Gerilmi

It is time.

The whisper in the dark floated through Turaga Stara's mind as she lay in the arms of dreams. Her hand was clasped over the medallion that had been her last gift from Kronus, the rounded edges leaving dull imprints in her palm. Clouds obscured the words, and she sank deeper into sleep.

It is time, the ethereal voice repeated, more urgently now, and this time her eyes snapped open, fully alert as she sought out the speaker. It had been almost fifty-three years since her last raid on enemy vessels, but after eight centuries of doing just that, there were lessons that the body and soul never forgot.

Snatching up the dagger she always kept on her bedside table, the Turaga flung off her sheets and rolled off the mattress into a crouch that she had practice in – a maneuver that would protect her vital organs from any attackers with her legs and her back braced against her bedframe; it would place her in a position to cripple an opponent's legs. As she triggered her Ceray to pierce the midnight gloom with enhanced night vision, her eyes found nothing solid; no Rahi that had snuck in, or a sentient threat. Yet the voice she had heard hadn't come from her head, she had definitely heard it – so who had spoken to her?

As the thoughts crossed her sharp mind, her mostly-closed door opened with an eerie creeeek, the gap between frame and door showing her living room deserted. Yet Stara swore she saw a misty figure flit out of her eyesight once she had focused on the scene beyond her bedroom.

Slowly, she rose out of her crouch, sheathing her knife on her hip but replacing it with her staff as she walked out into the living room. As she expected, there was no one there when inspected, but she had no doubts that she had seen it. While not nearly as young as she used to be, the Turaga of Lightning was far from senile.

Come outside, Wise One, and join me.

There was that voice again, and while she was still drowsy, Stara knew that it was real, although it was only being heard in her head. Glancing sharply out her window, she swore that she saw the misty figure flit away from the glass panes the moment she looked.

Quietly, she opened her front door and stepped outside, not wanting to wake anyone up that wasn't already up. Keeping her Ceray online, she slipped through her village, heading for the gates that led deeper into the island of Amaria – most particularly towards the Xi-Kini, where the Elemental Well was located. She was sure that the time had come for her to surrender Kronus' gift to the Well, and for what would result from it to happen.

As she expected, her people were standing guard over the gates – the calm that followed the storm seasons was the opportune time for the pirates that were said to lurk in the far south to attack the islands. However, since the destruction of Deimos, she had cultivated the habit of taking late-night strolls, seemingly to rest her mind – in actuality, it was in case this happened. As Stara expected, her people gave a salute as they opened the gates for her, allowing the Turaga to climb the hillside path that led to the grove of trees that were the entrance to the Temple of Lightning.

She paused at the crossroads, eyes lingering on the graveyard at the foot of Lookout Peak. Sekmet had been laid to rest there quietly, in a grave she, Steena, and Adridne had dug themselves. None of the other citizens of the Amari Islands had wished to be present when her remains had been sealed beneath the earth, but as the days went by from the burial, a memorial had accrued before her headstone – a few flowers, some tablets with carved messages. Stara had done nothing to discourage her people from these acts of post-mortem kindness – if anything, she encouraged them to forgive Sekmet for her deeds, for the Xi-Matoran was said to have repented in the end.

Besides, she had bigger things to worry about. Since Chaka's first observations, Stara had begun to watch the night sky herself, and the stars had become even more confused. The Nightborn Stars had intensified in color, while the Sea Star had joined the Black, Storm, Morning, and Red Stars in the new formation. As well, a tiny speck of a light – said to indicate things that are false or corrupted – had entered the mix, causing the two astrologers of the Amaris to be completely stumped on what they meant.

Looking up and seeing no new star shifts, the Turaga turned away and began to walk down the path with its natural archway of bending trees. A sense of serenity washed over her with every step – a feeling she always had when she entered this place – washing away her doubts and fears about the action she was going to undertake.

The sound of the burbling spring reached her ears as she reached the grove, walking up to the carved marble that marked the hole that was the Elemental Well. Reaching up over her head, Stara undid the clasp that held the medallion around her neck, letting the chain and steel gather in her palm.

For a moment she simply looked at it. Kronus, my friend, she thought, biting back her suspicions that the Gravity Toa might have had something to do with Sekmet's death, I hope you knew what you were doing when you told me this, as I'll be throwing away one of my most precious possessions if not.

With that, she threw it into the depths; it quickly plummeted past her sight. Peering into the Well, she tried to listen for any indication that it was still falling – the sound of it scraping against rock, or anything else. But all she heard was silence – for even the spring seemed to have become quiet, like it was signaling the calm before the storm's final push.

