Son of White.
A/N~ Well, can't say I didn't see this coming! XD
But anyways, I got inspired by a Vocaloid song on youtube I found a year or so back. It partakes to the 'Daughter of Evil' storyline, and after I first saw it, I saw an instant connection.
This story was inspired by the vocaloid video, 'Daughter of White'. Look it up! It's a lovely, yet sad, story that ties into the Daughter of Evil story, and what happened behind the scenes of the story. The moment I saw DoW, I was instantly reminded of Matoro's exile in the alternate universe story, The Kingdom, especially with the very first few verses of the lyrics.
Please enjoy! Warning for angst, a cynical Matoro, and a heart broken but still hopeful Nuju. This takes place in The Kingdom universe.
Lyrics belong to 'Daughter of White'. Please note, that a good majority of the lyrics have been fixed up a bit to fit the characters and such. Listen to the original song on Youtube! Link is on my profile!
HUMANIZED!Bionicle.
Enjoy!
X~X~X~X~X~X
"I'm sorry I'm alive."
A habit I keep on saying.
I've always been softly complaining,
About my meaningless existence.
Night had long since fallen, and all who were once busy and bustling in their work were now tucked away and asleep. Or at least anyone who wasn't a guard, a Vahki, or a Bohrak. This seemed to be the only real obstacle for him at this time of the week.
No one, not even he, was allowed out after dark. It was far too dangerous, and they couldn't risk one of their leaders to fall injured, or worse, killed in these times. But he didn't care; he had a job to do now…
Making sure all required necessities were with him, his cloak and hood sealed up tight and concealing himself, the white and grey man mounted his riding Husi. The large bird huffed and craned its neck as its owner took hold of the reins. While it may be a big enough bird to carry two passengers, it was stealthy and quiet, which is exactly what the man needed at the moment.
Holding back into the alleyway, he watched as a trio of Vahki passed by without notice. He waited a few moments before moving his rahi forward to peek around the corner. Deeming it clear, he snapped the reins and rode off towards the north.
Living all alone is so very sad.
I just want someone,
Anyone,
To be my friend.
The trek took around an hour and a half at best, but the further he went, the less modern his surroundings became. Buildings shifted into cliffs and remnants of a long gone village, and just past that was his destination.
A simple lone standing hut just beyond what used to be Po-wahi. He wasn't even five meters from the hut before he stopped and simply waited.
Past experience has taught him to never carelessly approach the hut, no matter how well he and its occupant knew each other. So he simply sat there on his Husi and waited. A long few minutes would pass before a sound was even made.
Namely the sound of a rotating gun barrel.
"…you're not bored of this game yet?" the rider had to ask, a smidge of amusement in his voice.
The owner of the gun, or rather bazooka, didn't change his expression, simply holding his locked aim on the man's head from atop a large boulder. His ever present frown deepened.
"No, and you're apparently still stupid enough to keep coming here." He stated calmly.
The rider could only sigh, a saddened smile concealed by his cloak.
"Yes. I'm a fool who cares for a boy's wellbeing and safety. I'm a fool to still care…" here the rider decided it was far too warm to keep it up, and lowered his hood, revealing short silver-white hair and an aged face hidden under silver-grey markings of a Noble Matatu.
"But still here nonetheless. It's good to see you again, Matoro."
Addressed and being gazed at expectantly, the Cordak wielder lowered his weapon, but his gaze remained locked onto his former Turaga with an assassin's gaze. He stood up from his crouched position and frowned down at the Turaga.
"Too bad the feelings can't be mutual, Turaga Nuju." He said firmly, as if trying to prove a point.
Nuju only smiled sadly at the Toa and sighed.
"Yes, it is a shame…" he said at length.
I met him right near what was once a thriving village.
It began when he saved me,
While I was unconscious on the ground.
A stare off of some sort ensured, neither making a move towards or away from the other. But finally, with the lick of a small breeze, Matoro sighed almost irritably, and leaped off the rock, heading for his adobe. He didn't acknowledge Nuju any further, choosing instead to simply push back the fabric covering the door and vanishing inside.
Nuju was left with his rahi, which had begun pecking at the ground for food. He could only sigh, drop his reins, and dismount the large bird. He finally led the bird up the rest of the way towards the hut, tying the reins to a wooden stake before taking his bag and entering the hut.
It hadn't changed much since the last time he was here. All the curtains were drawn, so even when it was day time, it was as dark and bleak as a graveyard. A single bed off to one side, a small kitchen on the other. Between them was a single table for one, and beside that, a small hollow in the wall acting as a fireplace. And just behind him on the left side of the door, a long table with numerous weapons and trapping equipment and his Claws. All of it was dusty and unmoved. It was apparent the Toa hadn't caught anything for a while now…
Off by the kitchen counter, the mentioned Toa was busy sharpening knives and daggers, seemingly oblivious to Nuju's presence.
It had become routine, but Nuju still hoped at least he would be acknowledged by now, and after all this time.
But he digressed, instead moving further into the hut and placing his bag on the lone table by a closed window. He made a point in opening the window and drawing the curtains back; it was stuffy as hell in the hut, and it was a nice night.
Before long,
He would come again.
But that man and I can never been the same.
He had the courage to defy the white city that loved,
Adored,
His leadership.
While I was frowned upon by the city that despised,
Hated,
Me for my cowardice.
Again, Matoro paid no heed to Nuju's actions, his back still to the Turaga as if he wasn't even there.
Nuju figured now would be a good time to speak.
