Author's note: This is a oldold story, but I've always been partial to it. I decided to upload it for that reason. (note, I apologize for any mistakes, etc-I'm actually in the process of editing it up a bit)
Summary: Zaktan is assigned to guard a captured Toa named Kyra, a young Ga-Toa who seems to bear little prejudice against him, more so curiosity. During this time, Zaktan painfully realizes what he really is.
Setting: At the Dark Hunter's base, on the island of Odina. This happens before Zaktan and the other piraka betray TSO and leave to find the mask of life.
Never Forgive, Never Forget
Shouts and cries around the fortress of the Dark Hunters echoed loudly, the clamor of metal hitting against the old stone floors, the dusty streets, and the drawing of many various and terrible weapons. None of the cries sounded happy or exciting. They were coarse and rugged, cursing and angry as quite a few Hunters rushed out of the fortress in the open land. The massive sun began to set; the sky turning into a dreaded yet magnificent red, golden, blue and so many other colors that blended together, one might enjoy this place if the sunset here had not taken place on Odina. The light reflected brightly on everyone's shining metal and mixed organic backs; they ran, their large or small feet grinding into the parched, dusty and dead ground.
Through the large, blinding sun as it became redder, you could see a figure standing hunched down, looking out toward the cliffs, and cursing in a rustic, wicked voice. Toa always have to cause trouble, no matter the situation they are faced with, big or small, they always had to cause something to explode, die, escape with precious information, and much worse. And such was never a better example than now.
The female water Toa ran for her life, breathing heavily and bringing out her legs at large paces. Her arms swayed, flowing forward, then back again, to gain extra speed. Weaponless and bruised, she had little hope of escaping. But she would rather try than to be faced with an embarrassing death in front of the horrible and dreaded Dark Hunters. She hated every aspect to them, they were immoral and complete savages, how she just wanted to walk up to The Shadowed One and spit in his dark grimy face. But that would be sheer stupidity, than bravery, although any Toa faced in this situation would think the same. Right now, she fretted more on how to escape, rather than focus on her hatred of the Hunters.
She continued to run faster than she believed she could, till finally she made a halting stop at the edge of the cliff, her blue feet grinding into the dirty, red clay-like ground.
The young Toa was preparing to make the almost unfeasible jump, when a vicious and perverse voice came from behind her.
"No where to go Toa… unless you would prefer to be caught by Cliff Screechers that house on those cliffs. It would be a rather unpleasant way to die."
The Toa froze and bent around seeing the large, hulking green mass stare at her enigmatically with an ominous and brooding grin. She bit her lower lip and took another step back, looking as if she wasn't going to answer. By now, one would guess this would be no other than the feared and almost alien Skakdi, Zaktan. He made a twisted smile and also took a step forward.
"Toa cause so much trouble," He continued, "The Shadowed One offers you employment, and yet you refuse. If you think this is what nobility is you are quite wrong, I call it stupidity." The green Piraka's emerald body soon gave away to nauseating ripples, and in a blur, he formed into a green buzz of horrid protodites and charged toward the female.
She jumped out of the way, only to be pushed away from the cliff by Zaktan as they passed. She fell on the ground and slid a few feet, tumbling until her back hit a rock. She winced from the pain and stared up to see the shining sun, and the sky beginning to show in with the stars. Though this few second bliss was shattered as the Skakdi came almost from thin air, his large golden armor reflecting against the sun, blocking the view of the sky. He came charging down, and the water Toa quickly rolled, missing being stabbed by a mere few seconds. He hit the ground, almost vibrating the area, the dry from underneath his large feet cracked and broke apart, as dust flew and pebbles toppled around.
"You're wasting my time, Toa," snapped Zaktan, his eyes narrowing as he watched the Toa drag herself up, and with a cry she hurled a blast of water towards him. Though no matter what, she was weaker and unprepared. And Zaktan knew this. He easily evaded the attack, and charged again. But this time he was hit with the second blast. His protodites panicked the second the water collided with him and his body disintegrated, like dust in a windstorm.
He forced his body to come back, though this hurt beyond explanation, physically and mentally. By the time he had come to his senses, he looked up to see a large hand holding onto the Toa from the neck. This hand was revealed to be Ancient's.
The Toa fought against the arm, furiously kicking and fighting him. At last, she froze and became limp dangling silently in his hand.