All around her, the forest seemed darker, darker –

Then the darkness overwhelmed her.

XxX

When she came to, Stara realized that it was still night, but the sky was lighter – dawn was approaching. She was lying flat on her back, but when she lifted her head, her surroundings were different. Somehow, while she had been unconscious, she had been moved back into her bedroom, sleeping on top of her mattress.

The thought put her ill at ease – surely the guards had not found and moved her, as they were used to her being up at all hours. Deciding to go and ask the night-shift captain, Stara sat up and slung her legs over the side, rising to her feet. She began to turn, meaning to see if her staff and dagger were in their usual spots – then she froze in surprise, like a Rahi deer in the glare of bright lightstones.

She had moved, but her Turaga body still slept on her bed. In addition, she now realized that she had to look down when she examined herself, in a manner that was more like her Toa self than her Turaga shape.

Already suspecting the truth, she looked down at her hands, outstretched before her. They were as pale and translucent as she had thought they would be, like she was a ghost and not a living being: but they were also the heavily-gauntleted hands of a Toa. No wonder she had thought things were alright – in a way, she was more used to her more powerful shape than to her elder version.

"It is a bit of a shock, isn't it?"

The voice behind Stara was friendly and pleasant, as if she was an old friend and he had dropped by her home for a chat – which was true, since they were old friends. Turning away from her bed, the disembodied Toa of Lightning looked Kronus squarely in the eyes and said flatly, "That's the universe's biggest understatement."

The Toa of Gravity let it go with a shrug and a smile. He looked almost the same way he had when Stara had last seen his spirit two years prior: his black and violet armor rippling like liquid air, gold eyes shining behind his Kanohi Iden. Yet she could sense a change in him – he had become far less substantial, and his armor was almost natural in appearance, like it belonged on some wild Rahi instead of a Toa. Even his eyes carried a more primal gleam.

"Why are you still lingering? I thought that Stiaye had freed you from Notus."

"Your medallions," he said simply. Turning briefly, Stara saw that her body was clutching the soul-metal necklace again; Kronus had somehow retrieved it. "When we created them – your siblings and mine – we poured some of ourselves into them, tying a piece of ourselves to the earth so we may finish one last mission: or rather, help another Toa succeed."

"Stiaye's part of this." Stara stated it as a fact, since her intuition told her it was truth and not assumption, and her former leader nodded assent. "I thought so … the stars seemed to indicate that they had something to do with her. Do you know the meaning of the alignments?"

For the first time, a shadow of concern appeared over his face. "I don't know all of it, Stara – certainly not much more than you or Chaka, or any other astrologer. But I know this: somehow, someway, the Nightborn, the Incorruptible Ones, will somehow become false. I have no other knowledge."

A chill went through her. "And Sekmet?"

"Rest assured that we that were under Ajax's command did no deliberate harm to your former villager. The Nightborn brought her to the Cavern of Souls two years before you returned to the Amaris, and ordered Ajax to never allow her to see the suns' light again. Even he cannot go against their wishes. She was tended to the best way spirits can, but the day you set foot on your homeland again was the day life fled from her body."

Reaching over, Kronus clasped Stara's shoulders to better look her in the eyes. "We do not have much time, sister. Change is coming swiftly, and Stiaye will need your guidance in the troubled times that await her. She and her companions will lose far more than they have before now, and the kind of advice she will need is not that of Turaga to Toa, but Toa to Toa.

"She is on the Northern Continent now, but she is separated from the Spear Ajax forged. Find its new bearer – the one that has shared history with us, though our paths never crossed with hers in life. Find her, and you will find Stiaye in time to help her."

Stara's face wrinkled in disgust. "Could I get my directions without the riddles, please?"

"I can't say more than that."

"Can't or won't?"

The Toa of Gravity ignored her critique. "We will cover your absence. Your people will not know that you are gone, with us animating your body. Go." And with that, he vanished in a wisp of lavender energy.

For a moment, Stara's disembodied spirit stood alone in her bedroom, startled by what her friend had said. Then her soulless body rose up on the bed, and in her own voice, she heard, "Go. The Matoran will not see you unless you wish them to."

Well, I guess I've been dismissed. As she floated through the ceiling and into the sky, Stara wondered if this counted as the warning signs of unraveling sanity.

XxX

The metal table was cold. It was something she remembered clearly even after all these years: the metal slab that made her organic components crawl from the chills, the leather straps that tied her down, the blinding spotlight that illuminated her and kept her captors in shadow.