"I brought you some food." He started. A shrill metal-on-metal scraping was his response.
"As you always do…" it was said in distain, like a child being once again told he had to clean his room.
"You're getting thinner…" was Nuju's response. And he was right; he could practically make out almost every bone in the Toa's body through the more skin-tight parts of his clothing.
"You shouldn't have come here." was his reply.
Nuju had the urge to throw in an irritated remark, but held back. This was not a good time, nor a good place, to get into a squabble. Besides, he was beyond used to the ex-Toa's bitter words and banter. It simply came with being where he was and who he was labeled as…
Nuju took a nostalgic moment to study his former Matoran. So much in him had changed in all these years…
The Toa had long since abandoned his signature white attire, instead opting for an almost all black look. Most of his clothing was a big ragged, no doubt scavenged from anywhere he could get to near the city without being seen. But they were barely enough to shield him from the chilly desert night. His white-blue hair had gotten considerably longer, now wrapped up in a tighter ponytail down his back.
'Matoro, what has happened to you, my child?' he thought mournfully. A part of him automatically answered his own question, but he pushed it into the back of his mind for now.
"Why are you being so kind to me?"
"Do you just feel sorry for me for being so pitiful?"
"Why must you be so kind while I only hate?"
"Matoro…" he started.
"What?"
"Come sit down and eat. You're thinner than you were last I saw you." Nuju said. And he really did look like he dropped a few pounds form last week. It honestly scared him a bit; Matoro had always been thin as a Matoran, no doubt as a Toa as well. But now he had gone beyond simply being skinny, to close to being described as emaciated.
The sheathing of knives against the sharpener abruptly stopped, the Toa turning his head to look at his former Turaga with something akin to deep irritation in his eyes.
"It's not your problem, so I'd appreciate it if you would stop nagging at me like a parent. You're not my father." He snapped.
Nuju visibly winced, a sore spot being touched. It wasn't much a secret as he wished it could have been. His and Matoro's relationship from long before all of this might as well have been a father-son relationship. Work or no work, they were near inseparable, constantly at each other's sides….
But ever since Matoro left…no…ever since he came back, everything, their world, their lives, they were all turned upside down. And the lie…
Oh that terrible, awful, horrendous lie.
They said he had run away like a coward. They told him that the Toa had simply ran off when it was apparent that he let Mata-nui die. They told him that he was a coward, and didn't even leave Nuju a parting farewell. They said he was dead…
When in reality, they had banished his beloved boy without his knowing. His colleagues, his friends, had lied and told him Matoro had ran off like a coward, when they themselves couldn't work up the bearings to outright tell him they exiled him. They were the cowards, not Matoro. Never his Matoro.
Although, he could see why they would lie to him and leave him out of the decision. The other Turaga all knew, that if anything, even they themselves, were intentionally going to bring harm or punishment to Matoro, he would defend him until his last breath. If he couldn't stop the exile, he would put himself in it as well to stay by Matoro's side and protect him, Toa or not.
You gently hold me and say to me as I cringed,
"You're the most wonderful person I have ever met."
"Never do I wish to lose you again,
Beloved child of mine."
I wept in your arms.
A pause ensured, but was later broken by Matoro himself.
"Sorry…" he said, barely above a whisper, and not turning to meet Nuju's gaze.
But Nuju heard him and the emotions in his voice. A tiny smile broke over Nuju's face at this; no matter how cold and cynical Matoro would seem, he knew his kind heart was still in there. He could never hurt anyone like that.
"Matoro," He started, "Come over here and eat. It's not healthy to keep denying it." He said.
An aggravated sigh was heard, followed by a thoughtful silence. After a moment, Matoro carelessly tossed his knife and sharpener back onto the overly cluttered counter and sharply turned to Nuju, his eyes narrowed. Without a word, he made his way to the table and sat down across from Nuju, refusing to meet his gaze. But the icy Turaga didn't mind, instead opting to open up the bag and set its contents on the table before them.
"It isn't much this time, but it should keep you fed for the rest of the week." Nuju said, trying to usher a few words out of Matoro.
But, no such luck, as his only response was a low 'hmm' of acknowledgment and a nod. Nuju wasn't surprised, but he had at least hoped to be.
A few small loaves of bread, a few water canteens (all of which were full), fruits, a few vegetables, a few packaged products, and meats (both cooked and some uncooked for later consumption).
Selecting a Bula Berry from the assortment, Matoro quietly took a few bites out of it. But try as he might, he knew he couldn't avoid his ex-Turaga's gaze forever, nor could he keep silent forever. And knowing this, he figured now was a good time to ask…
"Why are you doing this?" he said quietly.
Even though the entire world laughed at and despised me,
I had someone who needed me,
And that's all I need to be happy.
But I hide this happiness behind a veil of Red,
And discard the White garment that imprinted a smile.
Nuju, halfway through a piece of Muaka Jerky, looked at Matoro with a perplexed expression, not fully understanding. He swallowed the dried meat he still had in his mouth before speaking.
"I don't understand." He said. Matoro's eyes narrowed.
"Yes, you do. You understand what could happen if you are found so much as even speaking about me in public. You know what will happen if someone finally catches you doing your stupid weekly visits to me. You know what can happen if you are caught with me in the same room and talking to me like you are now!"
Nuju didn't even so much as flinch at the Toa's outburst. Quite frankly, he pretty much blew some kind of gasket whenever he came over to see him. It was hurtful, knowing you weren't welcome somewhere where someone you care about is. But at the same time, Nuju was relieved. It meant the Matoro he knew was still in there and was concerned for his wellbeing. As much as he lied with his face, his words, his actions, he would always be a terrible liar when it came to others' wellbeing.
