Fandom - Ninjago
Summary - When Morro is rescued by the Elemental Alliance, he must choose whether or not to continue his search for the Tomb of the First Spinjitzu Master or join the Alliance in their war against the Serpentine. At the same time, he learns something about his Sensei's family that he formerly didn't know, all while uncovering the story of his own forgotten past.
Rating - K+ for light descriptions of wounds and violence. No sex, no swearing.
Characters - Morro, Ray, Maya, Garmadon, Wu, Elemental Masters, and OCs
CHAPTER TWO
Morro woke to the sound of a painfully familiar voice. It was an even, deep timber, one that resembled his Sensei's in several ways but differed in others. The sound itself sent chills racing down his spine. This wasn't just any voice—it was Garmadon. The man that had tried to kill him, and luckily failed.
"We need to hurry. The Serpentine are attacking Stiix. This whole thing was just a hoax to weaken our forces!" he was shouting.
Morro grit his teeth together and pushed himself up, pain slicing through his body as healing wounds were stretched and aching muscles strained back to life. He pushed the blanket aside, dragging his legs over so that his feet were set on the floor. It hurt a lot—but Morro wasn't weak. He'd felt pain before, and he could endure it once again. As soon as weight came onto his feet, he hissed in pain. Evidently, the bottoms of his feet had been burned, but luckily for him they'd already mostly healed.
"Garmadon, hold on," came Ray's voice, "We did find someone in the Caves of Despair. He was trapped in a chamber with a kethanol geyser, says he's the Master of Wind. But he's still very injured."
"Master of Wind?" Garmadon's voice faltered.
Morro staggered toward the tent flap, stumbling to his knees just as he reached out a bandaged hand to take the flap in his hand and push it aside. He grunted, a soft whimper in the back of his throat as he landed on his other hand. He blinked away tears and then reached up, pulling the flap aside. The sunlight hurt his eyes yet again and he squinted. Sure enough, it was the same man that had sheltered him for a night before sending him off to die... what, a few months ago? Morro wasn't sure how long it had been since he'd started his trip to the caves.
Once his eyes got used to the sun, he looked more closely over Garmadon. The man was dressed a little differently, but Morro noticed an expression of shock on his face. Shock that he'd survived. The teen was surprised that he wasn't retaliating against the Elemental Alliance for rescuing him... of course, Garmadon probably could have just killed him. Maybe he preferred sneakier tactics. Maybe Morro should warn Ray and Maya about him...
Suddenly he gasped as the man's eyes flashed toward him. They made eye contact for a brief moment—and Morro was shocked to see that Garmadon seemed less angry and more... afraid?
What sense did that make?
He turned back to Ray. "There's no time. We need to regroup," he said, his voice almost sharp. "You can bring the Master of Wind with us, can't you?"
Ray frowned. "I... I guess we can."
"Then it's settled. We need to leave now."
Morro swallowed. He'd thought he was safe. Now he was in a camp with a man who just tried to kill him. He recalled the glowing green scar left on his chest. He hadn't had it before... Garmadon had to have done something to him. But what? He let the flap fall back down and practically dragged himself back to the bed, coughing and wincing as he curled his knees against his chest beneath the blanket. His blood was rushing in his ears and making his head pound. It was very painful...
"Morro, are you alright?" Maya asked, and he startled a little, turning his head over to look at her.
Should he say something? Should he tell her how Garmadon had tried to have him killed? No, he couldn't , not now when the Serpentine were attacking. He'd wait. He gave a little nod. "There... there was a commotion outside," he rasped out. "I wanted to see what was going on."
She rested a cool hand on his forehead. "You shouldn't have gotten up. Come on, lie back. We have to leave. We'll carry your cot." She propped his head on the pillow, untangling his limbs so that he lay flat on his back. Morro's brow was knitted, and he was worried. He couldn't let his guard down now. Not with Garmadon around. Of all people, it was Garmadon that he feared the most now. But still... why? Why had he tried to kill him?
Morro felt a stinging sensation in his eyes of hot tears. He hadn't done anything. He hadn't hurt him at all.
Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed as the camp was packed up around him and his cot was lifted from the ground. Time seemed to pass in a sluggish but surprisingly swift pace.
When he finally opened his eyes, Morro gasped and shrank away—he saw Garmadon's face over him. His green eyes widened a little bit in fear and he stared at the man, but soon Garmadon vanished from his field of view. Once again there was a hint of fear reflected in the other's own brown eyes. Why was he afraid?
The sway of the cot and the sound of footsteps made Morro feel like drifting off to sleep. His head was still aching and his body still felt sore and raw in places, but he was tired. He tried his best not to sleep, though. He didn't feel safe sleeping around Garmadon... after all, that was when the green scar had happened.
He fought sleep, and he fought it valiantly, but his senses were still a little fuzzy from the gas and he was still weak and wounded. Before too long, he'd lost the battle with sleep and drifted off into nothingness.
It only lasted what seemed like a few moments before he woke again and realized how uncomfortable it was to be bobbing along like this on a dusty road. He blinked twice, then looked over to one side. They were still walking. The sun had risen higher now and it was getting hot. He gave a slight whimper as its rays felt like they were burning the skin of his face.
"Shh, don't worry. We'll stop soon. You can rest at the camp," another voice spoke up, this time one that Morro didn't recognize. He closed his eyes again and tilted his head sideways, shivering slightly despite the heat. That creeping cold in his chest, which had faded slightly for a little while, was returning now. It started just above his heart and then stretched from there through his torso and along his arms and legs and finally to his head, until he was cold all through. He didn't know what it was, but he was pretty sure it had something to do with that odd green scar. When he could talk for more than a few sentences without his throat aching, he would ask about that. That is, if he survived that long.