Fear was the primary emotion then. Fear of the unknown, fear of her subjugators – that fear blinded her senses and mind, erasing her knowledge of her name, tribe, and the names and tribes of the other two that were bound on either side. They were her cellmates, friends, and – in some intangible way – her brother and sister.

The red eyes of the Dark Master shone from the tar-black shadow that surrounded them, burning as brightly as ruby coals. Slowly, maliciously, they raised their clawed hand, revealing the syringes clutched in their grasp. A colored tape was wrapped around each of the three injection needles, each a different shade: steel, black, and ivory.

The former two were handed off to the assistants that flanked them; one was a giant, while the other was a multi-legged monster. The ivory-taped one remained in the hands of the Master, descending point-first towards her throat. She struggled against her bonds, knowing inwardly that resistance was futile.

The needle sank into her neck, releasing its payload into her systems. Pain, white-hot pain, appeared almost instantly, but it mostly centered on her face. She twisted and turned on her slab, trying to fight the changes she could feel, clawing at her restraints –

And for an instant, in her mind's eye, she saw the savage monster she would become.

The dreamer woke from her nightmare with a start, her heartlight flashing and tongue sore from chewing on it so she wouldn't scream. Breathing through flared nostrils, she waited until her mind stopped racing, then released her tongue from her teeth.

It was odd how fast her old nightmares had returned – how forcefully they had come back in the light of recent events. How many centuries had she trembled in their grip, thrashing in her bedclothes, waking in a sweat as she tried not to scream? Too many to count, before they had faded and she had dared hope she was free of them for good. But they had returned with a vengeance, scaring her even more than before.

Life bites, she thought sourly, running her abused tongue over her teeth, making sure they were all in order, but then again, so do I. A smile crossed her face at the thought, but it was grim and self-mocking.

XxX

Kya woke to the feel of morning sunlight on her back, filtering through the trees. For a moment, she lay there confused – why was she not in her home, on her bed? – then remembered the events of yesterday. By now Kalima and her brothers surely must have learned of her involvement; once she left this area, there would be no coming back for a very long time.

She opened her eyes. Bism was wrapped up in his bedroll not far from her, a gloved hand gripping the wicked-looking knife that was mercifully still in its sheath. Kya could never understand why her friend refused to take off his gloves even when he was asleep, but since she admired them quite a bit, being black leather studded with leather pyramids, she rationalized that perhaps he just loved them too much.

A cool hand slipped over the brow of her mask, leaving dewdrops in their wake. Rolling over, the grey-armored Matoran looked up into the misty figure of Shiri, bending protectively over her as her hand passed through her forehead. Her eyes glowed as she looked down at the new bearer of her shell, and while the ghost said nothing, the tribe-less female knew that it was best for them to leave.

When Shiri roused Bism – who woke up instantly, brandishing the knife until he realized that he couldn't kill the Light Toa a second time – he felt the same way. Strapping the blade back onto his belt, he ducked through the trees to where he had picketed his Rahi the night before, even as Kya struck camp. A few moments later, the Po-Matoran came back, leading the pair by the reins and wearing a puzzled look on his face.

"What's up?" his companion asked, finishing her work and slinging her pack over her shoulders. The Spear alone lay untouched; for reasons obvious to her and Shiri (who had been informed about the full details of her fainting spell after she had led Bism out to the road), she wanted all of her things ready before possibly passing out again.

"I could've sworn I saw something while I was going to get Balius and Xanthus, but I found nothing. Ah well," he shrugged, "we better get going. I'll saddle them."

As the Po-Matoran turned away to do his task, Kya bent down and gripped the Spear tightly in her hand, shudders running through her as the strange powers held inside took hold again. Shiri hovered over her in deep concern, ready to place the Spear onto her back if she fainted. It did not come to pass, though, as she opened her eyes again soon after.

"What was it this time?" the Toa of Light's spirit asked quietly.

"A forest," was the reply. "I was running, and when I looked back, I saw people chasing me with weapons drawn. They had skulls mounted on their shoulders, but I don't think the place was anywhere in this area."

Bism looked around curiously from behind Xanthus' flank. "What's up?" he asked, his left eyebrow getting its workout for the morning.

"I'll explain later," the grey-armored Matoran muttered, strapping the Spear to her back as Shiri dissipated.

"I'll hold you to that. Kya," he said in a more serious vein, "I know you've never rode one of my Serohes before, but it's easy once you get on. Balius is a bit more forgiving with amateurs than Xan is, so he'll be your mount.