Sighing, Nuju shook his head, a weary smile making its way over his face.
"I do this because I care about you. I don't care about any consequences that will come to me; as long as I know you're alive and safe, I will endure anything they throw at me." He said softly.
Matoro scowled, a look not fitting to his once gentle features. But he said no more and went back to eating his fruit. He had no other words for Nuju now.
As the years of solitude began to pass,
The land became engulfed by a bright White city,
The Red and newly formed Gold King decreed,
"Those who associate with the exiled Son of White shall be shown no mercy."
"Those who speak his name,
Or his words shall join him in his solitude."
"Beloved as he was,
He shall be no more."
But it was true. Nuju didn't care if he was imprisoned, tortured, or exiled for speaking with Matoro. He would welcome being exiled if it meant he could be with his Toa. But if that happened, Matoro would never forgive him; he'd told him this several times…
"If you get caught and are exiled, I will never forgive you for your selfishness!" he had said.
After he said those words, Nuju promised him he would not get caught. But in return, he had to allow Nuju to come see him every now and again. Nuju would not deny it; he was selfish for wanting all of this. But he couldn't help it. He loved Matoro too much to just leave him out here and wonder if he was still alive the next day.
Nuju cared too much for his boy to simply forget about him. Matoro was someone so precious to him. He simply wasn't like the other Matoran or Toa, he was special. There was just something in those aquamarine eyes that spoke of an enigma. It drew people in, made them want to know more about him, made them want to reach out to him. And yet…
He was despised enough to be left to fend for himself out in the harsh dead lands of what was once Po-wahi. It was heartless, cruel, simply unforgivable. His once friends didn't even so much as even attempt to go looking for Matoro when he was exiled. No one cared. No one except Nuju cared…
"Would you change anything?" Nuju suddenly asked.
The question was so out of place, Matoro actually looked up at him with a frown. But the question itself seemed to make sense to him, as he set down the berry core and leaned his elbows on the table, looking down at some point of the tabletop.
"You have to ask?" he said.
"If it gets you to talk to me, then I'll ask you what color the sky is." Nuju retorted.
Matoro just barely restrained the smirk from forming over his face at the retort. And as much as he wanted to ignore the question, and Nuju himself, he couldn't.
"Yes…if I could, I'd die like I should have for this world. I wouldn't have hesitated and saved everyone," he said. But he suddenly frowned, almost glaring at Nuju.
"What about you? Would your feelings change at all if I did die? Would you feel any less miserable without me if I was gone? What would you change?" he hissed.
Taken aback, Nuju couldn't help but feel like he was backed into a corner by his own question. And honestly, that was kind what just happened here.
And as if just realizing what he said and asked, Nuju lowered his head with a frown, unable to meet Matoro's scrutinizing gaze. The Toa himself audibly sighed and shook his head.
"It's sad, isn't it? If I died, the world would go on and you would be left to grieve. I don't die, I become exiled, you put yourself in a game of chance and danger, and rest of the world…" Matoro paused, as if thinking.
Nuju waited for him to finish, curious as to what he would say about their world. But alas, Matoro only sighed and crossed his arms.
"And the rest of the world will still go on, with or without us…" he said. But it didn't sound like it was what he had intended to say…
Everyone,
Everyone has gone.
Except for myself,
The White child of a godless world.
I wish that I could've died in your place.
But my cowardice has only lead to misery.
Why must I hide behind this Red veil and lie?
Why,
Oh why...
"…I wish I could have you back." Nuju said softly, more to himself.
"We all wish for someone or something," Matoro said, "But life even before this was never fair. It's just how it is. It's how life is…"
Nuju's hands gripped his knees tightly, "It's not fair, what has been done to you."
"…it's not supposed to be fair. I can only suck it up and deal with it." Matoro said, picking up a canteen for some water.
Nuju, however, disagreed.
"I don't want you to just 'deal with it'!" He snapped, slamming his fists onto the table and toppling over some of the food.
Matoro didn't flinch or change his blank expression. He simply averted his eyes upwards to Nuju and watched him.
"It's…! It's not right! This is not what we used to believe in! You have done nothing wrong! You hesitated, but so what? No one wants to die! Why should you be punished for doing what any sane person would do when faced with their own death?" Nuju rasped, his throat tight and choking his voice.
Matoro still did nothing and said nothing. He simply watched Nuju and waited for him to tire out and quiet down.
"You…damn it, Matoro, you are the bravest person I know. And yet they call you a coward for what you did, when it is they themselves that are the cowards. Why…why do you have to suffer for a wrong that wasn't even your own? Just tell me that! Why must you be punished for being scared to die?" Nuju rasped, close to tears.
Again, Matoro did not speak, at least not at first. The canteen still resting against his lips, he calmly set it down on the table and folded his hands in his lap. He was silent with a distant look in his eyes, his expression thoughtful. And for a moment, Nuju was reminded of the gentle Matoran he once knew.
"…because no one else would willingly become the common evil of an entire city. No one, no matter how brave, would stand and willingly become someone whom is hated by all except a select few."
A throb resonated throughout Nuju's body at his words. He was oblivious to the tears trickling down his face, too consumed by the pain of a swelling heart that desperately went out for his Toa.
"I'm sorry I'm alive."
A habit I keep on saying.
