In the Name of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, I dedicate this work, "The Makutan Throne", to His eternal glory. Amen.
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The Desert
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The day was hot.
A swift zephyr moved through the desert, cascading over numerous sand dunes like the waves of a nonexistent ocean, lifting up fine particles of sand and sending them through the air, giving an illusion of movement to the otherwise motionless landscape. The only things not moving were the many hundreds of tall, dark pillars of rock standing isolated from one another in the wastes, their long shadows growing ever longer as the final sun set behind far away mountains. Most of these rock pillars had lain under the sand for many years, as the suns rise and fall, but with the constant erosion of the land they were gradually exposed until they stood today; and in time this region became known as the Pillars of Obsidian. Apart from them there were few other distinguishing features of the desert—save one.
A lone bipedal beast of prey moved sedately through the desert to the mountains, which loomed high in the sky. It stood at least twenty hands high, and resembled a prehistoric reptilian monster—a thickly built body like a barrel; a long, muscular tail like a tree's trunk; powerful legs able to cover many yards in a stride; coated with red-colored armor; and, most importantly, a large pair of jaws capable of crushing rocks with ease.
"Rock-steeds", as they were called for both that ability and incredible stubbornness, were ferocious creatures in the wild, living alone unless with a mate and young, and usually held wide territories. Whenever two males met it nearly always commenced into a battle unless one was wounded from an earlier fight, and had not healed, and would retreat from the other at the first display of hostility.
It was possible to tame one if you were willing to sacrifice both of your hands and/or arms, and if the beast were incapacitated enough to lead home, and if one had tied the massive jaws so that it couldn't snap at you. But when tame they became docile and even allowed children to ride upon their backs—in fact they were very sensitive towards children, and took every possible amount of care to not hurt them.
The robed person riding upon its saddled back, however, had proven more than capable of taming them for he still had both hands and arms intact. Wearing long desert robes, he was five foot high, short in body but long in leg, and it showed when he stood; but now he sat upon a high saddle crafted from bone. His lean body contrasted with thickly built arms but he was by no means a weakling—one had to be strong to survive in the desert, especially if you were a courier and always moving from homeland to outer fort and back. Various gear rested behind him, tied down with thick, strong ropes of a plant-like material, pliable but very tough.
Arconox lifted up his hand to his eyes, shielding them from the suns' blinding glare. He hated this time of day when the suns set and he happened to be riding west. And in this region. Ordinarily, the Pillars' shadows would have been ideal for this time of day, and he'd only be inconvenienced when moving to another. Unfortunately this particular part of the desert was a treacherous place if you stepped off the path—very treacherous. Entire caravans had been known to disappear instantaneously in this place, and it wasn't the slow quick-sand... strange things lived out here, some of them shapeless.
But Ghak, his faithful steed, had an instinctive feel for the terrain and knew the dangers, and would have stubbornly kept to safety if his master did not.
He had ridden nearly more than thirty "miles"—a unit of length consisting of about eighty furlongs to his people—from the last outpost to this area since the morning began, when the skies were cool and had shown the faintest wisp of clouds; now, as the night drew near, the intense heat of the day was starting to dissipate. Once he entered the mountains Arconox would have only a few more to go until he reached home.
By now he was thinking of what to do when he'd dropped off his dispatches (which ranged from official correspondence to soldiers' letters) and gotten to his own home. Perhaps drop in on Taranox and learn what's going on since I left... he mused, his mind drifting along with the wind. Time always slowed down to a crawl out here and he tended to think like a rock, concentrating only on the task at hand, and never mind what was going on at home, when alone. It wasn't healthy. Taranox, however, had the freedom to stay with the times.
Or even finish my model... Arconox had begun to work on a small ship, one of the skiffs which sailed on the swift rapids north of Taresian, his home, before being called away on this mission. It was a tiny thing, manned only by one person, and was for extreme "sporting" only. He didn't go in for such things, personally, preferring a quieter life—he was content with carving, and to watch from a safe distance.
