Battle For Mirazis - Book 2: Rage

by Zarkanofthecyclones

The unfinished, even shittier sequel to Book One, Darkness. Enjoy, Knockout!

"Ah, rage, that incredibly destructive spawn of hatred. Of all the possible ways to bring a world down upon its knees, none is so effective at tearing apart civilizations than inciting mad discord in the hearts of their populations. Whether it be purposeful anger or mindless fury, the rage of any powerful being is a force to be reckoned with, and far more so if it is shared among many. If the fires are continually stoked, if their flames are fed and nourished, then no land shall be safe from their terrible wrath. And when the blaze finally dies down, the few hateful mortals remaining shall have no one but themselves to blame."

Prologue

Unexpected Returns

Far above the land of Mirazis, the great peaks of the Huyaza Mountains were as peaceful as could be. The wind was calm and gentle, the sky was clear and bright, and the birds were singing as they flew through the air. It was tranquility in its essence – and a sight that the mountains had not seen in some time.

Of course, initial appearances could be deceiving, as any experienced traveler would know. Although the mountains were peaceful now, the sights and sounds above and below their rocky masses were not so serene. At the very top of the highest peak, the crumbled ruins of a once mighty fortress tarnished the beautiful appearance of the Huyaza's white tips. And beneath their bases, the lush valleys and serene beaches had forever been damaged by the powers of a great evil, which had escaped its imprisonment and had proceeded to lay waste to the relatively peaceful life of Mirazis' inhabitants.

But then, the beings who lived in this sacred land had figured this out all too quickly, and they had been plunged into a battle for both their home and their lives. They fought against monsters, against beasts, and against exiles that had come back for revenge, believing that they were the sole remaining guardians of a land that had once been ruled by far mightier creatures.

But, what none of the inhabitants of Mirazis knew was that, far above the foothills of the Huyaza Mountains, another great force was awakening – a force that had the strength to radically change the balance of power, and to restore the good that his masters had once upheld.

The scene of this event was a flat, dusty plateau – a place that had no special landmarks or distinguishing features. Except, for the giant red being who was laying on its surface, stirring from a stone cold sleep that a passerby could have mistaken for lifelessness

"What… what happened?" the being asked himself, as he awoke from his slumber. "I'm not supposed to still be in this world… am I?"

Groaning, he sat up and scanned his surroundings. It seemed that he was halfway up the Huyaza Mountains. He could see the Rauga plains far below him. Above him… no, he didn't want to look that way. It was incredibly hard just to glance at the ruins of the once great fortress of the Acolytes. His masters, who he had served faithfully for 10000 years, had protected and nurtured the land of Mirazis, watching over its inhabitants from that mighty structure. But, in a horrible turn of events, they had perished, along with every other living thing in their stronghold.

"And yet, somehow, I survived," the being said. "I was hurled from the fortress before it collapsed – before the power of the Acolytes totally ceased."

He frowned. "And that can't be a coincidence," he continued, "although it seems too illogical to be anything but that. I was not told that this would happen, nor was I given any indication or hint to that outcome. I assumed that I too would perish – not find myself whole and alive on this plateau."

Sighing, he picked himself up and stretched. He felt far weaker than usual, but his strength had already begun to return. Soon, he would be fully healed, and then… what would he do after that?

Inside, he felt a great longing to go up to the fortress. If he had survived, then maybe one of the Acolytes had as well. It would be his duty to help his masters. They could be seriously hurt, or even dying, or….

"No," the being said. "My duty has always been to carry out what my masters wanted. The Zatoran are no doubt facing much trouble, and the Acolyte always put the lives of the population before their own. And so I must do the same."

Yes, the being was certain of his decision. Besides, his reputation was at stake. His name, Mynor, meant strength of heart, and a being with that quality would not let his emotions get the best of his duty. No, that would be the trait of a selfish coward – one who could not accept the hardships of the day without looking out for his comforts first.

"So, it is decided," Mynor said. "I go down to Mirazis, and I help the Zatoran in any way I can." Struggling against his emotions, he slowly looked upwards at the remains of the Acolyte Fortress.

"May I do all that I can to carry out your best wishes, my masters," he said. Saluting the ruins, he proceeded to bow his head in respect. After a moment of silence, he turned away and began walking down the mountainside. His time of sorrow was already over – for it had never really begun, and he was prepared to risk his life to protect the inhabitants of Mirazis. That was the mark of Valor, after all.

Far below the mountaintops, the sun was rising over the Urjad plains. These dry, dusty stretches of dirt and sand stretched many miles across the eastern part of the land of Mirazis, and they were home to a variety of resilient plants and animals. All the life that called the Urjad home had been hardened by the hot days and cold nights that this region experienced through the entire year, and they had learned over many generations where the little water that existed in this area could be found.

"And yet, this is nothing compared to what our little friends faced in the wasteland of Krall," a monstrous-looking being thought, as he and his equally ugly companions traveled across the Urjad plains. His name was Zahkraz – wielder of the force of Power and the leader of a horrific group of scourges known as the Yahzuhk. Ten thousand years ago, they had been locked away by the Acolytes in pitch black prisons known as the Holes of Darkness, and they had only recently escaped their imprisonment. Normal beings would have most certainly gone insane after spending enough time in dungeons like that, but the Yahzuhk had kept their cool and waited patiently for the eventual death of the Acolytes, which they had sensed coming through the power of Darkness.

Smiling, Zahkraz looked over his shoulder and observed the train of small, twisted creatures that followed him. They were known as the Exiled Ones, and they hailed from the desolate desert called Krall. These pitiful-looking beings had once been normal inhabitants of the village of Vorza, but over the many years of their home's history, they had been exiled for various crimes. There, in a nearly lifeless wasteland, they had lived off of dusty brush and dirty water for thousands of years, longing for a chance to escape and reap revenge against their former fellow villagers. And even worse, when they had tried to escape, a huge structure known as the Cursed Wall had struck them with mutative energies, twisting their armor and changing their arms and legs into tails, wings, and other nasty appendages.

This horrible reality had come to the Yahzuhk's attention soon after they had escaped from their own prison, and they had granted the gift of freedom to the inhabitants of Krall in exchange for their loyalty. Now, the Exiled Ones willingly and eagerly followed Zahkraz and his brothers, all in the name of glory and chaos. And chaos they had indeed caused – the citizens of the only village in Mirazis had now been attacked several times by the Yahzuhk and their army, and each time that city had lost villagers to the power of their might. But, despite all the carnage and destruction that had already taken place, they had only just begun to carry out their ultimate plan.

At the moment, however, the red, mantis-shaped Yahzuhk named Tiroz couldn't have cared less about the events that were to come. Being a pure warrior and controlling the rather destructive force of Heat, he had always tended to focus on the violence of the moment, rather than looking ahead at the carnage they could cause in the future. And, as he went over the last battle against the inhabitants of Vorza, he was not especially pleased with the amount of destruction he had caused.

It wasn't that the night hadn't been pleasing To Tiroz – oh no, it had been just as delightful as the first battle they had had against the villagers of Vorza. But that was the problem – despite all the power the Yahzuhk wielded, the inhabitants of the Acolytes' sacred land still held onto their morale, giving a decent challenge in the process. However, that was mainly because of three strange new beings that referred to themselves as the new guardians of Mirazis. According to Zahkraz, these element-wielding beings had been created by the Acolytes to serve as their replacement, long after they had perished for mysterious reasons. They had awoken with little knowledge and a total lack of experience, and yet they had managed to fight bravely against the Yahzuhk and the Exiled Ones.

Then again, perspectives always varied between beings, as any intelligent villain would know. While this surprising turn of events worried Tiroz, it wasn't distressing to the Yahzuhk named Eloh in the least. Huge, crystal-like, and possessing an amazing control of his force of Frost, he had no secret concerns about the guardians of Mirazis. Whether they fought bravely or were cowards, they would still inevitably fall to his might. No, what worried him was that, somehow, they had been getting information about certain mysterious parts of their being, which they had been using to put up a stronger than average defense against his brothers.

This was strange, because the scholar of Vorza had perished in the village's first major battle against the Yahzuhk. Chosen by the Acolytes to study their wisdom, the scholar was usually the only way that the inhabitants of Mirazis were able to find out about the secrets of the land. Yet, somehow, even after he had died, the three guardians had been able to discover the power of the Kanohi – mystical masks that allowed them to become the very element that they wielded. Thanks to that, Eloh now had a rather painful dent in his armor, which had been created when one of the guardians had rammed his elemental form into his chest.

So, whether they were worried about the conflict, worried about the defending beings, or not worrying at all, the three Yahzuhk all had Mirazis on their mind, and it wasn't leaving their thoughts any time soon. Conquering the Acolyte's sacred land was the key to gaining true power in the universe, and it was only a matter of time before its inhabitants fell before them.

"Which brings me to a very important question," Tiroz said, looking rather annoyed. "If the key to power lies in Mirazis, why exactly are we traveling back through the Urjad plains and away from that source of strength?"

Zahkraz smiled. Tiroz had always been loyal to him, but he also had a habit of pointing out supposed "flaws" in the Yahzuhk's ultimate plan whenever something did not make sense to him. "You really needed to pay more attention during the Acolytes' lessons in history all those years ago," Zahkraz said, looking sternly at his fiery brother. "It seems that you have forgotten the necessary elements that it would take to corrupt the souls of beings – namely, all six forces of nature."

Tiroz's mouth dropped in shock for a moment, but quickly reverted to a frown. "Are you insane, Zahkraz? None of us know the location of Gytaz, Masor, or Okmyon, and they sure haven't been calling out to us like you expected them to! Besides, the most logical place to start looking would be the Huyaza Mountains - the same place where the Acolytes locked up just about everyone else that opposed them."

"Ah, it would seem that way, Tiroz," Zahkraz replied. "However, the most obvious answer is rarely the solution. The Acolytes knew that we would be unstoppable if we were to reunite, and they never would have split us into two groups, only to lock us up in the very same location."

"Maybe," Tiroz said. "But even if I'm wrong, why would we be looking here? Out of all the locations in Mirazis, the Urjad plains are the least secure. How would the Acolytes imprison them here?"

Zahkraz shook his head in frustration. "Think, Tiroz. When we first broke free of our dark cells in the Huyaza Mountains, what was the first thing I noticed?"

Tiroz began to think. "Well, you were remarking that the land of Mirazis had changed. You were especially puzzled by the river of tar that was flowing out of the Huyaza mountains, where as I did not understand the significance of…" Then, the red Yahzuhk smiled. "Of course… that would be the perfect location to hide our brothers! What being would think to look under an endless river of black muck? Besides you, of course."

"Indeed," Zahkraz said, as they walked down a particularly steep hill of sand. "And here we are – the River of Tar. The key to restoring the full power of the Yahzuhk." He pointed ahead, and beckoned for the Exiled Ones to follow.

After they had made camp near the bank of the black river, Zahkraz ordered the Exiled Ones to pick up the shovels and buckets that they had stolen from Vorza during their first attack on the village. The villagers grudgingly obeyed, despite having no idea what was about to happen. Most of them trusted the Yahzuhk to a certain degree, and they had been willing to do whatever they asked as long as they had plenty of chances to seek revenge against the inhabitants of Vorza. Besides, they weren't about to argue with beings that could incinerate, freeze, and obliterate their small bodies in seconds.

As the former villagers of Krall gathered the tools, the leader of the Yahzuhk explained his plan to Tiroz and Eloh. "It is very simple," Zahkraz said. "In order to find what we are looking for, we must first ensure that the river of tar does not pose a problem. Eloh, travel up to the cave that is releasing the tar and freeze off the entrance. You will have to keep it closed off for as long as we need - not one single drop of tar can escape from the cave, or our efforts will be futile."

Nodding his head, Eloh lumbered off towards the base of the Huyaza mountains. The tar was flowing far faster at the entrance to the cave than anywhere else on the river, and the black mass gurgled out of the mountain almost like a normal river of water. Eloh approached the river cautiously, and carefully dipped his claws into the tar. Summoning his power over frost, the white Yahzuhk had frozen off the entrance in mere seconds, and the Tar River slowly started to dissipate.

Now the hard part began. The tar within the cave was already struggling against the wall of ice that Eloh had created over the entrance. He knew that he would have to keep his power constantly pouring frost into the tar, no matter how long it took for his brothers to find the other Yahzuhk.

"He won't be able to keep the entrance sealed forever, you know," Tiroz remarked, as he watched his brother fight against the force of the river of tar.

"I know. That is why we must hurry," Zahkraz replied. He turned towards the Exiled Ones, who had haphazardly assembled behind him. " Worthy Ones, listen closely," Zahkraz said, invoking the nickname he had given the former villagers of Krall. "As soon as the river of Tar has retreated, begin digging into the sand below it. Do not question us, or stop for breaks – just dig as fast as you can until you find something other than sand."

The Exiled Ones stared at Zahkraz blankly, wondering among themselves if their "great" leader had grown a second head. Since when had they become day laborers and slaves under the Yahzuhk's rule? It was going against all they had been told by their liberators, and they were beginning to wonder if their promise of ruling Mirazis was a shallow lie.

A red double-tailed Exiled One named Gasko frowned. "You're asking us to dig in that?!" he exclaimed. "Even when the river retreats, the tar will still be thoroughly mixed into the ground. It'll be like digging in quicksand! Do you want us to kill ourselves?!"

Zahkraz smiled. "Of course not, little Zatoran. However, I can say with assurance that you may be jumping to conclusions rather soon. Watch and learn." He pointed to the river of tar, which was quickly disappearing from sight.

The Exiled Ones stared at the river awkwardly, wondering what Zahkraz had meant. Then, to their shock, the tar completely vanished from sight – leaving pure white sand underneath.

Gakso's jaw dropped, and he starred stupidly at the empty riverbed for a moment. Then, without warning, he turned to his fellow villagers.

"Well, what are you waiting for, koborks?" he shouted, cursing them with a rather rude name. "Let's get to work!"

Ignoring the insult, the Exiled Ones rushed towards the riverbed and began digging into the sand, sending dust everywhere. Their methods were crude and disorganized, but despite that they were quickly making a huge hole in the bottom of the river.

"Hm, I suppose this may not take as long as I thought," Tiroz said, as he watched the Exiled Ones with glee. "For a scraggly bunch of rusty lowlifes, they sure can work fast."

"You seem to be underestimating our followers, my brother," Zahkraz remarked. "They have rage in their hearts, and rage will propel a being to almost unmatched levels of strength and endurance."

He smiled. "Yes, rage carries great power indeed. And, once we awaken our brothers and fully reunite the Yahzuhk, the heroes of Vorza shall soon feel the sting of that great force within their own numbers. Luha, Ebsmod, and Jorvak will soon know what it feels like to experience division of the soul, and the strife and discord that will follow shall be their ultimate undoing."

Tiroz cackled intensely. "In other words, they'll be tearing each other apart," he said gleefully. "They'll be doing our work for us, and giving us the keys to Mirazis in the process. Oh, what a wonderful irony that will be."

Chapter One

Power's Ally

Once a place of relative peace and refuge, the great field of grass known as Rauga Valley had seen far better days in its history of 10,000 years. The foliage that covered its plains was once bright and beautiful, and the creatures known as Rahi had long used it as a place of refuge. This, sadly, had all changed once the Yahzuhk had awakened the horde of monsters known as the Mashraka. Large sections of the vegetation had been turned into dry, lifeless husks, and most of the Rahi had been chased away by the mere presence of those monstrous beasts. Only the elemental forms of the three guardians of Mirazis had been able to destroy the Mashraka, and in the process the valley of Rauga had lost much of its peaceful nature and life.

As much as they tried to forget the horrors of the horde, the inhabitants of the village of Vorza could only help but recall that terrible menace. The Zatoran, as they had been called for all of recorded history, had spent much of their life maintaining the Acolyte's sacred village, expanding it and repairing it whenever it was necessary. The Mashraka had posed as one of the greatest challenges to their work ethic, as they had done much damage to the northern edge of the village. The Zatoran had been repairing the village for a week now, and their second battle with the Yahzuhk and the Exiled Ones had delayed their efforts. Fortunately, that fight had not taken place near the village, but Vorza's inhabitants still had much work to do before their home was fully repaired.

And after all our work, Zahkraz and his wretched brothers will probably just undo everything in another attack, a Zatoran named Vieta thought, as she entered the building that served as the headquarters of Vorza's defensive army. Tall, blue armored, and possessing four arms, she was easily one of the strongest and most combat-ready of all the Zatoran. This, of course, was one of the reasons why she was the commander of the defense force, and why she was heading towards her office to prepare for the inevitable future attacks from the Yahzuhk and the Exiled Ones.

Sighing, she entered a small side room and reluctantly sat down at her desk. If this had been just a normal day at work, this simple action wouldn't have been so hard for her to accomplish. But just a couple days ago, she had witnessed the previous commander succumb to a strange, fire-laden rage, which had driven him insane and caused him to run away from the second battle against the Yahzuhk. Olan, who had also been one of her close friends, had disappeared after that, and she felt uncomfortable sitting where he had worked just days ago.

Besides, Vieta also felt guilty about what had happened. Olan had only been put in charge because she had been severely injured during the very first encounter with all three Yahzuhk, and it had quickly become apparent to many around him that he had grown rather unstable. She truly wished she had awoken from her pain-induced coma sooner, and she felt bad that she had not spent more time talking to him after she finally did.

But instead, she had chosen to focus her efforts on trying to reclaim one of the Exiled Ones to the good side. Ska, a bitter and anger-filled anarchist, had been the one who had put her out of commission. It had been a sort of payback for her actions several hundred years ago – actions that had exposed him as a traitor to Mirazis and earned him a lifetime of exile to the wasteland of Krall. After he had succeeded in carrying out his revenge, he had been locked away in a guard house, where Vieta had tried to get him to admit his wrongdoing. Strangely, the meetings with Ska had had the opposite effect, as she had ended up apologizing to him for her self-centered motives. After that, Ska had apparently changed, and had even helped fight against the Mashraka.

But, it had all been a fraud, and Ska eventually exposed his deception during the second battle against the Yahzuhk. He perished that very night, leaving Vieta with the belief that she had wasted so much effort for nothing. Deep inside, Vieta knew that it hadn't been her fault, but she couldn't help but feel guilty for falling for Ska's trickery.

As she dwelled on these thoughts, Vieta was interrupted by the sound of crashing furniture. Looking up, she saw that a guard had burst into her office, knocking over a table with a potted plant in the process.

"Oh come on, Majaro, I just put that there!" Vieta shouted at the guard. "That was a special gift that Pamu the gardener gave to me, and now you've gone and broken it!"

Majaro looked at Vieta nervously, and he began to back out of the hut. "I'm, uh, sorry, mistress Vieta, I, uh, won't it, uh, again," He stammered.

Vieta looked at the guard for a moment, and then slapped her head in disgust with herself. What am I doing? she thought. I haven't been back on my job for five minutes and I've already acted like an arrogant fool! She stood up and went over to Majaro. "It's okay, nothing to worry about. What is it that you came for?"

Slowly, Majaro straightened his posture and saluted her. "Mistress Vieta, the Toa wish to speak with you. May I grant them entrance to the Defense HQ?"

Vieta frowned. "Oh, you don't have to make them go through all the special procedures, Majaro," she said. Noticing that the guard was beginning to look nervous again, she continued. "But it's nothing to fret over. Go get them."

Saluting her again, Majaro quickly left the guard hut, nearly stumbling over the table he had knocked over in the process.

Vieta smiled. Being the newest recruit to the defense force, Majaro was concerned about making a good first impression. As a former assistant to the chief mechanic of Vorza, Majaro had always taken orders, but taking on a new boss had made him especially shaky around higher ranking officers, her, and even the three guardians of Mirazis. It didn't bother Vieta though. Majaro had shown impressive bravery during the battle against the Mashraka, even going so far as to throw himself in front of another Zatoran and protecting him from harm. Vieta was certain that he would be an excellent guard during the increasingly dangerous conditions in Mirazis. It would just take a little time for him to get used to his new job.

At that moment, the guardians of Mirazis walked in. There was concern on all three of their faces, and especially on the blue-armored guardian named Luha. Something was bothering them, and Vieta knew from experience that whenever that happened, they usually had a good reason.

"Good morning, Toa," Vieta said, referring to the name that they had recently given their team. "I hope you had a good night's sleep after our little battle at the Cleansing Waters."

Luha, who was a Toa of the water-like element of Protodermis, smiled. "Vieta, it's okay," she said comfortingly, channeling the often peaceful nature of her power. "You don't have to hide your nervousness. We're not expecting you to recover your confidence so quickly, especially after all that had happened."

The green-armored guardian named Jorvak chuckled. Not unlike his element of Storms, he often was rather sharp in his comments, and today was no exception. "Yeah, otherwise I'd start worrying about you, Vieta," he said. "Sudden changes around here always seem to bring trouble." When Luha looked at him angrily, he added "Just a joke, of course."

Vieta nodded. "Okay, sorry," she said. "I'm just all uncomfortable about this. I haven't been the leader of the Defense since the first attack on the village, and, well… I really messed up that time."

"It's not your fault," Luha insisted. "No one can blame you for defending yourself against Ska instead of– it was because of him that you couldn't continue to fight, and him alone."

"Yes, I know," Vieta said, "but it still is unsettling. Anyway, what did you want to talk about?"

The black-armored guardian named Ebsmod stepped forward. Being a Toa of the slow moving element of Tar, he often was the last of the three guardians to respond, but whenever he did speak, he always had something good to say. "We are concerned about the pressure you're putting on the Zatoran to join the defense force," he told Vieta. "I know that these are desperate times, and drafting more guards will help keep this village safer – but in the process you're increasing the work load of many of the other villagers."

"Poor Mokar's been struggling to keep up with making enough food for Vorza since you promoted his cooking assistant to the east side guard," Jorvak added.

Vieta sighed. "Yes, I knew you were going to mention that," she replied. "That's why I'm preparing to enact a new strategy in Vorza that will benefit all of us."

"What do you have in mind?" Luha asked.

"As you know, the old way of doing things here has been to assign Zatoran to specific jobs, based on what their strengths and weaknesses are," Vieta explained. "With this new act, I'm doing away with all of that. Now everyone will have to aid with cooking, with repairing the village, and with any other jobs that don't require trained apprenticeship. The current workers in these fields will still lead in their jobs, but now all the other Zatoran will be pitching in as well. It doesn't take skill to peel a few Magu potatoes or to nail boards together, and if everyone helps these jobs will not take nearly as much time."

Luha smiled again. "That is an excellent idea, Vieta," she said. "This new strategy will no doubt aid the village, and my brothers and I will be ready to help in any way we can."

"No, I didn't mean that you had to help as well…" Vieta began, but she was cut off by the sudden arrival of the guard named Lamaru. Or at least, it seemed sudden, but in reality the red, four-legged guard had been standing behind the Toa for several minutes. Urgency had never been part of Lamaru's vocabulary, and she was known for being as patient as she was calm in battle.

"Lamaru, you can speak now," Vieta said, rolling her eyes.

Lamaru nodded. "Valmoa has returned from following the Yahzuhk and Exiled Ones," she said. "He had reported that they are heading towards the River of Tar, although for what reasons he isn't sure."

Vieta frowned. The Yahzuhk had made it clear from the start that their goal was to conquer Mirazis, starting with the village of Vorza. Why they would be heading back towards Krall was a mystery to her, and she could think of no plausible explanation.

"Send him back," Vieta ordered. "Tell him to keep an eye out on the Yahzuhk, and have him report only if something major happens."

"As you wish," Lamaru said. "But, if I may ask, what constitutes major in your eyes?"

"Anything that doesn't involve them sitting around doing nothing," Vieta answered. After Lamaru left, she turned back to the Toa. "As I was saying…" she began.

"You were saying what?" Jorvak asked.

Vieta started to reply, but something inside made her decide against it. "Nothing, Toa. Thanks for talking with me."

The Toa nodded, and walked out of the Guard hut. "Just tell us if you need anything!" Luha called out from behind her back.

Vieta smiled and shook her head. She had originally been hesitant to letting the Toa help them with common tasks, thinking that it would be disrespectful to put Vorza's great heroes in such a position. But, if the Toa really wanted to aid them in their daily work, then there was nothing really to do but let them.

"Sometimes, it really amazes me how helpful these beings can be," Vieta said to herself. "If only there was more of their kind in Mirazis."

The Exiled Ones were not happy. They had been digging out the bottom of the river of Tar for hours, and they had made a 20 foot wide hole deep enough to hold the largest hut in Vorza. However, despite all their work, they had found absolutely nothing of interest, and Gakso's temper was becoming increasingly short. And it had already taken so much effort to get to this point – their small, mutated bodies were hardly suited for physical labor, and some of the winged ones had been forced to pick up sand with their tiny hands rather than the shovels that they could not hold.

This didn't matter to Gakso, however. As one of the leading Exiled Ones, he had delegated himself to the relatively easy position of overseer. And to a being that had spent much of his life in Krall beating up weaker creatures, overseer was a synonym for slave driver.

"Get off your lazy behinds and keep working!" Gakso screamed, slapping several tired Exiled Ones in the process.

"Lazy? LAZY?!" a double-tailed Exiled One named Nurig exclaimed. "You are the only one here who hasn't done any digging work at all, kobork! Don't you talk to us about being lazy!"

Gakso scowled, and began to approach Nurig angrily. "Listen here you worthless piece of smaturg!" he retorted. "I don't give a dewhopper's care about…"

Before he could finish the sentence, however, Gakso realized that all the other Exiled Ones had gathered behind Nurig, and were glaring at him intensely. This was unusual – the Exiled Ones rarely agreed with anything Nurig said, and he had spent much of his life in Krall fighting and losing against them. Regardless, Gakso saw that he was outnumbered, and wasn't about to get himself beaten up. Sighing, he walked over to the edge of the sand pit and picked up a shovel.

"Well, that was a quick decision," Nurig jeered. "Can't bear to stand up against a whole crowd of workers can you? I bet with all your "experience," you'll do about as well as Bizor."

Ignoring Nurig's insult, Gakso began to dig a random spot in the excavation site. Before he had picked up five shovelfuls of sand, his tool clanked loudly on a metal object, sending a huge vibration through the riverbed. Quickly, the hole began to shake and swerve, and a huge structure began to rise up out of the riverbed.

When the dust cleared, Gakso was standing in front of a giant metal door with three circular lock-like devices on the front. It was decorated with a scribble-like pattern, which crossed through the locks and over to the back of the door, connecting into a single small orb with the symbol for pure evil written on it.

"Excellent work, Gakso," Zahkraz said, as he and Tiroz stepped into the sand pit. The other Exiled Ones stared at Gakso in envy – especially Nurig. Gakso ignored their jealous looks, and smiled at the Yahzuhk happily.

Nodding his head, Zahkraz approached the doorway. "It seems that I was right about this river," he remarked. "This door is the key to releasing our brothers from their imprisonment, and the Acolytes knew better than to leave it out in the open."

"Now what?" Tiroz asked. "I was never good at puzzles, but even this one is easy enough for me to figure out. Obviously, we must channel each of our powers into one of the locks, which will open the door. Problem is, it will be impossible to bring Eloh down here without releasing the Tar river in the process."

"On the surface it would seem to be that way," Zahkraz replied. "However, there is rarely just one solution to a problem, and in this case, finding another way is all part of the challenge."

Holding out his hands, Zahkraz sent two beams of pure power into the lower two locks. Then, his eyes glowed, and a third beam of power streamed from them into the final lock. Slowly, the door began to glow and change color. It cycled from red to orange, from orange to yellow, and so on up the color wheel, until it stopped at a light shade of turquoise that seemed very familiar to Tiroz. Finally, the entire front of the door shifted, turning into a purple and black spiral that was constantly turning.

Gakso's mouth dropped. "Wha…what?" he stuttered. "How did you just do that?"

Zahkraz smiled, and retracted his powers. "Ah, your endless curiosity never ceases to amuse me," he said. "But to answer your question - though not as specialized as the others natural forces, Power has other, more practical purposes. Its energies are so pure and raw that it can mimic the energy wavelengths of the other forces, if not necessarily their actual qualities."

He turned back to the door. "But, it is time we move onto more important matters. I now know why I was unable to sense our brothers, Tiroz. They have not simply been imprisoned – they have been locked away in a pocket dimension that is inaccessible from any location other than this doorway. Even I could not extend my energy that far."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Tiroz said, grinning. "We have a whole universe to conquer!" Together, he and Zahkraz entered the swirling portal. As soon as they touched the gateway, they disappeared into its blackness. Gakso quickly followed the Yahzuhk inside, eager to witness the other beings that they had talked about.

Within the portal, the Yahzuhk and Gakso found themselves in a long, black corridor that resembled something out of a nightmare. Twisted, ugly thorns grew along both sides and the ceiling, and their razor sharp points gleamed like stars in the night. What was really strange was that they almost seemed to be calling out to Gakso, begging him to come and touch their edges. He found it hard to resist their mental pull, and he began to head towards the closest thorn.

"Careful now, Gakso," Zahkraz said, holding him back. "You don't want to touch those plants. They are dimension weed, a foul type of vegetation that scatters a being's atoms across multiple parallel universes with a single touch."

"Yes, we wouldn't want to be finding part of your foot fused to Huyaza Peak, or half of your mask floating in a land where the Acolytes are peaceful sages and the Zatoran are mighty titans," Tiroz added. "Best keep a firm hand on us until we get to the end."

Nodding weakly, Gakso grasped Zahkraz's arm and walked between him and Tiroz. Carefully, they made their way through the corridor, which somehow was just wide enough for them to walk across without touching the dimension weed. As they neared the end, they suddenly stepped through an invisible portal.

On the other side, they found themselves in a stone cave, which unknown to Gakso looked exactly like the one that Zahkraz, Tiroz, and Eloh had escaped from. On the back wall of the cave were three elegant doors that glowed with energy.

"Hmm, on second though, maybe I was not completely right about our brothers' location," Zahkraz said. He looked around puzzlingly for a moment, but then shook his head. "No need to worry about this right now. Let us free them, Tiroz."

"I was waiting for you to say that," Tiroz replied. The red Yahzuhk began to glow, and his power concentrated into a gigantic ball of flame. In a flash, he released the fire, and it slammed into one of the energy-laced doors and smashed it into dust. At the same time, Zahkraz released his power into the other two gates, shattering them as well.

When the dust cleared, three caves appeared where the stones had just been seconds ago. From within the caves, Gakso could hear deep, ragged voices. After a few seconds, three beings stepped out of the caves, and rubbed their eyes to adjust to the light. One of them was black, short, and was covered in smooth armor. Another was blue, pointed, and looked something like an underwater plant. And the third… the third was a hulking green monster, with spikes on all his armor and a face that was wide and ferocious.

"About time, Zahkraz," the black being said, blinking. "Ever since we sensed the fall of the Acolytes, we've been waiting for you to free us."

"And you're LATE!" the green being shouted. "I'm being going crazy waiting for you to come and get me out of this dark slimehole! Okmyon may have patience, but I certainly do not!"

"As if you already weren't crazy enough," Tiroz replied, shaking his head. "I can't imagine what you were doing while you were still locked up in there…."

The blue being, whose name was Masor, said nothing. Through all the Yahzuhk's history, he had generally been one of the quietest of the beings - and unlike Eloh, he did not care to show his thoughts through his expressions. None of the other Yahzuhk knew why Masor was this way, although some of them certainly had their suspicions, but it hadn't stopped him from being one of the most lethal masters of fighting and power-wielding in their brotherhood.

"Well, looks like all those boring centuries in that cave haven't made Masor any more lively," Okmyon said, grinning. "Still lost in your own little world, aren't you water-ears?

"I don't share your sense of humor, Okmyon," Masor replied coldly. "Nor do I care about petty conversation when we have a world to take over. Isn't that our goal, or are we just going to stand around here and chat for a few days?"

"That most certainly will not be necessary," Zahkraz replied. "Masor is right – we have already spent far too much time in this cave. Let us leave this dreadful place, my brothers – we have work to do."

"Hold on a second!" Gytaz yelled, noticing Gakso for the first time. "Who is that little muzaka behind Zahkraz?"

Zahkraz smiled. "Merely a friend, Gytaz," he said. "He is no danger to us. Come on now – and listen carefully. I have much to tell you about the new Mirazis."

Chapter Two

The Foreboding Darkness

Gritting his teeth, Jorvak ducked as a ball of tar summoned by Ebsmod whooshed towards his head. The sticky blob grazed the top of his mask as he dove to the ground and executed a summersault. Charging his elemental sub-power of lightning, he unleashed a hail of electric darts at his foe. Ebsmod held up his axe and easily deflected the projectiles – except that one managed to slip past him and slam into his chest. He reeled from the attack, which despite its small size was fairly potent. Looking ahead, Ebsmod barely had time to dodge Jorvak's sickle, which the Toa of Storms was attempting to run through his throat.

Clanking his axe against his foe's weapon, Ebsmod began to create a puddle of tar underneath Jorvak's feet. The green Toa slipped and fell to the ground, and Ebsmod prepared to slam his axe into Jorvak's armor. Before he could make a finishing blow, however, Jorvak pulled back his arm and threw his sickle straight towards Ebsmod's neck! The weapon flew through the air like a boomerang, slammed into the black Toa's throat – and fell harmlessly to the ground.

Frowning, Jorvak picked himself up and reached for his sickle. "Ebsmod!" he exclaimed, "What was that all about? In all the days we've been training here, you've never fallen for a move like that!"

Ebsmod closed his eyes, rubbing his neck. "I don't know," he replied. Realizing that he was lying, he corrected himself. "No… actually, I do. I'm just distracted right now."