I've always been softly complaining,
About my meaningless existence.
Sadly, Matoro was right. No one, not a Toa, Matoran, or even a Turaga would willingly put himself under the hateful gazes of a city in a dead world. And yet…
Matoro was doing so himself. Not willingly in the beginning, but he was willingly putting himself through it, all for the sake of the people who once loved him that now hate him…
But even so, this knowledge didn't stop the tears from flooding his vision, nor the violent shudder that wracked his frame. His head bowed low, the bittersweet drops dripped onto his lap and the edge of the table, unable to face what had to be the bravest, most selfless boy he knew.
"Nuju…" the gentle, but firm, mention of his name prompted Nuju to look up to his right.
Matoro stood in front of him, his expression blank, but his eyes expressed faint concern and interest. It only made him want to cry even harder though. But the feel of a smaller, colder hand grasping his seemed to slow the flow of tears, eyes wide with surprise at the gesture.
"Stop torturing yourself like this; it's not worth it. You deserve better than this weight on your shoulders," He said, his cold hand squeezing Nuju's, "Please, stop caring about me. You'll only get hurt in the end…"
"But…but you-!"
"But nothing! Nuju, I already went through my self-pity, I don't need someone doing it all over again for me. That isn't what I want from you."
Nuju bit his lip, his larger hand tightening around Matoro's.
"Then what do you want from me…?" he choked. Matoro sighed and knelt in front of him, gazing up at him with a familiar emotion flashing through his eyes.
"I want you to move on. I want you to be happy. I want you to stop hurting yourself…" For once, during the entire duration of seeing Matoro secretly, he smiled gently, "I want you to let me go."
Nuju stared at Matoro in disbelief. Let…let him go? Be happy? How? How can he possibly be happy without Matoro? How could he ask him of such a thing? How could he…?
"I…no…I can't! I can't just-!" Nuju choked.
"Yes, you can. I know it will hurt; it'll hurt for a long, long time. But the pain will go away." Matoro said calmly.
"But I-"
"No, no more of this 'I can't'. Because you can, and you will, for both our sakes." Matoro said, holding his free hand up to Nuju to get him to stop speaking.
It seemed Nuju found himself under Matoro's spell, unable to talk back when Matoro didn't want him to. Unable to speak and voice his incapability to forget about someone he loved so much, he simply wept silently.
But unable to hold it in anymore, he reached out and tightly secured Matoro in his arms between his knees, silently crying into his hair.
Matoro let him hold him, even letting his own arms wrapped around Nuju's waist in a firm hold, resting the side of his head against his chest. He could hear his frantic, weeping heartbeat and choked breathing. His Turaga was miserable, and it was because he had to pay the price of knowing he was alive by never getting the chance to take him back. He gets the knowledge he was alive, but he isn't allowed to take care of him like he always had.
I started living in a small hut in a once thriving village.
I need not have heard the Red and Gold king's decree.
He found me near my new home.
It began when he saved me when I was unconscious on the ground.
"Nuju…" Matoro started softly, having lost the will to try and push his Turaga away with harsh words and tone. He felt Nuju squeeze his torso in acknowledgment, and he sighed.
"You…need to go home now. The sun will be up soon…" he said sadly. He couldn't hide the remorse in his voice anymore.
He felt Nuju tighten his grip around his body considerably, as if refusing to let go, which was probably the case. He didn't want to leave Matoro. He didn't want to forget. He didn't want to let go!
"Nuju, please, for me." He heard Matoro say.
"No! I can't, I don't want to! I already lost you all those years ago, I won't lose you again! Not after all of this…not after the lie…not after Dume did this to you…!"
A strange expression came over Matoro's face at his words, but it quickly vanished with a blink.
"Nuju…believe me, this hurts me too. But you and I both know this cannot go on forever. They will find out later. Maybe not today, tomorrow, or next week, or even next year. But eventually, they will find out…" The Toa's eyes suddenly hardened and he clutched Nuju tighter, "And if you get caught and are hurt or worse, I will never forgive myself, or you."
His words, more than once repeated to him, seemed to reach Nuju, as the Turaga slowly released Matoro and sat back, looking down at him with shaking hands. Matoro's expression softened at his Turaga's lost expression, and he stood up and took his hand again.
"I'm not going to get hurt, nor will I disappear. I'll still be here, but you need to stop coming here before we both get in trouble. You need to trust me…"
Nuju still didn't speak or move, still staring up at Matoro with a blank, lost expression in his bleary eyes. But Matoro was having none of it, and tightly squeezed his hand hard enough to break him out of his trance.
"Nuju…do you trust me?" he asked softly.
Nuju swallowed and bit his lip. It wasn't about his not trusting Matoro, it was about him not trusting the rest of the world. What if someone came out here to try and hurt him? What if he got hurt while hunting? What if those Bohrak came back and killed him? What if, what if, what if…
There were too many what ifs. Too many possibilities. Too many days he could be spending with Matoro that he would not allow Nuju to have. There was too much pain…
Those familiar aquamarine eyes gazed down at him patiently, yet pleadingly. If he couldn't get Nuju to stop this madness and stay away from him, Matoro knew it would only end badly. There wasn't a doubt in his mind; they will get caught if this was kept up. And he didn't want the knowledge that he was the cause of his Turaga's punishment hanging over his head. He would neverforgive himself…
He would never forgive Nuju.
But getting no response other than a defiant expression from Nuju, Matoro could only sigh. It seemed he didn't have a choice.