"She dead?" Another voice was heard, which was discovered to be Lariska, looking rather bored.
Ancient shrugged, now throwing the body across his shoulder and looked down at the female huntress with a calm appearance, "No, blacked out. The Shadowed One would prefer this. Go get the other Hunters back in, we've captured her."
"Again," Lariska added wryly. And with a deep sigh, she walked tolerantly off to the stronghold.
Ancient was also about to depart, then paused and looked back at Zaktan serenely.
"You need to come also, Zaktan."
Small lightstones covered the wall, flickering quietly and casting gloomy and moving shadows against the chamber. Such a fearful place for anyone to be, even many of the Dark Hunters would be in chills because of this place, the atmosphere, the feeling…that lonely, cold feeling of death. And how, The Shadowed One, the greatest and feared leader of any organization, took pleasure in this.
Up ahead stood a few Dark Hunters, all various shapes and colors consulting so quietly they sounded like echoes from dying wind; little servants scurried around quickly and quietly.
Lariska stood there beside the throne, slightly resting one shoulder on it and with her arms crossed, a faded smirk was shown. And on the throne it was a dark shadowy figure with red eyes—so red they would make blood look like pink.
The Shadowed One sat thoughtfully on his throne, rubbing his chin and giving away a small entertained term as he looked at the Toa sitting on the ground now conscious but looking like she was trying to ignore everything. The Shadowed One seemed not impatient, but Lariska's eyes danced around, darting to one place to another and always back to the Toa and Zaktan.
"So," Began the Shadowed One slowly, "we recaptured her, that's a start…" His red eyes darted over to Zaktan, who was keeping his own eyes on the floor, avoiding the leader's stare.
"You need to have more control of yourself, Piraka," He said; "She could have escaped."
Zaktan didn't respond, and continued to look away from the Leader.
The Shadowed One cracked a grin, slightly shifted in his seat, seemingly enjoying poking some fun at him. How one would remember the hatred that grew between the two with beautiful delight and uttermost fear.
"Nevertheless, she is caught. I would kill her now, but I feel to give her a few more weeks in a secluded dungeon to think over my offer."
"I've told you once, and I'll say it again; no! I'd rather die than join you." The Toa snarled and stared hatefully at him.
"Many have said that my dear Kyra," the Shadowed One replied, "and yet I know many a great allies that I have that use to be as stubborn as you. In time we will see how strong your perseverance will last." He finished and steadily looked at her carefully, and then slowly he brought himself up from his place and put his hands together behind his back, turning to Ancient.
"Take her down to the lower dungeon," He stated, and then pointed over to Zaktan, "and I will be assigning you to guard her until matters are settled."
Zaktan's eyes widened with rage and shock, his protodites hummed and rippled from within him.
"I do…what?" His voice was full of pride and uncomfortable anger, as his multiple voices echoed across the room emotively, "send Avak to do that, he's a jailer―Not I!"
"I'm not very interested in having a weak dispute and to hear your excuses, go with Ancient and stay on duty until told otherwise. Understood?"
There was no response.
"Zaktan, do you hear me?"
"I hear you." Zaktan whirled around toward the large doors, but The Shadow One's cool voice seemed to follow him as if he was just an inch away, his threatening tone breathing, whispering into his ear.
"Be careful with that attitude. I would dislike to waste further penalty upon you."
The Toa was dragged down to one of the lowest dungeons, where it was with little surprise, dark and damp. Cold, dead, and overall a lonely feeling. The walls seemed to be covered with a soggy slime and sometimes, a faint crimson color; the ambiance felt heavy yet tasted strikingly bitter to Zaktan as he followed Ancient further down. He despised this place almost to the core of his most inner protodite. Zaktan made a good guess that The Shadow One was also doing this to him, just for the displeasure to add upon in Zaktan. And just for the entertainment to add upon himself.
Ancient finally stopped at a larger hallway and threw her in a large, bleak room on the left side and shut the strong yet ancient bar door. She hit the back of the wall with a thud and slid down weakly. But instead of jumping up and trying to fight back like she would usually do, with her stubborn and strong will— Kyra just sat there, staring at the floor.
"Stay here and make sure she doesn't escape, I or some others will check in once and awhile." Ancient said, and he slowly turned around heading back up the fortress. His large feet hitting against the old floor, adding echoes in the nearly forgotten corridors.