Shaking his head, Jorvak bent down and picked up his sickle by the blade. "Well, it's a good thing that we're only practicing with wooden replicas of our weapons now," Jorvak remarked. "Luha was right – it's way too dangerous to be mock fighting with real ones. If this had been my real sickle…"

"I wonder..." Ebsmod mumbled, lost in deep thought.

Jorvak looked up. "Come again?" he asked.

"Oh, I was just thinking about what Miro said to us," Ebsmod replied, recalling the former scholar of Vorza. "Back when he first explained the elements and forces of nature to us, he mentioned that there were six of each."

"So?" Jorvak said. "Look, if you're saying that there should be six Toa and not three, we've already established that. It's obviously going to take some time for the other three to come, that's all."

"No, no… I wasn't thinking about them," Ebsmod replied. "I was thinking about the forces of nature."

"Wait," Jorvak said. "Are you inferring that there's three more Yahzuhk out there as well?"

"In a word, yes," Ebsmod replied. "I'm very worried that we soon may have an even more difficult situation on our hands."

Jorvak frowned. "That doesn't make sense," he insisted. "If the Yahzuhk really do have three missing members, then Zahkraz's first action would have been to find them and release them. There would be no sense in attacking us until the Yahzuhk were at full strength, especially since we had no idea they even existed. Why would they attempt to conquer such a huge land with only half their brotherhood?"

He smiled and slapped Ebsmod on the back. "Don't worry about it," he said. "If three other Yahzuhk existed, I'm sure that we would have encountered them by now. Anyway, we should get back to the village now. Come on!"

Motioning for his brother to follow, Jorvak began running back to the village of Vorza. Ebsmod followed silently, but in his mind he was still focused on the theory he had developed. Jorvak was not worried, and part of Ebsmod's thoughts told him that he shouldn't be either. But… there was still a lingering feeling of dread within his heart, and he couldn't help but tremble for Mirazis' future.

I'm relieved to see that you're not letting fear take control of your actions, Jorvak, Ebsmod thought. I only wish that I could share in your confidence.

Zahkraz and Gakso traveled through the Urjad plains, heading southwest of the Tar River. Night had fallen on Mirazis once again, and the stars were shining brightly in the sky. In fact, the stars were the very reason why they were traveling towards the rock spires in the middle of the desert. Zahkraz had explained that the night sky contained information that would help them conquer Mirazis, but he had not said why they needed to go so far away from camp. Gakso assumed that the spires concealed yet another secret from Mirazis' past – perhaps a whole observatory was hidden there!

After reaching the spires, Zahkraz headed to the tallest one and began climbing to the top, carrying Gakso on his back. The climb was long and hard even for the leader of the Yahzuhk, and several times he slipped and nearly fell off. But, the danger of the spire was no match for Zahkraz's skill, and soon he and Gakso were standing on the smooth top of the rock.

"Now what?" Gakso asked Zahkraz. "There's got to be a reason why you brought us this far out here!"

Zahkraz smiled. "If you were expecting another secret, Gakso, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. This spot simply is good for gazing at the stars, that's all – there is no ancient shrine or hidden cavern to be found this time."

Gakso sighed, and lowered his head in disappointment. Ever since the Yahzuhk had arrived, his life had been chock full of excitement. But this… this was nothing new at all. The Exiled Ones had been looking at the sky for thousands of years in Krall, and Gasko had hoped that they would not have to be reminded of their life in that wasteland any further.

"Something is bothering you, isn't it?" Zahkraz remarked, as he looked upwards towards the vast horizon of space.

"Not really," Gakso lied. "It's just… this was pretty much all we did back while I and my fellow villagers were stuck in Krall. We've come to resent the night sky, for it reminds us too much of the Acolytes."

"I understand," Zahkraz said. "However, while the stars may be symbols of the Acolytes' power, they also can be very helpful to those who are against them." He pointed upwards. "Look at that constellation to the south – the one in the shape of a Kanohi."

Gakso squinted, trying to look for any pattern in the arrangement of the particular group that Zahkraz had pointed to. "Nothing much. The stars are pretty random and… wait. Why is that red star glowing so strangely?"

"That is a very good question," Zahkraz answered. "And there is also a very simple answer to it." He sighed. "You… have no doubt realized by now that the three beings who call themselves the 'new guardians of Mirazis' are in fact telling the truth. They are the Acolyte's replacements, created by the former rulers of this land to continue their tyrannical rule."

Gakso frowned. "Yeah, I kind of guessed that after I saw how protective they were of the Zatoran," he said. "But what does that have to do with anything?"

Zahkraz smiled. "The answer may surprise you, Gakso," he replied. You see, the Acolyte's original plan called for six guardians to be created, not three. Had their efforts completely succeeded, there would now be guardians with the elements of Lava, Acid, and Crystal, as well as the three elements that Luha, Ebsmod, and Jorvak wield."

Gakso's eyes widened. "But… how is that possible?" he asked. "If that was their intention, why don't those other three 'heroes' exist?"

"Another good question, Gakso," Zahkraz replied. "And once again, the answer is very simple. As far as I know, the power that created the Acolyte's successors came from the fortress on top of the tallest Huyaza Mountain. The fortress crumbled and released two beams of creation energy into the sky – beams that were designed to charge the clouds with the power that would create the new 'guardians' of Mirazis."

He closed his eyes. "But then, something went wrong. Only one of the beams of energy flew into the clouds. The other soared high into space and dissipated, creating the illusion of a red star up in the night sky."

Gakso nodded. Although he didn't know how Zahkraz had gotten all this information, everything he had said seemed to make sense. "I get it," he answered. "But wait… that red star is really small right now. Does that mean that…"

"It means that we have very little time before the opportunity of a lifetime is wasted," Zahkraz said. "That is why the other Yahzuhk are not with us tonight. Tiroz and Eloh are collecting a few necessary ingredients for our plan, and Masor is scouting out the perfect location to summon the Acolytes' creation beam."

Gakso's jaw dropped. Was Zahkraz saying what he thought he was saying? "You… you want the other three heroes to be created?!" he exclaimed. "But why?"

Zahkraz smiled. "Trust me on this, my dear Gakso," he replied. "The other three heroes are essential to our plan. Without their creation, we may never be able to achieve what we came here for."

Slowly, Gakso's eyes calmed down. "Okay," he said quietly. "I don't know what this great plan of yours is, and I don't even know if I trust you, but I guess I don't really have a choice. You are our leaders, and I…."

Suddenly, a thought came to his head. "Wait - what about Okmyon and Gytaz?" he asked. "What are they doing to help accomplish this plan?"

Zahkraz bared his teeth. "Oh, they're doing what they do best," he said. "Causing… a distraction. And by distraction, I mean striking fear into the Zatoran's hearts."

Okmyon slowly headed down Rauga cliff, watching his every footstep and grasping stones in calculated, precise maneuvers. His experience with the force of Tremors had given him much experience with rocks, and it also gave him a further understanding of the ultimate untamed elemental force of Land than any of the other Yahzuhk.

As he climbed down, he looked over his shoulders at the village of Vorza. The "sacred" creation of the Acolytes had not changed much in the 10,000 years that he had been imprisoned, which surprised the black Yahzuhk. Logically, a period that long would have brought countless changes to the land and everything in it, but aside from several new landmarks, Mirazis was not nearly as different as Zahkraz had claimed. Perhaps the leader of the Yahzuhk had detected a great variation within the energy signatures of the universe, or perhaps it was purely an emotional difference. Okmyon was deeply curious, and he decided that he would ask Zahkraz about it after he returned.

Gytaz couldn't have cared less. He had already made it to the bottom of the cliff long before Okmyon had even reached the halfway point of his climb, and his impatience was growing with every minute. It wasn't his fault that Okmyon didn't have wings – the black Yahzuhk was still going too slow! Angrily, he shattered a few boulders with the corrupting power of his Poison, and he banged his spiked club on the ground.

"What is taking so long?!" Gytaz shouted impatiently.

"Climbing is a careful art, Gytaz," Okmyon replied from above. "You're lucky you have those wings of yours to fly upon – otherwise you'd have to go down the exact same way I am. Who wants to bet that your impatience would send you plummeting into the bottom of the valley?"

"Do you really think I care about art?" Gytaz shot back. "I'm a simple being – destruction first, thinking later. You and the other Yahzuhk may think I'm just a dumb brute - and maybe I am, but I'm still just as powerful as all of you!"

"Strength is nothing without strategy," Okmyon replied. "Not that you would know anything about the latter."

Gytaz frowned. "Says you, and I've never listened to you. We all can't be thinkers, otherwise nothing would ever get done."

"True, true," Okmyon remarked. "That doesn't mean that I respect you, though. Oh sure, I tolerate you, and sometimes even accept you as who you are. But respect…that is a whole different matter."

"You'll respect me when you see how brawn is really the ultimate force," Gytaz insisted. "I bet someday, someone is going to come here and conquer all of you with nothing but mindless strength, and I'll be the only one who can save your skins."

Okmyon laughed. "Ha! As if you could predict the future," he said. "Even if a being were to have the power of all the Acolytes combined, without brains he would be nothing but a minor obstacle to overcome. But, I do give you props for actually thinking ahead for once, Gytaz."

The black Yahzuhk was now only 20 Fios, or body lengths, from the ground. Smiling, he let go of the cliff and dove towards the ground. Seconds before crashing headfirst into the dirt, he twisted his body and landed on his feet. The force of the impact caused a shockwave that ripped up the land hundreds of Fios ahead, and Gytaz barely had a chance to fly off before the wave of rock and dirt smashed into where he had been standing. Brushing the dust off his armor, Okmyon looked up at his brother.

"I've been waiting to do that for a hundred centuries," Okmyon said happily. "It's much more exciting than cracking a few boulders with poison, don't you think?" Before Gytaz could reply, he continued. "I think you need a real test of your powers, brother. What's say we go and terrorize Vorza, huh spiky head?"

Gytaz grinned. "It's about time you mentioned destruction, Okmyon," he said. "How about a deal - - the first one to the village gets to chose the first living target. Let's see if your Tremors can win a race against my wings."

"Oh, we'll see alright," Okmyon replied. Summoning his power, he opened up the dirt beneath his feet and disappeared underground, rapidly digging a tunnel straight towards Vorza. Gytaz quickly followed above ground, gliding on his wings over the rubble that Okmyon was creating.

"Heh, no matter who wins, the Zatoran lose," Gytaz said to himself. "I like this kind of race."

Chapter Three

Revelations and Realizations

At the southern edge of Vorza, business was as usual. The light of the early dawn had finally reached the southernmost guard towers, and the villagers had begun to awake and return to their jobs. They were anxious as usual, for their part of the town was facing Rauga cliff, where they knew the Yahzuhk and Exiled Ones had once camped.

In the defense force's point of view, however, this area of the village had become rather dull in the last week. The last two major battles they had fought had been north of their section, and the guards stationed on the southern edge were finding the lack of action to be a complete bore. It wasn't that they actually wanted the Yahzuhk to attack this part of the village again – it was just that battle was rather exciting compared to the usual bore of watch tower duty.

This did not bother the blue, three-legged guard named Unar one bit, though. Unlike many of the other members of the defense force, Unar considered guard duty a welcome part of the day. He wasn't nervous like some of the newer guards, nor was he constantly darting his eyes back and forth like they had dust in them. His experience as Vieta's second in command had given him the ability to multitask – to the point that he could carefully watch the plains and drift off into other thoughts without either one of the actions suffering any neglect.

Today, he was considering new battle strategies that he and Lamaru had been discussing the previous day. As he scanned the horizon for any signs of trouble, various scenarios played out in his head. He analyzed the imaginary battles carefully, searching for any flaws in the tactics, and he started over as soon as he spotted a major hole in either the offensive or the defensive strategy.

As he thought about one particularly aggressive battle, something strange caught his eye. In the distance, dust was being kicked up rapidly, as if a herd of Ulanu bulls was stampeding from Rauga Cliff. This was unusual – Ulanu rarely ever grazed on the southern grass fields, as their natural enemies the Morog bears lived there. However, the bears were currently heading the caves for hibernation, and Unar was not alarmed – until he noticed the figure flying above the dust cloud.

Grabbing and holding up a special instrument shaped like a sectioned cone with a crank, Unar looked through the device at the figure. He turned the crank, and the lens at the front of the device extended. As soon as he got a good look at the flying being, Unar rushed over and picked up a large, orange shell laying on the ground. He blew through the shell, and a deep, piercing wail echoed through Vorza.

"Prepare for attack! All personal head to the southern entrance!" Unar shouted, yelling through the shell. Quickly, guards began pouring out of the two southernmost huts, grabbing weapons and lining up in a defensive position.

"What is that?" a guard named Kitao shouted, staring in surprise at the dust cloud rapidly approaching.

"No, what is that?" a guard named Waguna exclaimed, pointing at the winged figure Unar had first spotted.

"Trouble, that's what," Unar replied to both of the guards, bracing for attack. "Hold your positions and – LOOK OUT!"

All the guards looked ahead in horror, as they realized that the dust cloud was actually dirt being kicked up by a massive shockwave heading straight towards Vorza! Scrambling out of their positions, the guards ran for cover, barely managing to escape as the shockwave slammed into the guard towers and barracks, breaking them into pieces. When the dust cleared, a sinister black figure stepped out from a great hole in the ground. Or rather, he exploded out of the hole, riding a pillar of rock fragments kicked up by another shockwave.

The figure looked around at the shocked guards, smiling. He was short and bulky, covered with smooth, angled plates. His head was small and square-like, and the armor covering it partly concealed two eyes and a curved row of teeth. On his back, two gun-shaped devices were attached to a sling wrapped around his shoulders, shining brightly in the glare of the morning sun

"So, it seems that the quaking of Tremors has conquered the corrosive touch of Acid, Gytaz," the black being said. "Exactly what I predicted."

A second, massive figure approached, baring a huge maw of long teeth. His club angrily shook in his grip, and his blood red eyes were locked in a glare. "Fine. So you get the first target," he said to the black figure. "That leaves plenty more for me to tear apart."

"You'll be tearing no one apart, monster!" someone shouted from the darkness. The black figure turned his head, looking into the village for the source of the brave retort. Two blue figures stepped forward, holding weapons in their hands. One was tall and held a pike-like weapon, and the other was a four armed Zatoran.

"Vieta is right," the tall figure said, grasping her pike tightly. "You are not touching a single villager while I, Luha, am still standing!"

The black figure laughed. "Ah, so you must be the being that Zahkraz told me about. You have spunk – I like that. It makes beings more prone to fatal mistakes."

Luha held her stance. "I am no longer just a being," she shouted. "I am a Toa! And as a Toa, I do not stand down against petty sarcasm."

The green figure frowned. "Toa?" he spat. "What kind of garbage word is a Toa? Are you spewing out nonsense just to anger me, hero? You better watch yourself – you don't want to see me get angry!"

"I'll show you what it means, monster!" Luha exclaimed. Summoning her elemental power, she caused a geyser of protodermis to erupt underneath the green figure. It slammed into his armor and splashed everywhere, drenching the streets and everyone around them.

The black being shrugged as his counterpart shook off the water harmlessly. "Cute. Real cute," he mocked. "However, it's not nearly enough to even scratch my friend's armor. Unfortunately, I can't say the same about you." He pointed to the green being, who was now getting very angry. "You see, when he gets angry, things start to spontaneously disintegrate."

"In other words, you Toa and Zatoran are going to feel the pain of poison!" the green being shouted. His unarmed hand began to glow a sickly green, and Luha and the Zatoran felt a queasy feeling in their chests.

"Take cover!" Vieta and Luha screamed, as a blast of poisonous liquid shot from the green beings hand. The liquid splashed into several huts, seeped into their foundations, and began to crack their stone. In a blink of an eye, the buildings shattered into rubble, leaving nothing but a sickening cloud of dust that quickly spread across the village. The Zatoran began coughing madly, and tried desperately not to inhale too much of the toxic dust.

"Who... are… you…?" Luha said, in between fits of coughing.

"I am Okmyon," the black being said. "And my friend here is Gytaz. We are Yahzuhk – brothers to Zahkraz, Tiroz, and Eloh. Or, did you not already figure that out? After all, I'm sure you noticed the 'family' resemblance."

"More… Yahzuhk?" Vieta gasped. "No…. this can't be happening…."

"Ah, but it is," Okmyon replied. "The little skirmish you had at your precious Cleaning Waters was only a mere taste of the power that the Yahzuhk hold together. And now that we are united again, our strength has increased many times over."

"Too bad for you, puny zhikrags!" Gytaz said, charging his power again. "Now, how about some more poison?" Aiming his hand downwards, he formed an enormous cyclone of poisonous sludge, which began spinning into everything in its way. The Zatoran tried desperately to run away, and Luha attempted to negate the poison with blasts of protodermis. In the ensuing chaos, the guard named Waguna tripped, and the cyclone of poison rammed into her, corrupting her armor and internal tissue. She fell onto the ground in agony, and the impact shattered what remained of her body into splinters.

Vieta felt her heart pang with sorrow. Waguna has only joined the defense force less than 12 hours ago, and already she had fallen to the might of the Yahzuhk. She hadn't been ready for an attack like this, but Vieta had assigned her to the most dangerous part of Vorza anyway. True, experience was always gained through conflict, but was it worth sacrificing some new recruits in order to make others stronger?

That was what Olan would have done, if he were still here today, Vieta thought, as she dodged a stream of poison from the cyclone. He would have given the toughest jobs to the weakest members, all in the name of combat. And looks what happened to him. I can't afford to act like he did, otherwise I'll lose all sense of true emotion.

Emotion was the last thing that was on Luha's mind at the time, despite her reputation for being one of the most caring beings in Mirazis. The green Yahzuhk named Gytaz had become annoyed with Luha's attempts to dissipate his cyclone, and was attempting to ram it into her. She was managing to avoid the sludge whirlwind, but she knew that she couldn't hold out for long. It was only a matter of time before she messed up one of her defensive maneuvers and succumbed to the toxic mass, and her protodermis attacks were doing nothing to stop the cyclone.

"Why won't you stay still for one second?" Gytaz said angrily, as Luha executed a double flip over the remains of a watchtower. He rammed the cyclone through the debris, only to see Luha summersault sideways and run away.

"Perhaps she is smarter than you, Gytaz," Okmyon said, as he watched his brother continue his assault on the Toa. "Using the same maneuver over and over again may work for a while, but it's only a matter of time before beings adjust and figure out how to consistently avoid it."

"Do you have a better idea?" Gytaz replied angrily. "I'm the one who has been causing all the damage here! What have you done since you beat me in that race?"

"Oh, nothing much, but you can't blame a being for sitting back and watching beautiful destruction while it actually is accomplishing more than a minor disturbance," Okmyon replied. "But you're right – I think it is time I inject some new blood into this chaos."

Diverting his eyes to the Toa, Okmyon began to charge his power under the ground. He reached within the cracks and holes in the dirt underneath the village, and focused his power right beneath Luha's feet. With a great cry, he unleashed one compact chain of power, which exploded underneath the Toa with the force of an earthquake. The Toa managed to cushion much of the attack with a quick shield of protodermis, but despite her efforts she was knocked into unconsciousness.

Smiling smugly, Okmyon looked at Gytaz. "She is free for the taking, brother. Finish her off."

"My pleasure," Gytaz smiling, bellowing with laughter. He diverted the cyclone of poison towards Luha, prepared to lash it into her – and reeled back as a blast of lightning flew between the cracks of his armor and into his organic tissue.

"Nobody is hurting Luha while I'm still around," Jorvak said, as he and Ebsmod ran into the village. They faced the two Yahzuhk, who had turned around and were baring their teeth at the two Toa.

"I told you my concerns were justified, brother," Ebsmod said, gathering his element into a huge blast of Tar.

"I know, and I wish they weren't," Jorvak replied. "You realize what this means, don't you?"

"It means that you 'Toa' have dug yourself into a hole," Okmyon finished, smiling at the two guardians. "A hole that you will never climb out of. The united power of all six Yahzuhk will not fall before three leftover scraps of the Acolytes last wishes!"

"We will see about that, monsters!" Ebsmod bellowed, unleashing his tar at Okmyon. The black Yahzuhk responded by unleashing a shockwave underneath his feet, which propelled him upwards and slammed him into the Toa of Tar. Ebsmod was sent hurling backwards, but a cushion of snow created by Jorvak kept him from taking damage.

"A feeble attempt, Toa," Okmyon said. You can not defeat me if you can not touch me. I on the other hand have a reach that extends through every part of the ground… and the currents of the air." Reaching behind his back with both hands, the black Yahzuhk pulled out the two gun-like devices that he carried. He grasped one in each hand, and pulled the triggers on them simultaneously. They unleashed two bullets of seismic energy that streamed through the air, heading straight for Ebsmod. The Toa of Tar held up his axe and prepared to deflect them. On contact, the bullets shattered his weapon into a thousand pieces, and the resulting impact hurling him even farther back.

"Stupid, stupid," Ebsmod mumbled, as he too fell into unconsciousness. Seeing that he was alone, Jorvak prepared to fight what would probably be his last battle in Mirazis. Strangely, however, the two Yahzuhk did not attack him, but instead began to walk away from the village.

"It was a pleasure meeting you Toa, but we have other business to attend to," Okmyon said, as he and Gytaz headed towards Rauga Cliff. "Consider this a warning, compliments of our great leader Zahkraz."

Jorvak stared in disbelief for a moment, feeling rather suspicious. This strange turn of events bared striking similarity to what had happened when he and his fellow Toa had first met one of the Yahzuhk. During that time, the Heat-wielding Tiroz had overwhelmed all three of them with a few attacks, but for some reason he had spared their lives and left the village without another word. It had made no sense to the Toa then, just as this current attack made no sense to Jorvak currently.

Shaking the thoughts out of his head for a moment, the Toa of Storms ran to help his brother. Ebsmod needs my attention right now, he thought. Not these seemingly unsolvable mysteries. But, as he carried Ebsmod back to the village, he couldn't help but shiver at the dire prospects that lied before them.

We defeated three Yahzuhk before, and only two wipe us out now? Jorvak thought. It makes no sense…. Unless… all the battles we have had before were simply their way of toying with us. What if… what if we have never truly faced the power that the Yahzuhk hold? What if all of that was just a mere taste of what Vorza is about to encounter?

Silently, he wished he was wrong, but Jorvak had a sickening feeling that he and his brothers were in for far harder times. And worse, he did not know if they were ready for it. They did not just need more training and more Zatoran. No…. what they needed, was a miracle.

Mynor walked through the Rauga plains, heading towards the village of Vorza, There was no telling what the sacred civilization that the Acolytes had created could be facing, and he wasn't about to let any Zatoran die while he still had life in his body. Darting his eyes back and forth, he ran across the grass at a surprisingly fast speed for his size, looking for any sign of trouble.

After a few minutes, the village came in sight. Mynor was relieved to see that, for the most part, Vorza was still intact. However, the southern entrance and the buildings around it were almost totally demolished, and it appeared that the Zatoran had had a struggle very recently.

Suddenly, something else caught his eye. Beyond Vorza, near the base of Rauga Cliff, Mynor could see two large beings climbing the rock. He squinted to try to make them out, for they looked strangely familiar. His eyes opened slightly wider. It's them, he thought. They've escaped… and so soon!

This, needless to say, was a great surprise to the giant red titan. While he had expected that Zahkraz, Tiroz and Eloh would be awake, what he had not thought possible was that they would have already awaken their three other brothers. Back when his masters had first locked away the Yahzuhk, they had made it a priority to hinder Zahkraz from uniting his brotherhood quickly, if he was to escape. While he and the Yahzuhk of Heat and Frost had simply been imprisoned within the Huyaza mountains, the prisons of the their brothers had been hidden behind a thick wall of unbreakable, energy-dampening metal. The only entrance to their cave was through a dimensional portal hidden under the Tar River, and they had hoped that Zahkraz would not be able to find it.

But, it seemed his masters' efforts had failed, as the other three Yahzuhk were now free as well. The question was, how would he respond? At first, he considered following after the two Yahzuhk. While all six of them would give him a great challenge, putting just two of them out of commission would be easy for him to accomplish.

Then, he quickly shook his head. No… they can be dealt with later, he thought. I must help the Zatoran now. There's no telling what kind of damage those sons of dark fire have already done."

Sighing heavily, he sped over to the village. It was clear to him now that Mirazis needed him more than ever, and he was not about to stand still and contemplate the situation for a while. He knew much about the motives of the Yahzuhk, and he knew that they would not stop until every being in Mirazis was either destroyed or a slave to their might. For, by very definition, Yahzuhk meant "scourge of submission," and their reawakening signaled an end to all true freedom in the universe.

Chapter Four

Summoning the Storm

Walking his stabbing weapons across the ground like a mantis, Tiroz walked into the Exiled Ones' makeshift camp. Behind him, Eloh lumbered over the sand, holding several strange items in his pincers. They both had been gone for nearly fifteen hours, and yet neither one of them looked tired in the least.

Looking around, the two Yahzuhk saw that three of their brothers were already in the camp. Okmyon was sitting on the sand, doing some upgrades to his seismic bullet shooters, while Gytaz was flying around impatiently and shooting poison into the air. And Zahkraz – well, he was right behind them.

"So nice of you to forget to say hello, great leader," Tiroz said, turning around. "And I mean that in a polite way," he added, brushing Eloh's claw away from his neck. Being extremely loyal to Zahkraz, the white Yahzuhk had a tendency to give physical pain to anyone who insulted their leader, and it had become second nature to Tiroz to watch his language when he was around.

Zahkraz smiled. "I did not feel it was necessary to alert you of my presence," he replied, "seeing as that you already knew I was there. Do you have the items?"

"If we didn't, you would annihilate us," Tiroz replied. "So the answer is yes." Holding out his hands, he and Eloh handed Zahkraz several items, including two types of rare plants and a piece of purple crystal. There was also a large brown stalk that looked like a cross between a worm and a tree, as well as a black geode with orange lines.

Gakso, who was standing next to Zahkraz, had never seen any of these items before, and he was rather curious as to how the Tiroz and Eloh had gotten all of them in such a short time. "What is all that smaturg?" he asked.

"Nothing much," Zahkraz answered. "Just some extremely rare items that are mostly much useless on their own. Puffersack fruit, Jaugo weed, Xalun Quartz, Grubber Root - and the most important, a piece of crystal from the Cavern of Reflection."

"Let me say it again," Gakso continued. "What is all that smaturg? How is any of this stuff going to help us hijack the creation beam?"

"Well, it won't be helping you, thankfully," Tiroz said, smirking. "Because if you were taking part in this plan, then I'd fear for all of our lives."

Zahkraz frowned. "Gakso, this is none of your concern. The Yahzuhk have much knowledge of the mystical forces that control this world, and we also know a thing or two about how to harness them using the natural resources of Mirazis. In time, you may someday learn about these things, but for now, you must be trusting."

"From what I can tell, great leader, that is rather comparable to telling wing-head over here to be patient," Okmyon said, as he and Gytaz joined the other three Yahzuhk. "Speaking of which, I've about lost my patience with Masor. He still hasn't returned, and yet we're trusting him with the most essential part of this plan!"

"Oh, he shall return," Zahkraz replied. "You know well that Masor always arrives exactly when he needs to – not a second later, nor a second earlier. There is still a full day before we have our only chance to summon the creation beam, and he understands that very well."

"Speaking of which," Tiroz said, pointing outside the camp. Far past the edge of the Tar river, the sound of rushing water could be heard, which in a dry desert could mean only one thing. In seconds, Masor had come into view, riding on a large wave of water. He set himself down near the other Yahzuhk, splashing everyone in the process.

"Thanks for the bath," Tiroz said sarcastically. "Now, if only you could make Gytaz look handsome as well."

"Speak for yourself," Okmyon said. "You know perfectly well that we're all about as pretty as a wilted Tulu cactus. Gytaz is just even more ugly than the rest of us."

Ignoring his brothers' banter, Zahkraz turned to Masor and bared his teeth. "So, have found the perfect location, Masor?" he said.

"As perfect as any part of Mirazis could be for what we are about to accomplish," Masor replied. "And we head out immediately, or none of that ever takes place."

"Hm, I take it that this location is rather far away?" Zahkraz replied. "Then I suppose that means we must take care of some other business first." Turning back to the camp, he faced the former villagers of Krall.

"Worthy Ones, I'm afraid the Yahzuhk must travel a long distance again," he said. "However, you yourselves have two choices this time – you can stay here and fend for yourselves, or you can come with us and witness the event of a lifetime. Which shall you chose, villagers of Mirazis?"

Immediately, the Exiled Ones began arguing amongst themselves, each trying to shout louder than his companions. Gakso, Nurig, and a female Exiled One named Golga were the loudest, but the combined voices of all the former villagers of Krall were enough to annoy the rest of the Yahzuhk. Gytaz, especially, was getting extremely angry, and his response was to shoot a few blasts of poison over the heads of the Exiled Ones.

"Listen here you pieces of kramorzak!" he shouted. "If you can't make a simple decision like this, then we'll make it for you!"

"Thank you, Gytaz," Zahkraz said. "That will be quite enough. And since you cannot seem to agree on this issue, Worthy Ones, the only solution is for you to divide your numbers. Each of you who wish to see what we have in store may follow us, while the dissenters can stay besides the Tar river until we return. Is that clear?"

Slowly, the Exiled Ones nodded their heads, and nearly half of their number went to join Gakso in front of the Yahzuhk. Acknowledging everyone's decisions with a smile, Zahkraz beckoned for Masor to lead the way out of the camp.

And with that, the journey began, although to where no one but Masor knew. Most of the travelers did not know the purpose of the trip either, although they were eager to find out. But, there was no doubt in everyone's minds that, when night had fallen and the journey had been completed, something gravely evil was to take place. And the Yahzuhk could have been more pleased.

"How are they?" Jorvak asked Nortis the healer, as he watched the white, three legged Zatoran look over his fellow Toa. After being carried across the village, Luha and Ebsmod had been set down on the two largest beds in Vorza's medical hut, and they had not woken up since. Despite the seemingly grave situation, however, Jorvak was finding it hard not to chuckle, as the Toa were so big that their legs were hanging over the edge of the beds and flopping on the floor.

"They'll both be fine," Nortis replied, to Jorvak's relief. "Luha is merely suffering from some light concussions, and Ebsmod just had the wind temporarily knocked out of him. I expect that they'll be waking up very soon, Jorvak."

As if prompted by a hidden cue, Luha began to stir, and seconds later she had opened her eyes. "Uh…?" she grunted. "Oh no, I was knocked out by that Yahzuhk, wasn't I? Is everyone okay? Please don't tell me that more of the villagers…"

"Don't worry yourself," Nortis cut her off. "It's my duty to look after the injured, and I can confirm that none of the other Zatoran died after you got hit by that black monster."

"Black… monster?" the voice of Ebsmod murmured. "That's rather rude, don't you think?"

Nortis slapped his head. "I was referring to the Yahzuhk named Okmyon, Toa of Tar," he said.

"Oh… then that makes sense, I guess," Ebsmod replied. His eyes then blinked open as well, and his immediate response was to look around at his surroundings. "Never thought I'd be looking at the medical center from this position," he said quietly.

"Neither of us did," Luha said. "I think this encounter has taught us a lesson – we should be more careful not to overestimate our strength."

Stretching her arms, Luha sat up and began to get out of bed. Nortis quickly rushed over, looking rather concerned. "What are you doing?" he said. "I don't think I said you were well enough to get up, did I? You need some rest, Luha!"

"I don't think we ever said we were too weak to get out of bed, did we?" Ebsmod replied, as he himself was stretching his limbs.

Nortis frowned. "Please, heroes – I insist you stay here for now!" he cried out. "The Yahzuhk are gone and there's no sign that they're going to attack again anytime soon, so…"

Before the healer could finish, however, another Zatoran ran into the medical center. It was Kitao, a rather dedicated and resourceful guard member. "Um, I apologize if this wasn't the best time, guardians," he said slowly. "But, I'm afraid we have a bit of a situation. Are the three of you well enough to come to the southern edge of town?"

"No!" Nortis shouted.

"Yes!" Ebsmod and Luha shouted in return.

Kitao smiled. "Well, it looks like you're a bit outnumbered, Nortis. Come on, guardians – Mirazis needs you."

Before Nortis could protest, the three Toa had left the medical center and were following Kitao down to the south of the village. There, they arrived just in time to witness a rather strange sight.

"Who… who is that?" Jorvak said, looking beyond the village borders and echoing the thoughts of his fellow Toa. There, about a hundred Fios away from the guard towers, a enormous red-armored being was lumbering towards Vorza. Although he did not look as obviously evil as beings like the Yahzuhk and Exiled Ones, the Toa were feeling a bit worried. As the mysterious being got closer and closer, they realized that he likely had the power to defeat all three of them in a cinch, and if his intentions were bad like the intentions of all the other visitors to Mirazis had been so far, then there was no telling what danger the Acolyte's sacred village could face from his might.

This was not fazing Unar, however, who was standing in front of the village entrance and was holding a huge shell over his mouth. "Visitor, enemy, or whoever you are," he shouted through the shell, "this is a sacred village, and we don't take kindly to strangers! Halt your position immediately or we will be forced to deal with you!"

Although it was hard to tell from far away, the strange red being did not even acknowledge Unar's harsh words, but instead continued to head towards Vorza at a steady pace. He was now only about 50 Fios away from the village, and he showed no intention of stopping.

Unar frowned, and continued shouting through the shell. "I said halt, intruder!" he screamed, holding his war staff up threateningly. "We will not tolerate strangers who act like this!"

