It’s been a while, huh? Yeah, sorry about that. I’ll be more active in the future, don’t worry. In any case, I’ve finally finished part 3 of The Mountain! It’s quite a bit longer than the last couple parts, so instead of posting the entire thing here, I’ll just post an excerpt from the beginning and give you the link to where you can read the whole thing. Hope you enjoy!
Muini stood in the midst of a storm. A whirlwind of thick, heavy snowflakes swirled around him, turning his entire world into a gray blur. The monstrous howling of wind was practically deafening, and with every step through the waist-deep snow drifts he had to fight to keep his footing. To top it all off, it was cold - so cold that even Muini, a hardened Toa of Ice, was shivering. The worst part of all, though, was not the chill that bit into his bones, nor the wind that threatened to knock him off his feet, nor even the hunger that wracked his biological parts - it was the fact that he was lost.
Three days before, he had abandoned his town of Nuvaniq to rescue Turaga Nilak, who had been kidnapped by a Rahkshi. Holoh, the captain of Nuvaniq’s Blizzard Guard, had urged him not to go; to help rebuild the town instead. Muini had ignored her suggestions and now he was paying the price.
At the time, it had seemed so important. Nilak was the Turaga who had made Muini into the Toa he was, both literally and metaphorically. To even think about abandoning him to the clutches of the Makuta was beyond unconscionable. And yet, as Muini fought through the roaring blizzard, he found himself siding more and more with Holoh. How could he have been so selfish; so foolish? He had abandoned the town in perhaps its time of greatest need; abandoned the Matoran he was sworn to protect. All for what? To rescue a mentor who he knew would not approve of his actions? It made Muini’s stomach churn.
And now, just to amplify his regret and guilt, the Toa of Ice was lost. He had lost. The Rahkshi’s trail had long since faded. His own trail back was gone with it. In the storm, he couldn’t track the sun or even make out any landmarks. He was reduced to blindly stumbling forward in the dark, hoping against hope that he would find something… and that he would still have a town to go back to when the storm subsided. If the storm subsided.
Muini could do little else but trudge forward. Each step forward felt like he had thousand-pound weights attached to his ankles, and he was far too tired to focus on using his Pakari to help. He looked up, praying for some sign from the Great Spirit. There was nothing but clouds and darkness above him.
I didn’t think Mata Nui was a vengeful being, Muini thought, pausing in his tracks to catch his breath. But I must admit, this is a fitting punishment.
With the howling gales overpowering his senses, Muini couldn’t hear or see anything that wasn’t directly in front of his face, and the cold ensured he couldn’t feel anything at all. But as he stood, hunched over and breathing heavily, he caught the faintest whiff of musky scent. Instinct seized his body, and he dove for the snowy ground - just as a shadowy shape sailed through the space his body had just occupied.
Adrenaline shot through his veins, allowing Muini to leap to his feet. A few yards away, he saw the lithe form of a Mountain Wolf silhouetted against the blizzard. The Rahi’s eyes glowed a cold blue in the night, and its white fangs were bared.
Muini activated his mask, and immediately strength flooded his weary limbs. He grabbed his shield off his back just as the wolf lunged forward again. It smashed into his shield with the force of a Tarakava’s punch, knocking the Toa from his feet and sending him skidding on his back through the snow. There was no time to rest, though, and he rolled away moments before the wolf pounced again.
Grabbing his crossbow, Muini hopped back up and fired three shots of ice-imbued energy. The bolts just bounced off the Rahi’s thick armor. It darted forward to swipe at Muini with its razor claws, but an icy blast to its face made it recoil. Muini kept the assault up, firing bolt after bolt of icy energy at the wolf’s head and shoulders, each shot forcing the Rahi back more and more. A thick coating of ice was starting to build up across its muzzle. Finally, the onslaught was too much for the Rahi, and it spun around and took off into the darkness.
Muini frowned. It wasn’t likely that he had defeated the beast. It was probably going to prepare another ambush. It would be back, and there was a good chance that it wouldn’t be alone. Mountain Wolves were typically solitary hunters, unlike the smaller Ice Wolves, but they were known to work together on occasion to bring down tougher prey.
After a few moments, the Toa turned around and continued his trek. He kept his shield and bow ready, though, and his ears were pricked for any signs of Rahi that might be heard over the wind. His head was kept on a swivel, and every few seconds he whirled around, hoping to deter an ambush.