Zaktan looked back into the prison where the Toa named Kyra sat there. Though she seemed afraid, she turned and looked at Zaktan with her bright grey eyes, curiously flickering like a small candle.
Zaktan looked away, trying his best to ignore her. This had been the first time he had remembered where he was this close to a Toa, yet he could not kill the piece of scrap. It was so tempting for him to go in there and just end her miserable life, but he could not.
The silence was almost a pleasure for Zaktan though, a good way for him to escape his barracks and to get away from all the foolish arguments roused by the other Skakdi. It just felt like nothing in the empty and bleak area, silent and…
"So…your name is Zaktan?"
Zaktan nearly jumped at the sudden voice, he jerked out of his thoughts and glared at the Toa who had spoken. Though she seemed not afraid or in disgust as she looked into his eyes.
Zaktan grunted as he turned back around, though the grunt turned into an outlandish sound because of his manifold voices. But nevertheless, Kyra continued with floods of questions, questioning what was his destiny to the simplest thing of why he was green.
"Tell me Dark Hunter, why are you here?" She finally questioned.
Zaktan rubbed the side of his chin, clearly showing signs of lack of patience. Finally, he gave in and responded, "If you knew, then you would stay quiet like you should."
"Then answer my question and let me be the judge of that."
"The dead are obedient enough to keep quiet, so why is a dead Toa still talking?"
"I'm not dead yet…"
"You will be because of your stubbornness, soon enough. Now silence."
Zaktan's voice was dark and dead on serious, and the Toa noted this. Her tranquil appearance turned into a small frown and became silent again. But this moment of bliss for Zaktan did not last longer than thirty minutes.
"Then if I am supposed to be dead, then why do they have you watching over me?" She finally asked again, standing up and leaning over to Zaktan.
"Sometimes the dead has a habit of not staying in their graves, now quiet!"
"Like you?"
Zaktan suddenly flinched; he turned back around and walked directly to the Toa's prison, when she noted the large brute in front of her, she took a few steps back.
"What makes you think I am like you, Toa, who's false Spirit has abandoned you?"
"Call it a hunch that you used to believe in my 'false Spirit'..."
Zaktan stopped in his fit of irritation and looked over the Toa quietly, his stiff shoulders finally relaxing down. He heaved a sigh, looking at the ground. "What are you trying to gain from this, Toa?"
Kyra paused, looking unsure of herself. She finally took a step forward, "I'm just trying to guess what's bothering you…and, though I do not like Dark Hunters, I am curious."
Zaktan looked slowly up, raising his brow, "How could you possibly understand what's bothering me?"
"I can't…It's just…looks like you're hurting so badly," Kyra stopped and sat down in the dark cold floor, still looking up at him thoughtfully.
Zaktan's body seemed to ripple, his eyes closed as the ever present hum of his body still went on.
"There are far worse things than what the Shadowed One has already done to you. This is nothing, Toa. Being turned into a simplistic form of a sandstorm and to be watched with disgust and joy by the others is something…"
Zaktan stopped in his rant and quickly looked at Kyra with a quick rage, suddenly feeling imprudent of speaking what was on his mind.
Kyra could only gaze at Zaktan and thought to herself how much punishment this Dark Hunter has endured from his leader, including the irremovable curse that has befallen him. She had always viewed all the Dark Hunters the same; selfish, arrogant, immoral and overall evil. Zaktan had revealed that within him earlier, but she never could picture a Dark Hunter that also shown shame in his eyes. She was going to speak, but Zaktan had backed away from the cell, and now was resting his back against the wall opposite of her, he kept his head down, avoiding the gaze of Kyra's inquisitive grey eyes.
As many of days slowly slipped from Odina's grasp, the captured Toa and the green Dark Hunter spoke…Well, Kyra talked at least. Zaktan kept silent, still being closed with some of the details about himself, this had been one of the first times Zaktan had really anyone to talk to, but by everyday he began to tell her more and more information to the female Toa, almost without notice, such is interesting on how little a trickle of information could lead to a rushing river to flood out of its barriers.
But as this had been happening, unknown to both the talking parties, the Shadowed One had been listening to their conversations; concerned on how he had been getting along with the prisoner he then began to think about where Zaktan's allegiances would truly lay.