Once again, the mysterious being did not even hesitate, nor did give a sign that he was even listening to Unar's words. He was now only 25 Fios away, and his features had begun to come into full view. Now, the three Toa realized that he was even larger than they had originally thought, and they saw that his arms and fists were simply gigantic.

And still, Unar was not fazed. "This is your last chance, being!" he shouted. "Stop in your tracks immediately or I will order my guards to fire on you!"

"Unar, get out of the way!" Luha shouted, trying to protect the Zatoran guard. But, it was too late, as the strange red being was now standing right in front of him and the Toa. Nervously, they all looked up at the visitor, who was not facing them directly but instead appeared to be surveying the village of Vorza.

The stranger, who was over a head taller than the Toa, was simply a sight to behold. His armor was both elegant and ferocious looking, and it was covered with strange zigzagging patterns. His shoulders were enormous, and his feet were large and rather boxy. However, his most interesting feature by far was his face, which appeared to be covered by a Kanohi mask! The mask was rather short but was made taller by a huge fin at the top, and a smaller fin branched out from each side of the mouth hole.

Somehow, despite her complete awe at the mysterious being, Luha found the courage to speak. "Um… hello?" she said to the stranger. "I… I apologize if the Zatoran here was rude to you, but we've been growing weary of visitors to this village."

"Visitors like the Yahzuhk, you mean?" the red being replied, without turning his head. "Yes, I understand how that could have… influenced your reaction to me."

At the words of the being, the Toa's mouths dropped, and Unar's eyes narrowed. "Who are you, and how do you know about the Yahzuhk?" he shouted.

The being lowered his head and faced the Toa and Unar. "Forgive me if I have been rather rude myself," he said. "I am Mynor, the last surviving member of the Acolytes."

The crowd of Zatoran guards gathered at the southern edge gasped, and Unar's mouth finally dropped as well. "The… the Acolytes?" he exclaimed. "No, this can't be possible! You are a liar, stranger!"

"If I was truly a liar," Mynor replied, "then I assure you that you would know. But I can tell from the look on your face that you don't really believe that. After all, I certainly do not look like an evil being, do I?"

"Well… no," Unar stuttered. "But…"

"But that is the logic of a fool, is it not?" Mynor continued. "Yes, any wise being would know that appearances can be deceiving, and based on my looks alone, there is truly no telling whether I am an ally to you or an adversary."

He smiled slightly. "So, I suppose until you learn more about me, you simply will have to trust me when I say that I was once a member of the Acolytes – or at least, a servant of them."

"Who… who are you?" Jorvak asked, repeating Unar's words. Needless to say, he had no idea of what to think of Mynor, and he was certain that his fellow Toa were feeling the same way.

Without a second of hesitation, Mynor reached his hand out. "I am a friend, that is all," he said. "Just one who knows far more about Mirazis than you do, but is just as dedicated to ending the threats of foes like the Yahzuhk. If you want my help, however, you must believe I am who I say I am, or we will never be able to work together to defeat their wrath."

The Toa stood in front of Mynor for a while, contemplating all that he had said. This being was unlike any of the monsters that they had faced before, and yet they still found themselves fearing for their lives. It was obvious that he wielded incredible power, but they were unsure whether his motives were as pure as his apparent strength. However… there was just something about him that seemed comforting. Something, which despite their lack of knowledge about the former rulers of Mirazis, seemed almost Acolyte like.

Finally, Luha spoke again. "Mynor," she said slowly, "I still am not sure where you came from, or who you might even truly be, but… I think I do trust you."

"I do too," Ebsmod said. "There is just something about you that is different from every being that we have fought since our arrival – although what it is, I do not know."

"Same here," Jorvak said. "About everything, I mean."

Nodding her head, Luha reached out her hand and shook Mynor's. It was odd, considering that Mynor's hand was nearly three times as big as hers, but at the same time it felt extremely comforting.

"Well, this is fortunate," Mynor remarked. "I was afraid I would not be able to immediately ally myself with you, but it seems I was mistaken. I only have one question, however – where are the other three?"

Jorvak raised an eyebrow. "Other three… you mean the other three heroes?" he asked.

"Needless to say, we have been wondering the same thing," Ebsmod said. "We know they are supposed to come eventually, but so far we have not seen any sign of their arrival."

For the first time since he had arrived in Vorza, Mynor's eyes widened slightly. "What? How can this be?" he murmured. "This was not intended… no, something has gone wrong!"

"Wrong?" Luha asked. "What do you mean?"

Mynor frowned. "I mean that the Acolytes' original plan called for all six of the new guardians of Mirazis to be created at the same time," he explained. "There was never supposed to be a delay between their creation, nor did we anticipate one."

"Then, what are you saying?" Ebsmod asked. "Are you inferring that…"

"I am not inferring, I am stating what I believe is the truth," Mynor replied. "And the truth is… I believe the creation beam has been hijacked. The Yahzuhk intend to do something terrible tonight – and there is nothing we can do to stop it."

Gakso could not believe his eyes. The Exiled Ones and the Yahzuhk had been journeying in the glare of the hot sun for over half a day now, and with each passing hour he had been growing more and more weary of the long trek. While the fast pace the Yahzuhk insisted on may have had something to do with his discomfort, the real problem was the landmarks that they kept passing. The river of Tar, the eastern Urjad Plains, the Great Divide – all of these locations suggested the final destination to Gakso, and yet he could not bring himself to accept it. But, by the time they climbed over the ruins of the Cursed Wall, he was certain where Masor was leading their company to.

Yes, they were returning to the very place that had imprisoned and tormented the Exiled Ones for so many years: the wasteland of Krall. It had been here that Gakso and his fellow villagers had been punished by the Acolytes for their "crimes," and it was here that they had been mutated into horrible shells of their former selves. Gakso was infuriated – Masor had not even cared to warn him, Yazohu, or any of the others about the identity of their destination, and it appeared that he did not share the sympathy that Zahkraz had given them. Instead, he marched the Exiled Ones along like a slave driver, shouting nearly every minute for them to speed up or to keep the pace. The Yahzuhk of Moisture had now become Gakso's least favorite being in the universe – well, except for all the Zatoran, Toa, and Acolytes, that is.

But now, with the journey so far along, he and his fellow villagers had no choice but to continue on, hoping that the "event of a lifetime" that Zahkraz had mentioned would truly be worth the horrible journey and the bad memories that came with it.

Soon, the sun began to set, and with the receding light came the cold desert winds that the Exiled Ones had endured for so long in Krall. They started out as a mildly annoying breeze, but then they started to increase in speed and decrease in temperature. By the time Masor finally told everyone to stop, the air all around everyone had become a raging storm of gusty air.

"We are here!" Masor shouted over the wind, pointing away from his head. Less than 10 Fios away, a tall rock spire jutted out of the sand, looking something like a spike skewering several large boulders. Somehow, despite all their time spent in Krall, the Exiled Ones had never come to this particular spot before, and none of them had known until now that the spire even existed.

"Ah, an excellent choice indeed, Masor," Zahkraz said, grinning. "The top of this spire shall be very suitable for what we are about to accomplish. Let us climb to victory, brothers!"

Without so much as acknowledging the Exiled Ones, the other Yahzuhk pushed past Gakso and his fellow villagers and followed Zahkraz to the spire. There, Gytaz, Masor, and Eloh used their powers of flight, water, and ice to rise up to the flat top of the tallest rock, while Tiroz, Okmyon, and Zahkraz climbed over the nearly vertical rock using their various tools. Tiroz punctured the rock with his stabbers, Zahkraz swung up the rock with his spiked lances, and Okmyon used the back ends of his shatter bolt shooters like pick-axes. Soon, all six Yahzuhk were assembled on the top of the spire, none of them looking the least bit tired.

"Now, we begin," Zahkraz said. Holding out one of his tools, he carved a small pit into the center of the spire's plateau. Eloh and Masor came forward next, holding the special items the Yahzuhk had brought. Carefully, they chopped and minced the ingredients, mixing them in the pit and placing the crystal from the Cavern of Reflection in the exact center. After they had finished, Tiroz and Okmyon piled firewood on top of the pile of rare ingredients, and the former used his power to set the blaze on fire.

"Remember Tiroz, you must keep the fire going until midnight," Zahkraz ordered, as the wind at the top of the spire began to fight against the flames. "And as for the rest of you, send your powers into the blaze on my command."

The other Yahzuhk nodded, and they arranged themselves in a circle around the fire. They waited patiently, listening for Zahkraz's orders.

"Moisture!" the leader of the Yahzuhk shouted, looking at Masor. Obeying, the blue Yahzuhk sent a blast of water into the flames, keeping his powers consistent. Somehow, despite the huge amount of moisture, the fire continued to blaze brightly – except that it now had turned a bright blue.

"Poison!" Zahkraz yelled, facing Gytaz. The green Yahzuhk complied, sending a stream of poison into the flames. Still, the fire blazed on - only now it was a sickly green in color.

"Frost!" Zahkraz shouted, turning to Eloh. Nodding his head, the white Yahzuhk blasted the blaze with a blizzard-like beam of ice. Now, the fire was growing in size, and it had turned an incredibly pale shade of yellow.

"Tremors!" Zahkraz screamed, looking at Okmyon. The black Yahzuhk, who was very meticulous in his efforts, focused on creating a tiny earthquake underneath the fire which was just large enough to serve its purpose, but just small enough that the spire would not shake apart. Now, the fire had turned almost completely black, to the point where it was nearly invisible in the darkness.

Zahkraz bared his teeth, and reached out his weapons. "And finally…. POWER!" Focusing his energies through his spiked lances, he unleashed a blast of orange energy at the fire. On contact, the blaze erupted into the sky, stretching nearly twenty Fios in the air. It grew brighter and brighter, until it finally had turned into a beam of pure power that shot far above the land of Mirazis and charged the air with its energy

Below the spire, all the Exiled Ones gasped at the pure display of power that was unfolding before their very eyes. The sky was exploding with energy of all different colors, and the glow of the "red star" had become brighter than it had ever been before.

Finally, after several minutes, the sky grew dark again, and the only light in Krall was the glow of the Yahzuhk's eyes.

"It is done," Zahkraz said, looking at his brothers. "We have accomplished what we set out to do. The energy of the second creation beam has been reconstituted and reformed, through the strength of all six forces of nature."

He smiled. "We have succeeded, my brothers. But our task has only just begun. Now, our test truly begins – and united together, we shall complete it! In the name of Darkness, let the Krutoa… live!"

Chapter Five

Life and Death

In the midnight sky that covered all of the Acolyte's former land, a storm unlike any other was brewing. Greater and more ferocious than any previous weather phenomenon that had been seen, it grew and grew until it entirely covered Mirazis. Acidic rain began to pour with the force of a tsunami, and it was only the spread out nature of the drops of water that prevented it from destroying ever last living thing. Huge puddles of corrupted water began to form across the ground, and every last inch of dirt turned into thick, disgusting mud. And strangest of all, thunder clapped without the preceding flash of lightning, sounding even more ominous alone than it did when paired with its natural partner.

Indeed, it was the most violent and dreary storm that had ever come upon Mirazis, and even the shelter of the Zatoran's huts could not keep the villagers of Vorza from feeling a sense of dread. And though they did not know it, they and their guardians the Toa had great reason to fear the storm. For, far beyond the edges of the Acolyte's sacred village, something even worse was brewing.

Within the dark grey mist of the thunder storm, the energy of the Acolyte's second creation beam had finally begun to gather itself together. Its life-giving power swirled within the clouds, heating them up and causing them to go through a familiar cycle of color. First red, then orange, then yellow, and so on through every conceivable shade, until it had turned a pure, incredibly bright white. Although no being had witnessed it, this had happened once before – for it had been the very event that had spawned the creation of the first three Toa.

But then, something different happened. Before the creation energy could release itself, the clouds shifted color one more time, turning the deepest shade of black possible. Then, with a great clap of thunder, three beams of lightning shot forth from the sky, tainted with an all too familiar shade of bright, sickly blue. The lightning bolts slammed into the land of Mirazis in three distinct locations, charging them with the energy of creation.

And with that, the storm completely receded, and the stars reappeared in the sky once more. Yes, the gift of life had been bestowed upon the ground of the Acolyte's former land once more, charging it with power unlike any other. But, this time, something had changed – and this difference would soon become apparent to all who lived in Mirazis.

The Urjad plains, a vast stretch of sandy ground and pillars of rock, had never been the harshest place in Mirazis. Although it could not even compare to peaceful, tranquil places like Rauga Valley and Pikoru Peninsula, it also was nothing like the dreadful, nearly lifeless land of Krall. Plants, although limited in their variety and lacking in beauty, still managed to grow and survive in many parts of the plains, and various Rahi had learned how to flourish in the dry, yet relatively mild stretches of dirt and dust.

So, it was not necessarily a surprise at all that the Acolytes had chosen it to receive the gift of life, even though there were far more beautiful and exotic places that could have received their parting present. On the contrary – here, the ruggedness and endurance needed to survive was a true testimony of what the former rulers of Mirazis wanted their replacements to exhibit, and it would also serve as an early test of sorts. If the guardians could make it to Vorza from here, then they would be ready to face far more difficult tasks.

As the darkness continued to loom over the Urjad Plains, one spot in particular was experiencing an unusual wave of activity. No, it wasn't the stampede of various Rahi, nor the winds that had begun to blow across the ground. It was the dirt itself, which seemed to be radiating with pure power.

Suddenly, the ground began to swirl and churn, in a way not unlike the sand that Toa Luha had been created out of. It spun like a miniature cyclone, kicking up pebbles and dust all around its vortex. Then, the dirt began to clump together, taking the shape of a small cylinder. The clump of dirt branched in various places, forming long, thin tubes on the sides and bottom and a small, thick tube on the top. The central tube then began to expand and deepen, and it started to take a more elegant shape.

But then, something went horribly wrong. Energy burst out from the clump of dirt and formed sharp protrusions all across its form. The tubes became more angled and bulky, and the topmost section developed an extremely pointy appearance. In seconds, the smooth form of the dirt had turned into a spiky, hulking disaster, displaying the all-too-familiar attributes of Mirazis's enemies.

Finally, the dirt took on dark shades of red and black, and the swirling completely stopped. All was quiet, and the form lay across the ground like a silent victim of paralysis.

In a flash, two orange eyes blinked open, and the form began to speak. "Wha… what is this?" he said. "What… am I? Is this life? What a joke!"

It was then that the being realized that he felt horrible. He felt as though there was a huge amount of painful energy built up in his form, trying to burst its way out of his system. Growling, he tried to pick himself off the ground, but he only succeeded in flipping himself face first into the dirt.

"Ugh! I hate this place!" he shouted. "Whatever this stuff is, it feels horrible in my… my mouth?"

Thinking about that strange word, he discerned that the "mouth" was something that a being spoke out of, although perhaps nothing more. But, talking to himself didn't seem to be accomplishing anything, as he was still stuck in the horrible-feeling stuff.

Stretching his limbs, he finally managed to pick himself up. Now that he was in an upright position, he realized that the "stuff" was actually a vast plain of brown particles, speckled by huge grey towering things and dull green protrusions. These words that he used to describe them – some part of him told him that it was called color, but couldn't have cared less. He wanted to get out of this place as fast as possible.

Moving his legs, he managed to stand himself up, and then he attempted to travel across the brown plain. However, his unsteady hobble only managed to get himself a few steps ahead, where he slammed into a tall green thing that was line with sharp spikes.

"Yeow!" he screamed, hurling himself away from the green mass. That thing had hurt him – and he desperately wanted to hurt it back! Suddenly, as if his body had read his thoughts, his hand heated up and unleashed a stream of glowing orange liquid at the green spiky thing. On contact, the orange goo set the mass on fire and turned it into ashes in just a few seconds.

"What… was that?" he said. "I like it." This… power of his, had accomplished exactly what he had wanted to do… and then some! It had not nearly given the green thing pain - it had completely destroyed it! Yes, this was the first good thing he had discovered – and he wasn't about to let it go to waste. Stumbling around, he used his power on everything in sight – rocks, plants, even the ground itself! It felt… well, it didn't feel good, but it was satisfying in a way. The only problem was, with each burnt up object, his desire for destruction only increased. Was this…. obsession?

Eventually, however, he began to feel tired, and he could no longer summon more than a tiny stream of hot orange goo. He could still move around, but he didn't have the strength to continue obliterating things. And that didn't make him feel good… at all.

"No!" he shouted. "Why is this happening?!" Now he felt even worse than he had felt before, even after the destruction. What was this… this horrible condition?

Then, out of nowhere, another strange word popped into his head. "Anger…." he thought out loud. "This is… anger. I am… angry!"

Shouting, he repeated the word over and over. "Angry! Angry! Angry! Angry! I AM ANGRY!"

Once again, however, he began to feel tired. But, for the first time in his life, he actually felt good. Now, even if he still didn't know why he felt so bad, at least he knew how to get his mind off his condition. This… this anger, could be controlled, and by controlling it he could get his mind off the pain.

"But something… something is still missing," he thought. "I… am missing. I don't know who I am, or what I am, or…"

Ry…, something whispered into his ear. Rrrrryyyyy

"What?" he said. "What is… 'Ry'?"

Rrrrryyyy, the voice repeated.

"Rrrryyyy," the being said. "Ryyyyto… no, that isn't right… is it?" Something was wrong… for a moment, he almost had felt as if he had stumbled on the answer, but it had slipped away. "Ryyyyyy," he repeated. "Ry…trax. Rytrax?"

Yes, that was it. Rytrax... a horrible sounding word, but one that described his nature, his essence, his very being. "I am… Rytrax," he growled. "I am RYTRAX!"

Now, he was complete… or at least as complete as he thought he would ever be. For, his anger had clouded his mind, and he was unable to imagine something better. His heart had been taken… taken, by Rage.

In another part of the Urjad plains, a second, brown armored being had found herself smack-dab in the middle of a completely different situation. Straight in front of her eyes, two huge things were fighting each other in a battle that seemed like it would never end. One of the creatures was a rough-skinned creature that had a huge tongue and hopped along the ground. The other had wings and a big beak, and was trying to scoop up the other creature in its mouth. The first thing was fighting hard but seemed to be losing, as the latter thing was insistent on capturing its prey.

As the two creatures fought, the being looked on with twisted fascination. The concept of struggling for survival was brand new to here, as she had been created only hours ago. Soon after she had arrived, she had discovered she had the power to create a thick, coarse liquid that burnt through everything that it touched. She had wondered since then what the purpose of the substance was, and whether its effects only applied to non-moving things. What would happen if she used it on one of the two creatures?

Grinning wickedly, she decided that it was time to find the answer to her question. Moving towards the fighting beings, she unleashed a stream of her toxic liquid at the winged one. As she had suspected, the substance ate right through the creature as easily as it had burnt through rocks and plants. The only difference was that, while those objects had disintegrated as well, they had never shrieked like the winged creature had.

She cackled. "Well, that is something, isn't it?" she said. "All I know is, it's rather satisfying to watch. I wonder if…"

Then, for a split second, she began to question whether her reaction had been the correct one. For some reason, it almost seemed like laughing at the destruction of a living thing was rather tasteless and horrible – but she was getting these suspicions totally from her mind, not her emotions.

"And my… emotions, haven't felt as good as this since, well, ever!" she exclaimed "That must mean that my reaction is right – or why else would it feel right?"

That reminded her: she had recently given herself a title that seemed to be derived from her feelings about her new life and personality. She had stumbled across it after melting an entire clump of cactuses with her power at the same time – it had just appeared in her mind right after the last plant burnt to the ground.

"Karza," she said. "What an odd name, but so incredibly fitting. I am Karza, and I like my powers – a lot."

Yes, she was indeed thrilled with her gift of destruction – thrilled that the power to end the life of other creatures was hers to command. She did not feel any regret or any sorrow at her actions, nor did she hesitate even slightly to use her acidic liquid on those who crossed her path. For, her emotions had been taken… taken, by Rage.

In yet another part of the Urjad Plains, a third, white armored being had discovered a rather unique phenomenon. Scarcely 10 body lengths away from her, a giant stream of black liquid was flowing across the sand, dividing the desert into two distinct sections. Right in the center of the river, a large, wall-like object was sunk deep into the thick substance, decorated with things that she believed were called symbols. But of what?

This didn't matter to her at the moment, however, because directly in front of the black river was something far more interesting. Camping around the shore of the stream were dozens of creatures that looked something like her, except that they were shorter and had different kinds of body parts. Some had tails instead of legs, other has wings instead of arms, and a few had giant claws instead of hands and feet. For some reason, they had not noticed her arrival, as they were chatting amongst themselves in the same language that she spoke.

"What is taking it so long?" one of the beings said, stamping her claws on the ground. "We've been waiting for nearly half a day since that storm receded, and we haven't seen a single sign that anything has changed!

"For once in your life, Golga, can't you be patient?" another replied. "Zahkraz hasn't failed us yet, and those crazy fireworks in the sky a while ago are enough proof to me that something bad is happening. And when I mean bad, I mean awesome."

The white-armored being didn't know what the creatures were talking about, but it did interest her. Although she wasn't sure what the "fireworks" and "storm" referred to, she suspected that they had taken place shortly before her creation. Did they have anything to do with her existence – and if so, had these beings suspected her arrival? Whatever the case, she had to get answers, and they were the first place to start.

Slowly, she came over the hill of sand and moved herself in the strange creatures' line of sight. At her arrival, their eyes widened and their jaws dropped, and they began chatting amongst themselves again.

"Is that… could it be really…?" one said.

"I told you it would just take a little time for something to happen, koborks!" another shouted. "I just didn't know the results would look like this…."

Annoyed, the white being shot a blast of crystal across the heads of the creatures, which caused them to quiet down. She had discovered this power hours ago, but this was the first time she had found an actual use for it.

"Who are you, beings, and how do you know of my coming?" she asked harshly. "I was only created a little while ago, and yet you claim that you have expected me."

"Well, technically, we only were assured that you would come by someone else," one of the beings said. He was blue and had two tails coming out of his lower body. "We never could be a hundred percent sure that you – or anything would arrive – we simply relied on…"

"Answer the question," the white being said, cutting him off. "I didn't ask to hear your pointless ramblings."

Grinning nervously, the blue being introduced himself. "I am Yazohu," he said, "and these are my fellow villagers. We are known as the Exiled Ones, but long ago we were once simple Zatoran like the inhabitants of Vorza."

The white-armored being frowned, and did not reply. Her face was as blank as could be, for she truly had no idea what the blue villager meant by his strange language. Zatoran? Vorza? What did these words refer to?

Growling, another one of the Exiled Ones lifter her arms up in frustration. She was green and black and was laden with giant claw-tipped arms and legs. "Who is the kobork now?" she shouted at Yazohu. "This being doesn't understand how Mirazis works yet. You can't seriously expect her to know about those muzakas in Vorza, can you?"

"Would you rather explain everything yourself, Golga?" Yazohu replied. "I sure don't expect you to do a better job than I did – you dirty glaskag of an Exiled One!"

With that insult thrown, the entire crowd of Exiled Ones exploded with argument. The villagers quarreled amongst themselves about whether Golga deserved to be cursed so harshly and whether Yazohu was worthy enough to demean her, forgetting all about the new being who had arrived at their camp.

Without so much as shrugging, the white-armored visitor decided that she had had enough of the Exiled Ones' lack of answers. Holding out her hand, she created another beam of crystal that she sent flying towards the villagers. However, this time she did not aim to miss, but instead plowed the crystal into Yazohu's chest, piercing it and causing him to gasp in horror. His eyes widened, and he fell over face first, dead as the crystal that had entered his heart.

At the sight of their fellow villager's fate, the other Exiled Ones quieted down again, and they looked at the white-armored being with a mixture of fear and resentment. If their murderous visitor had any regret about killing one of their kind, she did not show it, as her face was as rock solid as her element of crystal.

"Who… are you?" one of the Exiled Ones asked timidly.

"Who… am I?" the white being replied, showing emotion for the very first time. "I… I don't… know." Then, as quickly as she had said those words, she continued. "Wait… I do know. I... am Vidras."

What the name Vidras had given herself meant, she did not know. But, as she stared coldly at the Exiled Ones, she had her suspicions. For, despite her hard exterior, inside her emotions were filled with anger and frustration, contrasting everything that the beings around her believed she was. Yes, her personality had been taken… taken, by Rage

Chapter Six

Motivations of Life

Closing her lips, Vieta lowered her head and looked away from the mysterious new being who had come to her village. Although her face was hidden, her jerky movement betrayed the nervousness and suspicion that she had towards the crimson-armored arrival. Considering that she was usually the first to receive word of strange events like this, it was rather uncomfortable for her to face the new arrival after everyone else had already learned of his existence – especially considering what had taken place earlier.

After the battle against Okmyon and Gytaz, she had left to help escort a group of miners to the quarry, ignoring the protests of her fellow guards. Although she didn't usually feel like straying far from her village, she had been eager to get the Yahzuhk's attack off her mind, and helping the Zatoran gather building materials to repair the village was one of the more constructive ways of accomplishing this. Regardless, by the time she had returned, the night sky had fallen upon Vorza, which meant that she had been the last being to learn of the crimson-armored stranger's arrival. Worse, since acid rain had begun to pour almost immediately after she was told, she was forced to scramble into the nearest hut, grumbling about the "two-headed weather conditions."

Of course, the messenger had assured her that this strange new fellow was of no danger, but the very description of the being had sent shivers down her spine. Over two Fio's tall, covered in armor, fists the size of her head – no matter how elegant he looked, the mysterious being was simply to powerful for her to leave unquestioned. Especially, since he had reportedly claimed that he was a servant of the Acolytes – something that seemed absolutely ridiculous to her. In the hut she had taken refuge in, she made a point to herself to find the new arrival the second the rain let up, expecting that he would not be interested in being interrogated by a weaker being like herself. Thus, she was rather surprised when, against all her expectations, the stranger opened the door of the hut and greeted her without even so much as waiting for a response.

"Good evening, Vieta," the being said, smiling slightly. "The Toa have informed me that you are currently the leader of this village, and I have heard from another source that you wish to… question me."

Shocked, Vieta had nearly bumped a table upon hearing the being's response. It was odd enough that massive stranger had apparently humbled himself, and that was not even counting the fact that he was standing outside when it was still raining searing liquid!

"Well… stranger… this is quite a surprise," she finally said. "I honestly did not expect you to act this way… that is, if you aren't trying to persuade me to your side through initial acts of kindness."

The being continued smiling. "You certainly have an active imagination, Vieta," he said, as the acid rain bounced off his seemingly invulnerable armor. "Though, that may not necessarily be a bad quality in mysterious times like these. However, I can assure you that your concerns about me will not be fulfilled in any negative way. The question is – will you let yourself be assured?"

Narrowing her eyes, Vieta looked at the stranger questioningly. "Who are you to question my feelings towards a complete stranger like yourself?" she responded harshly. "I am perfectly justified in my concerns, and…"

"Oh, I agree," the being said, cutting her off. "But looking purely at the facts is not what trust is about, is it? Or are you so blind as to believe only in things that are familiar and easily understandable?"

"What…what in Grinolsa's name are you talking about?" Vieta exclaimed. "I'll say it again – who are you?"

The being frowned. "Who am I? Vieta, don't act ignorant about me. You have known the answer since the Defense Force informed you of my arrival." He sighed. "But… to solidify it in your memory, I will tell you again. I, am Mynor, the last living servant of the Acolytes. And you, Vieta, have much to learn in the ways of trust and relationships." Before Vieta could reply, he quickly continued. "However, this is not the time or place to explore such things. But, the time is right for you to explain to me what has gone on since the death of my masters - unless it is your custom to smite potential allies with a refusal of information."

Had this been an average visitor, Vieta's next response would have been to explode in his face and hurl a few insults. Instead, however, she forced herself to calm down, focusing on the two details that mattered more in the long run. Firstly, Mynor was obviously stronger than her – and one swipe of his hand would probably be enough to knock her out. And secondly, he had referred to himself as a "potential ally," and those two words were enough to convince her that his intentions were far different than those of the power-hungry Exiled Ones and murderous Yahzuhk.

So, fighting against her will, Vieta had reluctantly given Mynor a rundown of all the events that had taken place since the passing of the Acolytes – which had been barely two weeks ago on the ten thousandth year of Mirazis's history. Carefully, she gave accounts of the arrival of the Toa, the battles they had had with the Yahzuhk, and even more personal events such as her conflict with one particular Exiled One and the death of one of her friends. Mynor remained quiet for most of the time, only interrupting once in a while to ask questions. When Vieta finally finished half an hour later, the expression on his face remained the same, but his eyes showed significantly greater concern.

"My apologies, Vieta," Mynor said, folding his hands. "It appears that I underestimated how much misery and danger you have only experienced in just these two short weeks. I must admit that I did not think the best of you when you confronted me, and although it pains me to say this, I do wish I and my masters had devoted some time to understanding the complex relationships that encompassed the villagers of Vorza."

Vieta raised an eyebrow. "Wait… what is that supposed to mean?" she asked. "Are you actually suggesting that your masters, the rulers of an entire land, didn't even know the inhabitants that well?"

"Barely at all, as a matter of fact," Mynor replied, his words heavy with regret. "The reality is that, although my masters ruled Mirazis, they felt that it was best to stay out of the normal business of Vorza. You may have assumed that we were watching the village carefully, even though they did not speak personally to the Zatoran often, but in fact they did not know much about the individual beings in Vorza. Instead, they choose to focus their control on the natural aspects of the land around the village, leaving the general affairs of their sacred village to the Zatoran's hands."

Vieta did not reply, but inside she shaking with both bewilderment and anger. Although Mynor obviously did not know of it, his words had challenged everything Vieta had once believed about the former rulers of Mirazis. For years, she had devoutly followed the philosophy of an ancient legend, which stated that the Acolytes were involved in the ways of the Zatoran through an almost undetectable subconscious influence. Vieta had believed this for all of her life, and this belief had also affected how she had treated her fellow villagers. Whenever she found herself insulting one of her friends or being too harsh on one of her guards, she always ended up apologizing soon after, in obedience to the silent voices she insisted were guiding her to be a better being.

But now, with Mynor's deadly explanation, her faith in the Acolytes had been shaken, and with that came the suspicion that her beliefs may had negatively influenced her life. Although she wasn't about to completely renounce her trust in the former rulers of her land, the revelation that they had no involvement in the relationships was unsettling, and it made her wonder whether they even deserved her respect.

"You have lost something dear to your heart, haven't you?" Mynor said, shaking Vieta out of her thoughts.

"What… no!" Vieta exclaimed. "What are you… talking… about…"

"I understand your frustration," Mynor continued, "even though I do not know you personally. From the moment I saw that look in your eyes after I apologized, I knew that you had a deep attachment to my masters. It was only inevitable that your faith in them would suffer a heavy blow, and it's only natural that you are experiencing a rather jumbled stream of emotions."

Vieta frowned, and her fists began to tighten. "Stop with this nonsense!" she shouted. "Why in Mirazis would you understand anything I am feeling? You said yourself that you did not know me personally, nor any other Zatoran who has ever lived, so how can you act like -"

"Oh, this is no act," Mynor replied, cutting her off. "Just because I have not known you until now does not mean I cannot relate to your sufferings. Shattered trust is hardly a rare phenomenon, after all."

Slowly, Vieta's expression calmed, and her fists unclenched. "You… you've been betrayed as well?"

Mynor nodded, and he closed his eyes. "It was a long time ago, and I would prefer not to talk about it. But, I can tell you this – the results of the age-old deception I experienced did not cease to exist the day I found out, just as your feelings about my masters will not evaporate any time soon."

He sighed. "Enough of this," he said gruffly. "The acid rain has stopped, and the results of the dark clouds will show themselves in due time, so we must be prepared for their arrival."

"Results?" Vieta asked, as she got up from her seat. "Are you saying this rain was not merely a random weather phenomenon?"

Mynor narrowed his eyes. "Oh no," he said, "not at all. Acid rain has not poured in Mirazis since the Acolytes first set foot in Mirazis's green pastures, and its coming signals the beginning of a wretched turn of events. Events, that are now marked with the power of the Yahzuhk."

Smiling underneath his facial armor, Okmyon bounded across the dusty plains that laid between the Great Divide and the River of Tar, riding on well-timed seismic bursts that flung him through the air. Behind him, Zahkraz and the rest of the Yahzuhk and the Exiled Ones marched across the ground that he had covered just moments before, moving far slower than they had during the trip to Krall. Now that their mission had been accomplished, most of his brothers were happy to take a leisurely pace – although Masor had set off on his own after complaining about "wasted time."

As for Okmyon, he was cheerful to some extent, but mostly just annoyed with his brothers. It wasn't that they weren't bad company – it was just that it was hard to think to himself while Tiroz and Gytaz were arguing who was more cruel and violent. So, he had offered to scout the territory ahead – which, while unnecessary and rather monotonous, gave him a break from the rest of his fellow Yahzuhk.

In no time, the familiar "waters" of the famous tar river of Vorza had come into view again, and a light exertion of Eloh's powers created a bridge of ice that allowed them to cross over it with ease. It was then, that Okmyon realized something was wrong. He had expected the Exiled Ones who had remained besides the river to greet them causally, but instead they were staring at the Yahzuhk with cold expressions and lifeless eyes. Had they still been in Krall, this would have been perfectly understandable, but they had left that harsh prison weeks ago and had been far happier ever since. What had changed?

"Is something… the matter?" Zahkraz said calmly, facing the Exiled Ones.

"Yeah, seriously," one of the returning Exiled Ones added. "You look like you just dropped your lunch down the Canyon of Dark Wishes or something."

