Awakening

By the time the nameless Matoran woke the next day, Bism had harnessed his Rahi and drove down the road, the brooch and spear the only things that signified he had ever been there. The female smiled slightly as she fastened her cloak around her throat with the silver pin: the Po-Matoran was one of the few beings that was kind to her in the exiled life she led just a kio away from civilization. He rarely came this way – he liked Va-Koro even less than she did, which was saying something – but he always got good prices for his merchandise there, and he was always eager to trade for her herbs. But now he was gone, and until he made the return journey up the road, his visit only existed in her memory.

Memory."The Matoran" screwed up her eyes, trying desperately to remember, as she usually did. She knew that she had not spent all her life this way, but her earliest memories were of awakening in a Va-Koro medical clinic. Before being cast out, she had been told a group of villagers had found her unconscious body outside the marble walls, with no memory of what had occurred to bring her there. It had also been said that her name was found, but before it could be told to her, the kindly healer that had been attending to her had been cut off by his zealous underlings, who kicked her out with little preamble.

She'd been living here, like this, for nearly a thousand years, still without her name or memory – or explanation of what she had done to deserve this existence. It wasn't like it was bad – she actually preferred being near the forest than living in a village (though she reasoned it might have something to do with her treatment whenever she entered Va-Koro) – but the people of the village, obsessed with purity of the soul, treated her like dirt; like she didn't even exist.

Biting down on her tongue to stem the tide of her simmering anger, "the Matoran" stalked out of her bedroom into the living room, barely glancing at her new spear as she grabbed her machete. Her supply of firewood was running low; she'd have to go get more from the forest. The back door slammed shut behind her, loudly and dramatically, and the echoes rang out into the dawn.

XxX

Where was she?

Nothing but the dark metal confines of the object that preserved her.

No touch of the Master.

The Master had been in danger … yes, now she remembered. She had felt an aura of darkness, and sensed the Master being injured and defeated. Fearing for her existence, instinctively knowing she had to protect herself, and pulling away. Being passed from carrier to uneasy carrier, until she reached this place, whatever it was.

She reached out, felt for the Master. Kio away. She could return to her the same way she had left her, but her flight had left her drained. No, she could not return that way. Not yet, at least.

With sullen thoughts, she rose out of her metal seal, what passed for arms folded over her breastplate. It was still in the ashen condition it had been when she had been ensnared.

It was inevitable that the beings of darkness would reach for her again, the same way it had when her fragile spark of life had been snuffed out. But perhaps she could hide long enough to gather her strength and return –

Wait.

She felt a familiar presence – the one that had helped awaken her from her post-teleportation slumber. It wasn't as familiar as the Masters', neither of them, but it was so much stronger.

Maybe that person could help. She turned, trying to find that feeling again so she could speak to them.

There. Outside, not far into the forest this homestead lay by. Easily, she stepped away from what bound her to the world of the living and moved through the walls, looking for the one that could help her.

XxX

The nameless Matoran had only been hunting for wood for about ten minutes when she began to feel a prickling sensation on the nape of her neck; an instinctive alert that something was watching her. While she wasn't in deep enough for her to gain the attention of ash bears and Kavinika, past experiences – even though she couldn't remember most of them – had taught her to not ignore instinct.

Quickly, she wheeled to face the tree line, machete at ready. When her momentum was spent, she saw nothing before her, yet as she began to look away, "the Matoran" saw a flash of movement in the corner of her eye.

Fear crawled in her brain as she whipped to face that direction, only to see nothing but more foliage. "Who's there?" she called into the trees, sounding braver than she was.

A soft sigh, riding a breeze to caress her ears, pealed out from behind her, and she spun around in time to see the being she had seen step out from behind a tree.

The figure was undoubtedly a Toa, but she was no Toa the nameless Matoran had ever seen. This female was taller than any of Va-Koro's three Toa, and much paler, with eyes the color of periwinkles. Her armor color was hard to make out – a blackish substance obscured it for the most part – but her mask was in the classic Hau shape. Slung over her shoulders was a large quiver, packed with strange arrows and an unstrung bow, all carefully stored inside the horn-shaped container.

The Toa's eyes fell on the Matoran, who shivered from the force of the invisible beams that were focused on her. "Who are you?" she tried to say, but the three words came out as a whisper.

The unknown Toa frowned, like she was trying to remember something; the nameless Matoran was struck by the strong resemblance between herself and the stranger. "Shiri," she finally said, dawning remembrance illuminating her facial expression. "My name is Shiri – or was, back when I still lived."

A ghost! The Matoran was struck by amazement. The people of Va-Koro had a very strong opinion when it came to the spirit realm, stubbornly saying that any disembodied soul that hadn't used an Iden to get there was evil, but looking upon this misty, confused female, she couldn't see why they felt that way.

"Where did you come from?" she asked Shiri; the Toa frowned once more in response. "I can't remember where I came from – while I was alive," she finally said. "But I know what is binding me to the physical realm."

"Your binding?"