Where should the rigging g—what the?
Arconox blinked, his mind suddenly coming into the "here and now". Ghak had halted, and was sniffing the air intently.
"What is the matter, boy?" he asked, his voice sounding strange in his ears after the long hours of silence. He leaned forward and patted the tyrannosaurid on the neck. He could feel its bony ridges protruding against his hand. "Feel something?" Ordinary rock-steeds had remarkable senses, far more advanced than ordinary people; and if Ghak, his long-time companion, felt danger, Arconox had better be prepared, or else.
Ghak snorted explosively and shook his head, then started to back up.
"Whoa, Ghak, whoa, settle down," Arconox exclaimed. "Settle down!" he ordered, jerking the reins one way then another. Ghak refused, ignoring his rider and kept backing up.
Arconox never known his steed to behave this violently before, not even when sensing danger. He redoubled his efforts. At last Ghak obeyed his master and did settle down—but he still trembled, the vibrations going throughout Arconox's body.
His rider got the idea and clicked at him to make haste. Instantly the beast leapt forward with a huge bound and began sprinting across the sand, covering long ordinary strides in a matter of seconds. Arconox looked around as he bounced along—adjusting his seat to avoid hurting his rear as he did so—scanning the yellow sea for signs of danger.
Nothing met his eyes. No band of raiders showed up behind him, no massive scorpions lifted themselves out of the sand, and no dragonoids appeared in the sky, fire coming out their mouth and about to scorch him. His hand went back to the ebony hilt of his long-sword just in case.
Two handed, light, and easy to use on beast-back despite its length, many times it had saved his life. A shorter sword might be better, as some veterans had suggested to him countless times before, but this had proven its worth. In fact, many brigands had made the mistake of underestimating his skill with the blade, and that was all the more reason to keep it. Combined with Ghak's teeth and claws they made a formidable pair.
Still, when his rock-steed was this frightened, it was better to be safe than entertain doubts. His mind went back to those disappearing caravans, and a chill went through him. Only three more... he thought grimly, eyes darting from side to side. Once he got into the mountains he was safe.
Suddenly the ground shifted and heaved underneath them—Ghak gave out a scream as the beast lost his footing and was tossed into the air; Arconox was flung off his saddle in the same instant—and something enormous rose out of the sand.
Arconox landed face-down at the base of a Pillar, arms and legs akimbo, the wind forced out of him by the impact. He heard a whining sound, then another thump as Ghak also landed—too far away to be of any help.
Spitting sand he slowly pushed himself up, his hood flung off and exposing his helmeted head to the light of the suns. Oh, my head... he groaned, rubbing it. Even with protection it hurt like demonfire.
As the whirling, cascading sand cleared away behind him from whatever had thrown them both, Arconox slowly got onto his knees, using a hand to test the ground around him. Generally the area around the Pillars were safe but not with a sudden decompression in the sand like what was happening now. He shook his head, clearing away stars and dizziness, reached for his sword again, and looked back—and his mouth dropped open in astonishment.
A gigantic, chunky, white boulder of a body filled his field of vision, gleaming in the last of the sunlight. Smooth spikes covered its wide shoulders, long and straight, and ran all across its back; great arms, not of flesh, bulked at its sides; a pair of short, though thick, legs supported the massive frame of one of the desert's most feared creatures, the Stone Trolls.
A chill racked his spine again. Oh dear...
Stone Trolls were ancient beings, their origins unknown. No one knew who or what they were—a few suspected they were originally part of the armies of the ancient Element Lords ages long gone—but what was known is that they were unpredictable, and very dangerous if engaged in battle. It didn't matter that they were slow, clumsy, and generally dim-witted—one sweep of an arm, and if you happened to get in its way, you were dead, armor or no. Fortunately this Troll had risen in the wrong direction and was stupidly sweeping away the sand opposite of where Arconox and Ghak landed, looking for him no doubt.
