The Chronicler Of Prophecies (Anniversary contest entry)

Was hoping to do a video entry telling this story however recently fell rather ill so guess its going to have to be literature. RIP voice… :sweat_smile:

Hope you enjoy regardless :3

=The Chronicler Of Prophecies=

It all began with the ancient ones, vast deities that controlled the six elements, presided over by an ancient creature known only as ‘The First’. They say the deities created this island with the hopes of uniting those from six continents that made up this vast oceanic world on which we reside. Each segment split from its home and combined to form our island. The seas being insurmountable even for the bravest of protectors, filled with creatures beyond comprehension whose sight alone is capable of driving even a member of the calm minded Ice tribe to insanity.

As a member of the Jungle tribe, I was given the tests passed down via our forefathers in order to determine whether we had the gift of visions. While every Jungle protector has the ability to see visions of potential futures, only the select few are ever taught how to determine which of these visions are real. Though after foreseeing a vision of six stars falling to the ground I was promptly disregarded.

While our village elders used to believe heavily in the Prophecy Of Heroes passed down through the generations, years of false prophecies and attacks from the vicious Skull Spiders that surround the islands centre have driven many to disregard the path destiny has set. While some are gifted with the ability to have visions of the future, others chronicle what little of the past survives on our island.

As such I was given the task of recording the history of this island and its many legends. Spanning thousands of generations, passed down via Chroniclers Of Prophecies such as myself. A never ending chain of recording and cataloguing ever sector of the island. I often found myself searching the vast swamps for more of the ruins left by the great awakening. The ancient ruins dating back to the first islanders many generations ago, islanders united by the two Mask Makers, Ekimu and his brother Makuta.

It was a simpler time of creation as our island flourished thanks to the masks they created, enabling our elders to shape the island creating massive structures such as The Great Forge. A forge created to honour the two mask makers. A forge capable of both making masks to contain the elements and also removing the elements from any mask, returning them to the island from which they were made. It was this which sparked the idea of every village being equal. The masks being made equally and each sector of the island focused around a specific task to better the lives of all villagers.

The Ice charmers, given the task of scouring the mountain slopes to gather the magic essence that was collected via the icy winds. Capable of deriving pure magic that allowed the creation of masks and the harmony of all life on Okoto.

The Water warriors, born with the ability to survive the ocean currents attempting to explore the surrounding regions of Okoto. From the watery depths of the now sunken cities to the crystalline shores of Keali beach.

The Stone nomads capable of roaming the vast deserts and braving the sandstorms that plagued there land. Shifting through the constantly changing surroundings to search for the lost cities that were consumed so long ago by the sands.

The Earth movers, tasked with digging out the rarest of all substances, Protodermis. The core substance that all masks are made from, combined with other minerals to create the Masks of power worn by Makuta and Ekimu.

The Fire hunters, born with a insurmountable need for warmth and energy this group practices the cultures that maintain the customs of Okoto. Visiting the ancient temples on almost ritualistic basis. Despite living in some of the harshest environments they could always be relied upon to offer a helping hand to any strangers that they discovered on their travels.

Though even the Jungle villagers with there powers of foresight were not able to read the prophecies of the Mask Makers, whose powerful masks shielded their destinies from us. Our tribe unable to prevent the betrayal of Ekimu by his brother, nor the ensuing battles that took place.

The island cracked and the sea churned as the mask makers fought. Makuta driven by a dark magic residing in a mask he created, a mask of Ultimate Power. A mask forged from the six elements that bound Okoto together and now threatened to rip it apart. Sectors of the Water region broke away, sliding into the sea, as the ground split creating what is now known as the great whirlpool. Releasing from within it the Skull Spiders that would plague us for generations to come.

With Makuta defeated, Ekimu passed down the prophecy of heroes, a legend that timeless beings called Toa would arrive to protect us, before passing into a deep sleep. The elders laid Ekimu to rest, gifting him his first creation, the mask of telepathy. So that one day there would be those who could find and re-awaken him. Granting him protection via the mightiest of all methods, allowing the sleeping creator to fall into legend.

Without guidance the ancient city succumbed to the fear and might of the Skull Spider hordes, villagers would disappear in the dead of night never to be heard from again. Strange cocoons would appear hanging from the bridge, the sole entry to the ancient city. The darkest of times fell upon our island as tribes once brought together fled to their sectors in desperation.

The conflicts between the Skull Spiders and the village sectors have grown worse recently, news from the Fire region states that another village fell today along the border. They are heading this way. I’m not sure If our villagers intend to stay, the elders seem desperate, unsure of the next step.

Though as I stare up at the stars in the nights sky, I know there is hope. Hope that these legendary warriors of time can save us from the scourge of Makuta and the horrors he has unleashed upon our island.

Toa Lewa put down the battered journal and looked around at what remained of the now cocoon covered jungle village. The Toa made no verbal response as he closed his eyes, nodding solemnly in acknowledgement of the lives he had failed to save, as the air currents swirled around him and he took off into the sky heading towards the ancient city of Okoto.


Aw man. That ending is depressing. :frowning:


this is a genius explanation, thanks for the headcanon scar

also this was a great story, sad ending though


I liked this story.

Up until the ending.

It explains quite a bit.