"Nuju, if you do not stop this…" Matoro started, feeling a throbbing sting ignite in his chest, "I will kill myself."
It wasn't right. It was terrible. It was cruel. But so was what Nuju was doing to himself by being here.
The Turaga's once defiant expression abruptly changed to one of disbelief and utter shock. The blood quickly drained from his face at his words, and he was inclined to believe Matoro was lying.
But oh how those eyes never lied…
Before long, I would come again.
But that boy and I are so different from what we used to be.
In the cold,
Merciless,
Desert of the night,
A threat was depicted,
Through Blue eyes behind a Red veil.
"Wha…what…?" Nuju breathed, as if his entire breath was taken from his body. He refused to believe what he was just told. It was not possible…
"Don't play stupid Nuju, you damn well heard me," Matoro said, expression never changing, "And you know I mean it."
Lying. He had to be lying. It wasn't true! Matoro would never…
'Déjà vu…' was the thought in the very back of Nuju's head.
But no. Those eyes told no lies. That face gave no indication of deceit. Matoro could lie and deceive through his mouth and actions, but never his eyes. There was no hiding it.
Matoro was threatening him with his own life…
"Why would you…?"
"Because, we both know you wouldn't risk it. Because you have made it apparent that this entire mess will keep going unless I do something…" A light pause, and a saddened expression crosses his eyes, "Because I care…"
No other words were said, instead, actions spoke louder than any threat or plead.
Rising shakily from the chair he had previously occupied, Nuju couldn't stop himself from once again embracing his Toa, but with a much more gentle hold, as if he was afraid he would break. But it didn't matter too much to him, because those were the exact words he had been desperately wishing to hear from Matoro. Those words would give him the tiny amount of strength he would need to go back home, and stay there…
Returning the embrace, Matoro had to fight off his own emotional resolve. He buried his face into Nuju's neck, committing his unique scent to memory.
No, he was not lying when he said he would kill himself if Nuju ever came to him again. No, he didn't wish to hurt his Turaga so deeply with those words. And no, he never wished to see his Turaga hurt like this, or by others because of this, ever again.
But yes…
If hurting his Turaga was what spared him from imprisonment and resentment, then he would do everything in his power to fulfill his kind intentions with cruelty. It was the only way to spare him from the truth…
'He can never know…' he thought.
What felt like hours seemed to pass, when in reality it had only been a few minutes of the two tightly clutching each other in desperation.
Nuju still refused to let him go.
"Nuju…" Matoro started, firmly, "Go home."
"…"
Matoro sighed. He sometimes wished Nuju wasn't so stubborn and difficult. Granted, it was a trait he admired in him, it often times got on his nerves. But now wasn't the time to be admirable of something that could potentially get them both in trouble. He had to go, and he had to go now. Too much time had passed.
Ah,
How can this be?
He truly is indeed,
The Son of Evil…
As if on autopilot, or simply because he was possessed by some unknown entity, Nuju let Matoro lead him like a lost child outside and to his Husi. He didn't know why, but he seemed to have little to no control over his body. One minute he had been tightly grasping Matoro in his arms, and the next, he was being led outside by his hand. Any other time he would have found the situation to be slightly degrading, but at the moment, he was too out of it to really care…
Saddling up and making sure all was in order on his Husi, Matoro waited for Nuju to mount his ride and part with their usual farewells. Nuju seemed to stall for a long while, simply staring at the saddle bridles with a far off gaze in his now foggy eyes.
He was obviously either distraught, stalling, or both. Matoro could only guess it was the latter. He always seemed to find a reason to stall before he left. It was both annoying and enduring, but he would never admit it…
"Nuju, please…" He pleaded.
Nuju blinked his bleary eyes, as if just now realizing where he was and what he was doing. He looked to Matoro on his right, where he almost always used to be, and stared at him for a while.
"You can't stay here." Matoro stated. Nuju sighed.
"I know…"
Another moment seemed to pass between the two, as if both were stalling. It was quite unnerving, if not a bit bothersome. But Matoro would not stand for it any longer. Nuju had to leave, and if he didn't do so now, he was going to do something they would both regret.
"Nuju, get on your Husi and go. I don't want to see you around here ever again," He said a bit icily, though his reluctance was still apparent, "Am I clear?"
Nuju didn't even flinch at his words, by now far too used to them. That, or he was unintentionally numbing himself to Matoro's harsh words. He didn't know.
However, he wasn't going to make their last meeting meaningless.
Matoro, not expecting the sudden affection, couldn't help but cringe slightly as Nuju gave him one last hug and ran a hand through his hair.
"This isn't the end Matoro," He whispered, "I'll get you back, I promise you. I'll come back for you once things are settled."
Matoro didn't say a word, but simply let Nuju say his empty words and promises. That's all they would be to him.
"I don't care what the others say, I'll come back and save you…" The icy Turaga nuzzled the side of his head with a broken smile, "Wait for me. Just hang on a little longer and wait for me. I'll get you out of here, I promise…"
Matoro sighed against his shoulder, halfheartedly embracing him back.
"Don't make promises you can't keep…" he said.
"It's not an empty promise! I will come back for you one day. Just…just wait for me…"
In a desert at the edge of an empty village,
Stands a lonely boy.
I come up from behind him,
I take a knife out of my pocket,
I wind it in the Red veil that binds him to his lies,
And swing it back...
"Wait for me…" he whispered one last time.
Matoro sighed. Didn't he know those words would only hurt them both in the end? His time would come, no matter how determined Nuju was. It was inevitable.