"What's your favorite color?"
Zaktan, who had been sitting on the cold grimy stone floor had stayed silent through most of Kyra's gawping about how her life had been, and random comments that shifted from how dreadful Odina was, to why she disliked bullaberries. But she finally had asked a questioned directed to Zaktan, and he turned his head toward her with an emotionless expression.
"Color?"
"I think my favorite is purple," Kyra pointed out promptly, now standing up in her cell, and began to pace as if this was a serious decision. "It's a very unique color, in fact, I really might prefer to be purple than blue. There are way too many female Toa that are blue…I am sure there are none that are purple!"
The green dark hunter could only stare at her for the longest time, in complete confusion, really wondering if all water Toa were like this. Zaktan didn't respond to what she had said and turned around, concealing an entertained grin from crossing his large teeth. He defiantly would not let her know, that he secretly enjoyed the company of the Toa for the past weeks. And possibly, is this what it felt like to have a…Ally…companion…friend? Zaktan knew many things, but he felt ignorant in the fashion of how a friendship was dealt with, or the whole outlook of Kyra's view.
Kyra, couldn't agree more with this, but was on quite the opposite side. She couldn't decide, if it was even possible to make a friend who she had promised herself that she would never even speak to, and how one like himself could do so many horrible deeds, and not only feel no guilt, but even enjoy it. But of course it was her fault, she kept telling herself never to speak to creatures like this, but her talkative nature had taken over.
This matter, came into her mind the few minutes after she had ranted on about a quite immature subject, she walked over to her cell, and leaned against the bars, looking toward the brooding Dark Hunter.
"I have another question," Kyra started, "why do you do, what you do?"
Zaktan raised his head yet again toward her and frowned, "I could ask you the same thing."
"Yes but, it's just so…wrong and evil…"
The Skakdi stood up, still staring at her with his warning red eyes, "What makes the world decide, what is wrong? When one is forced to do what you call is wrong, by the tyrants who are able to run this universe, or the burden of Destiny?" He frowned and looked at the Toa disgusted, "This is why I hate your kind, you are naive of what really goes on in the mind of evil, and you refuse to understand it. Your so called 'good kind' always thinks we have a choice and sometimes we don't, we're trapped."
Kyra returned a frown, "You may be trapped, but there are always chances to slip out of it, even if it may risk your life?"
"You have no idea…"
"Just look at you!" She yelled, "A brooding, dark green mass that has hatred constantly in his eyes…I bet the reason you went to those Protodermis Mines was cause' you were just a lying, murderous piraka. And you deserved it too I bet!"
Something in Zaktan's eyes seem to slither with a deadly gesture, like a snake losing its patience on a hunt. It though, when Kyra saw them was to hard to describe, so alien and different that she began to fear what she could not yet discover, and the fear turned to dread to what happened next.
He walked straight through the bars that kept Kyra in, she watched with horror, as his protodites would slither, and multiply, tear, dance like a flying buzz of fire flies. His body ripped; the scene was nauseating watching ones body break apart, and worse as Zaktan expected this, his strange eyes still boring down at the Toa.
Kyra staggered back as the Skakdi formed together again and his arm shot out toward her neck. But it did not reach it. A sudden look of frustration and hesitance crossed his face, and instead a sharp index finger pointed toward her face threateningly.
"Don't ever, ever say that again," He replied in a hoarse voice, his multiple voices rose almost mixed in with heartrending screech. He stood there for the longest time unmoving, just keeping his arm outstretched shaking on deciding to kill her for once and for all. But his hand and body refused to move forward as he saw the fear in Kyra's eyes, the same type of fear he saw in almost everyone's eyes that was met with similar fates.
The hand finally wavered down, forming the shape of a fist, and he looked straight down at the ground and quickly turned away back toward the door with a sense of pride being taken away from his grasp yet again.
"I…didn't mean it…" Kyra finally spoke quietly, "I have to open my big mouth sometimes…and it's hard not to do…"
Silence was the response that Kyra heard, though a voice that at first she thought could never be Zaktan's, barely managed to whisper, "Then don't talk, please."
For the next days they rarely talked; and in fact Ancient had earlier come down and stated that Zaktan was free from guard duty from now on; and he understood why.