The other former villagers of Krall did not reply, but instead parted their group and let two of their number pass through the crowd. In their hands lay the lifeless body of an Exiled One, which Zahkraz recognized as the dead form of Yazohu. The two villagers did not evidently care that much about the particular being's life, as they were dragging him across the sand with a total lack of respect for his body. But, the leader of the Yahzuhk knew that something was bothering them, and he wasn't about to let their anger explode in his face.

"What has happened here?" Eloh said coldly, kneeling down to look at the body. "Have you forgotten to save your rage for the Zatoran of Vorza and have now unleashed it on one of your own?"

"Ah, even with all four of your eyes, you still can't read emotions to save your life, Eloh," Tiroz said, smirking. "Had the Exiled Ones been the source of this rather vicious death, they would have never faced us with this kind of scorn and distrust."

"As much as I hate to agree with a crude, simplistic hothead like Tiroz," Okmyon added, "I believe he is right. Something else is at work here, Eloh, and I must say I'm rather disappointed with your incorrect observations."

"Who is to be disappointed by whom?" Eloh shot back, as he looked over Yazohu's body. "Initial observations have no superiority over one another, no matter how outlandish they may be. Only hard, cold evidence will ratify any conclusion… and I have found just that."

Picking himself up, Eloh went over to Zahkraz and handed him a piece of crystal that had been lodged in what remained of Yazohu's heart. The leader of the Yahzuhk studied the piece for only a second before his eyes lit up and he smiled.

"Ah, so it has come to pass already," Zahkraz, smiling.

"What has what?" Gytaz spat, looking at the crystal with confusion. "How does that little piece of rock prove anything?"

"If you didn't have a rock for a brain yourself, Gytaz, you would know," Okmyon said, shaking his head. "There is only one being in Mirazis who has the elemental power of Crystal, and we all know who that is."

Zahkraz smiled. "Yes, my brothers, the Krutoa have arrived - and with their creation comes the most crucial step of our plan."

"Are you forgetting something?" Gakso's voice called out. Pushing his way through the crowd, the red-armored Exiled One faced Zahkraz angrily. "Listen here, great leader – I couldn't care less about Yazohu's life, and neither do the other Exiled Ones – but none of us are willing to obey your every wish as long as your great plan endangers our lives! You said you brought us out of Krall to rule, not to die, and…."

"That is not what he said," Masor interjected, coming out from behind the rest of the Yahzuhk. Clutching his torrent blades in his hands, he approached Gakso and scraped them together threateningly.

"Zahkraz promised you power, Exiled Ones," he said in a harsh but quiet tone. "What he did not promise was that all of you would survive to claim it. Yes, together as a whole, you will claim the power you desire – but strength only comes when the weaker elements of an entity are removed."

Edging one of his blades forward, he pushed the tip underneath Gakso's mask. "Zahkraz has told me much about your motives, villager, and I know that this philosophy does not contradict what you believe. It seems, however, that although you and the others applied it to the Zatoran of Vorza, you did not apply it to yourselves. And now, the shock of losing one of your own has made you question your alliances."

"What... what are you saying?" Gakso said timidly, holding his breath in as Masor's blade rested on the bottom edge of his mask.

Masor frowned. "I am saying, that for power to be gained, all weakness must die – and all the weak beings must perish." Quick as a flash, Masor pulled his blade away from Gakso's mask, cutting a piece off in the process. "Including the weakest of the Exiled Ones."

Not once letting go of his breath, Gakso nervously stared into Masor's cold, red eyes. The other Exiled Ones faced the blue Yahzuhk as well, looking just as frightened and as confused as their red-armored brother. For centuries, the Exiled Ones had harbored a steadfast belief that the Zatoran and all other weaker beings would perish if they were ever to escape. They had believed that they would take back Mirazis from the muzakas and koborks, ruling it with an iron fist. But, until now, they had never once questioned the strength they believed they held – for they had assumed that they could not fall against any opposing power once the Acolytes had been disposed of.

Finally, after a long period of silence, Gakso sighed and turned to his fellow villagers. "Masor is right," he said, inciting several objections from the crowd. "He is right, you vazoos!" he repeated himself. "We have lived upon this philosophy for far too long without ever truly accepting it. We have applied it only to those who oppose us, applying it only to those we believed were weak."

He lowered his head. "We have been arrogant, ignoring the falls of Ska, Yazohu, and others even as they witnessed to the fact that even those among us do not truly have what it takes!"

Smiling, he lifted his arms up in triumph. "But this stops now. From this point on, I will live to crush all who stand in the way of power – including those of my own who don't have the strength to win this war. I will no longer bat an eyebrow at the death of any of my kind, or anyone else who aids us. If you die, if the Yahzuhk die – it doesn't matter, as long as the strong live on to rule this wretched land! Who is with me?"

At first, the response was complete silence, and Gakso's eyes began to narrow. Then, slowly but surely, a few of the Exiled Ones began to cheer, and they were soon joined by most of their brothers. Even those who were not totally confident in Gakso's words clapped their hands, for he had finally given them a philosophy that would unite the strong against the weak. Whereas they had previously fought against their foes for different, scattered purposes, he had given the Exiled Ones a single, ultimate purpose.

And as they cheered, the body of Yazohu lay silently on the ground, its former inhabitant all but forgotten by the Exiled Ones. For, the dead no longer mattered to the Exiled Ones, and death to them now was merely was a sign of weakness. Weakness, that they were committed to eradicate from every last corner of Mirazis – until its rulers possessed nothing but power.

Rytrax was not happy. The distraught Lava-wielding being, who had been created only hours ago from the dust he had been traveling across since, had been growing more and more agitated with each passing moment. Of course, he really didn't know what happiness felt like, as he had never experienced more than a quick, passing whiff of its pleasant fruits, but he did know that he had not been this upset when he had first gained consciousness. Oh yes, he had been angry then as well – but now he was furious.

It didn't help that he had seen virtually nothing new or different since he had awoken, either. He had been crossing these dirty, uninteresting plains for what seemed like ages, and all he had found was a few more green plants and a moving creature or two. He had incinerated them all, but the momentary thrill of giving things a taste of his pain was wearing off, replaced with a complete lack of excitement. He was utterly bored, and with boredom came frustration and even more anger.

Letting out a great scream, he unleashed a huge blast of lava into the air, which arched across the sky and smashed into a huge rock spire. The spire's base quickly melted and fractured, and the entire structure crashed to the ground, scattering dust everywhere.

"Is there nothing in this stupid land besides rock and dust?" he shouted. "I am sick of these plains! I am sick of every…"

Then, as quickly as he had started shouting, he stopped. Something had caught his eye – something that looked like it would finally offer him the change in scenery he craved. Walking towards the edge what appeared to be a giant cliff, he stared down into the canyon below, trying to make out its features though the glare of the sunlight

What he saw shocked him. Beyond the endless stretches of sand and rock spires, there was a whole different world to behold! Below him, he saw a gigantic field of grass and other plants, shining brightly in the sun. Beyond the field, there was what appeared to be a huge clump of tall green trees, bordered by colossal mountains and an ocean of sparkling blue water. And strangest of all, in the exact center of the grass, a small clump of square rocks lay, surrounding a tall cone-like tower that stretched higher into the air than anything besides the mountains.

Indeed, it was a breathtaking sight – but also rather disturbing. For, although he now knew that the world got better as one traveled on, he couldn't understand why he hadn't been created there instead of in the dusty plains of his birthplace. Stranger yet, he almost felt repulsed by the beauty that he was witnessing – repulsed by the very concept of beauty itself! Something… something was wrong, but he had absolutely no idea what the problem was.

"Hey, so I guess I'm not the only one around here that looks like me, huh?" a voice called out, startling Rytrax from his thoughts. Whirling around, he saw that a slim, brown-armored being was approaching him, wearing what he believed was called a smile on its face. It disgusted him – was this being trying to make him even more upset?

His disgust only increased when he realized that the being was in fact similar in appearance to him, minus the simmering anger that he had been thriving on. Its body was covered in spikes just like his, and its body was covered in metal armor. It also wore something that he knew was called a mask, which he now realized he had on his face as well. Oddly, however, the being was not nearly as hulking or as bulky as he was, and it seemed to have features that signified a drastic difference from him. Yes, she seemed to be…. wait. She? What kind of word was that, and what did it mean? Now he was getting somewhere, but he still was rather confused.

Whatever the answer, Rytrax did not have time to find the truth, as the strange being was distracting him with her words. "I take it you haven't been around that long, have you?" she said.

Before Rytrax could reply, she continued speaking. "I didn't think so. Otherwise, you would probably be doing something more fun, like I am. See, I can make this stuff called acid, and it melts things really nicely. I've made several creatures turn into mush with my power, and it's really quite satisfying." She smiled wickedly. "You, on the other hand, are a lot different than the other things I've encountered. And that makes me wonder… will you melt as easy as them?"

Grinning madly, the being materialized a whirling ball of orange-colored liquid in her hands, which she proceeded to launch at Rytrax. As the acid flew towards the red-armored giant's body, something inside him told him to duck as fast as he could. Grunting, he hurled himself to the ground at the last second, letting the ball of acid pass over him. It smashed into the ground, melting a hole straight through the sand and making Rytrax's eyes widen.

That could have been me, he thought. If she had hit me with that stuff, I would have had a hole right in my chest! And something tells me that wouldn't be good for my health… or my emotions.

The danger had not ended, however, for the acid-wielding being was already forming another dangerous projectile in her hands. Laughing, she shot it at Rytrax, who barely managed to twist out of its way. Then, she formed two projectiles at the same time, one swirling in each hand. Again, she sent them towards her red-armored target, but still they missed and hit the ground with a hissing splash.

Rytrax had had enough. Growling, his own hands began to glow, and he unleashed a blast of scorching lava at his foe. Gasping in surprise, she somersaulted backwards and let it slam into a cactus.

Now, the battle had truly begun. In moments, the plains were exploding with blasts of lava and acid, each hurled by one of the beings at the other. Their bodies glowed red-hot and sickly orange, and their eyes were ablaze with anger and glee. Several times one of the combatants nearly melted their foe, but somehow the other being managed to hurly itself away from the searing projectile just in time. It was a literal stalemate, with neither of the beings able gain the advantage nor allowing themselves to succumb to the other's power.

Eventually, both of the fighters became tired, and the glow of their elemental powers disappeared from their hands. They faced each other apprehensively, waiting for the other to make a move. When neither did, their eyes calmed somewhat, and their scowls relaxed.

"So... you don't melt as easily as the other creatures I've faced," the brown-armored being said quietly. "What an utter disappointment."

Her foe scowled. "I am not a creature, nor am I your walking target!" he shouted. "I am Rytrax, and I will not let any being take away my life for mere sport!"

The brown-armored being frowned. "Sport?" she said. "I don't know what that means, but that can't describe what I'm doing. I melt things because it makes me feel better, and I bet you do the same, Rytrax."

"Maybe I do," Rytrax replied, "but at least I have the sense not to melt someone who looks like me and speaks to me. I may be angry, but I'm not mindless."

"Perhaps," the brown armored being said. "But does this mean you want to… join together with me?"

Rytrax narrowed his eyes "What?" he shouted. "That's not what I said at all! I couldn't care less what happens to you, and I sure don't want to be the partner of someone who tried to kill me the second I met her!"

The brown being sighed. "Of course, of course. But, if you're ever in the mood to cause some destruction together, than just call for me, and I, Karza, will be there."

And with that, Karza left, leaving Rytrax alone once again. It only took a moment after that before the red armored being spat and turned around, eager to leave the thoughts of Karza behind. The world below the cliff would serve as a fine deterrent, for he now realized that there had to be other living beings down among the grasses and trees. Even in the dusty plains behind him, life had somehow existed among the limited vegetation and water. He could only imagine how many more beings lived down in the valley, and he felt it was time to inform them of his angry existence. Why he wanted to tell them, he wasn't sure, and how they would he respond, he didn't care – he just wanted them to know. But, as he began clumsily climbing down the cliff wall, one thing was certain to him.

If I see another being that looks anything like me, he thought, I won't give them a chance to burn me up with their powers. No, I'll attack first.

Chapter Seven

Four Fiends and a Stranger

Of all the parts of the village of Vorza, the quietest place a being could find in the bustling town lied directly at the northernmost point. Although this area had been the scene of one ferocious battle against the beasts known as the Mashraka, it generally received very little attention from either the Zatoran or their enemies. While the western and eastern borders were home to the Defense HQ and the Medical Center, and the southern border had constantly been the scene of many battles against wild Rahi and other beings, the northern edge rarely was home to any excitement. The Orojahuga Jungle, which had for years been a symbol of the Acolytes' mysterious ways, was said to be a protecting landmark that shielded Vorza from outside threats, and also served as an energy-rich attraction that drew dangerous Rahi away from the village.

However, there was one landmark of the northern edge that was important to the Zatoran's lives. The weapons hut, which was built out of the hardest marble and sealed with double locks, served as the source of all the Defense Forces extra weapons – which had been needed more than ever in the days since the death of the Acolytes. If a guard broke a sword, they could find a new one here. If a soldier needed more ammo for his Korzon bullet launcher, then he could find it inside. Indeed, one could find almost every conceivable kind of weapon within the thick walls of the weapons hut, and its position at the direct north of Vorza ensured that its enemies from the south and west would find it difficult to capture or destroy it.

This, however, had never been Vieta's prime reason for traveling to the weapons hut. No, although she came here several times a week, she rarely ever had needed anything from within the building. To her, the northern edge of Vorza was primarily a place where she could home in on her combat skills, alone and in quiet. Generally, her only witness was a robotic training drone which her friend Wudas had invented, which served as a difficult, untiring opponent.

But today, things were different. As Vieta battled her mechanical foe, which had a total of four legs and four gigantic arms, two beings were viewing her intently. One was Wudas, who as a friend to the feisty commander of the guard didn't annoy her with his watching. But the other – well, Luha was a different story. It wasn't that Luha was a burden or unkind – no, as Vieta had remarked before, she was one of the nicest and most caring beings in Vorza. However, the Toa of Protodermis also had begun to gain a reputation among the Zatoran as a skilled and powerful combatant, and some had even gone so far as to suggest that she was equal to Vieta in some respects. This annoyed the commander somewhat, as she had always been a bit prideful and fearful for her reputation. Since she had been created hundreds of years ago, she had wanted to do her absolute best when in front of any other beings, and her training at the weapons hut had served as a place to relax and not worry as much about messing up.

This, however, was impossible when Luha was viewing, for the Toa of Protodermis was neither an especially close friend nor a neutral force in this battle of reputation. If she saw her mess up, it would only serve to bolster the views of the Zatoran - and that would be rather embarrassing, to say the least!

I need to stay focused, Vieta thought to herself, as she lunged at the training drone. Just got to remember all I've learned. Slashing one of her sickles at the machine, she made a gash in the arm of the robot. The drone responded by punching all four of its fists at her, each in rapid succession. Somehow, she managed to dodge all of them, but at the same time she was bewildered. How did I not cut all the way through its arm? she thought. That was Lukamo's dual-slash – I've been using that move for ages, and never once has it…

Then, she realized what had gone wrong, and she sighed. Great, I forgot again, she thought, looking down at the stump where her upper left arm used to be. Ever since she had lost her limb to the Exiled One named Ska, she had struggled to compensate for the disadvantages that came with its destruction. So many of her combat moves before the fatal fight against Ska had focused on using all four of her arms in complex, intricate combat moves – and now, with only three arms, she had found it difficult to fight nearly as well.

That doesn't matter, she insisted to herself. I told Ska that night that combat isn't about the weapons, and I suppose my missing limb counts as a natural weapon. I have the skill – I can fight and defeat this drone with or without four arms!

Yelling a Zatoran battle cry, Vieta charged at the combat drone, which she had set to a defensive stance and would only attack her if she attacked first. Seeing that she was approaching, the drone held its fist up and smashed them into the ground. Dodging the attack, Vieta launched into the air and slashed through one of the arms of the machine.

Yes, that's it, she thought, as she landed on the ground. I've got it on the run now, and….

But, as she thought to herself, the machine lunged at her with its remaining fists. Unprepared, she managed to block the first two with her sickles, but the last one managed to get though her defense and plow itself into her chest. She soared backwards and hit a dirtbark tree, slumping down onto the ground.

"Oh no!" Luha cried, as she jumped up from her seat on the grass. Rushing past the combat drone, she headed over Vieta and picked her up in her long, slender arms. Wudas followed, giving the combat drone a nervous glance as he passed it. Being the machine's creator, he wasn't particularly afraid of its abilities, but seeing it punch his friend like it had was still unsettling.

Carefully, Luha set Vieta down by the weapons hut, waving her hand over the Zatoran commander's face. At first, nothing happened – it appeared that the machine had knocked Vieta out cold. But, then, she began to stir, and her eyes quickly blinked open.

"You can stop doing that, alright?" she said hoarsely.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Luha replied. "Are you okay?"

Vieta growled. "What do you think, wise girl? I'm supposed to be the foremost expert on combat in the village, and I just got my mask handed to me by a lifeless piece of metal. Do you really think that makes me feel okay, or are you just…"

"No, I understand," Luha said quietly. "I didn't mean to anger you, Vieta, but I suppose it's not your fault either way." Without another word, the Toa of Protodermis stood up and went back into the village, leaving Vieta alone with Wudas.

"No, wait – I didn't mean to…" Vieta shouted at Luha, but she was already too far away to hear. "Just great – now I've made someone else upset as well," she said, sighing.

"I doubt she's really upset," Wudas said. "She just knows when to leave a being to herself. I suppose I should be going too -"

"No, stay here," Vieta insisted. "I don't mind your company."

Nodding his head, Wudas sat down next to his friend and put his arm around her shoulder. "Don't worry about what happened," he reassured Vieta. "It's just going to take some time to get used to fighting with a handicap."

Vieta frowned. "Don't lie to me, Wudas – I can tell you don't really think that. The problem is, neither do I." She sighed. "I'm sorry – I'm just so frustrated with myself. Frustrated about how I let myself get permanently injured against the blade of that tirag Ska, and about everything since that. Nothing feels natural to me anymore – I can't fight well, I can't train well, I can't even look at where my arm used to be without feeling horrible about myself!"

Wudas nodded his head understandingly. "Yes, I realize how hard it's been on you. And I'm glad you've told me about your feelings, because now I know you won't be opposed to a treatment for your condition."

Vieta growled. "Treatment? TREATMENT?" she exclaimed. "What kind of joke is that supposed to be? Wudas, I lost my arm – no medicine in the world can fix that, especially since the Acolytes are no longer with us!"

"Oh, I'm not referring to that kind of treatment, Vieta," Wudas replied.

"Then what are you talking about?" Vieta asked angrily.

Wudas smiled and stood up. "Come on, I'll show you," he said, beckoning for her to follow. "I think you'll be pleasantly surprised."

Sighing, Luha strode across the bright green plains south of Rauga Valley, grasping her double-pike tightly. It had been over a day since she had gone out into the lush grasses that bordered Vorza on all sides, and she wanted to make up for lost time. Although her brother Jorvak claimed that he was the most in tune with nature, she also had a deep attraction to the beauty and wonder of Mirazis, especially when it came to the gentle, grass covered plains that she was now traversing.

Besides, she wanted to get her mind off of her run-in with Vieta. It wasn't that it had been a bad fight – or even a fight at all – but it always stung her when beings were careless with their words towards her. It seemed that ever since she and her brothers had arrived, the Zatoran had been treating them differently each day. On one occasion, they could be viewed as the righteous guardians of Mirazis – and then the very next day they would be criticized for "incompetence" or "immaturity." Yes, she, Ebsmod, and Jorvak knew that they still had learning to do, but the Zatoran's constant change of attitude didn't wasn't helping the process.

Trying to push the thoughts out of her head for the moment, she sat down upon one particularly grassy hill, reclining against a sapwood tree and laying her staff on its soft, moist bark. Relaxing her body, she looked around at Rauga Valley, admiring its gorgeous colors and the bright blue sky above. As clouds passed over the valley and small Rahi scuttled across the ground, she began to fall into a trance – when all of a sudden, something whooshed past her mask. Quickly, she jumped to her feet and grabbed her weapon, trying to pinpoint the source of the strange object.

Whoosh, she heard, as another object soared past her. This time, she was able to get a closer glance at the projectile – and its identity startled her. It was, to the best of her imagination, what looked like a ball of liquid fire, which glowed hot enough that she felt its heat as it passed near her body.

Then, she saw something else as well. Barely fifty Fios away from her, a red and black armored being was rushing towards her, fists clenched and glowing with fire. What was shocking was that, aside from the spikes and the overall roughness of his form, he almost looked like a Toa! His body was hulking, yes, and his mask was jagged, but there was no mistaking the intricate patterns on his armor and the bipedal form.

Of course, that didn't explain why the newcomer was attacking her, nor did it explain why his form was twisted compared to hers. Standing her ground, she frantically called out to the being. "Stranger, whoever you are, please don't attack me like this!" she said. "I think you and me have more in common than you might think, and…"

But the only response she got from the stranger was a hail of fiery projectiles aimed right at her mask, which she barely managed to avoid. One flew past the armor of her leg, causing her to cry out in pain. Now she knew that it could not be ordinary fire, for the very proximity of it had been enough to blacken part of her limb.

"I won't have any more of this!" the other being shouted. "You're just setting me up so you can melt me with some blue acid or something! Well, not if I melt you first!"

"No, stop it!" Luha cried. "I had no intention of hurting you, stranger!"

"Who cares what your intentions are?" the being responded, shooting two more balls of liquid fire at her. "All I know is that I'm angry – and when I'm angry, I burn things up with my lava!"

Lava? Luha thought. So that's what he's throwing at me. And if I don't defend myself, he'll melt me down until I'm nothing but burnt metal!

Growling, Luha decided that she had had enough. Leaping back and charging up own power, she launched a wave of protodermis at her newfound foe. With the force of a charging Ulanu bull, it slammed into the fiery stranger and sent him flying backwards into another sapwood tree.

Grasping her double pike tightly, she approached the spot where her attacker had landed, and was surprised to find that he was standing up, looking as though he had not even felt any pain.

"Hah, is that all you can do?" the stranger said. "What a joke – I thought you actually would be a threat to me. Oh well, at least this means you'll burn up easier!"

Seeing that he was preparing to launch more lava at her, Luha decided that she would have to use a different approach. As her foe launched his projectiles, she jumped up into the air and soared over the lava, lifting her weapon up and slamming it into the being. When she heard him cry out in pain, she knew her plan was working.

"So, I guess that's not all you can do," her foe said, scowling. "But what is that thing you're carrying?"

"I'll tell you what it is," Luha said angrily. "It's something that is going to knock you back to the miserable hole you crawled out of unless you leave this place now!"

The being growled. "Nobody tells me what to do," he responded. "Nobody tells RYTRAX what to do!" Growling he rushed at Luha, hands glowing with energy.

Luha sighed, as she realized that there was no use arguing with the monster she was fighting. As Rytrax charged at her, she met him with several huge blows of her double pike across his face, and several more across his chest as he lifted his hands up to his head. With a great groan, her enemy slumped to the ground and fell into unconsciousness.

Turning away from her defeated foe, Luha looked sadly at the mess that Rauga Valley had become. The fiery projectiles that Rytrax had launched had caused huge blazes to erupt across the grasses. Summoned a light rain of protodermis helped to quickly douse the flames, but the damage that they had already done to the fields was substantial. It would probably take weeks for the grasses to grow back – if not months - and she felt as though part of her had died within the fire.

She shook her head. "I've got to stop dwelling on this," she said to herself. "Vieta and Mynor need to see this new being for themselves - preferably before he wakes up again." Picking up her weapon, she quickly rushed back to Vorza, glancing back at the fallen body of Rytrax in the process. She wasn't worried that he would sneak attack her, nor was she afraid that he was faking his injury. She had knocked the spiked being out hard, and unconscious beings didn't just wake up in mere minutes.

No, what worried her was that, somehow, something was telling her that she and this strange new being were related. And if they were related, she feared that something very bad had gone wrong with the latter being's creation.

Cackling madly, Karza bounded across the dusty plains of Urjad, launching blasts of acid at everything in sight. Since her failed attempt to melt the angry being she had met hours ago, she had decided to work on improving her aim and accuracy, and her training had paid off. Now, she could hit plants and rocks from extremely long distances, and Rahi were no match for her newfound skill.

As the obsessed being of Acid burned a path of destruction through the plains, her mind was solely focused on the pleasure she received from melting things into puddles of corrosive liquid. Never once did she question her actions, nor did she ponder the results for any measure of time. No, she was far too focused on what happened in between – the carnage was what mattered to her, and everything before and after was worthless compared to the addicting experience of destroying everything in her way.

Still, it did bother her slightly that one of her targets had managed to escape her attacks, and even more so that he had threatened her life as well. Although the being, who had called himself Rytrax, had not ended her life, she had also failed to end his – which was something that deeply bothered her. She had great power – why should any being be able to escape its corrosive touch? Or was the fact that he had survived a testimony to the possibility that he was actually as powerful as her? These thoughts deserved careful consideration – but at the moment, she was too absorbed in her destructive spree to care.

After the hundredth rock and fiftieth cactus, however, the thrill that these easy targets had originally provided began to wear off, and the wicked smile on her face began to turn into a frown. For some reason, the pleasure that melting those formations of stone and vegetation now only was half as intense, and her level of excitement was gradually decreasing. Rahi were still a different matter - the screams and shrieks they gave never god old – but they were few and far between. And, for some reason, she was beginning to wonder whether there was more to life than ravaging the world. Could their possibly be even greater fun to have in this strange place of rocks, plants, and dumb beasts?

"Finally gotten bored of making things disappear?" a voice called out, startling the being of Acid. Without so much as hesitating, she spun around and unleashed a stream of acid at the source, who had no time to duck or to dodge her attack. Right before the blast was to connect, however, a wall of shiny, white rock erupted from the ground, stopping the acid right in its tracks.

Karza's eyes widened as she realized what had just happened. Unlike all the other objects she had faced before, this glass-like rock was able to resist her acid's corrosion, to the point where it was able to prevent a being from being melted!

As she gaped at the white rock with a mixture of amazement and resentment, the being who had been protected by its shiny surface stepped out from behind the hard mass. Now, Karza could see that she was female like herself, and was covered in white armor that strongly resembled the pointy crystal that she had created. She faced Karza coldly, looking as though she had even less respect for life than the latter being did.

"I guess I was wrong," the white-armored being said, in a voice that was thick with distaste. "Perhaps I shouldn't have spent this much time following and observing you. Regardless, it's a good thing that my power has multiple uses, unlike yours."

Karza instantly laughed. "Hah, like what? Your white rock may stop my acid, but I bet it can't melt a hole right through a Rahi or plant!"

The white being frowned. "Firstly, my power is called Crystal," she said. "And, concerning your statement, well…" Turning slightly to the left, she launched a crystal spike through the air, which pierced a cactus and turned it into mush. "...you'll be surprised at what it can do."

Karza's eyes narrowed. This was simply unfair! This being could not only deflect her power, but she could also destroy things as easily as she could! All of a sudden, Karza began to feel rather jealous – although she wasn't about to admit it.

"And your name is?" the white being continued. "I assume you at least have that, if nothing else of worth. And besides, you owe me, seeing as that you tried to kill me."

Karza growled. "My name is Karza, you… whatever you are, and I'll kill and destroy whatever I want!"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll try to, anyway," the white being said coldly. "Meanwhile, I, Vidras, have more important things to worry about – although I doubt you'd be interested."

"Things like what?" Karza said, laughing. "Don't tell me – you've already figured out our origins. Cause I have a feeling that you haven't been around any longer than I have, and…"

"As a matter of fact," Vidras replied. "I may know of someone who does."

Karza's eyes calmed. "Wait," she said slowly. "You're saying that someone out there knows where we came from? Someone who hasn't even met us yet?"

"They've met me," Vidras answered. "And, although I don't know how or why, they apparently expected me. Who knows – they may have expected you as well."

Slowly, Karza's lips curved up into a smile. "Tell me Vidras," she said. "Do you know where I can find these beings? Because I suddenly have a desire to fulfill their expectations – and then some."

"Oh, there will be plenty of time for that," another voice called out, surprising both Karza and Vidras. Turning around in flash, they unleashed blasts of acid and spikes of crystal at the source, which appeared to be… nowhere?

"What? Where did it go?" Karza exclaimed, looking around angrily.

"I believe your answer lies over there," Vidras said, pointing to a trail of rock and dust that was flying up in a curved pattern. Quickly, the rock looped around and began heading towards the two elemental beings - but almost immediately after it stopped, and a squat, black-armored being leaped straight from beneath the rubble.

"Well, it seems that you've already found some company," the black being said, in a voice that had the tone of a rumbling earthquake. "However, there's much more to life than mere acquaintanceship, little Krutoa."

"Krutoa?" Karza spat. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"And, if your words are true," Vidras added, "what can you tell us about our… lives?"

The black being smiled. "Why, far more than you could ever imagine. But it comes with a price, and I can't reveal a thing until you pay it."

"Price?" Karza asked. "Are you saying we have to pay to receive information about our very existence? What kind of deal is that?"

"A very good deal," the being replied. "For, the price is simpler than the dirt you're standing on. Simply come with me, and I and my brothers will reveal the facts of life to you."

Vidras frowned. "That is it?" she asked. "No hidden conditions, and no surprise consequences?"

"I'm not sure I trust you… whatever you are," Karza said. "Besides, if there's anyone who needs to get their facts of life straightened out, it's Rytrax."

"Rytrax who?" Vidras said, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, she must mean the third of you," the black being said. "Don't worry - that is being dealt with of as we speak." He smiled. "Yes, the Krutoa will soon be united, and with that unity will come everything that Mirazis has earned for all of its despicable past."

When Karza and Vidras did not, respond, Okmyon sighed. "Just come, and everything will be explained."

Chapter Eight

Secrets of the Dark

With a look of disbelief on her face, Vieta reluctantly followed her friend Wudas into his machine shop. She had no idea why she was doing this – well, actually she did, but Wudas's claim that he would be able to replace her missing arm didn't qualify as a good reason in her mind. True, she desperately wanted to believe this was possible, but at the same time she didn't feel that there was much chance of this happening.

Quickly, Wudas lead her through the maze of machines and tool-laden workbenches, bringing her the back room. This was surprising – Vieta knew that this room was generally the place where Wudas put his failed projects and unfixable machines, keeping them only because their parts occasionally came in handy. Of all the places, why would her mechanic friend bring her here?

"As you probably remember," Wudas said, "there was a short time in Vorza's history when the Acolytes were not able to come down into Mirazis. During the war against the Ghoulbiters 77 years ago, we weren't able to rely on their miraculous healing powers to fix critical injuries, and some in the Defense Force were worried that this would drastically affect their general strategy – not to mention the longevity of the Zatoran ranks."

"You think I don't already know this?" Vieta replied angrily. "I came here because you promised a miracle of your own, not because I wanted to listen to a history lesson."

"I'm getting to the important part, don't' worry," Wudas insisted. "Anyway, after several of the guards were injured, you commissioned me to work on temporary robotic prosthetics."

Vieta frowned. "I had completely forgotten about that," she admitted. "But didn't you abandon working on them because you weren't able to solve a critical engineering problem?"

"Yes, the clumsiness of the pneumatic system," Wudas acknowledged. "That, and the end of the Ghoulbiters conflict meant that there was no need for me to continue work on the project, and the prototypes have been sitting in my workshop ever since then. The good news is, that with my recent advances in cybernetics, the technology may just work this time."

Beckoning for Vieta to come over to a workbench, he pointed to what looked like a defense drone arm. "Basically, what I've done is to insert a large data chip into one of my prototypes and connected it to the old pneumatics systems. I then routed several wires out of the arm and though these new joints I've added."

He smiled proudly. "Now, instead of manually responding to certain motion cues, the arm will be synched through the advanced computer systems, which will in turn be connected directly to your brain."

"My… my brain?" Vieta gasped. "How on earth do you expect to achieve that?"

Wudas's face grew more serious. "Well, that's the catch, Vieta. You see, in order to connect the computer chip to your mind, the wired joints will have to be inserted right into the remaining part of your arm. This, unfortunately, will probably cause you a lot of pain, which is why I must ask of your utmost permission to do this procedure. It won't require you to be calm or quiet, but it will require you to be as still as you can. Otherwise I may end up miscalculating the incisions, which would be bad for both your health and my reputation."

Vieta frowned again. She was faced with a very difficult decision, and she wasn't sure if Wudas' solution to her problem was truly worth it. "Is there possibly some other way you can connect the arm to my mind?"

Wudas shook his head. "I just don't have the technology yet to connect the systems painlessly," he said. "And besides, even if I was able to engineer an arm like that, I'd have to connect it straight from the hospital bed. Because Nortis sealed off the leftover stump of your arm, there's no way I can wire your natural nerves into the computer systems. An indirect approach is the only option, and as I said, it will be very physically draining."

He put his hand on Vieta's shoulder. "Look, you don't have to do this if you don't want to. I know it's a lot to ask, especially after all you've gone through. I've been working on this arm because I want to make you feel better, and I won't go through with it if you think it will cause you too much pain."

Inside, Vieta was wrestling with her emotions and her memories. The day she had lost her arm had been so traumatizing that she had been put out of commission for nearly a week, and she had never been the same since. A replacement arm could possibly restore her confidence and give back her edge in battle – but would it be worth suffering through even more pain and misery?

Then, in an instant, the answer became apparent to her, and she made her decision immediately. "I'll do it," she told Wudas. "Nothing would make me feel better right now than if I had a fourth arm again, as I just haven't been myself without one."