"Go home…" he rasped. He could already feel his own overflowing emotions about to burst forth from his mouth. He couldn't risk this going on any longer.
Smiling sadly into Matoro's hair, Nuju could only sigh. Of course he wouldn't believe him, but as long as he understood his words, his promises, then that was good enough. He will come back for Matoro, and he will be free of this exile.
He just had to wait for him for a little longer.
Releasing Matoro, Nuju brushed the long bangs out of his Toa's face like a fretting parent. He smiled at him one last time before saying,
"This isn't the last we'll see of each other." He said. Matoro scowled defiantly.
"Go home…!" he snapped.
Nuju's smile didn't falter at his words. Before he mounted his husi, he bowed his head down and placed a warm kiss to his Toa's forehead. Again, Matoro couldn't help but cringe, but this time because he was on the verge of his own breakdown from that simple affection.
Finally pulling away, and with one last glance, Nuju finally mounted his ride and grabbed his reins.
"I'll see you soon Matoro." He said.
"It's 'goodbye' Nuju, not 'see you soon'…" Matoro corrected.
"Heh, says you. But if I must, then, goodbye, Matoro…" Snapping his reins, Nuju finally rode off and left.
He was a fair distance away before, but in a flash, it seemed to finally hit Nuju that he would never be allowed to see Matoro again under his own threat…
Ignoring the sense of dread in his chest and allowing himself to weep even as he was carried back home, Nuju reminded himself of his promise to Matoro. He will come back for him. He would not break his promise! Matoro just had to wait for him. Just wait for him…
'Wait for me…' he thought.
Back at the lone standing hut, Matoro could be seen watching him go until he was nothing but a dot vanishing into the horizon. It was honestly such a cliché moment, he almost wanted to laugh. But he didn't. There was no laughing here, not now, not ever.
And once he was sure he was gone, Matoro shuffled back into his home and plopped down onto his bed, his head bowed low and his hair draping over his face.
There is something I must to confess to you,
Yet I couldn't utter these words to you.
You are the boy I was back then,
A very,
Very lonely boy.
Living all alone,
Is so very sad.
Matoro didn't linger on his bed long, no later lifting his head up and sighing shakily.
"How odd," he started to himself, "That he still continues to think it was Dume who made the decision to exile me…" he muttered.
Reaching under his rather pathetic looking pillow, he pulled out a dusty old journal Nuju had given to him on a previous visit. He had once called it useless junk, and a waste of space, but now, he silently thanked his Turaga for giving it to him.
Flipping it open and turning over page after filled in page, he came to a blank one in the near back. The journal would be full soon, he would need to use the rest of the pages sparingly.
Picking up a piece of lead, he began writing…
x~x~x
I cannot say I am surprised anymore…
It seems the universe, despite being dead, still enjoys seeing me wallow in misery. And all because of a simple slip-up from a drunken fool and two pathetic sympathizers. Nuju, you pathetic man, why must you always make me want to smile after all this time? You are a horrible man for making me miss you, for making me long for your presence here.
You are such a selfish man…
For making me wish I never put myself in exile for the benefit of our world.
I can still remember that day, the day I returned a failure and was immediately called to a meeting with our Turaga.
Nuju wasn't present with them…
At first, I was terrified. I won't lie, the thought of what was to possibly come to me for my hesitation could be dire. A crime such as this usually results in the worst punishment possible; execution.
However, no such thing happened. No execution, no punishment, none of that. It was worse…
They forgave me. The Turaga all forgave me and pitied me. Whether it was because of my personal past history with them or something else, I'll never know. But in the end, they said they were going to keep my letting Mata-nui die away from the public and protect me…
I refused to be pitied and put before an entire city.
I would NOT be pitied for a fault, intentional or not! I would take responsibility no matter what. However, I knew whatever was to come to me would have to contribute to the city. And then it hit me…
"Put me in exile." I had said. I'd never seen the Turaga so confused.
This city, after this kind of chaos, needs only one thing for it to go on in peace and harmony…
A common evil; that which is despised and hated by all but a select few. But enough to unite a civilization into one by a shared anger.
I am not ashamed to admit. People are like wild rahi. On any normal day, predators are predators and prey is prey. But when a common threat comes along, they WILL band together to fight it off. They will unite despite natural law and fight tooth and nail to avoid harm to themselves and their homes. It's primitive, but also an advantage.
These facts can lead up to only one solution the Turaga could not deny unless they wanted their cities to fall.
I made them all swear to a secret…
I told them to exile me and publicly announce it. I told them to tell all of Metru-nui that I had failed in reviving Mata-nui and let him die. I told them to put a label on me as an abomination, a shameful outcast, a disgrace. I told them to show me no mercy…
However, there was a small problem to this…
Nuju. You…are such a stupid man for caring so much about me. Why must you care so much for me? Why do you make me care so much for YOU? Why must you be kind to me? Why did I have to lie to you?
I hate lying to you…I hate making others lie to you for me…I HATE that I have to lie to keep you safe.
I told the Turaga to make it a law to never mention my name. If Nuju doesn't hear my name and the word 'exile' together, he won't find me or connect the pieces. I told them to tell Nuju I had run away when I had returned. I told them to tell Nuju that I was dead…
They questioned my last request, but deep down, they all knew why I asked them of this. If Nuju believed I was dead, he would not go looking for me, and the rest of Metru-nui would think me exiled and continue their hatred towards me. Forbidden to speak my name, Nuju would never make the connection, and I would remain hidden.