Kyra was weakening, starving, and slowly to the point of dying. One could only last for a few weeks without food, and Kyra had kept the last reserves of her water element to keep her alive. Now she sat, leaning against the dirty wall shaking from the cold and pain, her beautiful blue armor seemed to fade away like her energy. But always, the striking grey eyes always seemed to stay, but now hazy and lost in thought.
With no other jobs, or missions to be sent on; Zaktan could not help but see to her every day in secret. This time, it felt as if Zaktan began talking more. Making sure she was not losing her senses. He forcefully tried to keep her talking. And he was struggling with his own emotions; why should he care? Or was this just a rare opportune moment to see the other side of him?
"Kyra?"
She blinked as she seemed to be slowly slipping back into a sleep, a sleep which Zaktan admitted to himself that he was troubled about. She slowly brought her head up and smiled, "Yeah?"
Zaktan paused, suddenly unsure how to actually start a conversation, "How did you…get captured?"
She looked away for a moment, thinking it over, and looked back at him with a shrug, "I…it was all so fuzzy. I was with my brother Jalus; we were assigned to explore some island south of ours. It was abandoned and everything was going well…but that was when we were ambushed by some Dark Hunters. I fought my very best but there were just too many…I didn't want to run, but my courage just disappeared when…." Something in her eyes seemed to shimmer like stars, and Zaktan noticed tears slipping down her dirty mask. "…When Jalus was killed; I don't think I have ever seen something more frightening to watch than one of my closest friends die…I watched them shoot him down, get stabbed, torn apart…" She started to rub her eyes, breathing in jerky motions, "Why did they have to do that? Why? We never did anything to them, we never meant to do anything, we just want to protect our people, and I just wanted to help…"
Zaktan could only stand there outside the cell, watching her silently weep. He didn't know how to react.
"That happens," Zaktan finally said, "the world isn't pretty in the least bit. You're living in a dream if you think everyone is kind and friendly. No…even the trusted ones have secrets and lies built in them. Warlords and liars…" He paused and looked down, addressing silently to himself in more of a question, "and Piraka…"
"But why…"
"I cannot answer that;" He said, "maybe if you were in my situation you would see the problem clearer."
"Maybe if you were in mine…" She stopped, and a sudden look of madness overtook her innocent place, her eyes widened as she looked over Zaktan, she propped herself in a better position, slowly dragging herself closer to the cell door.
"We can escape this!" She said frantically, "You can get us out; you can leave this place, forever! I could help you get out of this sin; it isn't too late…please…"
The skakdi was taken aback, escape? Leave the dark hunters? Risk a life to be hunted forever, or maybe, bliss? He looked at her to see if she was joking, but all he saw was the tear stricken Toa, shaking and desperately waiting for a response.
"I couldn't. My looks…"
"You're not ugly! And my island would welcome you if you were willing; it's what is on the inside—"
"Then I wouldn't make it either." Zaktan interrupted harshly, "Because inside and outside, I'm revolting."
Something in her eyes seemed to fade; the last bit of hope seemed to die away.
"You could always join…"
"I wont," She responded bitterly, "I will die for this choice, but I will die for my innocence."
Zaktan came down again the next day to see her, but he stood there, looking ahead where Ancient stood unmoving, looking over the cell where Kyra. The trusted aide of the Shadowed One slowly turned and scanned over to the Skakdi.
"Why are you here, Zaktan?"
Zaktan grimaced, "I could ask the same thing."
Ancient nodded, slowly walking toward him. "Looking for Kyra? Lariska took her up in the courtyard; she said something about her time was up…"
A whooshing noise was heard and Ancient looked around and caught the flicker of a green rush of sand disappear back up the corridor.
This has got to end! Zaktan told himself with anger, I should have never put myself in this situation, I was just to guard her and nothing more, why me?
He formed back up to his original form and stalked toward the open courtyard, as he pushed aside the large doors, the light from the sun blinding him for a moment. Being inside the dark rooms for too long made him forget how bright one place could be. But when his view cleared, he stood motionless staring what lay ahead of him.
Loud voices of dark laughter and curses took over the noise of the area; Zaktan rushed over, pushing aside the crowd to find, in the center of the attraction lay Kyra, motionless, bruised and bleeding. Lariska stood besides her smiling wickedly, and then looked around the crowd; an even more deadly smirk overtook her emotions as she saw Zaktan staring flaccidly at the Toa.