"Good, then let's get started," Wudas said. At the very moment the words came out of his mouth, Nortis walked into the room. The mere sight of Vorza's famed healer comforted Vieta considerably, as it had been his medical expertise that had kept her from perishing after her injury.

"I was wondering when you were going to begin," Nortis said. "You know, you could have let me stay in here – perhaps seeing a professional medic right from the outset would have made here more comfortable with the idea."

"Or, perhaps it would have made her start worrying right away," Wudas said. "Regardless, it doesn't make a difference now. Vieta, come over here and put your arm in this… er, device," he told his friend, pointing to a clamp that was attached to a workbench.

Vieta smiled slightly, laughing inside about her friend's antics. Even faced with carrying out a seemingly gruesome procedure, Wudas was still trying not to upset her with the cold hard facts. Slowly, she approached and sat down on a stool that Wudas had provided, putting the remaining segment her arm in the clamp.

Gently, Wudas placed the robotic arm over the metallic cover of the arm stump. He then proceeded to slowly tighten the clamp, until both Vieta and the robotic prosthetic were firmly in place.

"Nortis, since you're the expert on anatomy here, could you please mark the places where the remaining nerves are?"

"You should have had me do that before you put her in that thing," Nortis said, sighing.

"Oh, right," Wudas said, slapping his forehead. Quickly, he loosened the clamp and motioned for Nortis to come over, handing the healer a writing instrument.

Carefully and precisely, Nortis looked over the surface of Vieta's arm stump, occasionally marking a spot with black charcoal. When he had finished, he backed away, and Wudas quickly placed her arm in the clamp again.

Observing the marked spots on Vieta's arm carefully, Wudas slowly adjusted the joints on the mechanical arm replacement, changing their position and heights so they matched the marks perfectly.

"Now, here comes the hard part, Vieta," he said to his friend. "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Vieta said quietly.

Nodding his head, Wudas took out what looked like a tiny metal pin with a hexagonal base from a box on the table. Slowly, he pushed it through the metal hole, which matched the base of the pin perfectly. Then, he began sliding it into the metal of Vieta's arm stump, making sure to keep it aligned with the spot that Nortis had marked.

At first, Vieta felt nothing, which wasn't surprising in the least. Since Zatoran had no nerves in their armor, they couldn't feel pain if an object only cut though the surface. But then, as the metal pin began to sink through the organic interior, agony exploded through her body. Somehow, she kept herself from screaming, although she did gasp slightly.

"Alright, one down… um, a few more to go," Wudas said. In actuality, there were nine more pins he had to insert, but he didn't think mentioning that fact to Vieta was the best idea.

As the second pin went through Vieta's body, she tightened herself up and prepared for the inevitable burst of pain. It came, right as she expected it – except that contracting her muscles only had increased the pain. This time she did scream, and it took all of Wudas's effort to keep himself focused.

Pin by pin, the procedure continued, and Vieta's reactions only increased in severity. By the fourth pin, her screams were twice as loud, and by the seventh, she screamed before the pin even pierced through her metal exterior. A couple of times, Nortis attempted to cover her mouth, but Wudas pushed him away, insisting that it would only make her struggle more.

By the ninth pin, tears were welling up in Vieta's eyes, and she was not only screaming but crying. Wudas tried to reassure her, but she only cried more. Shaking his head, he proceeded to put the last pin into the socket, focusing as hard as he could amidst his friend's painful screams.

Finally, it was all over. Quickly loosening the clamp, Wudas breathed a sigh of relief, and he stepped back and waited for his friend to do something.

Vieta's first response was to black out, and she nearly collapsed onto the ground. It was only the quick reaction of Nortis that kept her from smashing her new arm against the table. Unfortunately, this didn't protect him from Vieta's second response, which was to throw up on the floor near his foot. Since it only consisted of hydraulic fluid, it was hardly the most disgusting thing the Zatoran medic had seen, but it still didn't make him happy.

Coughing, Vieta pushed away from Nortis and weakly stood up. She felt so weird, so hurt – and yet she also felt whole again. In all the years of her life, she had seen many strange things - and yet until now, she hadn't believed a word of what Wudas had. Just moments before, the claim that he could give her a replacement arm seemed absolutely ludicrous to her, even despite her longings for it to be possible. But now, against all her expectations, her mechanic friend had accomplished the impossible.

Now, there was only one thing left to do – she had to test what Wudas had given her. Gently, she stepped forward and looked at her new arm, imagining it moving through the air and towards the workbench. Upon her command, it began to reach forward ever so slightly, responding to the very impulses of her brain. As she gained control of its systems, it moved quicker, and the pointy hand at the end soon was touching a metal screwdriver. Willing her new fingers to respond, she opened her hand and gently closed it upon the tool, grasping it and wielding it like one of her sickles.

"It worked!" Wudas said, smiling with joy. As Vieta triumphantly held the screwdriver up, a tear dropped down his mask, and Nortis smiled slightly.

Walking over to her mechanic friend, Vieta put her arms around Wudas. "Thank you," she said, as joy erupted through her body. "You've given me my life back, Wudas."

"Oh, you don't have to thank just me," Wudas said, embarrassed. "Everyone in Vorza has been trying to help you get back to normal. I've just given you back a limb."

"Nevertheless, you've done something for me that I'll remember for centuries to come," Vieta said, smiling. "And that deserves my debt of gratitude." Slowly, she leaned forward towards Wudas's mask – when all of a sudden the guard named Majaro came into the machine shop.

"Um, excuse me, um, Vieta," he said nervously. "But, um, Luha says she needs to see you, um, immediately."

Looking away from Wudas quickly, Vieta nodded to Majaro. "I'll be there in a second, okay?" she said.

Nodding his head, Majaro saluted his commanding officer and left the shop, leaving her alone with Wudas and Nortis again. Without hesitating, Vieta gently kissed Wudas on his mouth, causing the red-armored mechanic's eyes to widen.

"Nice to see that someone's appreciated around here," Nortis said, sighing. "I guess not everyone can expect the same…"

Quickly, Vieta turned away from Wudas and kissed Nortis on the cheek of his mask, and she left the room without another word.

"Then again, maybe not," Nortis said, his eyes opening just a bit wider than normal.

Wudas said nothing, for his face was red with embarrassment. Never in all of his life had he recalled Vieta kissing anyone, and it was amazing enough that she had chosen him as the first recipient of that gift. But, at the same time, it caused a whole array of feelings to explode in his mind and heart, including several that he had never felt before. For, although he had been a friend to Vieta for nearly a hundred years, never before had he considered that he might actually have feelings for her that were deeper than that.

Growling as intensely as ever, Rytrax rushed towards the cliff overlooking the green valley he had been exploring. He had climbed down this cliff only hours ago, hoping that he would find other beings that he could demonstrate his great power to. Instead, he had found just one blue-armored creature, which had responded to his mad charge by knocking him out with surprising physical force. When he had awoken later, she was nowhere to be found, and he quickly decided that the valley was not the place for him.

The entire encounter greatly angered him – angered him in more ways than one. He had only been created about a day ago, and yet he had believed he was the strongest being in the strange land of his birth. That belief had now been shattered – and worse, it had been shattered by someone who had a far weaker energy power and was far smaller than him! It was, to say the least, extremely embarrassing, as well as incredibly infuriating.

It didn't matter anymore, though. The blue-armored being who had destroyed his confidence would not get another chance to defeat him, for he had no intention of ever coming back to the valley. Although he couldn't believe he was saying it, he was glad he was heading back to the endless stretches of sand and dust that he had been created out of. None of the beings he had fought there had been able to defeat him, and only one had even been a threat. Yes, it was a perfect place for a cruel, angry monster like himself to destroy things, and he was looking forward to spending more time in it.

Upon reaching the cliff wall he had been traveling towards, he rapidly began ascending the face of the rock with his clawed hands and sharp feet. His strength had already returned, and climbing the cliff was hardly a challenged for his muscular body to accomplish. But, as the cliff wall started to get steeper, he slowly lost his focus, to the point where his hands completely slipped off after attempting to grasp on particularly large rock. Before he could regain his balance, his feet slipped off as well, and he plummeted to the bottom of the valley and slammed into the ground.

When the dust cleared, Rytrax was lying on his back, groaning and trying in vain to move. It took all his strength just to stand up, and even then he could barely stay on his feet. He felt as though a huge boulder had slammed into his back, and his body ached all over.

"Having trouble?" a voice called out, as he faced the rock wall angrily. Turning around, he saw that a blue armored being was standing about five body lengths away from him, clutching two curved weapons in his hands. The being was covered in smooth, leaf-like protrusions, and he had a rather solemn and apathetic look on his ugly face.

"Why do you care?" Rytrax asked the new arrival angrily. "Stay out of my business and leave me alone, or I'll make sure that you can't question me any further."

"I'm not here to question you," the blue being said, looking rather unimpressed. "There's not much I don't already know about you, and if it was up to me, I wouldn't have even bothered coming out here."

"So, why did you?" Rytrax said, narrowing his eyes. "Are you so weak that you don't have any control over your actions, or are you just…"

Without so much as blinking, the blue armored being caused a geyser of water to erupt underneath Rytrax's feet, sending him flying up over the cliff and slamming him down upon the plateau.

Once again, Rytrax felt as though he had been hit with a huge object, except that now the pain was in his chest. Spitting out dust, he pulled himself out of the ground, turning around to look for the being who had hurled him up the cliff. Sure enough, he was coming right towards the spot where Rytrax had landed, riding on a wave of liquid that was rippling and splashing the ground around it. What was strange was that the blue being's power looked almost identical to the power of the being that had defeated him earlier! This made no sense to the being of Lava – how could two completely different looking creatures have powers that were so similar?

"You're even more impulsive and quick to judge than I thought," the blue being said, frowning. "I have greater power than you could ever imagine, and you would be wise not to anger me."

Trying to hide his amazement, Rytrax faced the blue being with a look of resentment on his face. "That still doesn't answer my question," he said. "If you have great power, why did you come here against your own will?"

The blue being sighed, "Because," he said slowly, "the will and power of my master is even greater, and angering him would be even worse for my health. There are many things you still have to learn, Krutoa, and one of them is that, no matter how strong you may be, there is always someone out there who is stronger"

"I'd like to challenge that statement," Rytrax said, as his hand began to glow with red-hot energy. "And what do you mean by 'Krutoa?'"

"Come with me, and you'll get both a chance to prove my words wrong and the answer to your question," the blue being said. "You have my word, for I, Masor, have never lied in all the centuries that I have been in existence."

Rytrax frowned. Something about this newcomer didn't comfort him a bit – but then again, barely anything had since he had been created. Besides, the blue-armored wielder of liquid seemed to want to help him, although that was more likely because of his master's orders.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Rytrax finally said, turning around. "Bring me to your master already – I have a lot of questions and a lot of lava if he can't answer them."

"Oh, he'll be able to answer them," Masor said, smiling slightly. "You just may not get the answers you like."

"How long is this going to take?" Vieta asked, as Luha led her and Mynor through the southern valleys of Rauga. Moments ago, Luha had said that she had been attacked by a strange new creature, but she hadn't yet told them what it looked like or where she had left it lying. This was frustrating to the blue-armored Zatoran commander, as she had been weary to leave the village ever since it had been attacked by two of the Yahzuhk days ago.

"Trust me, it's not much further," Luha said, as she rushed through the grasses and over hills. "I wasn't that far away from the village when the being attacked me."

"Perhaps it would help if you gave us a more detailed explanation," Mynor said, in his usual deep and wise voice.

Vieta frowned. "You of all people should be able to understand that, big guy," she said sarcastically. "After all, you're the one who still has so many secrets in that big head of yours, and…"

"Here we are!" Luha said," pointing to a part of the valley with several trees. As they came towards the area, Vieta realized that much of the grass was burnt and charred, and it sure didn't look like it had been that way for a while. If this was the result of Luha's mysterious attacker, what kind of powers did he have?

"This is where we fought," Luha said, heading over to one of the trees. "He almost killed me, but I was able to knock him out with my double pike, and then I left him right… here?"

"So, where is he?" Vieta asked, looking around suspiciously. "I don't see anyone."

"That's what I'm wondering," Luha replied. "I was sure that we'd be able to get here before we woke up, but I guess I was wrong."

"Well, since you can not show us your actual attacker now," Mynor said, "why don't you at least give us a description? What did he look like, and what are his powers?"

Luha sighed. "Well, his powers are pretty much like fire, except that they're in a liquid form. But, as for his appearance… well, he almost looks like… me."

"Almost?" Mynor said, looking far more concerned than he had a moment ago. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Luha said, "He had the armor and mask of a Toa, but he was far bigger and more jagged. His feet were sharper looking and more angled, and his armored was covered in spikes."

At Luha's final word, Mynor's eyes lit up, and his face grew extremely worried. "No, no, NO!" he shouted. "This can't be happening!"

"What can't be happening?" Vieta said, raising an eyebrow.

"Why, exactly what your guardian Luha has witnessed. That being she fought was not merely just another monster. No, I'm almost completely certain that it was one of her brother Toa."

Luha's eyes widened. Although she had seen the resemblance to herself in her mad attacker's form, she hadn't actually considered that he might be one of her brothers. He had been so evil looking and so angry that she hadn't wanted to consider that possibility –but the more she resisted it, the more she realized it was probably true.

"Wait, this doesn't make sense," Luha said. "Didn't you say that something bad would be happening to the second creation beam? If you knew this was coming, why are you so surprised? Or did you not think that the other three Toa would actually be harmed?"

"No, I knew that your other brothers and sisters would be hurt by the Yahzuhk's meddling," Mynor said. "But I had originally believed that they would simply attack the creation beam so that it would cause them to be formed far weaker and possibly even powerless."

He sighed. "But now, I've realized that I shouldn't have underestimated our enemies' deviousness. They've gone far deeper than simply hurting the other Toa, Luha. No, they have corrupted them - changed them so that their motivations are evil and their thoughts are clouded with anger."

"Are you absolutely positive about this?" Vieta said. "There's got to be some way to confirm or deny this."

Mynor frowned. "Yes, there is one way I know of – a way that will truly reveal the condition of the other Toa's minds and hearts." He turned to Luha. "When you were fighting this being," he said, "Did he refer to himself by a name?"

Concentrating hard, Luha tried to remember what had happened. "Yes, yes he did. He said that he was Rytrax."

Mynor sighed again. "Then, that confirms it. His very name has been corrupted by the Yahzuhk's tampering with the creation beam, which means only one thing."

He looked at Luha and Vieta solemnly, lowering his head. "My friends, the other guardians are no longer Toa. They are now Krutoa – champions of Darkness."

As the sun began to set over the sandy plains of his birth, Rytrax hastily followed the blue-armored creature called Masor towards what looked like a river of pure night. Black liquid was pouring out of an opening in one of the many mountains bordering the plains, and it formed a stream that traveled down the plains further than Rytrax could visibly see.

This, however, wasn't nearly as interesting to the being of Lava as the things camped on the riverside. In front of his eyes, nearly two dozen being with various odd-looking limbs were mingling among themselves, looking as though they had just stumbled on a major revelation. Their masked faces were wide with cruel grins, and none of them seemed like they cared that they were extremely ugly and weak-looking.

The other beings in the camp were just as interesting. At the very edge of the temporary settlement, five monstrous beings were waiting to greet him and Masor. One was short and black, another was red and thin, a third was tall, bulky and white, and a fourth was huge, green and hovered over the ground with two wings. The fifth, who was brown and had the most normal proportions, was obviously the leader, for he stood in front of the others and looked even more powerful than the rest.

Finally, at one of the corners of the camp, two other beings were sitting on rocks and looking rather bored and impatient. One Rytrax recognized – it was the creature of Acid that he had fought before going down into the valley. He remembered that her name was Karza, and he had never forgotten how close they were in appearance. But the other… he didn't recognize her, although she also looked similar to himself.

Whoever the white-armored being was, Rytrax knew he would find out soon, as she and Karza had stood up and were heading towards the five monsters. As he came closer to the camp, Masor went ahead and set himself down in front of the leading being.

"Here he is, as you commanded," Masor said, without a gleam of disrespect on his face.

"Ah, excellent," the brown being replied. Nodding, he dismissed Masor, who joined the other monsters behind their leader. Then, he turned to the Krutoa of Lava. "Welcome, Rytrax," he said, smiling. "I am Zahkraz, the leader of the Yahzuhk, and these are my brothers Tiroz, Eloh, Gytaz, Okmyon, and Masor. I am very glad that the latter convinced you to come – we have much to share with you about your lives."

"Good – I was getting tired of waiting here and doing nothing," Karza said, walking up towards Rytrax. "So, we meet again, being of fiery goop," she said to him. "It's a shame that I probably will never get another chance to melt you, as Zahkraz apparently thinks we'll be working together."

"What?!" Rytrax shouted. "There is no way I'm going to be working with you or with any other being who looks anything like me!"

"Perhaps your opinion will change once you give him a chance to speak," the white Krutoa said coldly, as she walked and joined the others. "Then again, I've only seen you for a few seconds, and already I can tell you're about as rational and controllable as a charging beast."

"I'll show control!" Rytrax yelled back. "I have enough control over my power that you'll melt before you have a chance to…"

"That won't be necessary," Zahkraz said, cutting him off. "We already know that you have great control over your element of Lava – but there are far more important things you, Karza, and Vidras must learn."

Vidras, Rytrax thought, calming down slightly. So, that must be the white being's name. I guess mine isn't the worst after all…

"So, are you going to tell us about ourselves or what?" Karza asked, scattering Rytrax's thoughts. "I didn't just come here to fantasize about melting your little villagers, you know."

"Oh no, that would not be good at all," Zahkraz said. "The Exiled Ones are still important in the battle for power in Mirazis, as are you, little Krutoa."

"Alright, what is with this term you keep using?" Karza said angrily. "If we are Krutoa, then what is that supposed to mean?"

"I was about to ask the same question myself," Vidras said.

Zahkraz smiled. "You will find the answer soon enough, Karza," he replied. "However, before you can understand the significance, you must first listen to my tale of this land and the beings who have inhabited it for thousands of years."

"As long as it isn't a long tale, fine," Rytrax said. "But be quick about it – we've been waiting long enough for an explanation."

Nodding his head, Zahkraz began to give the Krutoa a summary of the events that had transpired before their arrival. "Long ago, tens of thousands of years before you were created, the land you stand in now was a much different place. In those days, the beings known as Zatoran lived freely and frugally, cherishing their life as a great gift of nature. Although there were many dangerous beasts and creatures that shared the land with them, they were not fearful, nor did they long for the monsters to disappear. The everyday challenges that live gave ensured that they were kept fit and strong, and beings unworthy to live ceased to exist after only a short time in the wilderness. Best of all, the Zatoran were truly free – free to follow their own desires without anyone telling them otherwise."

The words of the leader of the Yahzuhk were pleasing to Rytrax's mind. "It sounds like the kind of place I'd feel right at home in," he said. "But you're saying it's not like this now?"

"No, not in the least," Zahkraz said, sighing sadly. "You see, exactly ten-thousand years ago, beings from another land came and established their presence in the home of the Zatoran. They called themselves the Acolytes, and they claimed they would bring a new age of peace and prosperity to the land. Giving their new kingdom the name Mirazis, they proceeded to eliminate almost all natural threats to the lives of the Zatoran, locking them up in prisons known as the Seven Holes of Darkness. After that, they established a village in the center of the valley, which soon became home to all the Zatoran."

"While I would prefer to live alone," Vidras said, "I can see why weaker beings would enjoy this new system of government."

"Yeah, especially since it meant they wouldn't be killed off," Karza said, sneering. "And to think the Acolytes were doing this all in the name of prosperity!"

Zahkraz laughed. "Well, that is the irony of it all, little Krutoa! For, although the Acolytes claimed they had the interests of the common people in mind, in reality they simply were power-hungry and corrupt tyrants that were eager to rule every aspect of the Zatoran's lives. They controlled the labor, they enforced guidelines on society's many positions, and they even created a series of ridiculous holidays that honored themselves and nothing else. And worst of all, any Zatoran that were found guilty of simply disagreeing with the Acolytes' leadership were exiled to a horrible wasteland known as Krall, where they were mutated into the horrible creatures you see behind me and my brothers."

Rytrax had heard enough. "Gah, what a despicable bunch of monsters!" he exclaimed. "Mirazis sounded so good until they came, and now they've ruined it all!" These beings were indeed tyrants, and he was glad he had not met them yet.

"Yes, is rather unsettling, isn't it?" Zahkraz replied. "However, you need not worry about the Acolytes any longer. On the eve of the ten-thousandth year of the rule, the tyrannical rulers of Mirazis perished against the force of Darkness, leaving the land free for the taking. That is why I and my brothers are here, and why we have freed the exiles of Krall. We seek to restore Mirazis to what it once was – a chaotic but satisfying land of freedom where the strongest shall live and the weakest shall die."

For the first time since his creation, Rytrax smiled. "Suddenly, I feel a whole lot better about coming here with your brother," he said.

"Yeah, you sound exactly like the being I'd want as a friend," Karza added. "If I ever had any friends in my life, I mean."

Zahkraz clapped his hands in satisfaction. "Good, very good. However, there are several other things you must know before you join our effort. Firstly, and most importantly – although the Acolytes are gone, the Zatoran of their 'sacred' village are still strong-willed and loyal to their former masters. They will fight bravely to defend their home against anyone who challenges their illegitimate rule."

"That should be no problem at all," Karza said, charging her hands with acid. "No, I'm sure they'll melt just as easily as all the beasts I've encountered in the plains since my creation."

"Yes, I expect you'll do just fine against them," Zahkraz agreed. "However, despite what you may wish, they are not alone in their fight. No, there are other beings out there who are allied with them – beings who are remarkably similar to themselves."

Rytrax frowned. "Wait – I met someone like that down in the valley! She was blue and thin and…"

"…Wielded a large pike and a water-like element?" Zahkraz finished. "Yes, I myself have fought the very being you encountered. She and her two brothers call themselves the Toa, which as you can tell is a shortened and watered-down version of the name I have referred to you by. They have corrupted the meaning of your name and have pledged themselves to a despicable cause, and they now fight for the Zatoran against all of the beings that stand before you today."

"So, they've given you pain as well?" Rytrax remarked.

Zahkraz sighed. "Very much so," he admitted. "But, it's not surprising in the least, considering that I created them."

The Krutoa were stunned. "You… you're their creator?" Karza asked, eyes wide with shock.

"Yes, and it grieves my heart that I did not do a good enough job of bringing them our side. I originally believed that, with their great powers, they would chose to join the cause of eradicating the weak without any of my guidance. Instead, they became champions of the feeble, and have fought against us ever since then."

He looked at the Krutoa seriously. "My friends, they are the reason that you have been struggling against your emotions and fighting amongst yourselves. When the found out that I was planning to create three more beings to fight for my side, they hijacked the beam of energy that created you and caused it to mutate you into monstrosities. This is why you must help me defeat them – they are giving life to the weak and hindering the life of the strong, all under a false premise of peace and prosperity."

Rytrax clenched his fists, shaking with anger at the words of the Yahzuhk's leader. "It all makes sense now," he said. Now I understand why I've felt so weird ever since I awoke on that miserable stretch of sand and dust. They tried to kill me! But I survived, and I still have great power!"

He faced Zahkraz with a vengeful gleam in his eyes. "Tell me, Zahkraz - how can I get the life I deserve? How can I gain control of my emotions and get rid of my mutations?"

"Yes, how can I get that as well?" Karza asked.

"Same here," Vidras added.

Zahkraz smiled comfortingly at the Krutoa. "The answer is very simple, my friends," he said. "Kill the Toa, and absorb their elemental powers into your bodies. Only with their death will you be healed, and only then will you be able to claim your place as rightful rulers of this land."

With the words of the Yahzuhk's leader spoken, the Krutoa now knew what their mission was in life. Moments ago, they had come to the camp with petty and scattered goals, never once believing that they would ever ally themselves with anyone. But now… now they had a purpose. No longer would they spend their days hunting little Rahi and melting plants into mush – now they were united under the cause of eradicating all the weak beings who currently ruled Mirazis, restoring it to the glorious land that it had once been. And when the Toa died, they would finally gain total control over their emotions and personalities, ensuring that they would triumph for as long as they lived.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Rytrax said to his fellow Krutoa, emerging his hands with Lava. "Let's give the fools down in the valley what they deserve for turning us into these monsters!"

Nodding their hands in agreement, Karza and Vidras followed Rytrax out of the camp, leaving the Yahzuhk alone with their army of ex-Zatoran.

"They won't win, you know," Okmyon said to Zahkraz, after the Krutoa had gone out of sight. "The Toa may be mere trivialities compared our power, but the Krutoa are inexperienced and untrained."

"Oh I know," Zahkraz agreed. "However, giving the Krutoa victory was not our purpose for today, nor will it ever be. We have simply given them a reason to fight Luha and her miserable brothers until they are weak enough for us to make our move."

He smiled. "Then, and only then will we be able to finally claim this land as ours," he said quietly, making sure the Exiled Ones did not hear him. "The Krutoa are merely another tool in our bid for power in Mirazis. Their lives do not matter, nor do the lives of anyone else. Only Darkness matters – and we are servants of the Darkness."

Tiroz grinned. "It's times like this that I really admire you, great leader," he said. "If the land of Mirazis ever sees another being as devious as you, I will indeed be very surprised."

Chapter Nine

Clashing Forces

The Defense Force of Vorza, known across the village as one of the finest displays of Zatoran discipline and readiness, was not doing well. Or at least, at least this was the view of a select few guards, most of them high ranking. On the other hand, if a stranger had asked any random low-ranking member of the Defense Force, the response would have most likely been positive. Most of the new recruits, who had come out of jobs varying from cooking to machine-work, were honored to serve as protectors of Vorza, even knowing their lives were at even greater risk than they were before they were promoted. And although many of the more experienced guards knew that the newcomers were lacking in skill and endurance, they were nevertheless happy to have more Zatoran helping them to defend the village.

But, aside from Vieta, the highest ranking members of the Defense Force were almost unanimously united in their disapproval of the new drafting procedures. It wasn't that they didn't want the ranks of the guard to grow – on the contrary, every time a new member was added, they always argued which commander would get the privilege of training the newcomer and adding him or her to their battalion. No, what bothered them was that, in their minds, many of the draftees under Vieta's new policy were simply not worthy of serving as defenders of Vorza. Whether it was a lack of discipline or some counter-productive habit, the various commanders were constantly finding flaws in many of the new members' personalities and character. Serving in the Defense Force for so long had caused many of the high-ranking guards to elevate themselves to a rather high level, and they found it hard not to be concerned about the draftees Vieta had chosen.

Nevertheless, they were still under the command of the famously feisty Zatoran of Protodermis, and thus they had no choice but to obey her and respect her decisions. This didn't stop them from complaining among themselves, but it did prevent their beliefs about the recent additions to the guard from taking preference over Vieta's. Needless to say, this greatly annoyed them – and it annoyed Unar more than anyone else.

Of course, it was only the nature of a high ranking guard like Unar to get irritated by "faulty drafting procedures," especially when the results were giving him a harder time than he could ever have imagined. Three days after the bizarre acid storm had retreated from Mirazis's skyline, he had reluctantly awoken to another morning of training recent draftees, expecting the worst from the new recruits as he instructed them in proper guard discipline. But, even his lowest expectations had not prepared him for the "absolute ineptness" of one of the recruits – namely Majaro, Wudas's former assistant.

"For the third time, you metal-headed Rata goat," Unar shouted, "I said left foot in, right arm forward!" As he faced his trainee angrily, the other new recruits held their positions and hoped that their commander would not notice their nervousness.

Majaro, on the other hand, was an expert in revealing his anxiety, as it always flowed right out of his response the second any higher ranking member of the Guard corrected him. "Um, I'm, um, sorry, commander, um, Unar," he stuttered, looking down at his feet.

"Look up here and face your commander, you fool!" Unar yelled. "I won't tolerate that kind of disrespect from you or anyone else, no matter how incompetent you are!"

Nodding his head slowly, Majaro looked into Unar's cold blue eyes, which pierced his nervous soul like a knife through a Bagoka fruit.

"There, that's better," Unar said, not really meaning it. In the past week since Majaro had been pulled out of his apprenticeship to Wudas and drafted into the Defense Force, he had shown no signs of improvement in any of the essential areas. He couldn't march, he couldn't hold a Korzon bullet launcher properly, and he certainly couldn't fight with a melee weapon. And worse, for some reason, some of the other guards had been coming to his defense, claiming that he actually had some "mystical unseen skill." A quick promise of barracks cleaning to the next objector had silenced Unar's critics, but it still irritated him that any guard would have the gall to talk about Majaro in any way that was less than fitting.

Regardless, Vieta had insisted that he would remain within the Defense Force, and thus Unar was stuck training him and watching his instruction fall on deaf ears. Sighing, he decided that enough was enough. If there was to be any improvement in Majaro's discipline, he would have to try a risky approach – one that he had rarely ever used in all the years he had been a commander of the Guard.

"Well, Majaro, I've just about given up on you," Unar said, looking his trainee in the eyes. "You've shown absolutely no improvement in any of the key areas you desperately need it in, and if the choice was mine, I would send you back to your comfortable little position under Wudas."

He turned away from Majaro, who was biting his forefinger nervously. "But I don't have that choice – however, I still have other options. You see, I think I've figured out what your problem is. Although you saved a villager's life in the first battle against the Yahzuhk, you haven't really been in any danger since then. You weren't a guard when we fought in the Cleansing Waters, and you were asleep when Okmyon and Gytaz attacked us five days ago. What little skill you may have had has been rotted away in a mound of inactivity."

Then, he turned back to Majaro, and crossed his arms. "That changes right now, Majaro. Today, you're going to fight for your life again."

Before Majaro or the crowd of guards could respond, Unar snapped his fingers and faced one of his other trainees. "Yimius, fetch me a Tironuim broadsword and two Protanium shortswords immediately."

"But sir," Yimius responded, "are you really..."

"I said now, Yimius, or you'll be next to fight me," Unar repeated harshly.

Without so much of a nod of his head, Yimius rushed off into the barracks, scurrying on his four legs like a Gretu mouse being chased by a Morog Bear. In less than 20 seconds, he returned with the three weapons Unar had requested, placing them down at the commander's feet.

Quickly picking up the broadsword, Unar gestured for Majaro to grab the other two weapons. "Don't take it as a gesture of sympathy that I'm giving you twice as many blades as myself," he said sternly. "All this means is that I'll be fighting twice as hard as I would if we were equally armed."

Looking even more nervous than he had before, Majaro gently picked up the Protanium shortswords and grasped them in two of his four hands.

"Now, watch yourself, Majaro," Unar said, raising his broadsword slightly.

"Um, sir," Majaro began, "um, do you…"

"Yahhhhhhh!" Unar screamed, lunging forward with his broadsword and attempting to slice one of Majaro's arms off. The crowd of guards gasped as the blade hurtled towards its target, wondering if their commander had truly lost his mind.

The moment before the sword connected with the metal of his arm, Majaro raised up his shortswords and blocked Unar's blow. He breathed a sigh of relief and wiped his mask with one of his free hands.

"Very good," Unar said. "But we've only just begun." Screaming again, he attempted to deliver another blow to Majaro's arm. Again, the nervous guard managed to block it, his eyes widening as he held up his weapons in defense.

Then, the battle truly began. Without a moment's hesitation between blows, Unar slashed at Majaro furiously, never once letting down his assault. The silver shine of his broadsword clashed with the bronze metal of Majaro's shortswords, as he attempted to cleave his student's limbs off with his weapon.

Somehow, despite his lack of experience, Majaro managed to block every single blow from his commander, even as his eyes grew wider yet. His limbs tightened with each strike, and his grip on his swords tightened with every passing second. Still, he held on, never once letting his guard down.

Finally, Unar began to lessen his assault, and the space between his blows increased. Soon, he had retreated entirely, lowering his sword and facing Majaro with a look of satisfaction in his face.

"I knew I was right about you, Majaro," Unar said, smiling slightly. "I knew I was…"

"Hiy-yah!" Majaro screamed, lunging his two shortswords forward. As they struck Unar's broadsword, he twisted them so that they wrenched his commander's weapon out of his hands. It clunked to the ground a few feet away, leaving Unar defenseless.

Immediately, Majaro stood back, and he lowered his swords and gazed at Unar anxiously. He could only imagine the anger that was burning in his commander's heart, and he knew he would be paying dearly for his impulsive strike.

It took all of Unar's control to keep himself from lashing out at Majaro, for the trainee had just embarrassed him in front of an entire battalion. Instead of shouting angrily, however, he gritted his teeth and spoke calmly to the new guard. "Very… good," he said slowly, trying to hide the fire in his eyes. "For that, you've earned yourself a break, as well as my…. congratulations. You've done something that only two other people have accomplished since I became a commander – for only Vieta and Olan have been ever able to disarm me until now. Just remember, Majaro, there is no turning back from this day, and from now on I'll be expecting you to function as well as any second rank guard."

"Um, thank you, um sir," Majaro said quietly. Immediately after, he dropped his swords and rushed off – only to bump straight into another guard, who had just come out of an alleyway.

"Oof, watch it you maniac!" the guard said angrily, brushing Majaro off and walking towards Unar.

Sighing, the commander tried hard not to slap his forehead in disgust, and he faced the other guard emotionlessly. "What is it, Lavos?" he said apathetically.

The guard didn't hesitate for a second. "Sir, he said, "We're being attacked by three strange Toa-like beings."

At the mention of the word Toa, Unar's eyes widened. "What do you mean, Toa-like beings?" he shouted. "If this is a joke, Lavos, you're as good as…"

Before he could finish, the sky above the guards was lit up by a blast of what looked like lava. The scorching liquid slammed into the barracks, melting the door and part of a window.