But not for long. he remembered.
He stood still, watching it warily. Whatever had caused this thing to rise up out of the ground to attack him would not easily turn away, even if in the wrong direction, and he had to be careful not to startle it unduly. Then, ever so slightly, he began to move around to the opposite side of the Pillar.
His first, and biggest, mistake.
With a roar the gigantesque creature whirled around with astonishing speed, ice-blue eyes glowing brightly, its arms bulking at its sides, and lifted one of them. Arconox's eyes went wide, and he leapt to one side, turning like a wheel.
Thump!
The quake-like vibrations radiated outward from the clenched fist, cracking the rocky area surrounding the Pillar, but they did not touch the courier.
He landed, his sword drawn and swept out—then jumped again; the Troll's arm barreled towards him, the sand building up before it not hindering in any way.
But that was his second mistake.
"Ghaaa—!" he yelled, his right hand accidentally making fast to a protrusion in the giant's fist. Unable to let go, and feeling as if his arm must be torn out, Arconox swung helplessly upwards with the Troll's arm. "Yaaa—!"
The thing's beady eyes widened slightly in confusion as it stopped. Its head, disproportionately tiny compared to the rest of its body, turned from side to side, scanning the yellow-brown dune sea for its prey. It never thought to look up—and neither could it feel something creeping on its back.
All right you big buffoon, Arconox thought somewhat madly as he came to a stop among the spines—fortunately they were too long and thick to be of danger—the battle field is even! He got a firm foothold, grasped his sword with both hands despite his throbbing arm, and prepared to strike. The blade gleamed in the last of the sunlight as it was pulled back. Now the surprise is on you!
That gleam must have alerted the Troll somehow, for it stopped looking and stood confused—then it howled.
Still gleaming brightly—too bright—the long, curved blade plunged into the stony shoulder blades, right at the nape of the neck, and sank to the hilt. Heat radiated from the weapon and into Arconox's hands. His face curled into a smile with the thing's roars, and twisted the sword—and it turned inside the now molten rock, its natural resistance to heat being overcome.
Many strange powers were indigenous to his people, and they were commonly broken down into two categories—the physical and the ephemeral, with considerable overlap between them. Metal and earth were of the physical; fire and wind of the ephemeral; and water and various gasses crossing over. There were many "abilities" connected with the mind, but these were classed in their own area—and countless other sub-divisions relating to the ephemeral and physical.
Arconox was a "cross" between the two primary groups, controlling both fire and earth, and he seldom channeled them except when there was no other way. Like now. Trolls of this kind were of the "Element" earth and had a natural resistance to fire and other related abilities, but not against a being who could use both Elements at once.
He looked up suddenly on instinct—and saw a monstrous arm sweeping towards him. He ducked the first time; the second—"Ghaa—!"
Once again he flew through the air—his head and body, in addition to his arm, feeling like someone had hit him with a sledgehammer three times in quick succession—and landed thunk-thunk-thunk upon the path, close to another Pillar.
Coughing heavily he tried to get back on his feet again, but moved sluggishly. At last he managed to stand, but his legs protested underneath him. Oh, ow, my head, he moaned again, vertigo threatening to send him on his back again. Arconox hit his head several times in an effort to stop the pain, but it did nothing.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
He forced himself to stop feeling dizzy, and shook his head many times. Gripping his sword—which had remained unbroken countless times before and this was no different—he looked up.
The Stone Troll's spines had frighteningly grown to impressive proportions in a matter of moments; they even ranged down its arms, ending in spiked gloves. The thing's eyes seemed to burn—the exact same color of flame of Arconox's now cooling sword—with unspeakable rage as it slowly stalked towards him.
Thump. Thump.
Arconox gave himself one last shake and held his ground as the Troll halted. The wind suddenly picked up, blowing his cloak (amazingly it had stayed in one piece) against his body; and it was cold. Twilight covered the skies, a purplish-maroon sort of color fast changing to midnight blue. Night was descending.