A flash of blue to his left drew his gaze. He fired a shot into the snowy void, but there was nothing there. Muini’s eyes narrowed. He raised his crossbow again, but a sudden collision from behind flung him forward and sent him careening through the air. His bow and shield went flying in opposite directions. The Toa slammed into the snowdrift a good five yards away, rolling head over heels to land on his back. His vision swam with stars (though they might have just been snowflakes). His spine felt like it had just been crushed beneath an avalanche. His mask had been knocked askew by the impact, but luckily it was still attached - otherwise, he might not have been alive to worry about it.
A shadow loomed over him, and he blinked to clear his sight. The snout of the Mountain Wolf crept into the edge of his vision, shards of ice still clinging to it. The Rahi looked down, locking its blue eyes with Muini. Its lips curled into a snarl, and it reared upwards to strike. As it reached its full height, Muini caught a glimpse of a strange bulging shape on its chest. He didn’t have a second to process the sight, though, as the wolf’s jagged maw came bearing down on him.
Gritting his teeth, Muini jabbed his fist into the wolf’s throat. As his fist struck its armor, a needle-sharp blade of ice shot out from his knuckles, stabbing straight through its windpipe and out through its spine. Mere inches from Muini’s own throat, the Rahi recoiled, letting out a wet howl of pain. It staggered back, its body spasming with wet coughs. With one last, pitiful whimper, it collapsed to the snow.
Muini lay on the ground, panting. He had hoped to just drive the beast away, but it was clearly set on a battle to the death. Pushing himself to his feet, the Toa felt his mechanical spine pop back into place. He limped over to where the still body of the wolf lay. Now that he got a good look at it, he noticed it was half-emaciated. Its mechanical innards were jutting out from its skin, making its armor stick out at odd angles, and patches of its fur were missing. Muini felt a twinge of pity for the fallen beast.
No amount of pity would stay what Muini was about to do, though. He was dangerously low on energy, and this Rahi was the closest thing approximating “food” that he had come across on his journey. With a sigh, the Toa knelt down and formed a short blade of ice in his right hand. He turned the wolf over to expose its stomach… and noticed again the bulge on its chest. It was a mask that had been strapped to the wolf - not just any mask, Muini realized with a jolt of fear, but a Noble Akaku.
A Noble Akaku covered in dried blood and scratches.
A Noble Akaku belonging to Turaga Nilak.
Muini’s fists clenched until the ice knife cracked and shattered.
Dead. Nilak was dead.
All this time, Muini had held onto the slightest hope that Nilak might be alive, and that he might find the Turaga once the storm had calmed. It was all that kept him from succumbing to the cold. But now… there was nothing he could do. Everything, everything he had done since he met with the Turaga in his home, had been for naught.
Muini’s fist came down hard against the armor on the wolf’s flank.
Idiot, he thought, digging his fingers into the metal plate and tearing it off, not even bothering to use his mask. Fool. Disgrace to Nilak’s legacy. He formed another blade of sharpened ice and dug into the wolf’s skin, carving off a sizable chunk. A foul smell wafted out from the wound, which revealed a tangle of pistons, wires, and veins. Even now, you’re still clay in the Makuta’s hands. Taking the slab of meat in his own hands, he began to absorb its raw, disgusting energy. How can you be expected to lead Nuvaniq if you let yourself be led astray so easily?
Muini scowled. He cast aside the husk of desiccated meat and went to carve another piece. You can’t show your face there again. Best to stay in the wastes, where you’ll never have to look your Matoran captain in the eye and tell him you failed.
Muini stopped dead in the middle of absorbing the meat’s energy.
Holoh. Her name is Holoh. Get out of my head, Makuta.
An all-too-familiar laugh whispered through the deepest recesses of Muini’s mind. He whirled around, trying to see any sign of the Makuta’s presence, but there was nothing. Just mountains and snow.
Almost abruptly, the winds died down and the snowfall slowed. Muini stood up, still frowning. Pale light broke through the clouds above as they began to thin. Only now could the Toa make out the shape of Mount Unukkut in the middle distance. Almost instantly, he realized where he was.
“I’m done with your games, Makuta,” Muini said aloud. “You can’t hide forever. I am going to finish what I started.”
The Toa’s glance shifted from side to side. He half-expected the pale, hulking form of the Makuta to lunge out at him from nowhere, but it was eerily calm. Even the air was completely still.
“If you can hear me,” the Toa continued, “let’s just get it over with now. No sense drawing it out, right? It would be a waste of time and resources, and I know how much you hate waste.”
Another laugh rumbled through his head. I’ve wasted nothing. Better hurry home, Toa, while it still stands.
Muini’s eyes went wide. He opened his mouth to retort, but thought better of it. He had better things to do than argue with a voice inside his head. Stopping only to grab his shield and bow, he raced off towards Nuvaniq. As he ran through the snowdrifts, though, a deep dread settled in his gut. Exactly what would he find when he got there?