Without so much as gasping, Unar narrowed his eyes and turned towards his guards. "Everyone – grab your weapons and head to the scene of the battle immediately!" he shouted. He turned towards the alleyway. "And Majaro, forget about the break – you head over as well!"

Quickly, all off the guards obeyed – including Majaro, who ran back and clumsily scooped up the shortswords that Unar had given him.

Shaking his head, Unar went over to the side of the barracks and picked up his tri-staff, muttering about how he had been at a disadvantage against Majaro without his favorite weapon. Inside, he wasn't as upset about the loss as he was that Majaro had gotten the better of him in front of a bunch of new recruits. In the eyes of most, Unar rivaled the best guards in the Defense Force as one of the finest warriors in Vorza, nearing even Vieta's level of expertise. This incident would no doubt hurt his reputation if the word got out, and he wasn't about to let that happen.

But, as any experienced guard member could tell from experience, the safety of Vorza mattered to Unar even more than the status of his fame – for it was through the protection of his home that he had gained his self-worth. If these Toa-like beings were trying to destroy it, than he would be there, making sure that they would not have a chance to ruin what he had lived for his entire life.

Twirling a wooden replica of her double pike, Luha braced for impact as her foe charged her. As he swung his huge fists at the Toa of Protodermis, she used her pike as a lever and launched herself backwards, unleashing a blast of liquid at her combatant's face. Without so much as hesitating, the giant shrugged the blast off like it was nothing and charged again. This time, Luha caused a geyser of water to erupt underneath her feet, propelling her behind the titan and allowing her to swing her double pike at him.

Turing around in a flash, the titan grabbed the pike with one of his fists and jerked it upward, lifting Luha into the air and causing her to slam into the ground several Fios away.

Now, without her weapon, Luha realized that she was now at an even greater disadvantage than before. "I'm starting wish I had never let this happen," she thought, as her foe prepared to charge again. "There's practically nothing I can do to stop this being – he's both stronger and faster than me, and he shrugs off my protodermis like they are nothing! If I can't find a way to stop him, I'll lose far more than my reputation…"

But, there was no denying the fact that Luha was nearly powerless against her foe – for he was someone who only hours ago had been friend. Against all that she had expected, she was now fighting Mynor, the titan who had come to her village with an offer of friendship instead of war. It was now a few days later, and their relationship had not changed. Yes, they had gone out into the grassy fields north of Vorza as allies, walking peacefully across the fields and conversing with each other peacefully.

However, in just a few short minutes, her alliance with the crimson-armored giant had been thrown away, and she was now facing him in the most ferocious battle she had had with anyone in Mirazis. Her muscles were strained and her breathing was frantic, and the ferocious part of her element and personality was now out in full force. She felt as though she was truly fighting for her life unlike ever before, and she truly didn't know whether she would have the strength to succeed.

As Mynor rushed towards her, she brushed off her thoughts and readied an attack of her own. With a great cry, she released a huge wave of protodermis towards the armored titan, which would have been enough to send even the mightiest of Rahi running for safety. But Mynor simply charged on, plowing through the wave like it was air and slamming his first into Vieta's shoulder. Groaning in pain, she smashed into the ground again and fell into unconsciousness.

The next thing she knew, she was being picked up by Mynor, who appeared to be feeding a mystical red energy into her body. Laying her back on the trunk of a tree, he stood back and lowered his head.

"What were you thinking, Luha?" he said, frowning. "I thought you would have had a better mastery of your element by now, but it appears I was wrong."

"Wha… what do you mean by that?" Luha asked groggily. "I launched enough protodermis at you to flood an entire row of houses in Vorza – is that not a sign of my power?"

"Obviously not, since it didn't stop me from crushing your shoulder," Mynor replied. "Power and mastery are two very different things – I of all beings would know that, seeing as that it takes mastery of my power in order to heal even light injuries like this."

He shook his head. "But, I guess I shouldn't have overestimated you. Although you can control your element well, you have not yet fully gained the skill to apply the variations of your element to different situations. In time, you will learn when it is best to use a wave of liquid protodermis to push back a foe, and when it is better to instead block his attacks with a wall of solid protodermis."

Without realizing what she was doing, Luha began to laugh, but she quickly coughed and straightened her face. "Oh, I'm sorry Mynor," she said, "but I'm afraid I'm just rather confused about what you said. What do you mean, solid protodermis?"

Mynor frowned. "I don't believe this," he muttered. "You don't understand, do you?"

"No, I'm afraid I don't," Luha acknowledged. "My element has always been a force of liquid, and…"

"No, that's not true at all," Mynor said. "And why are you so certain of your beliefs, Luha? Tell me, have you ever witnessed protodermis in any form besides as the result of your willpower?"

Luha thought for a moment, before shaking her head. "Now that I think of it, I don't believe I have," she said. "Although the Zatoran drink a liquid similar to mine every day, they refer to it as 'water,' not 'protodermis.' Are you saying that my element is different?"

"In a word, yes," Mynor replied. "You see, Protodermis is not actually a liquid at all – or at least, not entirely. In its purest form, your element is simply a manifestation of an invisible form of energy known as dermis, which in my master's language means 'matter of all phases.' This energy flows throughout everything in nature, and yet it is not directly attached to the things it inhibits."

Luha frowned. Try as she might, she was finding it hard to understand Mynor's strange words, although she desperately wanted to know what he meant. "So," she said slowly, "are you saying that my element is not really water, but rather something that inhabits water and the other things in this world?"

"Actually, the best way of putting it is that it makes up all the empty space in the matter of the world, and thus prevents Mirazis from being largely made up of an empty vacuum. You could call it an insulator of sorts – as it keeps energy from escaping the matter it surrounds and from allowing the entire world to fall apart. Luha, Protodermis is what gives the world its solidity and its strength, and as such you control what may be the greatest physical force in the entire land of Mirazis."

Luha's mouth dropped in amazement. "You are saying I have the most powerful element?" she asked. Up until now, she had believed that the power she had was merely just an average force of nature – an element no greater than Jorvak's storms or Ebsmod's Tar. Yes, she had grown rather attached to it, but she wasn't about to view her power as greater than the powers of her brothers. She simply couldn't see how her "water" was really that special at all – at least until now.

"Wait, that still doesn't answer my question," she said. "I know now that my element is far more complex than I originally thought, but I still only know how to create liquid. Is there a way to create solid protodermis as well?"

Mynor nodded. "This is why the name for your element means "matter of all phases." Because your power is simply energy in its most basic form, it is able to manifest any of the three phases of matter – solid, liquid, and gas."

He motioned for Luha to stand up. "Come," he said, "and I will show you what I mean."

Slowly, Luha willed herself to get up off the tree trunk Mynor had set her on. She stretched her limbs, which were still aching from the blow the armored titan had landed on her body.

"Now," Mynor began, "In order to change the phase of your element, you must focus deeply on the tiny particles that it consists of. But first, unleash a blast of water normally, so you will be able to tell the difference when you attempt to change the phase later."

Nodding her head, Luha exerted the tiniest fraction of her power, which formed into a stream of liquid protodermis and blasted the grass in front of her.

"As you can see," Mynor continued, "this does not require barely any effort at all. Because liquid is the central phase, it automatically is created if you do not exert any control over the particles that make up protodermis."

"Okay," Luha acknowledged. "But how am I supposed to change the phase if it starts out as a liquid?"

"You will see," Mynor said. "And I believe the best way to practice this to continue our battle."

Stepping backwards, he set himself up to charge at Luha again. "This time, when I attack you, focus your control over your element as you unleash a wave of protodermis. Imagine the tiny grains of energy that make it up contracting and tightening, to the point where they take on a solid form. Now focus!" he shouted, as he began to rush towards her.

As Mynor quickly approached, Luha carefully followed the crimson giant's instruction. Starting the process in which she usually unleashed a wave of liquid, she instead exerted her control over the individual molecules that made up the protodermis, forcing them to push together.

The second before Mynor's great fist slammed into her, she unleashed the wave of protodermis in front of her, which instantly solidified and formed a wall that held against Mynor's giant hand

Mynor smiled. "Now you're beginning to get it, Luha," he said encouragingly. "With practice, you will be able to master this new form of your element as well, which has just as many practical applications as its liquid phase."

He turned towards the village of Vorza, which was south of where they were practicing. "Speaking of which," he said, "it looks as though you may be getting some real experience very soon." He pointed to a lone figure that was running towards them frantically.

Quickly, Luha ran to meet the figure, who she recognized as the scout named Minala. "What's going on?" she asked the villager, who looked as though she had seen a ghost.

Gasping for breath, Minala hastily explained the situation to Luha. "Huge…scary… beings…attacking Vorza!" she stuttered. "Armored…masked…wielding elemental powers…and want nothing but destruction!"

Luha narrowed her eyes. "It looks like Rytrax is back," she said to Mynor.

"And worse, he's brought the other two Krutoa," Mynor said, as he joined Luha and Minala. "I had hoped that it would take some time before they were united in their stand against good, but it looks as though I was wrong again."

"Whatever the case, it looks as though you'll finally be getting a chance to prove yourself to the Zatoran," Luha said, sending Minala back to the village. Without another word, she began to follow the Zatoran back to Vorza – but when she looked over her shoulder for a second, she realized Mynor was not following.

"Aren't you going to help us?" she called out. "I thought you said you would be an ally in our fight against the enemies of Mirazis!"

Mynor shook his head. "Normally, I would agree with you," he acknowledged. "However, the revelation that the Krutoa are working together can mean only one thing – they have been enlisted under the Yahzuhk's command. Fortunately, although we know of their secret weapon, the Yahzuhk do not know of me yet, and I believe it would be best to our advantage if we keep my existence a secret for now. There will no doubt come a time when I will join you in the frontlines against our foes, but until the right time comes I feel I must stay in the shadows."

At first, Luha didn't know what to think. Although Mynor's words did make some sense to here, it seemed odd that he wasn't willing to actively battle against the Krutoa and Yahzuhk. Yes, he was helping the village of Vorza in other, indirect ways, but it still felt like a rather strange excuse, especially since there was little chance a being of his power would perish so easily.

But, Luha knew that there would probably be no changing Mynor's mind, not even if she spent time trying to convince him to join the fight. And time was something Vorza could not waste – not when three corrupted Toa were attacking it with no restraint or remorse.

So, reluctantly, she left Mynor in the field and headed back to Vorza, preparing to fight against her twisted brothers without the aid of the armored giant. There would be time later to discuss Mynor's strange ways – but right now, she had a village to protect.

Screaming, Rytrax unleashed a huge blast of lava at one of the structures in the village of Vorza, burning it to the ground and leaving nothing but ashes. The fiery liquid scorched the sides of the buildings around his target, melting them as well. Pleased, but hardly satisfied, he moved onto his next target, creating more lava as he charged through the streets

Less than five minutes had passed since he and the other two Krutoa had entered the village that Zahkraz had said was the home of the Zatoran. Knowing that they and their guardians had turned them into the hulking monsters that they were, they were eager to destroy as much of the sacred locale as possible. And destruction they had caused – around them, dozens of buildings had been turned into rubble, puddles of acid, and burnt ash by their respective powers. Try as they might, the Zatoran who inhabited this village were powerless against them, as their acid, lava, and crystal destroyed living things just as easily as inert matter.

Despite this, however, the Krutoa were still confused about one thing – or at least, Vidras was. While her brother and sister were utterly controlled by their emotions and impulses, she had enough will over her personality that she was able to both participate in the destruction and to survey the situation. This had lead her to the realization that, while the Zatoran were indeed present, the three Toa that had rebelled against their creator Zahkraz were not. This was strange – all that the leader of the Yahzuhk had said had made it evident to her that the guardians of this village were fiercely protective of the Zatoran. If they truly wanted the weak to continue living their miserable lives, why were they not present ensuring that she and her fellow Krutoa would not be able to eradicate their object of "compassion?"

Then, the answer hit her – or rather, it hit Rytrax in the form of a giant hand of solid matter. The red Krutoa flew backwards and nearly crashed into Vidras, and it was only a quick exertion of her own hard element that protected her from his hulking body.

"What was that?" Karza spat, without even taking a second to check on Rytrax. "That looked kinda like your element, Vidras."

"No, it's not," Vidras replied, pointing north. "Not when the wielder looks like she does."

Up the street, three tall and elegant looking beings were rushing towards the Krutoa, weapons and elemental powers at the ready. Although Vidras wasn't one-hundred percent sure of their identity, the mere fact that they had elemental powers told her that they were the beings Zahkraz had mentioned. None of the Zatoran had exhibited any powers in the moments since she and the other Krutoa had attacked, while these new beings had attacked Rytrax with a strange, rock-like element the second they had appeared.

"We'll, it looks like we won't be getting some sleep any time soon," one of the beings said, sighing. He was green and wielded a curved blade on one of his hands.

"From the looks of it, we still slept more than we should have," the black-armored being next to him replied. "If we had awoken sooner, we probably would have been able to keep these… these monsters, from burning down half the village!"

"There's nothing we can do about it now," the middle being said. She matched the description Rytrax had given of the being that he had fought in the fields south of the village. "Nothing, that is, except protect what's left of Vorza."

"I'll be happy to ensure your failure!" Rytrax shouted, pulling himself up from the ground. Already, he had regained his strength, and his face was twisted into a snarl.

The blue-armored Toa sighed. "Does it really have to come to this, Rytrax?" she pleaded. "Do you really have to let your emotions control you like…"

Before she could finish, she received a reply from the red-armored Krutoa in the form of blast of lava, which she gracefully avoided by somersaulting out of the way.

"I guess we got his answer," the green-armored Toa said, frowning. "Good thing, because now I have a real reason to attack these creeps."

"In other words," the black being added, "no one tries to burn our sister to the ground while we're present, Krutoa."

"Oh, there will be plenty of time for that later," Karza said, grinning madly. "But for now, you two will do just fine." Laughing, she sprayed large quantities of acid out of her hands , which burned though the ground as the two Toa jumped out of the way.

Rejoining their blue-armored sister, the green and black Toa charged and launched blasts of cold white matter and thick, black goo at the Krutoa, who themselves now had to run for cover.

Now, the battle truly began. As the two groups of beings clashed, elemental blasts flew this way and that, turning the southern side of the village into a multi-colored arena. The Toa bounded across rooftops and over market stands, landing blows of their weapons on the Krutoa that were met with swaths of razor-sharp crystal, burning acid, and fiery lava. The Toa themselves use their own elemental powers, combining them in various creative ways.

In fact, as Vidras fought alongside her fellow and Krutoa, she was finding it hard not to marvel at the Toa's ingenuity in using their powers. While she, Karza, and Rytrax were seemingly limited to using simplistic blasts, balls, or waves of their element, the three Toa were far more resourceful. Whether creating a hail of stone-like projectiles that stunned Karza momentarily, forming a hand of black liquid that carried Rytrax straight through a wall, or sending a painful electric charge into her own body through the liquid that was beneath her feet, they were able to turn any disadvantaged location into a strategic position. Vidras dearly wondered why she and her fellow Krutoa were unable to use their own powers in such unique ways, as they were severely lacking in that department.

But, although the Krutoa were simplistic in their methods, they still had the upper hand in both brute force and sheer endurance. Indeed, even as the Toa landed attack after attack upon their spiky armor, Rytrax, Karza and Vidras were never out of commission for more than a few seconds. It seemed as though they were powered purely by the anger in the hearts and minds, which continued to flow even as their bodies grew weaker.

Seeing that she and her brothers were disadvantaged, the blue Toa quickly called for a different plan of action. "Jorvak, Ebsmod, this isn't working!" she shouted over the turmoil.

"I agree, Luha," Ebsmod said, as he dodged a blast of crystal from Vidras. "If we are to have even a temporary victory over these beasts, we need to rely on our advantages – especially the ones we have yet to utilize!"

"The Kanohi masks?" Jorvak exclaimed. "Are you sure that's wise, especially since we've already used so much of our elemental powers?"

"It's probably the only way," Ebsmod replied. "And personally, I'm not nearly as tired out as you may think I am."

"Then let's do this, brothers," Luha said, motioning for Jorvak and Ebsmod to defend her. Closing her eyes, she began to glow and levitate into the air, and her body began to ripple much like the liquid that she was able to create.

Realizing that something bad was about to happen, Vidras shouted at her fellow Krutoa. "Rytrax, Karza, we've got stop her before she uses that magic against us!"

"Firstly," Rytrax said, dodging blasts of black liquid and cold ice from Ebsmod and Jorvak, "I'm a little busy! And secondly, I don't take orders from anyone – especially a weak female like yourself!"

"Weak female?" Karza shouted back. "You'll be a puddle of acid before you can say something like that again, Rytrax!"

Vidras snarled, as she dodged a hail of electricity from Jorvak. "No, no, you two!" she screamed. "She's going to do something if we don't stop her now!"

But, she realized it was too late, for Luha had already completed her transformation. Now, she was hovering in the air like a ghost, turned into the very element that she controlled. Her body was now made out of liquid, and the glow of her eyes was replaced by rippling dots of fluid. Screaming in a voice that sounded like water, she plowed straight into Vidras and caused the Krutoa to fly out of the village and to slam into the ground.

Soon, the other two Toa had transformed as well, becoming incarnations of icy wind and bubbling black goo. Shouting in their own unique elemental voices, they soared into the remaining two Krutoa and sent them hurling into their white-armored sister.

"I'll say it again, Rytrax!" Luha shouted, as she and her brothers hovered in front of the village. "If you don't leave this place and never return, I'll make sure that you never have another chance to kill a single blade of grass!"

"And that goes double for your wretched sisters," Jorvak added. "Especially the one that can't do anything except melt huts."

At first, the Krutoa refused to leave, and instead wearily pulled themselves up and stood their ground in the field of grass. But, as the Toa frowned and began to inch towards their bodies again, they quickly lost the desire to head back into the village.

"Let's get out of here," Rytrax said, frowning. "They've had their moment of triumph, but the second I gain enough strength to ward off their mystical powers, I'll be back for more."

"We'll all be back," Vidras said, turning around and heading for the cliff to the south. "Back to claim our freedom from these miserable mutations, and from the monsters who gave them to us."

As night arrived and hid the wreckage of Vorza's southern edge from view, the Toa laid their tired bodies against the surface of a damaged hut, sighing a breath of relief that their fight against the Krutoa was over for the day.

"What a horrible day," Jorvak groaned, resting his sickle on the ground. "First we find out that our brothers and sisters have been mutated, then the same beings proceed to destroy all the huts that the Zatoran just finished repairing…"

"We know, Jorvak," Luha said, groaning as well. "And yet, it's still so hard to believe. Even as we fought against the Yahzuhk and the Exiled Ones a week ago, I never thought we'd also end up fighting beings who were meant to be our allies."

She began to cry. "This is just so hard... we're not merely facing an outside foe – we're facing our brothers and sisters. We're facing part of our own kind – and by fighting them, I feel as though I'm tearing out part of my own heart!"

"I feel the same way," Ebsmod said, sighing. "And worse, the conflict isn't over yet. You heard the Krutoa speak – they'll be back eventually, and I'm sure the Yahzuhk will be encouraging them all the while."

As the Toa reflected sadly on the battle and their future, they were interrupted by a company of Zatoran, which was lead by the guard named Kitao.

"Oh, good, you're back," Kitao said. "We had to evacuate the southern part of the village, and we weren't sure whether it was safe to come out or not. Thank you for defeating those monsters, Toa."

"Oh, we haven't defeated them," Luha replied. "We've just stalled them momentarily."

"Then, thank you for stalling them," Kitao said. "Unfortunately, that doesn't eliminate the fact that they destroyed about a fourth of the huts in Vorza – as well as all the supplies and belongings that were contained within."

"I know, and we'll have to work extra hard to repair all of them," Ebsmod acknowledged. "In fact, if there isn't anything else you have to report, than we should probably begin…"

"Actually, there is something else," Kitao said quietly.

"Then what is it?" Ebsmod said, looking a bit annoyed.

Kitao's face grew nervous. "Well, you see… we can't find Mynor. He's disappeared!"

Chapter Ten

Searching for Truth

Gazing into the night sky, Tiroz reclined lazily on the sandy shores of the Tar River, tapping his fingers against his two metal stabbers in a slow but rhythmic motion. His eyelids sagged slightly over his glowing eyes, and he began to sink into a daze. Quickly, however, he woke himself, frowning and shaking his head.

To the Exiled Ones who were watching Tiroz with curiosity, it appeared as if the fiery Yahzuhk had grown rather tired over the past few hours, to the point where it seemed as if he was having trouble staying awake. This was in fact false – a merely speculative observation on the ex-Zatoran's part. The mystical powers that had given Tiroz his elemental powers had long ago removed his need for rest. The nightmarish and rather limiting conditions of sleep no longer had reign over him or the other Yahzuhk, rendering any sort of secret ambush utterly useless against them.

But, even if he had needed sleep at some point in the 10000 plus years of his existence, it certainly wouldn't have been now. Since the battle against the Zatoran and their pitiful guardians over a week ago, Tiroz had seen absolutely no combat of any form. Oh, there had been plenty of walking, and even a bit of elemental power usage, but nothing that would have served to tire him out in the least. No, the real reason Tiroz looked rather sleepy was, simply, because he was incredibly and immensely bored.

"This is ridiculous!" he shouted, smashing one of his weapons into the sand. "Why in the miserable bowels of the Holes of Darkness did we let those untrained, unprepared scions of Rage leave the camp? Now we're stuck here doing nothing until they are humiliated by the Toa and have the sense to come back!"

"Thank you for reminding us, Tiroz," Okmyon said sarcastically. "You've done a great service to us all. Especially, since if the Krutoa were anywhere within five miles from this camp, they won't ever come back after they've heard your less-than-secretive ramblings about our real view of their condition!"

"Then it will be a great relief to you that they're at least ten miles away from us at the moment," Zahkraz said from on top of a hill of sand. "The two of you would be wise to not make such harsh judgments when the authority to rectify any supposed problems is not yours. Or did neither of you learn anything in the 10000 years you were in the aforementioned Holes of Darkness?"

Tiroz sighed. "Yes, I apologize, great master, he said sincerely. "I just don't see the logic of letting the Krutoa fight the three guardians of Vorza when we know they will lose."

"Logic means nothing if you haven't spend thousands of years studying it like I have," Zahkraz replied, smiling slightly. "That is why you have always left the thinking part of our plan to me, Tiroz. Some beings are simply better off incinerating villagers than contemplating why they must be destroyed and why their brothers must be enslaved."

"And some beings are better off rotting in empty prisons of shadow until they no longer have the strength to incinerate anything!" a voice called out, startling the Exiled Ones and even several of the Yahzuhk.

"Who was that?!" Gytaz cried, lifting off the ground with his wings and scanning the darkness for the source of the voice. "Are the Toa that stupid to come here and face me?"

"That was no Toa's voice, you fool," Okmyon said from below. "Granted, it has the same unrestrained boldness and nonsensical courage, but it's far too deep and rugged to be the tone of a three week old creation."

"Courage is only nonsensical to beings who have none, you cowardly spawn of Darkness!" the mysterious voice called out again.

Tiroz smiled. "Says the being who is using the darkness of night to hide himself from view!" Tiroz shouted, trying to light up the area with his power of heat. "Or are you as much a hypocrite as ever, Mynor?"

This time, the reply was not the sound of courageous defiance, but of giant feet stomping across the sand. In moments, the source of the voice had come into view, causing the Yahzuhk to both smile widen their eyes slightly.

"So, it seems that not even the death of your masters and the destruction of their fortress was enough to deter you from your 'righteous' goal, Mynor," Zahkraz said, baring his teeth. "It's such a shame that your survival will not be enough to ensure the salvation of Mirazis."

Mynor snarled. "As if you six would know anything about salvation," he said harshly. "All your lives since you claimed the sacred power of the Forces of Nature for your covetous hearts, you have done nothing but ruining the existence of others, all the while claiming that you are the way to ultimate power."

His face grew even more angry. "But, as if killing my masters wasn't enough, you and your monstrous Darkness now have now committed even a worse sin. You have taken the hearts of beings meant to serve and have turned their thoughts into amoral dribble. You have turned would-be heroes into menaces, sending them against the very creatures who they were meant to protect! You have corrupted light into darkness, good into evil – and I will not have any more of it!"

"What a noble speech, Mynor," Zahkraz said, continuing to smile. "And yet, so very foolish. Do you honestly think that you, a single being, can defeat six who share power equal to and even greater than yours?"

"I never said anything about defeating you," Mynor replied. "I'm simply here to give you a message – your evil will no longer be tolerated now that I am in Mirazis."

"Evil, huh?" Okmyon said, laughing. "You mean evil… like this?" In a flash, the black Yahzuhk had unleashed his power upon the ground underneath Mynor's feet, causing the red titan to fall into the hole that was created.

Griping their weapons, the Yahzuhk began to spread out and surround the hole. However, before any of them were prepared, their crimson-armored foe leaped out of the pit in a single bound and smashed onto the ground, unleashing precisely aimed boomerangs of energy at each of them.

As the Yahzuhk picked themselves up, Mynor lurched forward, slamming his fists into the closest target. As the metal of his hands met Eloh's body, he executed a complex series of moves that kept the white Yahzuhk suspended in the air. The titan juggled Eloh like he was merely the size of a Zatoran, finishing his assault by slamming the Yahzuhk into the ground with a fistful of energy. Eloh slumped to the ground, groaning and unable to move his limbs.

Now, with one of their brothers taken out of combat, the Yahzuhk knew they had to act. Gytaz was the first to strike, using his power to create a cloud of gaseous poison around Mynor's head. Mynor quickly held his breath, but as he reacted to the toxic attack, Tiroz unleashed a blast of concentrated heat around Mynor's body, weakening him enough for Masor to strike him with a fist made of water.

Mynor's response to the attack was to raise up a shield of energy that not only blocked the hand of water but cut off Gytaz' and Tiroz's elemental assaults. As the toxic gas and wave of heat dissipated, he charged again and unleashed blasts of energy at their creators. Both of them flew backwards across the camp – Gytaz smashing into a rock spire and Tiroz falling straight into the Tar river.

By now, the Exiled Ones had all run for cover, although they were reluctant to leave the scene entirely. As they watched from a safe distance, they were both awed and disgusted by the being who was fighting the Yahzuhk. Although they had recently pledged their lives to the philosophy that might made right, they sure did not want the mightiest being in Mirazis to be one who served weaker creatures and protected their downfall. The problem was, as far as they could tell, that was exactly what Mynor had come to do – starting with eliminating the only beings who had the strength and mercilessness to restore Mirazis to its chaotic past.

Their thoughts soon began to change, however, as the Yahzuhk intensified their attacks upon Mynor. Already, Eloh had recovered and had rejoined the battle, and Gytaz and Tiroz were not far behind. Blast of fire, water, ice, poison and pure power flew across the battlefield toward Mynor, who continued to either deflect them with his energy shield or dodge them entirely.

However, Okmyon had the biggest advantage against Mynor. While the powers of his brothers were all launched straight at the titan, his attacks came from below. Ripping up chunks of ground with his power of Tremors hindered Mynor's defense slightly, enough that Masor was able to get another fist of water through the titan's wall of energy. It slammed into his mask and knocked him to the ground, leaving him open to attack.

And an attack indeed came, in the form of Gytaz's deadly poison cyclone. The green Yahzuhk had successfully used it to end the life of a Zatoran days before, but eliminating a being as powerful as Mynor would be far more satisfying to his violent heart. As the cyclone of pure toxin whirled straight toward the crimson titan, he couldn't help but laugh loudly at his foe's approaching fate.

Then, out of nowhere, the green Yahzuhk's eyes were lit up with a blast of energy, which exploded over his face and knocked him to the ground. With his concentration gone, the cyclone of poison began to spin straight towards Tiroz and Masor, who barely had time to leap to safety. The cyclone hurled forward and smashed into a rock spire, which tumbled to the ground and nearly crushed Okmyon, Zahkraz and Eloh in the process.

As the Yahzuhk recovered again, Mynor leaped into the air and slammed his fists down into the ground, creating a shockwave of energy that knocked the Yahzuhk off their feet. Charging, he unleashed another hail of energy boomerangs, which barreled into his foes bodies and repeatedly struck them with their concentrated power. Satisfied, Mynor retracted the projectiles, which absorbed back into his body and disappeared with a flash.

Standing up slowly, the Yahzuhk faced Mynor angrily, snarling and grasping their weapons tightly. Mynor stood his ground, looking at his foes with utter contempt. Although neither side would soften their stance, both showed obvious signs of tiring – which just minutes ago had seemed impossible to Tiroz. Mynor's power of Valor had temporarily weakened their evil hearts, and they had no desire to continue the fight.

But, neither did Mynor, who lowered his head and sighed. "Why did it have to come to this?" he said sadly. "Must you be slaves to the Darkness that fills your hearts? Do you not remember what your lives used to be like before you turned against my masters?"

"Yeah," Tiroz said. "They were pitiful – just as the life of any servant of the Acolytes is."

"Tiroz speaks the truth," Zahkraz agreed. "But, you wouldn't understand, old friend. You are far too blinded by the foolish concepts of morality and honor that the Acolytes embedded into your brain. You are just as much a slave as you claim we are, and you will continue to be until Darkness overtakes the entire land of Mirazis. Then, not even you will be able to struggle against the might of our master, and your heart will be freed from the bondage of Light – just as we were freed so long ago."

"Don't be mistaken, Zahkraz," Mynor replied. "As you've said many times in the past, one little fight does not make the battle, and one battle does not make the war. I will be back – and when I return, you will truly get the fate that has been coming to you since the day you rebelled against my masters so many years ago."

Without another word, Mynor disappeared into the darkness, even as some of the Yahzuhk prepared to blast him with their power. But Zahkraz shook his head, insisting that they restrain themselves from an ill-advised attempt to end the armored titan's life.

"There will be another time to finish this battle," the leader of the Yahzuhk said. "Attacking him now would only enlighten his misguided belief that we are cowards – and that will only serve to embolden his stance against us."

"True, very true," Okmyon agreed, nodding his head. "And besides, we'll need plenty of our power if we're going to be able to train the Krutoa when they get back."

"And just when I had forgotten about that," Tiroz said, sighing. "Master, I don't mean to be rude, but are they truly essential?"

Zahkraz smiled. "Why, of course. Anything of worth has its place in our plan – and there is no sense wasting useable materials when they can be neatly assembled into a diabolical instrument of Darkness. Everything is still going as it should, Tiroz… yes, everything."

Grasping her double-pike in one hand and a dirtbark torch in the other, Luha rushed through the fields north of Rauga Valley. Her attentive eyes scanned the darkness, searching for any sign of the armored titan Mynor. The supposed servant of the Acolytes, who had pledged to help the village of Vorza in any way he could, had now seemingly disappeared, which seemed to suggest that he had changed his mind entirely.

Of course, Vieta refused to allow this, which was why she had sent out to search the last place he had been seen since the beings known as the Krutoa had attacked Vorza. Luha had left the crimson giant in the fields after engaging in some mock combat, and she had believed that he would remain there until she and her brothers eliminated the threat to the village. Now, her trust had been shaken, and she was determined to find him and to engage him about his questionable behavior.

But, that was easier said than done. Now that the sun had set, the only light in the wilderness besides the glow of her torch was the dim pair of moons that rested in the night sky. The acid storm several days ago had left a residue in the atmosphere that blocked the light of the stars, and even the moonlight was far fainter than normally. Finding Mynor in the vast grassy stretches of Rauga Valley was, as one Zatoran guard had put it, like finding a grain of Mahnu wheat in a field of Fifo Flax. Which, considering the location she was searching, was a rather fitting analogy.

Groaning as her hunt for the giant continued to turn up nothing, she decided to change her direction. She began heading southwest towards Pikoru Peninsula. This secluded place of peace for both Rahi and Zatoran had not been visited by the latter species since the Yahzuhk had attacked, although the villagers of Vorza had come here occasionally before the Acolytes had died. Perhaps Mynor had escaped to here, if his true reason for leaving was simply to disappear from sight.

Besides, this place also held special meaning to her, and she had been longing to return. It was on the sandy beaches of the peninsula that she had been created – in fact, she had been formed right out of the sand itself! Although it would be harder to experience it in the darkness of night, she still was eager to revisit her first day in the world – especially since it had been so peaceful compared to what she had been facing recently. Oh yes, she had faced a few angry Rahi, but nothing like the horrors of the Yahzuhk and their willing army of Exiled Ones. Escaping from reality for just a few moments would be pleasing to her soul – even though she knew she would not stay for long.

Propelled by her desires, she reached Pikoru Peninsula in no time, expecting to find it exactly the same as it had been on the day of her creation. Instead, what she found was utter chaos. Through the light of her torch, she could see that the beach had been completely destroyed. The Bagoka trees had all been uprooted, the beach grasses had been turned into ashes, and the sand had been shredded and charred. This place of peace - of refuge – had now been turned into a wasteland where no Zatoran would ever want to meditate or relax again.

As she surveyed the ruined beaches and burnt plants, tears began to well up in her eyes. What was happening in Mirazis, that even the most peaceful places could be ravaged by destruction? What was the world coming too, that her sacred place of birth could be utterly ruined without any warning or reason? It seemed like no matter how much she and her brothers did, the Acolyte's former kingdom continued to decay, and their seemed to be no way to stop the spread of carnage and chaos.

Sadly, she looked up into the sky, which was said in Zatoran legends to be the home of the creators of Mirazis. Vieta had told her this the day she had arrived in Vorza, and she had also mentioned the belief that the Acolytes had now ascended into the stars as well. Perhaps, somehow, they could hear her crying, and maybe they also had the power to bestow a bit of their knowledge upon her head.

