka hao te rangatahi.
“The old net is cast aside, while the new net goes catching.”
Everyone talks about how they miss the old Bionicle’s mystique. So it seemed fitting to create a fanfiction that’s based upon such desires.
This utilizes Bionicle concepts such as Matoran and Agori, however it takes place in a world completely unrelated to the Generation 1 storyline.
Glossary:
Ahurewa - Elite priest; oracle. Has the ability to speak directly to Titans.
Airani - A system of islands home to a specific ethnicity of Matoran.
Ali’i(nui) - Ruling class member. The Ali’inui is the ruler of an Airani.
Ariki - King of all the Matoran.
Fifi - Organization dedicated to devotion towards one deity. Consists of storytellers, musicians, and dances. They were headed by the Kahuna class.
Kahuna - Priest class member
Koa - Soldiers.
Mana - A powerful energy that connects all living things. Different organisms have different mana.
Whare(nui) - A meeting house. There is one Whare on each island. The capital island of an Airani features a Wharenui, where yearly meetings take place. The Whare is attended by local landowners, and is presided over by the local Ali’i. The Wharenui is a gathering of all the Airani’s Ali’is, and is presided over by the Airani’s Ali’inui.
Titans:
Basically gods, however they are confined to a single body.
Ta’aroa - Creation Deity (n/a)
Ranginui - The Sky Father (M)
Papanui - The Earth Mother (F)
Tu - War, Hunting (M)
Taine - Forests, Birds (M)
Haine - Death (F) (Daughter of Taine)
Rongo - Agriculture (M)
Haumia - Wild plants (M)
Tawhiri - Storms (M)
Tangaroa - Ocean (M)
Punga - Ugly things (M) (Son of Tangaroa)
Ikatere - Fish (M) (Son of Punga, grandson of Tangaroa)
Tu-te-wanawana - Reptiles (M) (Son of Punga, grandson of Tangaroa)
Pele - Fire (F)
Kane - Sun (M)
Poli’ahu (F) (Daughter of Kane)
Kamapua’a - Rahi (M) (Half-Titan, Half-Matoran)
Chapter 1:
“Rua, they’re coming!”
“I know, get over here and help me lower it into the cellar.”
“No, like I mean I can see them down the road!”
“Arg! Uh … here, dump it behind the bushes.”
“But then they’ll get dirty.”
“We can wash them later, get over here and help!”
Naihi ran over to the back side of her brother’s hut and helped him dump the wheelbarrow full of yams into a bunch of large ferns. They then helped each other crawl into the back window of the house just as the group of Koa arrived at their door.
“In the name of Ariki Rakena, sovereign of all Matoran, yield your tributes!” said a voice from outside.
Rua grabbed a large crate of yams and hauled them to the front of the hut while Naihi opened the door for him. On the other side stood three burly Matoran who wielded boar-tusk spears in their hands. They had spiny puffer fish skins on their heads, a symbol of authority for the Koa warriors.
“Here you go,” said Rua as he placed the crate in front of them.
“How many are there?” asked the one in front.
“Exactly twelve hundred. Myself and my sister counted them ourselves.”
The Koa signaled to a servant back on the main road, who hauled a sled over to where they stood. He took the crate of yams and placed them on it before dragging it back to where he was originally.
“Show us your property,” said the Koa.
“Our property?”
“Yes. We want to see all of the land that you own.”
“There isn’t much to it. Just yam fields and a water well.”
The Koa placed his spear at Rua’s throat. “We want to see your yam fields.”
“Didn’t the Fa-Ali’i recently give farmers the right to deny a search?”
“We have probable cause.”
The Koa shoved Rua aside and entered the house. Naihi tried to stop them, but they were able to knock her over as well. They did a very thorough search. In fact, it was so thorough that they felt the need to confiscate several pieces of woodcutting artwork that Naihi had made, Rua’s farming equipment, and their deceased father’s hunting spear. This was, of course, because they had the reasonable suspicion to do so.
The Koa also took the liberty to check around the house where, lo and behold, among the ferns was the rest of Rua and Naihi’s yam offering that he had “forgotten” to give them. After loading up the rest of it onto the sled, they took about five minutes to beat both of them senseless before moving on.
When she came to, Naihi found herself lying in the middle of her trashed hut. Rua was sitting next to her, nursing a wound he had taken to the back of his head.
“Wonderful …” he muttered. “They took our yams, they took the means in which we make more yams, they took your sculptures, and they took old Taanga’s spear.”
Naihi looked around. “It’s going to take us forever to clean this place up.”
“And to add to all of this, we’ve hardly enough yams to make us through the next growing season.”
Naihi got up and peered out the window. The sun was almost set, meaning that the Koa were long gone now. Any hope of retaking their yams left with them.
“I’m sick of it all!” Rua shouted. “I’m sick of our labor being stolen by the Koa. What do they even use them for? To feed the Kahuna? The only thing they do is sit around and read prophecies all day! Or to feed the Ali’i? They do even less activity, the only thing they do is mediate disputes between attendees of the Whare!”
“Well what are we going to do about it?” interjected Naihi. “It’s not like we can just go to the Koa stronghold and politely ask for our yams back. Complaining about the way things work isn’t going to solve anything.”
“Then what do you suggest we do? Our fields have been exhausted over and over again, and neither Rongo nor Poli’ahu seem to be interested in helping us. If we stay and try to grow another harvest, we’re surely doomed!”
“I … don’t … know …”
“Well neither do I! We’re poor! Dirt poor! It’s not like we’ll gain anybody’s sympathy because half of the island is poor as well! I’m sick of this place! I’m sick of Fa-Airani! I’m sick of this ocean!”
“Then what are you going to do? Hitch a ride on a canoe and go be one of those stowaways? Flee to a different island in search of a better life? Or go join the Ga-Matoran in their smuggling affairs?”
Rua paused for a moment.
“Don’t tell me you’re actually considering it!” exclaimed Naihi.
“What options do I have? It’s either leave the island or starve.”
“And what’s going to keep you from starving on a different island.”
“I don’t know.”
“Then why run the risk?”
“Because if we leave, there’s a possibility of us starving. But if we stay here there’s a guarantee.”
Naihi turned around and folded her arms. “Then go.”
“What?”
“Then go! If you want to go make a better life for yourself, then do it!”
“You’re not coming?”
“Of course not! I’m staying here because this is our … my land. You can stake a claim elsewhere, but as for now this is my home.”
Rua narrowed his eyes. “Fine.” He turned around and walked out of the hut, into the world blanketed by the darkening sky above. When he got to the main road he turned right and walked towards the sea.