"There you are!" She said loudly, coming over and placing her cold hands against his back, "I was looking for you."
"What are you doing?" Zaktan snarled.
"Her punishment of course, you think we'd just let her get away with just starving and rotting away in some dungeon? There is no fun in that." She pushed Zaktan in the center and pointed at Kyra, "the Shadowed One requested since you were in charge of her you can finish the job."
"Finish?"
"What's wrong, protodermis slave?" She questioned, "Is your head somewhere else? Kill her!"
Zaktan looked around madlu, his scheming eyes searched for a way to escape this sudden twinge. Lariska just stood there patiently and the howls of all the Dark Hunters calling out to kill her in some terrible method. Lariska yet again pushed Zaktan toward the weakened body again and he stared down, looking at Kyra emotionlessly.
Kyra looked up slowly, her mask was cracking and blood seeped through every possible place, but a smile came onto her face. Was she hoping that he would change his mind? Save her from this dread?
Zaktan grabbed her by the neck, forcing every muscle in his body to obey him. Kyra was too weak to do anything; she just limply looked at him with unexpected trust. But Zaktan couldn't stall, as the rest of the hunter's eyes bored down at him, waiting. He brought out his tri-blade, the golden weapon shimmering in the light.
There was a noise of metal grinding into metal, then the grotesque sound of the blade striking through a weak texture, breaking out with the sound of thick water. Kyra gasped as she was still being held up by the hand, the large sword embedded into her body, going straight through her armor, tearing into her organic tissue and ripping out the other side. She just stood there, mouth open and shaking.
Zaktan leaned in slowly, still watching her carefully and suddenly, and only for a second a look of regret came over him.
"I'm sorry." He whispered.
The shouts and laughs were filling the air from the amused Hunters, but Zaktan heard nothing. He just stood there frozen like a statue, staring at Kyra's fading eyes.
The realization of what he did suddenly surpassed him; he staggered back as he pulled his weapon away as she fell on the ground with an empty echo. By now most of all the Dark Hunters had left from the excitement back to their daily jobs and Lariska stood there behind him looking over the green mass. She walked over looking at the figure, almost now unnoticeable as any Toa.
"Not bad, I was hoping a head would come off or something," She said thoughtfully, "But I guess that works out." She turned around and started back toward one of the doors, but paused, looking back at Zaktan, "Also, don't let the floor get even more stained as it is, go throw her off the cliff."
And Zaktan was left alone. He looked down at the body and back at his sword with a horror of himself. He put the weapon away and slowly walked over, picking the distraught figure up and clutched it tightly. He slowly walked out of the fortress with a detached face. He looked up at the sky, suddenly wishing it would rain, but all he saw was a clear sky covered in the sheer brightness of the sun, heating the dry earth. In a story it would start raining, with depressing grey clouds, or by some miracle she would suddenly come back and it would end happily.
But this is reality.
He went to the edge of the cliff and stared down. He looked at Kyra, her body getting his own chest dirty and covered with blood. But what he least expected happened; her heart light had not yet gone out and yet again he was met with her shimmering grey eyes. The grey eyes that suddenly made him think of a forgotten ghost. A sudden urge in Zaktan wanted him to hide her somewhere, and heal her…help her escape when she could.
But that's only in stories. He knew too well he couldn't do that, and he isn't the hero in this story. No, he's the villain.
"Zaktan…" She whispered, a voice so small and weak, he nearly missed. "It's…its ok…there are…some things we can never change or control…its okay, its okay…"
He looked back down at his arms. They were empty. He had dropped her; he couldn't take it anymore. He jerked around and avoided seeing what happened to her body, he just walked away, looking down at the earth, as the dry air passed him, the sun hit against him and the sound of waves that crashed against the cliffs. He should had never, ever brought himself to this, anyone who spit at him were constantly around him, but for once a unlikely friend came and disappeared just as fast; it seemed so true, that whatever he wanted to grasp, for the better or worse, was always taken from him. He promised himself he would never bring himself so close to another. He was Zaktan, scheming and ruthless, vile and indifferent. He was a Piraka.
He thought things over, and looked toward the fortress, glaring angrily as he remembered how it all started.
And he never, not even for a moment, stopped hating the Shadowed One.