"My creators," she called out, "if you can hear me, than you know of my suffering. You were the ones who gave me and my brothers the task of protecting your kingdom. So please, if you can, give me understanding!"

Nothing happened. Or at least, she thought that at first. But, as she lowered her head, she suddenly noticed something that she had not before. The beach sand, which had previously looked utterly random and chaotic to her, now seemed to carry a pattern. The charred markings were still all over the place, but they all had one distinct characteristic – they were burnt in sets of two. The lines of charred sand formed what looked like the tracks a cart would make in soft ground, except they were black and smooth.

Is this the mark of the culprit? she wondered. If so, then what could have caused this? Although she did not know much about the natural laws of Mirazis, she had a feeling that sand did not usually burn like it had upon the peninsula. In fact, not all of it had – now, she could see that there were specks of glass mixed in with the charred granules – which somehow seemed more normal to her. If this was the natural result of fire meeting sand, then why was it only present in small amounts, and why was most of the sand burnt instead?

Then, she noticed something else as well. In the side of a hill of sand, there was another burnt mark – except that it looked far different from all the others. As she moved closer, she realized that, unlike the marks she had viewed already, the charred sand was indented in several places, rather than simply forming a flat line. Even more interestingly, there were several other lines in the middle, and on the side, which looked somewhat like Zatoran symbols.

Then, she realized what she was gazing at. This was no mere burn mark – and it certainly wasn't writing of any kind. No, it was something far more familiar – and yet even more out of place.

It was a footprint.

Grumbling about their defeat at the hands of the Toa, Rytrax, Karza, and Vidras reluctantly made their way back to the Yahzuhk's camp. Although they had caused much damage and carnage within the borders of the village of Vorza, they had then been utterly crushed and humiliated by Luha and her brothers, thanks in part to their usage of an incredibly powerful elemental form. Now, embarrassed, if not humbled, they were returning to Zahkraz in the hopes that he would bestow upon them the way to deal the same kind of punishment upon the Toa.

As they traveled, their faces were showing an unusual amount of similarity. While scowling was no foreign expression to Rytrax, Karza's face usually was twisted in a mad smile, and Vidras's was as blank and emotionless as a slab of rock. Now, however, they all were frowning intensely, and their hands were locked in firm fists. Rytrax especially was furious – his entire body was shaking considerably, as if he had some sort of mysterious chill within his rage-ravaged heart.

Hastened by their desire to learn the secret to annihilating the Toa, they reached the Yahzuhk's camp in no time. As expected, the mysterious beings and their army of exiles were there, engaging in their normal business. What they didn't expect was that the entire place was a disaster. The makeshift campfires they had created were almost totally destroyed, and rubble and burn marks covered the camp. Strangest of all, a huge rock spire had tumbled right upon the edge, cleaved right off of the rocky base that remained in the sand a few body lengths away.

As soon as they entered the camp, the Krutoa quickly approached the Yahzuhk with suspicion. If Zahkraz and his brothers felt surprised in the least, they certainly couldn't see any sign of it in their expressions and movements, in direct contrast to their own reactions.

"Ah, welcome back, Krutoa," Zahkraz said, with a slight hint of mocking in his voice. "I take it your excursion to Vorza did not go well?"

"No worse than what happened here, it seems," Vidras replied coldly replied. "Or am I wrong in thinking that there was a battle here as well?"

"No, we just decided to destroy our camp for absolutely no reason," Tiroz replied sarcastically. "What do you think, rock-heads? I swear, I have never met three beings as…"

"That will be quite enough," Zahkraz interjected, giving the red Yahzuhk a warning glance. Tiroz quickly complied – although not as much because of Zahkraz's words as because of the huge icy claw that was beginning to close on his neck. Gesturing for Eloh to release his grip on the fiery monster, he turned his attention back to the Krutoa.

"My… apologies for the words of my brother. Tiroz's passion for destruction is only matched by his dislike of strategy, and he feels that you do not deserve our aid."

"Don't deserve your aid?!" Rytrax yelled. "We deserve the aid of every being who isn't out to kill us – we have suffered unlike any other beings in this land, and -"

"Or do you?" Zahkraz countered. "After all, our ultimate goal in this bid for power is to crush the weak souls of Vorza, as well as any other beings who can not survive our rule. If you can not defeat three "noble" beings with elements far less destructive than yours, then what is to say you should not perish as well?"

Rytrax quickly prepared to respond with an angry retort of his own, but he was cut off by the suspicious words of Karza. "Zahkraz, how did you know of our defeat?" the Krutoa of acid asked angrily "Are you saying that you knew all along that we would fail?!"

"Oh, one doesn't need foresight to predict the outcome of conflicts," Zahkraz replied. "While your elements may be the more powerful than Luha, Ebsmod, and Jorvak's relatively tame powers, you don't possess neither the skill nor the control that they have over their elements. Without discipline, you are no stronger than a Karak Lava Scorpion or a Torgix Rock Snake – mindless beasts that use their powers instinctively rather than strategically."

The words of Zahkraz stung the Krutoa horridly, both because they hated being compared to mere creatures of the wild, and because they knew deep down that he was right. While their Rage had been their sole source of power since their creation, they realized that it would no longer be enough to respond to every situation with mindless anger. They would need to control their anger, and by harnessing it skillfully they could learn how to use their elemental powers in a way that that would rival Luha and her brothers.

"So, you intend to teach us?" Vidras asked, her face returning to its usual emotionless state.

"Why, of course!" Zahkraz answered. "After all, my brothers and I are some of the most powerful beings to ever walk this wretched land – and we did not get to our position of might by simply blasting everything that moves. We are all disciplined to some extent, and it will be a privilege to pass down our knowledge to other beings who share our motives."

Rytrax nodded, looking hopeful for the first time since he had left Vorza. Then, another thought came to his head – something that different happen very often. "Wait," he said slowly. "If you are so powerful, then why weren't you able to stop the being who trashed your camp?"

Zahkraz sighed. "Because, Krutoa, although there are other beings in this land who claim power just as we do, not all of them have the same beliefs as ourselves. No, the world is filled with both good and bad titans – and sometimes the bad ones manage to score temporary victories against the forces of good. Of course, after your battle with Luha and her miserable brothers, you know this all too well, don't you?"

Before any of the Krutoa could respond, he held out his hand for them to be silent. "But, that is not your worry right now, nor should it ever be until the Toa are dead and you are cured of your corruption. It is best that you leave the matters of our attacker to I and my brothers, and focus on learning our knowledge and gaining the strength to defeat your foes. Then, and only then, will you find the revelation you are seeking – and with that will come the peace you have been longing for all your lives."

Chapter Eleven

Souls of the Lost

Panting heavily, Luha rushed into the village of Vorza, nearly knocking over a Zatoran builder in the process. Without even stopping to greet the villagers around her, she quickly headed for the southern edge of the city, which Vieta had said she would be stationed at. Although she was extremely tired from all the running she had done, not to mention the battle that she had had the evening before, she knew that the blue-armored Zatoran commander would find the knowledge she possessed useful.

When she reached the southern guard towers, she was surprised to find that nearly the entire defense force was stationed there. Or at least, it appeared that way, since the guards were aligned in a very powerful looking location. But although Vieta had said she would be increasing the defense at this part of the village, she couldn't believe that the commander would leave the rest of the city unprotected.

"There you are!" Vieta shouted at Luha, motioning for the Toa to come over to her position behind the battalions of guards. There was visible anger in her eyes, although for what reason Luha didn't know. After all, she had done exactly what the Zatoran commander had asked her to do – going far out of her comfort zone to search for a being in a vast stretch of land.

"I was wondering what was taking you," Vieta said, as Luha joined her next to the guards. "When I asked you to search for Mynor, I didn't mean you had to spend the entire night looking for him!"

Luha frowned. "I know, Vieta, but there's a reason I was gone so long, and I'm sure you'll want to hear about it."

"Oh, you've got that right," Vieta answered, frowning back. "So, what's your excuse?"

"Not an excuse," Luha responded. "A warning. Pikoru Peninsula has been destroyed!"

Vieta's eyes widened slightly, although her frown did not disappear. "What are you talking about?" she exclaimed. "Why on earth would a location so far away from the current chaos in Mirazis suddenly fall apart? And more importantly, what were you doing there?"

"To answer your question, Vieta, I was there because I thought Mynor might have fled to that location." Luha replied, deciding not to mention about her longing to return to her place of birth. "And as for why it was destroyed, do you really think I know – and are you actually considering that I am lying to you?"

Vieta shook her head. "No, I don't really feel that way," she said regretfully. "It's just that, with all the chaos going on, I'd rather not believe that such a peaceful place like Pikoru Peninsula could suffer destruction at the hands of the Yahzuhk."

"Well, I never said that the Yahzuhk…" Luha began, but she was cut off by the hollers of the defense force members, who were pointing at the darkness in front of them. Pushing their way past the guards, Vieta and Luha were shocked to find that, scarcely ten Fios away, the missing titan Mynor was walking towards Vorza!

"What in the – where did he come from?" one of the battalion leaders exclaimed.

"I'd like to know the same thing," Vieta remarked. "You rock-heads were supposed to be on guard, and now he appears without you even noticing!"

"Oh, do not be harsh on them," Mynor said to Vieta, as he walked up to her and Luha. "If I do not want to be seen, than not even the most observant of guards will be able to notice me until I decide to reveal myself."

"That's not what upsets me," Luha suddenly said, before Vieta could come up with her own response. "What upsets me is that you disappeared without telling me or anyone else in the village! I thought you wanted to be our ally -"

"And I still am," Mynor said. "But keep in mind that I have made no promises as to when I will aid you and when I will disappear for a time. That is the reality of dealing with a servant of the Acolytes – you must be willing to trust me, even as do things that do not necessarily align with your comfortable plan of action."

"Comfortable… plan of action?!" Vieta exclaimed. "This is war, not peace, Mynor, and I have gone out of my comfort zone time and time again to defend this village – as have all the other Zatoran. But you on the other hand have done nothing to help us, besides speaking "wise words" from time to time and telling us to trust in you. Well, I don't trust in you, and I'm not sure if I trust in your masters anymore either – after all, what is to say that you're not a spitting image of their "noble leadership?"

Mynor frowned. "Don't be foolish as to assume that I have done nothing, Vieta," he replied sternly. "There are things at work in Mirazis that you do not know about and could not possibly understand, and you should be grateful that a knowledgeable being still walks in this land and is willing to take care of them for you."

Vieta's mask began to turn red with fury, a natural side affect of having her mind connected to the circuitry of her face's metal covering. Mynor's absolute refusal to reveal more about his motives and his secret life was infuriating, as was his constant use of "philosophical" language and "thoughtful" idioms. If he was an ally, then why was he so secretive, and why would it be wrong for her to suspect wrongdoing or treachery after his disappearing act this night?

Before she could explode in Mynor's face, however, a Zatoran interrupted her thoughts. "Vieta, it's almost sunrise," he said, looking rather concerned. "Are we going to do this tonight, or have you changed your mind?"

Slowly, Vieta sighed. "No," she answered. "This has to go on, even though it hasn't been tried in an Acolyte-less world for over 10000 years."

"What's going on?" Luha asked, turning to the Zatoran who was talking to Vieta. "What hasn't been tried without the Acolytes for 10000 years?"

"Just come along, and you'll see," Vieta said, rolling her eyes.

Within moments, Toa Luha and her brothers Ebsmod and Jorvak had been lead straight to the center of the village, where the ancient and regal structure known as the Ancient Tower stood. This massive stone building dominated Vorza by and large, and aside from the Acolyte's former fortress high up in the Huyaza Mountains, it held the position of tallest unnatural structure in Mirazis. The Toa had learned from the villagers of Vorza that this structure had served as a means of communication between them and the now-deceased rulers of Mirazis, although only when the Acolytes felt it was necessary.

Now, with the rulers of Mirazis gone, the Ancient Tower served no real purpose, and thus it had been turned into a ceremonial room of sorts. As two Zatoran unlocked and opened the thick wooden doors, Luha and her brothers laid their eyes on the memorial placed in front of the tower's stairway. After the battle at the cleansing waters, Vieta had commissioned one of the carvers to make a small Molana marble pillar, which now rested below the first step of the stairs. Around the pillar, the villagers had piled stones of various shapes and sizes, each which bore the name of a Zatoran who had perished. And, on top of the pillar, Vieta had placed the mask of her deceased friend Miro, who had died in the first battle of Vorza while defending her from the Exiled One Ska.

"Lumas, Midred, take that memorial and gently move it over to the side of the tower, please," Vieta said, as she lead the Toa and 10 other Zatoran into the base of the structure. "The rest of you, head up to the top and prepare yourselves. I will be with you in a moment."

Turning to Mynor, who was standing in the doorway, she shook her head solemnly. "I'm sorry, but there's no way you'll be able to climb up those stairs without crushing them. And even if you managed to, we're cramped enough as it is with eleven Zatoran and three Toa coming up there, and I don't think we'll have room for a massive titan like you."

Minor nodded his head in agreement. "Oh yes, I perfectly understand why you'd think that," he said. "However, it seems that in the process of trying to pay me back for my disappearance, you've forgotten where I came from."

Without so much as shrugging, Minor approached the staircase and laid his hands on the cobblestone. A faint red glow quickly covered the structure, which proceeded to expand in size as if its material was not bound to any natural laws.

As Vieta's jaw dropped, Mynor smiled encouragingly at her. "Nothing like a little Acolyte magic to fix our little problem," he said. "Which I'm sure you have seen in action before."

Vieta frowned. Although he didn't know it, Mynor had both stated a fact and awakened some very unpleasant memories. In his friendly words, the armored titan was no doubt referring to the time when Vieta had testified against Ska 173 years ago on the top of the Ancient Tower. The Acolytes, insistent as usual about having the entire village present, had expanded the tower's flat apex so that all the Zatoran could fit. Mynor had now shown that he possessed the same power, although probably not to the extent that his masters wielded it.

But, what the crimson giant didn't realize was that Vieta had also seen Acolyte magic used in at least one other case. Unlike the first example, however, this one had been far more recent, and it had not involved one of Mirazis's rulers, but her friend Miro. Flung into a state of physical panic after Ska had dismembered her arm, she had only managed to gain a glimpse of the scholar's magical powers in use, but she had later learned that he had used them in a sacrificial move that took Ska out of the battle. The memories stung her deeply, and Mynor had unknowingly caused them to resurface greater than they ever had before.

"Is something the matter, Vieta?" Mynor asked, seeing the distraught look on Vieta's face.

Vieta shook her head. "No, I'm fine," she quickly responded. "Let's get moving."

Soon, Vieta and Mynor had reached the top of the tower, which Mynor proceeded to magically expand as well. By now, the Toa were growing very impatient, for they were the only ones gathered there who had no idea what was going on.

"Alright, are you going to give us an explanation now?" Jorvak asked, looking at Vieta with annoyance.

"Yes, that would be very nice, Vieta," Luha agreed, crossing her arms.

Without replying, Vieta turned to a white and green Zatoran standing near the center of the tower. "Nisto, you'd better tell them – I'm not good with detailed explanations."

Nisto nodded, and quickly faced the Toa. "Guardians," he began, "what you are about to witness is something that is both mysterious and critically essential to the survival of our… -" he coughed. "Ahem, I mean my race. By now, you've probably been wondering about how our… my kind is created, haven't you?"

"Well, it has come to my mind once or twice," Ebsmod acknowledged. "Needless to say, the matters of life and death are still quite a mystery to us, considering that my fellow Toa and I don't even know how we were created."

"Well, fortunately, that doesn't matter right now," Nisto replied. "What matters is that, unlike Rahi, which engage in an activity known as mating to reproduce, the process of creating Zatoran is far more advanced."

Turning to the stone lid that had been placed over the stairway entrance, Nisto gestured for two Zatoran carrying buckets of what looked like earth. Immediately they headed to the flat cover and poured half of the dirt in the containers on top. They then stood back, waiting for Nisto to continue.

"Now," Nisto said, "A Zatoran is primarily made up of earth, or Land – but the dirt must be combined with the elemental energy of two existing Zatoran before it will form into a new villager."

Once Nisto had finished speaking, two Zatoran silently came forward and faced the dirt-covered table. One was a male, four legged Zatoran of crystal, and the other was a female, four armed Zatoran of storms. Closing their eyes, they linked hands and held their free arms out towards the stone lid.

As soon as their hands touched, their bodies began to glow with what Luha assumed was their elemental energy. Concentrating hard, the two Zatoran focused the aura into their hands, slowly releasing it into the pile of dirt placed on the stone table. Then, the dirt itself began to glow, rising up into the air and forming a small vortex of earth and elemental energy.

Cutting off their power, the two Zatoran released hands and immediately slumped down to the ground. Behind them, two other villagers quickly rushed to their aid, grabbing their hands and helping them to stand up and move away from the stone table.

Meanwhile, the whirlwind of dust and energy had now begun to take an indistinct but solid shape. Luha gasped and Jorvak and Ebsmod watched in awe, as the shape quickly sharpened and formed the outline of a four armed, two legged being, complete with a mask, hands, and feet. Then, the outline took on a deep shade of green, and the eyes and heart light began to emit a bright orange glow. Finally, the villager floated down to the ground and touched the surface of the stone lid, whole and finally alive.

"Uh, this is life, isn't it?" the newly created Zatoran asked. "I'm not really sure, but I almost feel like I'm not really… complete."

"Well, of course not," Nisto said, going over to the new villager and shaking his hand. "You still need a name, and… oh."

"Oh, what?" Luha asked, noticing the surprise in Nisto's eyes. Looking around, she saw that the other villagers had the same expression on their face.

Nisto frowned. "Well, this is a rather embarrassing situation. You see, we've, um, never really had to give any names to newcomers ourselves."

Jorvak frowned. "Wait… are you saying that Zatoran don't just give themselves names after they are created? Because that's not the way it worked with me, and…"

"Don't be so certain about that, Jorvak," Mynor suddenly said, cutting the Toa of Storms off. Confused, he and his fellow guardians looked up into the titans eyes, expecting an explanation. However, his only response was to shake his head, giving the Toa a look that suggested it was not worth demanding an answer from him.

"Well," Vieta said, changing the subject, "since the Acolytes are no longer here to personally name Zatoran, somebody else is going to have to volunteer. Does anyone have any suggestions?"

At first, no one replied, but after a few moments Luha gently stepped forward. "Actually I might have an idea. I don't know if this is the best solution, but perhaps this new villager's unique appearance might help."

"Appearance?" Nisto asked. "Are you by perchance referring to the unseal amount of yellow in his armor's color?"

Luha nodded. "Yes, exactly! He seems to be a villager of Storms, since his main color is green, but there's just as much yellow in his color as well. So, maybe his name can be 'Lahote.'"

When no one said a word, Luha groaned. "Oh, that's a terrible idea, isn't it?"

"Actually," the new villager said, "I think I like it." He grinned. "Yes, my name is Lahote - the yellow-armored Zatoran!"

Nisto breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, that was a close call. Thanks amuch, Toa Luha."

"Don't get too happy yet," Vieta responded. "We still have another two villagers to create."

Nisto's eyes lit up. "Oh, of course," he said hastily, beckoning for two more Zatoran to come forward. In moments, the process of creation had begun once more, and soon a second newcomer was standing on top of the stone table. This time, the villager was red and earth-orange in color, and she had the giant-armed build that was fairly rare among Zatoran.

"Wow, what is this?" the new villager exclaimed, with a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eyes. "This is wonderful, amazing – stupendous! Is this called happiness?"

"Boy, this one is going to be in for a shock if she ever meets the Yahzuhk," a villager remarked, earning himself a slap in the face from Vieta.

"Hm, she's cheerful and she's a giant…" Luha said, thinking to herself. "So, perhaps her name could be Moneta."

"Ah, a combination of the words for big and happy," Nisto said. "What an excellent suggestion, Luha. The question is, do you like it, newcomer?"

The newly created Zatoran's reply was instantaneous. "Yes, it's wonderful!" she said, with a continual smile on her face.

"Anyone could have come up with that name if they thought for a moment," Vieta said, obviously unimpressed. "But, if she likes it, than that's all that matters," she added with a smile of her own. "Speaking of which, it also matters that we get the final creation process done as quickly as possible, Nisto."

"Yes, right away," Nisto acknowledged. Again, he called for two more Zatoran to take center stage, and soon they were put to work creating the final newcomer of the day. When the process was done, a white and teal Zatoran with a rather unique mask was standing before the crowd of villagers and guardians.

"Wow, check out that mask!" a Zatoran whispered.

"Yeah, sure fits his element well," another added.

Luha nodded. "Of course - his element is Crystal, and his mask looks like crystal too. So, his name can be Kakin… if he likes it, I mean."

The newcomer nodded. "That's a nice name, I'd say. I guess I'm Kakin then."

"Wow, three in a row, Toa Luha!" Nisto said, clapping his hands in gratitude. "You deserve our utmost gratitude for this – I don't know what we would have done if you hadn't come up here."

"We would have probably just come up with the same names on our own," Vieta said, sighing. "But thanks anyway, Luha," she added, smiling again.

Luha blushed. Although creating the names of the three Zatoran had been relatively easy compared to how hard it had probably been to create their bodies, she still felt honored to have taken part in a sacred process. Especially, since she had done something that previously had been the job of her own creators, the Acolytes. Creation would probably always be a mystical thing to her, but actually participating in it made it feel just a bit more natural – not to mention more fun. And fun was something that, in a time where monsters like the Yahzuhk were roaming free, was a rare and precious privilege indeed.

Screaming, Karza unleashed a hail of acidic projectiles at the black-armored Yahzuhk named Okmyon, grinning inside as they plowed through the air towards his metal face. Her two fellow Krutoa had already failed to down the foe she was now facing, but she was determined that she wouldn't fail like her inept counterparts.

Shrugging, Okmyon allowed the acid to come within two Fio's of his head, before exerting a slight amount of his power of Tremors upon the ground beneath his feet. The light-colored earth opened up underneath him, sending his body plunging downward and allowing the hail of acid to pass over him harmlessly.

Karza growled. Okmyon had already pulled this trick on Rytrax, but she wouldn't allow him to get away so easily. Grinning, she launched acid at the hole that the black Yahzuhk had created. But by then, Okmyon had already escaped through a tunnel he was now creating underneath the ground Karza was standing on, and she could not dodge in time. With a great crash, earth exploded underneath her feet and sent her flying into the air, crashing down moments later near the feet of her "brother" Rytrax.

"Guess your Acid isn't more powerful than my Lava, then," Rytrax said, sneering slightly.

"I would have had him if he hadn't plowed right under me!" Karza retorted. "You had it easy – he just circled around underground and popped back up a little ways away when you were fighting him!"

"Ah, excuses, excuses," Okmyon said, walking over to Karza and Rytrax. "But really, do you simply expect me to use the same strategy every time I fight one of you insipid spike-masks? It is strategy that wins a battle, not power, although the latter certainly helps as well."

"Just be careful not to say that around Zahkraz, Okmyon," the red Yahzuhk named Tiroz said, walking up to his brother with an ugly grin on his face. "In fact, you might as well not say that here either, as long as Eloh's watching from the sidelines," he added, pointing to his white-armored brother that had come up behind him.

"Zahkraz and Eloh would agree with me, twig-arms," Okmyon replied, laughing. "The only reason you always find yourself in the latter's claws is that you don't share the intelligence of the former, unlike me. Oh I can't claim to be the mastermind of our plan, but I'm certainly not a thick-skull like some beings in our brotherhood…"

Tiroz frowned. "Says the one who can't seem to train these Krutoa to fight properly," Tiroz retorted. "Oh, I can't claim to be a good teacher myself, but it sure seems like an intellect like yourself would be able to do a better job at this than you are currently."

"Perhaps you're having trouble with those two," Vidras objected, walking up to the group, "but I wasn't so foolish as to fall for your tricks…"

"True, but you weren't smart enough to defeat me, either," Okmyon replied. "One seismic blast behind your back was all it took for me to knock you flat, and that's considering that you had ten times as many chances to blast me with your crystal."

"Than what do you suggest we do about our supposed lack of skills?" Rytrax yelled, blasting a cactus with his lava. "What is the secret to your power?"

Unexpectedly, it was Eloh who replied first. "The secret, you fools… is to fear those who are greater than you."

"What does that mean?" Karza spat. "Why should we fear you – or for that matter, why should we fear those despicable Toa?"

Okmyon smiled. "Because, if you don't fear those who have what you do not, your overconfidence will assure that you will fail," he explained. "Yes, you will fail each and every time you assume that you are undefeatable simply because you have power. There are countless beings in the world that possess natural abilities, but only those who are cautious and who respect the skill of greater forces will learn how to rise above them and conquer them."

Suddenly, he pulled one of his Seismic Bullet Launchers off his back. "Do you see this object, Krutoa? With this, any being with more than an ounce of strength could shatter all the Tulu cactuses in this infernal desert with ease. He could smash all the rock spires to dust, and perhaps even end the lives of every single Rahi. But without skill, it would be next to useless against any foe with more than natural instinct at his command. And against those who had far greater power than him, it would only serve to hasten his defeat – for beings that refuse to gain skill are either overconfident or stupid."

"Are you calling me stupid?" Rytrax yelled.

"It certainly describes your personality," Karza remarked, smirking.

"And are you so certain it does not fit yours?" Okmyon interjected. "After all, the little known secret in the world is that, while stupidity often is a lone trait, overconfidence is almost always accompanied by idiocy."

"Almost always?" Vidras said. "Then, I suppose you feel you're in the minority that is overconfident but not stupid."

Okmyon laughed. "Oh no, I am not overconfident, Krutoa. I have the skill that is necessary to overcome anyone who stands in my way, as do all of my brothers and especially my master. But I have another trait that is even more important – something that will ensure that a being will endure everything my enemies can throw against me, only to spring up at the end and snatch victory away from their cold dead hands."

"And what is this trait that you say you have?" Vidras asked, echoing the thoughts of her fellow Krutoa.

Okmyon closed his eyes and sighed happily. "It is simple as can be, Vidras: I am loyal to my master."

Walking over to the central staircase, Vieta gently sent the mask of her friend Miro down upon the memorial to lost Zatoran. There, just as it was before, she thought, smiling sadly. Having given the order days before to create the monument, she had felt it was her duty to restore it to perfect order after everyone had emptied out of the Ancient Tower. Now, Miro's mask could rest peacefully in the center of Vorza's most important structure, just as she imagined he was resting peacefully wherever his soul was now.

As she looked upon the last remaining piece of her friend, she tried hard not to shed any tears. Although she had not shed many before, she was determined not to let her feelings get the best of her. Miro had died for a noble cause, and it was because of him that she still lived on to this day. It had been his choice to sacrifice himself, and she refused to let her selfish longings for his return to cloud the reality of his noble, selfless death. Besides, she was a commander of an entire defense force, and it was her job to be tough enough to hold the rest of the village up. If she could not control her emotions, than how would her fellow villagers survive?

"I see you have deep feelings for your friend," a voice called out from behind Vieta.

Vieta frowned. Great, now Mynor's here to give me another lesson in Acolyte wisdom, she thought. Turning around, she prepared to face him indifferently, but a look of surprise came onto her face when she realized that he too looked sad.

"Why are you doing that?" she asked timidly.

"Because I care about you, Vieta," Mynor replied. "I can relate very much to your suffering – I too have lost many friends in my lifetime, and to fiends that are just as despicable as the being who fought your friend."

He reached out a hand and put it on Vieta's back. "But why are you trying so hard to hold back your tears? From the little time that I have spent around you, I have seen that you have a great heart buried beneath all your toughness and morale. This is not something you should be ashamed of – on the contrary, you should be thankful for it!"

Vieta quietly looked up into Miro's eyes. "You mean that?" she asked.

"Yes, I do," Mynor said. "Don't hold back your emotions any longer, Vieta. I can sense you have not yet let yourself drain your heart of all the welled-up sorrow. Every sensible being needs to cry – in fact, it is an essential part of the life of hero. So go on, my friend – cry your heart out, and let yourself free."

At first, Vieta did not reply, and she tried to hide her face from Mynor's calm yellow eyes. But, after a moment, she turned back, and tears began to flow from her eyes. Soon, she was crying into her hands with more intensity than she ever had before, sobbing loudly as Mynor cradled her in one of his giant arms. She cried long and hard, muttering the name of her friend every so often. And all the while, Mynor gazed caringly on her, holding her as if she was his own creation.

Hours later, when the sun had finally set, Vieta let the last of her tears fall and then slowly opened her eyes. She had exhausted herself so much that she could barely stand up, but soon she was on her own two feet again, looking into Mynor's eyes with an expression of gratitude.

"Thank you, Mynor," she said quietly. "You've proven to me today that, though you never knew me personally before this time, you have a heart for your masters' people."

"Oh, it is my duty, Vieta," Mynor replied. "And I'm glad you believe what I said days ago, when I promised that I was a friend, and not an enemy. It has taken you time, but you finally now trust that I want what is best for Vorza and its inhabitants. And that, I can say, may go down in history as one of my greatest victories."

"I'm sure Miro would agree, if he had been here to see me crying like that. He's always said that if someone ever managed to make me weep without earning a slap in the face moments later, that would be a sign that they are on the side of good." She smiled. "Perhaps that's why he left his mask when he died – maybe he just didn't want to leave Mirazis entirely until he saw that happen."

Mynor frowned. "What do you mean, his mask?"

Vieta raised an eyebrow. "I mean, the mask that's right on that pedestal. Didn't you see it when you first came in here?"

Mynor did not reply, although his face quickly lit up with concern. Quickly he rushed forward and picked Miro's mask off of the pillar, muttering something under his breath.

Vieta narrowed her eyes. "Hey, what are you doing with that?" she shouted.

Instead of answering her question, Mynor asked one of his own. "So, you're saying this is not just a carving painted to look like your friend's mask? Not a replica made out of metal or stone?"

"Well, no," Vieta replied hesitantly. "It's his real mask. Why are you asking me that?"

Mynor frowned. "Because, Vieta, the mere fact that only his mask remains tells me that his death was not a normal one. Are you certain that his body did not survive either?"

"No, I'm certain, okay!" Vieta yelled angrily. "Are you trying to make me cry for another three hours or something?"

Again, Mynor did not answer her question, but instead he put his own face to Miro's mask. "Then, there's only one thing left to check," he said, closing his eyes. Immediately, his face glowed with red energy, which enveloped the former scholar's mask and heated it up like a piece of metal in a forge. Then, as quickly as it had started, the mask cooled down, and the energy retracted into Mynor's eyes.

"Then, that settles it," he announced.

"Settles what?!" Vieta shouted. "What are you saying, you cryptic sage of nonsense?"

Mynor's face grew very serious. "What I'm saying, Vieta," he replied, "is that Miro is not actually dead."

Chapter Twelve

Touching the Void

In her lifetime, Vieta had witnessed many strange things, and in the last few weeks of her life her list of bizarre experiences had only increased. Among other things, she had seen ghosts that could repel great titans like the Acolytes, Zatoran perishing in waters that were supposed to heal them, and beasts that could duplicate themselves and suck the energy out of anything they touched. By now, she had begun to believe that nothing could shock her anymore, for her life had already been filled with so many unusual occurrences that she wasn't sure what she hadn't witnessed yet.

And yet, here she was, shocked beyond belief at a few simple words that the former Acolyte servant Mynor had spoken. Her jaw was hanging down like the mouth of a hungry Torgix Rocksnake, and her eyes were filled with surprise and distrust. What Mynor had said was absolutely ridiculous! How could her friend Miro, who had perished over a week ago, still be alive and kicking? It was unfathomable – not to mention ludicrous!

Burt, at the same time, her deep feelings for Miro ensured that she wasn't about to dismiss the possibility entirely, especially if Mynor was indeed telling the truth. Slowly, she regained her composure and faced the red-armored giant, trying to keep herself from exploding in his face.

"How… how can this be?" she asked quietly.

Mynor held up Miro's mask. "The evidence is right in the palm of my hand, Vieta," he replied. "As I said before, this mask proves that his 'death' was in fact supernatural. You of all people should have remembered that when Zatoran usually die, they leave their entire bodies. I suppose that the trauma you experienced caused you to forget, but I'm still surprised you did not suspect a thing."

Vieta frowned. "This doesn't make any sense! I know Miro was using magic at the time, and I know he used some sort of magical spell to temporarily defeat Ska, but that doesn't explain how he could possibly still be alive!"

"Oh, but it is very possible," Mynor replied. "For, the spell that he used was not merely an average magical attack, but one that is both incredibly powerful and was frowned upon in my master's brotherhood: Torvos Eekama – The Soul of Pure Evil's Power"

Vieta gasped. "P…Pure Evil? You're saying that Miro used… Pure Evil to defeat Ska?!"

"Not just used it," Mynor explained, "he became it. By harnessing Torvos Eekama, he poured his soul into Eenaka, turning himself into a deadly attack that, when used properly, has the power to end the life of any being in its radius."

Vieta was stunned. Although she had believed that Miro's sacrifice was pure and just, she now was beginning to wonder if he had made a wise decision. The very mention of Pure Evil, a power that combined the horrors of normal evil with a complete and utter purposelessness, was enough to send shivers down any Zatoran's spine. And now Mynor was saying that Miro had become it while trying to protect her from Ska? No, this was just too horrible to fathom!

Despite this, she still was able to muster up the strength to ask another question. "But this still doesn't explain how he is alive, Mynor! How do you know this is true?"