"A spear, called the Spear of Ajax. It's in your home right now; that was where I slept for years uncounted."

"The Matoran" knew that she ought to be firing off a million different questions – how Shiri had gotten bound into the spear, why she was talking to her, what she wanted her to do – and they were present in her head; however, the only thing that really stuck (and managed to reach her tongue) was the comment, "You speak really eloquently."

Shiri laughed at that, after a surprised expression had appeared first; her laughter sounded like bells chiming faintly. "I guess I do," she admitted. "I can't remember much of my life, but I do remember that I had a bit of a flair for the dramatic."

XxX

" … So you were bound to the Spear over there by Ajax?" the nameless Matoran said later on, chewing on a piece of Madu fruit as she sat cross-legged on the floor. Shiri was hovering just across from her, the Spear still leaning against the fireplace.

"Yes, but he didn't realize what he had done – he couldn't see me," Shiri explained. "When he poured his elemental power into that weapon, he made me stronger, far stronger than a wraith like myself should be. You have heard of Halflings, correct?" she asked quickly, wondering if the Matoran knew about those creatures.

Thankfully, the answer was yes; "I hear a lot of gossip from travelers," was the explanation. Shrugging, the deceased Toa of Light continued on. "He never realized what made the weapon I was encased in able to destroy Halflings, but it's a fairly simple process. Halflings are pure shadow. I am pure light and I'm stronger than them, especially with all the Toa power poured into the Spear."

"The Matoran" looked blankly inquisitive, and abruptly Shiri felt shame, like she had been egotistical in her long explanation. Settling onto the floor, the spirit looked steadily back at her host. "But what of you? I haven't heard you give a name, or why you live here with a village so close at hand."

The cloaked female took her time in replying. "It's a bit of a blur. My first memories were of awakening inside a healing clinic in Va-Koro nearly a millennium ago. I had no idea who I was, what tribe I was part of, or where I'd been before I was found outside the village walls.

"Va-Koro is said to be one of the oldest settlements in the universe, and it hasn't changed very much since it was founded. It hosts one of the largest communities of Ce-Matoran, and normally that wouldn't be a bad thing: they're exceptional healers, artists, and philosophers. Problem is that they have a tendency to get bored really easy: again, not usually an issue, except this group didn't get much excitement until the Great Cataclysm.

"There's a theory a Ko-Matoran made years ago: how an area with too much change will be dangerous in a chaotic way, while an area with too little change can freeze, and that can also be a dangerous climate. Va-Koro hasn't changed in hundreds of millennia, and as they went by, the bored Ce-Matoran started thinking about purity, and things began to snowball from there."

The nameless Matoran paused to moisten her dry lips, than continued. "Over time, the community became sort of a group of germ-a-phobes – but in a sense of the spirit, and not in the physical sense. An upper class emerged of the "purest" – the ones that have the strongest personal Light – and the less-pure are ranked down from there."

Shiri had a sickening feeling in her "stomach" as she asked the obvious follow-up question. "And you …?"

"I'm part of the lowest class," she replied, a twisted smile crossing her mask. "It's not to say that I don't have personal Light – I don't think myself as pure evil, and neither do they – but part of their beliefs is that someone of the higher classes can be contaminated by coming into contact with members of the lower classes, especially through their bodies after they die."

Turning aside so she didn't have to see the revulsion on Shiri's face, "the Matoran" stared out the window at the suns as she continued. "It's a twisted sort of logic that runs this place. When they found me, I was unconscious before the city gates. They brought me to their healing clinics, and revived me as they searched my mind for anything that could identify me. At some point, they must have been convinced that I'm contaminated too badly to be allowed to live in the village, and they kicked me out. I don't even know my name, if I had one."

Wanting to get off this subject as quickly as possible, "the Matoran" looked back at Shiri's face; the deceased Toa had to hastily hide the angry, sickened expression from her host. "So what now? You were separated from the bearer of your Spear – Stiaye, was it? – and you want to find her again. Do you want me to help you?"

"Well, yes." The Toa of Light rushed to assure that, "But only if it isn't an inconvenience to you."

The cloaked Matoran laughed, a cold, self-mocking laugh that sent chills racing down Shiri's form. "I've been looking for an excuse to leave this place for years, if only for a short time. I'll help you find Stiaye; I doubt anyone will miss me."

As they rose to their feet, Shiri glanced out the window and shook her head. "It's terrible … such a waste of time and energy, just to regulate people's lives more strictly."

"The Matoran" looked surprised at this insight, but she said simply, "That's Va-Koro. It's been mostly undisturbed for so long, and that's what happens when nothing changes for the better. It got even worse when the Brotherhood revealed their true colors in this world – anyone suspected to have a history with the Makuta was cast out, same as me."

XxX

For the benefit of those that did not read Hero, Shiri was the main character in said songfic. I suggest you read the story if any part of her explanation is confusing. The idea for Va-Koro's social classes came from Hindu customs, along with the customs of the main city described in Tamora Pierce's book Shatterglass.