And in return, I would become that which this city needs to thrive off of. With Nuju deceived and the city united by hate, I became their savior in a way…
I became that which was despised and united all who despised me as well…
I became that which was hated even more than Makuta Teridax…
And I accepted it without complaint.
And despite their objections, they all knew that this was an even greater mercy than simply taking my great failure and 'sweeping it under the rug', as they say. No, I would never be able to live a normal life with the knowledge I had. I would never be able to look at Nuju and pretend everything was alright. I would never, ever, be able to live on if I was forced to go on with this burden on my heart. I would sooner die before I did that.
And they all knew this, and they all had to accept it. It was for the sake of not just Metru-nui, but for every living being that thrived within Mata-nui's shell.
Haha, it's strange. For the first time in history, it is not a being of darkness that is despised and feared, but a Toa. And I happily welcome this hate. Because I wanted this. I strove to become that which is evil in this world.
I used to be that which was good and just. Even as a Matoran, I was often told I was the embodiment of good and kindness. I don't know about that, but a fair few people have told me this in their own ways. I was pure, a clean, white being.
I was the Son of White.
But I am such no more. I am tainted. I have been sullied and stained. No more can I even be that which is pure and white.
Yes, I am that which is evil to all who live and breathe.
I am the Son of Evil…
And I happy to be such…
x~x~x
Setting his lead down, Matoro stared off into the pages he just filled out for a moment, as if reminiscing. Yes, he was this world's embodiment of evil now. And he forever would be. If there was no hate in any world, there could never be real peace.
Matoro had to smile in irony at the thought. Without hatred and chaos, there can never be peace…
He chuckled and shook his head. Ah, people will always be primitive in their minds. There could be no such thing as peace without some form of hatred…
That man who couldn't do anything without that boy,
Would find himself trapped,
Lost,
Confused.
But he would hold himself tall,
And strong.
All for his City of White…
Seeing a sliver of light peeking in through his window, Matoro paid it no mind. He had long since learned to ignore the time that went by in his home. It would only make his stay in exil more lonesome and tiring if he kept track of time.
Picking up his lead again, he began writing again…
x~x~x
How sad…
That with all of these alliances and lack of evil, they still believe they are in hell.
How selfish…
That even with the entire world all under one city, that they still strive for their own greed and power.
How stupid…
Because that's what got Mata-nui killed in the first place.
How interesting…
That the fall of a selfish god would bring about a true paradise and true peace…
x~x~x
He closed the journal, feeling no long able to write in it. There was only one last page left after all, and Matoro would rather save it for something important. Whatever that may be. He honestly didn't know.
With a sigh of exhaustion, and possibly a bit of longing, Matoro fell back onto his bed and stared at the ceiling, his journal clutched to his chest.
"Never keep promises you cannot fulfill…" he breathed to himself.
Nuju was a fool. A horrible, awful, kind, and dearly missed fool. He thinks he can get Matoro back. He honestly thinks there was such thing as a happy ending. Such a sentimental old fool…
'When in reality, there is no such thing as a happy ending.' He thought, gazing out into the desert through a crack in the door.
At that moment in the dawn,
I saw and illusion…
Odd, Matoro could have sworn he was seeing a young man clad in greys, whites, and blacks heading his way with a companion clad in gold.
He blinked for a moment, wondering if the mirage would vanish. But it didn't.
It actually seemed to be becoming clearer as it got closer…
He sat up and looked closer through the crack, his eyes not surprised yet uncertain. How odd, the one in gold was recognizable enough. A light Toa. His companion, however, was unknown. And yet…
'I wonder who that boy is?'
X~X~X~X~X~X
Aaahh…I'm not too sure about this one. Because honestly, it feels like a repeat of my Never FFF fic, just taken place in a different universe. But I don't know, I like it in its own way. It more or less focuses on more active and mental conflict rather than emotional conflict as seen in my Never FFF three-shot!
NOTICE PLEASE!
Please read these details to make sense of a few parts of the story.
Husi- a large, ostrich like rahi. (I can honestly imagine this being a riding rahi in place of horses. Giant bird like animals have often been used in many sci-fi or anime shows as such. Ex, Nausica of the valley of the wind, Avatar: the last Airbender, I THINK in Star Wars, etc.)
Nuju's name- Matoro refers to Nuju as just plain 'Nuju' instead of the respectful 'Turaga Nuju' in this fic, both from spite and in a sense not being his Toa anymore.
Matoro's claws- In Matoro's Mahri form, he has a pair of double claws on his left hand. I am honestly not sure if it is detachable or not, but here, it is.
Time passage- This fic is keeping to the chronological time of the actual canon verse. So here, it has been 10,000 years since Mata-nui's death.
Matoro's new color sig- A sign or mourning or sorrow, wearing black often symbolizes ones feelings of loss or hopelessness.
Matoro's numerous weapons- Once a hunter, it's safe to say he still uses this past skill to hunt for his own food.
Muaka Jerky- Really, I have almost NO DOUBT that this is a real product in their world. The Alaskan people eat Whale Jerky, Seal Jerky, Moose Jerky, anything that has a hide, it's been turned into jerky.
Red and Gold King- in the lyrics, both refer to Turaga Dume and the newly formed Turaga Takanuva.
Consequences of Nuju's meeting- True fact; Nuju could get into serious trouble for associating with an exile. In many countries where it is practiced, anyone who associates with an exile can be punished in a variety of ways, all from exiling the person, to execution, to public humiliation or torture.
