This is the first chapter in my new story, RISING SONS, a sequel to OPERATION VINDICTA. It’s still not finished yet though this is what I have done so far.
Artakha pounded left and right, the green armor on his right arm rattled as it shook nervously. For about a week now the raid on his island haven had been the only thing he could bother to think about, not repairing the tools and trinkets Matoran left on his doorway or ways to capture the awe of beings from all around by constructing the impossible. No, the being wouldn’t dare to let light pool into his grandiose forge now. What if someone were to break in and try to attack him? What if someone were to destroy all that he created? All these worries, the fear of another attack, could only continue to pile onto the beings broad shoulders.
Though just that second, a heavy pounding came on his forge, it’s force and sound boomed across the spacious, hemispheric walls. Artakha stormed frantically towards an anvil, blurting out what he usually said nowadays, “Your presence is not needed at this moment! Please leave or I’ll be forced to use my power.”
“Then who would inform you of the perpetrator behind the raid?”
A female voice came from behind the door, one the mighty ruler could almost immediately identify from. She had finally come and he couldn’t be more proud racing to open the door, unveiling a frail, war tattered figure. “Ah, my dearest Helryx,” the two softly bowed their heads in gratitude as Helryx slipped inside, “it has been some time.” The Toa of Water softly nodded, her eyes wide with shock as she skimmed his sunken figure. How unpleasant it felt to be this way in front of a figure he saw on his level of power. He clenched the handle of one of his forging tools in hopes to regain that sense of superiority as Helryx quickly shut the door. “Well, coming here after being slammed by an aircraft several times wasn’t my original intention.” She grunted, placing her arm under her chest. “But I figured you were close by so I’d give you an update on our progress.”
“Splendid,” Artakha cleared his throat, gruff with age, gesturing his head towards the forge “This way if you please.”
The two marched their way down the linear pathway, faint breezes sweeping through the cracks and crevices of Helryx’s tattered armor. “You sure have a way of keeping your g-guests feel welcome” she said condensing her shoulders. Artakha looked to the Toa of Water and sighed, “I do apologize sincerely for these conditions. The raid has left me …twiddling my thumbs as of late, pondering how to resolve this issue.” The two reached the forge and planted themselves on some benches, Artakha eventually continuing on. “Thus my labors and deeds have ceased to a halt, the golden flames that should provide warmth dwindling away with them,” He rests his clasped fists on the top of the forge and softly looks to the door, “and oh does it pain me to hear the sounds of my Matoran knocking at the door, chanting for me to repair this, create that-”