"Approach him from the right side," he coached as his friend nervously edged towards the grey-armored Serohe, her eyes watching the pair of heavy hooves. Balius snorted, shook his mane, and watched her curiously as, under Bism's tutelage, she placed her right foot in the stirrup, got the other leg over his back, and soon had herself sitting in the saddle, feeling very much out of her depth.

"Please don't be mean to me, Balius," she whispered pleadingly as she leaned forward and worked her fingers into his fine mane.

"Don't worry, Kya," the Po-Matoran said cheerfully, seated upon black Xanthus by now and looking quite natural. "He'll be following Xan's lead, so he won't go charging off with you on top. Let's move out."

As he finished his sentence, Bism gently tapped Xanthus' sides with his boot heels, and with a snort he began moving forward. Thanks to the lead rope tied between their harnesses, Balius followed at a brisk walk, Kya clinging on for dear life and hoping to Mata Nui that she wouldn't fall off or do something equally stupid.

XxX

Once the sounds of their departure had faded from the hearing of even the keenest ears, Rarin emerged from his hiding place in the deeper parts of the forest and made his way to the Crystal Pool. After retrieving his things from the Va-Koro Toa, he had used his visor's ability to track the two Matoran to the location, circling around them so he could observe without being observed. His original intention had been to wait until they had fallen asleep, then sweep in and steal the Spear, but as he had watched and listened to them, suspicions that had taken silent root in his mind during the fight began to grow, strengthening to the point where he stayed his hand until he could relay them to Hecate, just in case.

Pulling out one of the devices his Master had made for him, the Steltian turned it on, dropped it into the clear water, then bowed his head in respect. The Makuta's image crystallized upon the mirror-like surface, peering through the crystal that had once belonged to Makuta Deimos.

"Have you found it?" she asked, not wasting time with pleasantries.

Rarin nodded. "I tracked the signal to the village of Va-Koro, where it was in the hands of a female Matoran. I foolishly tried to take it from her within its walls, and she and an accomplice slipped away while I was detained by the village Toa. They released me after the Psionics Toa read my mind and I fooled her into thinking I was trying to retrieve stolen property from the female." After pausing for breath – Hecate's masked face remained unchanged throughout the narration – the enhanced Steltian continued. "I tracked the pair to a location outside of the Psionics Toa's range. They left about fifteen minutes ago, and I am contacting you from their campsite now."

"You did not take the Spear." It was a statement, not a question, and Rarin shook his head in affirmation.

"Is there a reason why you disobeyed orders?" She sounded more disappointed that angry, and Rarin took heart in that as he asked, "You remember the Project, Master?"

"How could I forget Teridax's blasted Project? But what, pray tell, does that have to do with tracking down the Spear and bringing it to base?"

"I believe the Matoran that carry it were part of it."

XxX

Once her servant finished explaining his reasons, Hecate sank back heavily in her throne-like chair. Of all the possible ways she had envisioned this to go, she would have never through of this, never in a thousand years – though then again, that was around the same amount of time it had been since it had been forcefully ended.

Her original ideas suddenly whirled around in her keen brain, reforming into a new course. If Rarin's hunch was correct, things could end better for her than she thought they would – but it all hinged on one thing – were these Matoran the real thing?

Returning her attention to her servant who was obediently awaiting orders, she stated her intentions. "Make no aggressive motions yet – not until you can confirm their identities. Try utilizing the talents of the common highway scum and place them into a situation that would require them to use their abilities. Report back to me when you have gathered the necessary data."

"Yes, Master," Rarin said, bowing. "But what if they are damaged?"

"If they are who you think they are, not even a battalion will be able to impede them – and if they are who they appear to be, the third one cannot be far away. If your hypothesis is incorrect, though, they will die and you can take the Spear from them."

The Steltian bowed and the connection was severed. Hecate was left alone with her thoughts, clawed hands turning over a black onyx crystal in her hands, mind wandering back to the days when her fortress still stood before the Toa had discovered it and razed it to the ground. She had fled with Rarin and her Visotoran, destroying their notes and carrying the formulas that Teridax had bidden her to make so they couldn't discover what she had been up to. For them to uncover even a small part of the Plan could trigger disaster.

As the former Virus Master of the Brotherhood thought, she remembered the faces of the three subjects that had survived to be her final product, had the attack not happened. And as she remembered, a single sentence colored her words.

Anything I create, I can destroy.

XxX