Po-wahi- in the canon verse, Matoro was, in fact, banished to Po-wahi.
Matoro's teammates- I honestly don't know why Matoro's teammates haven't gone to Matoro or done something in the canon verse. I can only guess it was because of law. In this fic, it is unknown and left up to the reader's imagination.
Dying vs. failure- In truth, Nuju's feelings for Matoro's situation most likely wouldn't have changed even if Matoro had died and saved their world.
Willing isolation- Also fact. Not many would willingly put themselves under the spotlight of being a poster child target for other's hatred.
The Bohrak- They were the ones responsible for 'clearing away' all foliage, homes, etc from Mata-nui's 'face'. it's safe to say they can also destroy living beings to complete their mission, so Nuju's worry isn't unfounded.
Son of White- White is the symbolic color of purity, heaven, the dove, peace, cleanliness, gentleness, light, chastity, and salvation. As an angelic color symbol, and also one of the two spectrum bases (the other being black) it is considered the embodied color of 'good'.
Matoro's threat- Threatening Nuju himself would do nothing to help Matoro. So using his own life as a bartering chip is the best course to take to get his Turaga under his control.
Red veil- a red veil is a symbolic reference. A veil represents bashfulness, secrecy, chastity, and deceit. It's supposed purpose is to hide one's face to deceive expressions. While the color red represents passion, love, wrath, fire, anger, and blood. These all play a key role in Matoro's persona in this fic. As he lies to keep Nuju safe from the truth, but it is also a mask he has to wear, here the veil comes into play. Combining with his need to lie to protect and show anger as his defense, a Red Veil is the resulting depiction.
Blue Eyes- Matoro's eyes in my verse are always blue. Blue is a very symbolic color. It can represent sadness, melancholy, remorse, calmness, serenity, relaxation, kindness, sensitivity, inner turmoil, gentleness, honesty, and water. These being the opposite of red, they are covered by the Red Veil to hide these traits.
Son of Evil- as Matoro has put himself in the position of the world's common evil, he can also be referred to as 'The Son of Evil'.
The knife- A knife is symbolic in the sense it is used as a means of 'cutting away'. Whether it be the past, a relationship, or a metaphorical veil, the knife is used as the minds way of cutting off that which is hurting us.
The young man in grey, white, and black- this is Takanuva in his 'Twilight' form. His gold companion is the new Toa of light.
I wonder who the boy is- the last verse is also a part of the lyrics and a thought from Matoro.
Canon verse mixing- As the story starts, it takes place in the canon verse, and ends where Takanuva meets up with Matoro to acquire help from him, thus taking off into the actual canon verse.
~x~x~x~x~
But anyways, back to seriousness…
There's a pretty deep reason as to why I wrote this. And that can be described in a single emotion.
Anger. You see, when I first read 'The Kingdom' mini-series, I noticed something as I read through it. One, an entire universe was dead. Two, because of its death, hundreds of species of people were united and brought together into a true unity nation. Three, a once great city became even greater than it was before. Four, no evil was present in this kingdom. Five, all of these gifts were given to them became Matoro had failed to revive Mata-nui. And of course, six, the main set-off point, everyone hated Matoro for it.
It truly is odd isn't it? Because as Takanuva said in the series, "Who would have imagined that Matoro's failure would have resulted in a paradise like this?"
And it's true. And I find it disgusting that with all of these positive happenings, that they would shun him for this. I was also quite pissed Nuju wasn't doing anything in it…
Or at least, that's what it seemed.
It probably was what it seemed in the canon verse, but in a sense, we don't really know that. Who knows? Maybe he really was doing what I just wrote in here, or maybe something similar? For all we know, he really is sneaking off and secretly rendezvousing with Matoro. Who knows? And that question is what I honestly love about stories. There's such a surplus of 'what ifs' that you could make it out to be whatever you want.
But even though, on a deeper note, some of these words I wrote in this fic are true.
People are naturally selfish, greedy, and resentful. It's sad really, because in real life, we cannot live or get along peacefully without some form of conflict or an embodiment of hatred. We NEED to have something to hate to live happily. Humans strive for conflict and disorder, as it is in our nature. In the last one hundred years, we have yet to go one year without some war going on somewhere. Some are even happening now that we don't even know about. True peace is nonexistent, but we can live quite contently as long as we have our negative emotions set on something or someone.
A common evil is something that we live for. We strive to make someone out there that evil being. And once we have it, we spread that hatred like a disease onto other people, until we become a plague. And like a plague or disease, hatred can never truly be extinguished. It will always be a part of our lives, and our nature. Because humans are more like animals than people believe, we strive to find that common evil if it means we don't find ourselves as that evil person and assure our own safety. Because we are selfish and live off our own greed. Because we are a disease.
So really, if one day, you find yourself reflecting on someone or something of that which you hate, stop and think for a moment. Does this person deserve it? Did we make him/her out to be like this? Really ask yourself, who's the REAL evil in this world?
Disclaimer: 'Daughter of White' was found on youtube. It ties into the 'Daughter of Evil', 'Servant of Evil', and 'Story of Evil' series and other videos relating to it. All video vocals were produced and fan-made by Vocaloid. None belong to me.
Read and review please!
NOTICE!
I am wondering if I should put up a third part to this going through both how Nuju found out Matoro was exiled, and the process of Matoro's actual exile meeting. Originally, this was going to be a three-shot, but I wasn't sure if that would make this whole thing overkill or something. But anyways, what do you think? Please respond!
~M