The Troll lifted its arm to strike—and Arconox struck first.
He pulled back his unhurt arm and threw his weapon. The blade turned end-over-end as it sped for the Troll's suddenly motionless form, glowing like a newborn star—the color of gold.
The massive creature tried to check its swing to stop the spinning missile; but it was too late.
"Gharoaaar!" it screamed, flailing its arms as the blade buried itself into the tiny face. Arconox faintly smiled, his strength starting to ebb away in spite of the adrenaline, and sank down.
The Troll attempted to pull it out like a splinter—and stumbled to the side before it could do so.
Wha—how?
Arconox watched in disbelief as the creature toppled to the ground, falling against the same Pillar which he had landed at in the beginning. With a great crack, like the sound of thunder, the monstrous stone behemoth split in two on impact, and hundreds of tiny pieces and fragments fell to the ground. A great cloud of stone-dust billowed up and mixed with the sand now flying everywhere with the wind. Arconox covered his eyes, and bowed his head to ward off the oncoming wind.
Then, just as quickly as it begun, the wind's force stopped. Confused, Arconox's eyes opened again, and he looked around.
In answer a long, red, sticky tongue wrapped itself around his face.
"Get off—get off—!" he spluttered, throwing up an arm to stop his friendly assailant. When the onslaught stopped, the concerned draconian features of Ghak were highly visible. Arconox blinked many times, not able to connect his rock-steed with the past events—how was he here, and not... over there? "How—?" he asked rhetorically, looking through the beast's legs and to the pile of dust and sand. At once he understood.
"Good boy, Ghak, good boy," he said, reaching up to pat the rock-steed. "Nice thinking." In answer Ghak's great tail swept from side to side, and the creature looked pleased with himself. A gleam of metal caught Arconox's eye—looking down, he saw his long-sword lying at his feet. Good boy, he automatically thought, reaching down and picking it up.
As Arconox climbed up to his feet, sword stowed away and using Ghak as a support, he reflected on rock-steeds' famed ability to crush rock. It was speculated they found some kind of nourishment within the rocks, for why else did they habitually "eat" rock? Even newborns liked it. But Ghak had gone beyond both the call of duty and nature. Using his great jaws he'd somehow brought the giant down—perhaps he'd bitten off one of the legs—with minimal damage to himself, and had done it in such a way as to bring the giant against one of the Pillars; and also saved his master's life too. Intelligence like no other.
The beast prodded him with his great, triangular head.
"Good boy, Ghak," he said again, patting the beast again. In answer Ghak gave a low rumble of pleasure, and his eyes half rolled backwards into his sockets; his tail continued to "wag" excitedly. Laughing Arconox grabbed the saddle and hoisted himself back on.
Clicking he wheeled Ghak around, and they continued on their way. Inspection upon himself showed nothing vital had been damaged; even the messages in their satchel were unscathed. The rock-steed picked his way over the rubble and soon the remnants of the Stone Troll were far behind them.
As the mountains' great shadows enclosed them Arconox now knew what to do when he got home. Give Ghak a good grooming and the finest meal a rock-steed ever had. With plenty of rocks included.
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This is a BIONICLE AU fic, and while I am not at all opposed to the new canon, I'll mostly be using the old canon and my own head-canon. If you liked it, please drop a review and tell me what you thought; if you want to read more, a follow or even a favorite is very much welcome. Do not be afraid to tell me what you liked/disliked/loved/hated about this story—ramble like a lunatic if you want, but please let me know on what you thought of this story.
For those curious about the name, and whether or not it is related to the Armageddon Chronicles: The Cerinian Earth, it is part of a larger universe in which most of my works (The Cerinian Earth being an example) are based in. This universe is irrespective of fandom, for it started out originally as an original universe—I've merely modified it to fit FanFiction. For relation to timeline, this story takes place many millions of years Before Christ, and has no bearing on the other story, save for certain details.
Cheerio, and enjoy! :)