Origins: The Story of Maethor

If you're reading this, you may want to see my actual Self-MOC which is here.

Now onto the chapter:

Chapter 1

Can’t….Breathe….

This single thought penetrated every corner of his mind. How he got there was a mystery, he couldn’t even remember who he was at the moment. He could see nothing but he knew he was submerged in water and he could feel it rushing through his nostrils and into his lungs. He gasped, allowing more water into his system. He felt a strong hand pull at his armor and drag him into breathable air. He sputtered and spit water. He opened his eyes but still could see nothing.

“So Maethor,” a voice broke through all the noise of his own sputtering and coughing.

Maethor he thought yes that’s my name. I am Maethor.

“Forsooth, I expected better from someone of thy stature,” the voice continued. It was cold and calm but distinctly feminine.

“Where is your honor?” Maethor demanded. “Or have you none? You would deny me the ability to see my opponent?”

“Honor,” the voice continued, as if scoffing, “undervalued are the traits of days bygone. Some wouldst surely consider thou a foolhardy being for upholding such a thing as honor.”

“It is true,” Maethor continued, “honor is lost among most. I, however, am different.”

“How art thou to be considered different?”

“Honor, loyalty, and courage are the Three Virtues I live by.”

There was silence for a few seconds but to Maethor it seemed a lifetime. He felt his blindfold removed and for the first time laid eyes on the Toa Helryx. Maethor was speechless and instead of trying to say something he took this opportunity to scan his surroundings. He was on his knees in a tub of water with a great log across his shoulders and his arms bound to it tightly with cords. Something felt out of place to him though. He ignored the nagging feeling that he had lost something and returned his gaze to Helryx. His confidence had returned and he opened his mouth for the first time since his blindfold had been removed.

“Toa Helryx,” he said slowly, “you are exactly the person I had intended to see when I came to this island.”

“Is that so?” Helryx asked, still as calm as ever, “For what purpose wouldst thou desire to converse with me?”

“I desire purpose in my life. For years, I have lived on an icy island, pondering why I have been placed on this world. In my meditation, I created my own Three Virtues: Honor, Loyalty, and Courage. I want to put my skill to use and I have heard that you are the head of an organization which uses persons such as myself to carry out the will of Mata Nui.”

“Verily,” Helryx began, “verily thou hast spoken truth. However it is not wise that I should consider thy word as truth simply for the reason thou hast spoken.” She stopped and pointed to something behind Maethor. Maethor couldn’t turn but he felt the ties on his rest being cut and the log across his back was removed. A wave of relief washed over him as the weight dissipated. He suddenly had the feeling something was missing. Again he pushed the thought aside and turned to see a large, red-armored being striding toward Helryx.

“I shall introduce you to Cordir,” Helryx said, “he is considered mighty amongst my warriors. Thou shalt do battle with him during which I shall evaluate thy level of skill.”

Maethor nodded in compliance and rose shakily to his feet. He felt far weaker than he would normally have felt.

“Rules,” he said gasping; feeling weaker by the second.

“Rules are a petty hindrance and we abide by few,” Helryx said slyly and cracking a smile, the first sign of emotion she had shown since the conversation had begun.

Maethor could play with no rules, but he still had his own. Cordir acted first. Producing a mace from his backpack, he swung down with all his strength to smash Maethor. Maethor acted quickly and dived out of the way as the mace hit the floor, cracking the marble. Cordir was angry and Maethor could see it in his eyes. Maethor was having trouble enough as it was, he could not be rid of the feeling that he had lost something as he gasped for air and wearily prepared to dodge another of his opponent’s blows.

Cordir swung hard and would have crushed Maethor had he not moved quickly. Maethor jumped around Cordir and ran toward the wall, leaping he planted both feet on the wall and pushed off. He reached for his backpack which housed his weapon of choice but realized that he was not wearing a pack. He could not stop at this point however so he quickly formulated another plan. He put his hands out in front of him and pushed all of his elemental energies in order to freeze Cordir in place. Cordir was not frozen; rather nothing more than a light snowfall touched him. A confused Maethor slammed into an angry Cordir, both of them hitting the ground harder than they wished.

Helryx, it seemed, was barely able to contain her laughter. Cordir pushed Maethor over onto the floor as he rose. Maethor began to black out when he heard the sound of metal scraping across the marble floor. He looked up in time to see his white Pakari sliding toward him.

So he thought that’s what was missing. And with that he slipped into unconsciousness.