Mynor folded his hands. "Let me explain, Vieta. With the advances in medical science in the last one-thousand years, you and all Zatoran now know something of the mysterious phenomenon known as "spirit anchoring." When a Zatoran experiences an extreme amount of trauma, usually through a devastating injury or encounter, their spirit is often temporarily jutted from their bodies, ensuring a deep, thoughtless sleep and, often, eventual death. However, a Zatoran with enough strength heart is sometimes able to subconsciously anchor their spirit to their mask, which not only gives them more protection from death, but also sends them into a strange, featureless realm where they are conscious but also confused."

Vieta nodded. She herself had experienced this very phenomenon after she had lost her arm to Ska. Although she had never quite understood everything that had happened to her, she knew that her bizarre dreams at the time had something to do with her wandering spirit, which had been nearly launched from her body due to the extreme pain she had felt at the time.

"In the same way," Mynor continued, "Torvos Eekama also ensures an out of body experience, as the spell is powerful enough to incinerate the user's entire form, notwithstanding the mask. However, while a being who experiences normal spirit anchoring either wakes up or still eventually perishes, the spirit of a Torvos Eekama user permanently inhabits their mask, ensuring that their soul can never truly be at peace."

"So," Vieta asked, taking in Mynor's words, "if his soul is still living within his mask, is it possible that… somehow… we can resurrect him?"

Mynor's face grew dark. "Indeed there is. However, the process that will allow him to return to the physical world is very dangerous, and it will also require a great sacrifice. You must not only have the willpower to engage in the process, but you must also have the unrelenting desire to bring your friend back – otherwise, you could put your own life in jeopardy."

The grim words of Mynor struck Vieta hard, and it took her a moment to formulate an answer. However, when she finally replied, her words were as firm as could be, and her heart was burning with passion.

"Tell me what I have to do," she said.

Opening the door to his machine shop, Wudas lugged a sack of scrap metal through the main room and set it down on a work bench. After the sudden attack on Vorza by the beings Vorza's guardians referred to as Krutoa, he had spent some time sifting through the rubble and gathering broken parts of machines and tools.

Pouring the contents of the sack onto the table, he gazed disapprovingly at the small pile he had collected. His scavenging had not gone nearly as well as it had other days, mainly thanks to the corrosive powers of two of the three Krutoa. Most of the metal he had managed to gather had come from buildings that simply had been collapsed by the white Krutoa's crystal – any of the huts that had been touched by the red and brown Krutoa's lava and acid had been reduced to nothing more than ashes and puddles of goop. There was nothing left that he could salvage from the remains of those structures, which were now being carefully cleaned up by the Zatoran outside.

Sifting through the metal, he pulled out a few items of interest – several gears, a lock and key, a few support girders from a watch tower, and a few bent tools. All of these things could be repaired and put to use again – the rest was just garbage.

Putting the useful items in a box, he picked up the rest of the metal and heaved it into a large bin. The bin was connected to a large forge in the corner of the room, which was in turn connected to a small conveyor belt. The forge was nearly as tall as the room and composed of a metal frame with Molana marble walls. A small glass window was built into the front wall, and looking inside one could see a thick metal bucket attached to a mechanical winch. And, at the top, the structure angled up into a pyramid shape, which had a smokestack coming out of the middle and through the machine shop's ceiling.

Even though Wudas had used this machine for over a hundred years now, he couldn't help but still marvel at the ingenuity and complexity of the device. His now deceased master Kirizon and the chief metal smith Rigar had created it for the purpose of reducing the effort and time it took to make and form metal into shapes. Ever since then, weapons, tools, machine parts, and everything else made out of protanium or tironium was created using Molana marble molds, which were resistant to heat and could be mass produced with ease. By maneuvering them into the forge, one could pour molten metal into the molds, which was easily cooled by a bucket of water and could then be sharpened and refined.

Of course, his was only a smaller version of the master-forge that Rigar had in the metal shop in north Vorza. The chief metal smith had been working there for nearly seven hundred years now, and yet he still managed to be as efficient as Wudas. Perhaps that was because he mainly focused on making simple materials for construction, but he still was rather good at it.

As Wudas's mind began to drift off, he was suddenly startled by what sounded like metal crunching under feet. Whirling around, he found himself face to face with a hideous creature that looked something like a Yahzuhk. Before he could respond, he was flying across the room, thrown into a pile of combat drone parts by a blast of high-pressure water.

"Ow…" Wudas muttered. The blast of water had hit him hard, and he wasn't quite sure why he hadn't just been knocked out instantaneously. Regardless, he was quickly falling into a daze, although he still had enough strength to weakly watch the monster that had put him out of commission.

The being, which was blue and covered in leaf-like protrusions, looked around the machine shop for a moment, before picking up several metal-working tools in his hands. Then, he faced the metal forge, apparently studying it and looking for structural weakness. Quick as a flash, several blasts of water erupted underneath the structure, causing it to groan and buckle against the pressure.

The last thing Wudas saw before falling unconscious was the being, along with the entire metal forge, riding out of the machine shop on an enormous wave of water. Then, all went black.

"Here again?" Jorvak remarked, as he and his fellow Toa followed Mynor and Vieta up to the top of the Ancient Tower. "I take it this place has more significance than I thought."

"Oh, more than you could imagine," Mynor replied. "Before the death of my masters, this was the place where severely injured Zatoran were brought and healed by the Acolytes' power. Although they are gone now, the Ancient Tower itself contains a miniscule amount of their energies, which I believe may be useful during the great task we are taking upon ourselves."

Luha nodded. He and Vieta had explained the entire situation to her and her brothers minutes before, which for some reason had not shocked them quite as much as it apparently had shocked Vieta. Yes, they too were enlightened at the prospect of bringing Miro back from the dead, as he had been a great help to them in the little time he had still been alive. But, death was also still a concept that they had not quite fully come to grips with yet, and the idea of being permanently whisked out of existence was rather confusing to them. Even if the body died, could their soul not still live on somewhere else, as Miro's soul had? Or was this not the norm at all?

Regardless, they didn't have time to contemplate the issue further, for Mynor and Vieta were now ready to begin.

"Remember Toa," Mynor said sternly, "You must continue to pour your pure, immaterialized elemental energy into her body until she succeeds. If you do not, then her organic components will shut down, and she will no longer have a place to return to in the physical world."

"We understand what to do," Ebsmod acknowledged.

"I just hope we understand how to do it as well," Jorvak added, looking at his hands nervously. "None of us have ever tried to use elemental energy without forming it into actual matter, and…"

"Do not worry, it will come naturally," Mynor assured the green Toa of storms. "Now, prepare yourselves – especially you, Vieta."

Nodding her head, Vieta closed her eyes and let Mynor put his hands on her mask. Muttering some strange words, Mynor slowly enveloped her body with magical red energy, which began fishing her soul of her body. As the Toa watched, they prayed to the red titan's former masters that he would do a good job. Mynor had said that this was in fact the most difficult part of the process, for a single mental misstep could shatter part of Vieta's essence.

After several grueling minutes, Mynor took his hands off Vieta's body, which the Toa swiftly grabbed ahold of before it could fall to the ground. Then, they themselves began feeding energy into her body, watching as Mynor held a strange, colorless sphere in his hands.

Going over to Miro's mask, which he had previously placed on the central stone table of the tower, he grasped the metal sides in his hands and channeled Vieta's soul into its form, making sure that it would enter the mask in its entirety.

When all was said and done, Mynor stood back and took his place beside the Toa. "Now, we wait," he said quietly. "And we hope dearly that Vieta is able to succeed."

Vieta awoke with a gasp, which echoed across the borderless darkness that she had once again awoken to. "This sure does seem familiar," she said, struggling to regain her thoughts for a moment. "Oh, yes!" she remembered. "Now, to find Miro!"

Looking around at her surroundings, she saw the familiar white light that she herself had once faced weeks ago. Although she had never quite figured out what exactly the bright doorway was for, she knew that there was no use in chasing it, for it had supernatural powers that ensured that it was impossible for one to pass through its light.

Deciding that the best place to look for Miro would be the opposite direction from the doorway, she began to turn around – when all of a sudden she heard a faint but familiar voice.

"Oh, no, that can't be it – there is no way a portal to Astilla could exist here!" the voice muttered. "Perhaps I need to think outside of the box this time… oh, if only I had my notes!"

Vieta turned around and gasped. Standing scarcely a few Fios away from the doorway was the faint, shadowy outline of her friend, which she had not previously noted in the darkness of the room. Running as fast as she could, she rushed over to Miro and greeted him.

"Miro! I'm here for you!" she told him.

Miro did not reply, although his face did light up in surprise. "Huh, what was that? I was positive that no voices from the outside world could pass through the Soul Barrier!"

"Miro, it's me, Vieta!" she repeated. "Can't you hear me?"

"No, it has to be something else," Miro continued on, without even acknowledging his friend's voice. "Perhaps – aha, maybe it's just a memory from my old life transpiring from my mind!"

Just great, Vieta thought. He can't see me. Perhaps if I touch him… "Oh!" she gasped, as her hand went right through Miro's body. Steadying herself, she now realized that his body was slightly ghost-like, perhaps signaling that his spirit was no longer whole either.

"Hm, then again, perhaps not," Miro said to himself, putting a transparent hand up to his mask. This does call for some further investigation – but not right now, as I have more important matters to attend to."

As Miro went back to studying the door of light, Vieta tried hard to remember what Mynor had told her before she had entered Miro's mask. "He said something about awakening the deepest feelings within his heart," she said. "But what would accomplish that?"

Then, without warning, her mind began to head back into her past, awakening some of her fondest memories of her friendship with Miro. His creation 393 years ago, their first Harvest of the Acolytes together, the times he read her ancient Acolyte legends – so many fond memories, but none of them seemed to be the answer. None of them… except Valon Ridge.

Yes, she thought, that must be it! The memories of that fateful day flashed before her eyes. That day, exactly 77 years ago, Miro had nearly died at the hands of a horde of Ghoulbiters, who had captured him and taken him to their cave. Vieta, Unar, and several battalions of guards had followed after them, and they had engaged in a battle that ended up deciding the war between the Zatoran and the Ghoulbiters in their favor. But the memory Vieta knew would awaken Miro's feelings was the words Vieta had said after she had nearly sacrificed her life to save him.

Smiling, she turned towards her friend's ghost-like body and whispered eight familiar words into his ears: "Hey, you're welcome to pay me back someday."

Miro's eyes widened. "Pay..me…back… Vieta?" he stuttered. "Vieta, is that you?"

Vieta grinned. "Yes Miro, it's me! I'm here for you!"

Miro's eyes grew even wider. "Here for me? But how, and by what being's power?"

"I'll explain later," Vieta said. "Right now, what matters is restoring you to full health. Can you see me now?"

Miro blinked his eyes. "Yes, yes I can. And you're just as striking as ever."

Vieta blushed slightly. "Thanks – now, take hold of my hands, okay?"

Miro nodded, and quickly proceeded to follow Vieta's instructions. Closing her eyes again, Vieta poured some of her soul's energy into his body, which Mynor had said would allow him to return to the physical world. As the energy flowed into her friend's body, Miro's outline gradually became fuller and brighter, and soon his soul was completely whole again.

Breathing heavily, Vieta began to collapse from what seemed to be exhaustion, but she was quickly held steady by Miro's gentle green hands.

"Thanks Miro," Vieta said, smiling. "Now, the only question is… how do we leave here?"

"That's what I've been trying to figure out this entire time!" Miro said exasperatedly. "If only I…"

Then, his eyes lit up. "Wait, that's it!" he exclaimed.

"What's it?" Vieta asked. "Do you know?"

"Indeed, I do!" Miro shouted. "Yes, yes I do!"

Vieta rolled her eyes. "Then come on, tell me how!" she said.

Miro smiled. "Why, it's very simple… we just have to go right through that door of light!"

Luha gasped with delight as she pointed to Miro's mask. "Look – look what's happening!"

Grinning with amazement, she and her brothers gazed wide-eyed at the mask of the former scholar, which was now beginning to levitate off of the Ancient Tower's central stone table. Floating in the air, it proceeded to explode with light, which lit up the night sky and nearly blinded their eyes in the process.

As the mask glowed as bright as the morning sun, two beams of energy jutted from its metal. One flowed straight into the body of Vieta, which began to stir the second after it was touched. And as for the other, it hovered right below Miro's mask, beginning to take the shape of a very familiar three legged Zatoran.

When all was said and done, and the sky was once again dark, Vieta was awake, and Miro was standing whole in the center of the Ancient tower.

"Miro!" Luha shouted happily, running over to hug the scholar. Quickly, she was joined by her two brothers and Vieta, who all cradled their friend in their arms with joy and relief.

"Yeow, are you trying to kill me all over again or something?" Miro gasped, trying in vain to bear the tight hugs of the Toa and Vieta. "Yes, I know I'm back, okay!"

Quickly pulling themselves off of the scholar, the Toa smiled at Miro, who quickly smiled back. Then, he looked at his shoulder, which was still being hugged by Vieta. "Um, I kinda was referring to you to," he said. "Although I guess you deserve to hug me more than anyone."

"Still weary of physical affection, I see," Vieta said, smirking. "Yep, you're back alright."

"Hey, it's not like I…" Miro began, but he stopped speaking mid-sentence. "Vieta…" he stuttered. "How'd you get that robotic arm?" Looking up, he proceeded to gasp. "And who is… who is that red giant?"

"Don't worry, I'll explain everything," Vieta said. "But first… oh!" she gasped, as the stone covering of the Ancient Tower's stairway lifted off. Seconds later, a member of the defense force climbed up the steps.

"There you all are," the member said hastily. "I've been looking all over for you, and…" At the sight of Miro, his jaw dropped.

"I'll explain later," Vieta said. "What was it you wanted to tell me?"

The guard's face grew serious. "I'm sorry to say this, but we've had another attack."

Chapter Thirteen

Forging War

As the Yahzuhk of Heat, Tremors and Frost lead the Krutoa back to the Tar River, Tiroz sighed in relief. Against all his predictions, and especially against his gut impulse, the Krutoa were finally starting to shape up – and by shaping up, he meant "learning how to properly kill a being."

Yes, it had taken them almost an entire day, but the Yahzuhk had finally gotten somewhere with their seemingly un-teachable trainees. Although the morning had started out terribly – with the three mutated Toa getting repeatedly clobbered and failing to learn from their mistakes – a sense of discipline and justice had finally been hammered into their minds. Now they were actually managing to nearly hit Okymon with blasts of their respective elements, repulsed only by walls of ice formed by Eloh.

As anyone could expect, however, the Yahzuhk disagreed on what exactly had incited this considerable change in attitude. While the Krutoa were still as hateful and as quick-tempered as they had ever been, they now possessed something resembling combat skill, and Tiroz and his brothers had been arguing the entire journey back to the Exiled One's camp as to how this change had come about. Okmyon, of course, had automatically assumed that his lecture about fear and respect had knocked some sense into the Krutoa, while the red Yahzuhk of Heat insisted that they simply were tired of getting their masks handed to them. As for Eloh, well, he had muttered something about "the desire of revenge plunging the body and mind into efficient cooperation," but the way the white Yahzuhk had said it had made Tiroz automatically dismiss his brother's dull opinion.

But really, none of this mattered in hindsight – when it all boiled down, only the reality that the Krutoa were nearly ready to oppose their light-masked brothers in Vorza had any real worth. Now, Zahkraz's plan finally seemed logical to Tiroz, and he couldn't have been more happier.

"Ah, here we are," Okmyon remarked to Tiroz, as the group finally reached the shores of the Tar River. "Nothing like the thick scent of thick oily muck to cleanse the nostrils, huh mantis-arms?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'd think that, armor-head," Tiroz replied. "With all those years working as a mechanic, who wouldn't enjoy the smell of oil? As for me, I prefer the pleasing scene of burnt hydraulic fluid, if you catch my drift."

"Oh, I catch it alright," Okmyon said mockingly. "What I don't catch is your rather thick-headedness when it comes to nicknames – your "armor-head" remark was so clumsy that it fell to the ground before it could stimulate my senses."

"Doesn't surprise me a bit," Tiroz countered, "since your senses are so stimulated by ten-thousand years of oil that practically nothing resonates in your thick-head."

The Krutoa, who had been observing the two Yahzuhk's exchange rather intently, did not know what to make of the powerful being's seemingly carefree words. It wasn't that they didn't understand what it meant to call names or to insult another being – on the contrary, the Krutoa themselves had been doing that to each other from the moment they had met. It was just that, for some reason, they couldn't detect any real sense of anger or frustration in Okmyon and Tiroz's words. Was rude banter simply an enjoyable pastime to the Yahzuhk of Tremors and Heat, or were the Krutoa simply so weakly allied that they didn't understand the concept of "friendly arguments?"

Regardless, they had little time to mull over this curiosity, as the calm but sinister words of the leader of the Yahzuhk quickly pushed the thoughts out of their heads. "So, you return to the Rocksnake's jaw, Krutoa," Zahkraz said, invoking a rather odd metaphor. "Am I right to assume that it has gone well, or shall I have to devour you?"

Unsure of what the brown Yahzuhk had meant, The Krutoa stared at Zahkraz with blank looks in their faces. What had he meant by "the Rocksnake's jaw?" What was a Rocksnake, for that matter?

Seeing their confused looks, Zahkraz smiled and said, "Merely a joke, my naïve creations."

"I doubt they even know what a joke is," Okmyon said, smirking. "But hey, they're finally fighting competently, and that's what matters."

"Indeed, Okmyon," Zahkraz agreed. "And speaking of which… oh, here he is now," he said, as the blue Yahzuhk named Masor had just come over the big sandy hill to the south. With a great splash, he retracted the wave of water he was riding on and set himself down next to the encampment, along with a strange device that he had been carrying in another tide.

"Does he always do that?" Karza remarked, shaking water off her armor.

"Oh, you can only imagine," Okmyon replied. "Just as I did not imagine how… primitive this forge you've brought to me is, Masor."

"Would you rather have me brought you Vorza's prime forge and risked the Zatoran spotting my approach?" Masor said sarcastically, with a hint of rage in his tone.

"Only if I wanted another hour of work repairing the mangled wreckage you would have inevitably brought me," Okmyon replied, smirking "Moisture may have many useful applications, but removing complex mechanical devices from a small hut is certainly not one of them. I'm surprised even this smaller machine made the trip back in one piece," he added, looking over the forge that Masor had brought.

Rytrax frowned. "Wait, what is all of this for?" he asked. "Why do you need a… a forrrrge, for anything? Now that the other Krutoa and I are better at using our elemental powers, we're ready to take on those miserable guardians of Vorza and…"

"Don't jump to conclusions, my dear Rytrax," Zahkraz admonished. "While it is true that you have now reined your respective elements into control, Luha, Ebsmod and Jorvak still have one crucial advantage over you."

"And what would that be?" Karza asked. "Those pointy pieces of metal that the Toa were carrying? Please… I'll just melt right through them and continue on to their armor!"

"Oh, you could try," Zahkraz responded. "I know you would, if I gave you the chance. But you would likely fail, for weapons are among the greatest aids to a warrior's strength"

"That's not what Okmyon said," Rytrax responded. "He said that weapons are useless without skill, not the other way around?"

"True, very true," Zahkraz replied. "But, what Okmyon most likely did not mention is that, when combined with skill, weapons can be just as deadly as the force of the elements or the power of the Kanohi masks."

He pointed to the black Yahzuhk of Tremors, who was now beginning to activate the forge. "That is why my brother is now making you weapons of your own. It is essential that, when facing the Toa for the second time, you are equally matched in as many areas as possible, whether it be brute force or blades. Although the Toa will always have some advantages until you kill them and use their elemental powers to heal your mutations, I and my brothers are committed to giving you the edge you need in other areas. This is simply one of the ways we shall accomplish this, and you would be wise to trust our counsel."

For a moment, the Krutoa were silent, although their eyes betrayed the confusion in their hearts and minds. Trust? What kind of fool would "trust" the counsel of someone who supposedly had great enough power to lead an entire brotherhood of incredible beings like the Yahzuhk? Oh sure, Zahkraz seemed good enough, but they simply hadn't been around him long enough to know whether they could be fully loyal to his cause. After all, their reason for living at the moment was so they could heal themselves and claim power in Mirazis – wouldn't "trusting" a being put his priorities and goals before the Krutoa's and make them servants rather than simply allies?

But then, it hit them that they had already been doing just that. From the moment Zahkraz had told the story of Mirazis's downfall, they had believed that his motives were just – but more so than that, they had trusted that his account of the land's descent into peace was accurate and truthful. The thought of questioning his tale had never come to their mind, and it was now defining their lives in their entirety. Although they didn't know why they trusted him, what mattered was that trust was not a foreign and foolish concept – and thus was something they could apply to the current situation as well.

It was Vidras that finally responded, summing her and her fellow Krutoa's words up in a single short sentence.. "Zahkraz," she said slowly, "though I do not know you personally, I do trust your words."

"And rightfully so," Zahkraz replied, smiling. "For I am the greatest friend you could ever have, as it will be through my guidance that you will defeat the Toa and collect the peace of freedom from their cold, dead bodies."

He turned back to Okmyon, who had just finished getting the forge up and running. "Now, Krutoa," he said, "watch, and marvel, as metal and fire combine to make the most fearsome death-dealing instruments your vengeful minds could ever imagine."

And so the Krutoa did watch, as Okmyon began the long process of making weapons for them to carry in their sharp hands.

His work started with creating what Zahkraz referred to as molds, which they assumed would help with the shape. Taking several pieces of white marble that had been sitting in the camp, Okmyon used the tips of his weapons to carve shapes into the hard but pliable rock. Strangely, although there were only three Krutoa, he made a total of six molds – three masters, and three duplicates which were reversed copies of the originals. And if that wasn't weird enough, he also drilled a large hole though the bottom of each duplicate mold, though for what reason the Krutoa couldn't even guess.

After the carving was completed, Okmyon placed the copies on top of the masters and aligned the edges exactly with each other. Then, the process of casting the actual weapons began. Taking the first mold and placing it into the forge, he proceeded to head over to a control panel on the side and pressing a large red button. With a great crushing sound, the scrap metal in the back chute began feeding into the forge, turning into what looked very much like Rytrax's Lava. The metal flowed into a heat-resistant bucket inside the forge, which the Krutoa could see through a glass window net to the machine's control panel.

Using two small levers, Okmyon carefully poured the molten metal through the small hole in the first mold, making sure not to spill too much of it on the marble exterior. After a minute, he quickly pressed another button. A burst of steam erupted from within the forge, and the conveyor belt to the left brought the mold out. A few more minutes went by, and then Okmyon carefully took the top mold off of the bottom and placed the lower mold on the ground.

After that, the black Yahzuhk repeated the process twice more, using the other weapon molds and filling them up with the same molten scrap metal that he had poured into the first. All in all, the casting process only took about fifteen minutes, and the cooling process was accelerated considerably by some gentle blasts of water from Masor.

Now, the time had finally come for Okmyon to give the Krutoa their weapons. Beckoning for them to come forward, he proceeded to hand each one of them one of the blades, warning the Krutoa to hold them by their smooth handles. The Krutoa resented this – his casual words had made them look stupid, and the fact that the unusual shapes of their weapons had been confusing them for a moment only made his comment more insulting. Still, they were too excited about their new blades to feel upset for long, and they quickly began asking questions.

"Slow down, slow down!" Okmyon said, silencing them with frantic waves of his hands. "Alright, I'll explain the reasons for my choices of weapons to you – starting with Rytrax."

He turned to the Krutoa of Lava, who held a long, thin blade which was curved at the top and had spikes sticking out of one edge. "Rytrax, watching you fight today has revealed you are know doubt the most powerful and ferocious of the Krutoa. While you are not as precise or as controlled as your sisters, you posses a certain… consistency with your usage of your element of lava. Thus, I decided you would likely fight best with a sword, which is itself a ferocious and consistent weapon. To add to its power, I also molded a set of spikes on the frontal edge, which will allow you to both cleave through and pierce the armor of your opponents with ease."

Before Rytrax could reply, Okmyon quickly turned to Karza, who was holding a pole with a short curved blade sticking out of the end "On the other hand, Karza, my observations of your fighting style told me that you would require a totally different kind of weapon. While your brother attacks with blow after unrelenting blow, you prefer to space your attacks out more, waiting for the right moment to unleash an incredibly fast barrage of acid balls. So, I have given you a scythe – an lightweight, agile weapon that will allow you to move quickly and strike powerfully before your foes can even launch attacks of their own"

Once again, the black Yahzuhk did not wait for Karza to reply. Instead, he rapidly turned to Vidras, who held in her hands a rather unusual weapon that consisted of three triangular blades. "As for you, Vidras, you are much like your sister in that you calculate your blows to a certain extent – perhaps even more than she does. However, unlike Karza, who attacks multiple times before waiting to strike again, you prefer to unleash a single, deadly blast of crystal, waiting until it finds its target before planning your next move. So, I decided that a totally unique weapon was in order. What you hold is what I call a crystal dagger – a small, aerodynamic blade that combines the intense power of a sword with the rapidness of smaller, lighter weapons. With this, your fighting style will be complimented perfectly, letting you fell your enemies like Tulu cactuses stricken by lightning."

After Okmyon had finished speaking, Zahkraz nodded approvingly and turned to the Krutoa. "See, my friends? It takes more than brute strength to gain an advantage you're your opponents – it also takes patience. Now, you each have weapons that truly fit your personality – not to mention your spiked hands."

He smiled. "Now, only one question remains: are you ready to learn the ways of fighting with blades, or are you still confident in your own skill?"

It took a moment for any of the Krutoa reply, for Zahkraz's question had touched upon yet another touchy subject. Though they now grudgingly admitted in their hearts that Zahkraz and his brothers were to thank for their newfound skill, they found it hard to say it out loud. At the very least, they were still largely holding onto the belief that it would be through their own power – not the Yahzuhk's - that the Toa would fall. And yet, they also were committed to gaining every possible advantage against their "righteous" brothers and sisters – even if it meant giving into the Yahzuhk's offer of counsel and training.

"Alright then," Rytrax said slowly. "Let's get going."

"No, let's get fighting." Karza corrected, her face returning to its usual twisted grin.

"No," Vidras interjected, "Let us find our destiny."

Yes, although their words were hesitant, and their faces revealed the rebellion in their hearts, for the first time the Krutoa believed they felt something that they had never felt before. Something that, while fragile, had the potential to finally give them the strength they needed. Something, that inside their twisted minds, they knew was called unity.

For the entire 10000 year existence of the village of Vorza, the task of getting from one end of the Acolyte's Sacred Village had always been regarded as the simplest part of a Zatoran's life. While the land that the village sat in was already somewhat small in size, its prime center of civilization was even tinier. Indeed, a Zatoran in good health and shape could walk from one end of the establishment to the other in five minutes flat, and that was only if the streets were unusually crowded. And, not surprisingly this aspect of their home had always been regarded as a blessing by the villagers of Vorza, and it had only been in the post-Acolyte warfare against the Yahzuhk and Exiled Ones that they had begun to wish they had more "village" to defend.

But, at Vieta rushed across the town towards Wudas's machine shop, this seemingly simplistic and unchallenging task had become one of the most difficult experiences in her life. Only minutes ago, she had helped to bring one of her deceased friends back to life, and now she was already facing the possibility of losing another one of her closest companions to a dreadful assault on his workplace! True, she didn't know anything for sure, for Kitao had been sent to inform her of the attack before anything was confirmed, but she still was shaken to the core. Now, a distance that took merely seconds for her to traverse felt like hours, as her frantic concern brought all senses of time and place to a standstill.

But, in the end, her friend's fate was still an unknown, and it was this realization that forced her mind to return to reality. Running with the speed of a raging Ulanu bull, she reached her friend's place of work in no time. Expecting the worst, she was surprised to find that the building was relatively intact. Aside from haphazardly smashed and enlarged doorway, relatively everything was still in place. Aside from a few tipped-over workbenches, most of the clutter of the machine shop seemed natural - Wudas had never been known for his sense of order.

Speaking of which, Wudas himself was laying against the front of the hut, attended by several members of the Defense Force. To her relief, Vieta saw that his exterior heartlight was still glowing brightly – a sign that meant he was in stable condition. However, his eyes were not open, and it looked as though he had been knocked into a daze by the mysterious attacker.

"Oh, mezu, he's still alive!" Vieta said, relieved but still concerned about her friend's predicament. She faced the attending guards, who were patching several gashes in Wudas's armor. "Has he spoken anything since you found him?"

"Not a word," the lead guard replied. "And without his account of the incident, there's no telling who or what attacked him."

Nodding her head in understanding, Vieta leaned down and pointed to the cuts in Wudas's shoulder armor. "These gashes.. they don't look like they were made by a weapon. Where exactly did you find him knocked out?"

"Over by the window," the guard replied. "We found a box of rusty machine parts under his arm, and I think it's safe to say he was thrown against them with a considerable amount of force."

"You're forgetting the two most important details," the voice of Vieta's second in command called out, as Unar stepped out of the shop with an expression of concern on his face. "One, Wudas was soaking wet when we first found him," he said, pointing to several drops of water still on his mask. "And two, his shop was not just attacked, but robbed."

Vieta frowned. This incident was starting to sound a lot like the time when one of the Yahzuhk had taken weapons from the storage hut – except that while Eloh had operated amidst a diversion created by his brother Tiroz, Wudas's attacker had simply used the cover of darkness to mask his crime.

"So, what exactly was stolen?" Vieta asked Unar. "Come to think of it, why would anyone want to rob my friend's shop when there are so many other places in Vorza with items of more immediate worth?"

"Do the words 'metal forge' ring a bell?" Unar replied.

Vieta raised an eyebrow. "Are you kidding me, Unar? You're saying someone removed the entire metal forge from the shop in a span of a few minutes? I can't imagine how that would be possible."

"Well, all I know is that there's a big empty space where the forge used to be, and another big space where the front door was," Unar replied. "If you have a problem with that, try asking your friend when he wakes up – but don't expect me to have all the answers."

Resisting the urge to slap Unar, Vieta thought over the situation for a moment. "So, our mysterious attacker has both an intense control over water and a hankering for metal-working tools… it couldn't be another Yahzuhk, could it?"

"I'm afraid it is," the voice of Mynor rang through her ears, causing Vieta to whirl around. The crimson servant of the Acolytes had finally caught up with her, along with the three Toa, Kitao, and Miro. The sight of the last being was enough to cause Unar and the other guards to drop their jaws in shock, and Unar in particular had a look of total disbelief on his face.

"Is this some kind of trick?!" Unar shouted angrily. "Are you trying to fool us with some occult magic of yours, Mynor? Miro is dead, you sorcerer, and…"

"Actually, I'm very much alive," Miro said, walking up to Unar and shaking his hand. "For, I was never truly dead, although my spirit was temporarily without a home."

Unar's eyes widened. "You… how is this possible? You can't seriously be alive again – Ska killed you! Vieta avenged you! Your mask was lying on the top of a memorial to dead Zatoran, without a body in sight! You are DEAD!" Pulling his hand out of Miro's grasp, he turned and ran down the street without another word, refusing to turn back and set his eyes upon the resurrected scholar.

Miro sighed. "Well, my return to life is off to a rotten start," he said. "You'd think people would be glad to see me alive again."

"Don't take it personal," one of the guards said nervously. "Unar's always been suspicious when it comes to things beyond the realm of natural causes. As for me… well, I can't really argue with what's standing right before me, even if it seems about as likely as a Morog bear eating grass with the Ulanu bulls."

At this remark, Vieta and Miro couldn't help but laugh, and soon the Toa joined in as well. Even Mynor mustered up a chuckle, although the look on his eyes told Vieta that he had other things on his mine.

"Well, um, Mynor," Vieta said slowly, "what was it you were saying before?"

Mynor's face grew serious. "Good of you to remember, Vieta," he acknowledged. "What I was referring to was that your mysterious attacker was indeed a Yahzuhk, although not one you have faced before. You are familiar with the six forces of Nature, are you not?"

"Well," Vieta said, "My mind's a bit cloudy, but I think I remember them. Let's see, Power, Frost, Poison, Heat, Temors, and… um, Moisture?"

Then, realization came to her eyes. "Wait, now it makes sense! The attacker wasn't just using power over water – he was controlling the force of Moisture!"

"Masor was," Mynor said. "Yes, I know the attacker's name – he is the only Yahzuhk who, until now, had yet to come to Vorza for any reason."

He took a deep breath. "Masor... is unique among the Yahzuhk, in that he prefers to work alone as much as possible. Whereas Tiroz Eloh, Okmyon and Gytaz often team up, and their leader Zahkraz is willing to work with any of them, Masor has never found a true partner among the Yahzuhk, perhaps because of his quiet nature and questionably loyalties. However, he also is skilled enough in both weaponry and control of his Force that he has no need to work with any of the Yahzuhk on missions such as this."

"Missions?" Jorvak asked. "What do you mean? From what I can tell, nobody here knows why Masor came to Vorza in the first place!"

"Well, actually, we know what he came for," Vieta said, pointing inside the machine shop. "He took Wudas' metal forge."

Mynor's eyes lit up slightly. "As I suspected," he said. "The Yahzuhk are indeed going to great measures to equip their newfound servants."

"Huh?" one of the guards remarked. "I though the Exiled Ones already had weapons?"

"Oh, they do, but that is not who I am referring to," Mynor replied. "I am talking about the Krutoa."

When no one replied, Mynor sighed and folded his hands. "You may have not guessed this from your encounter with Okmyon days ago, but the Yahzuhk of Tremors is not merely a resourceful fighter. No, his true talents lie in metalwork. It is obvious to me that, in an attempt to better equip the Krutoa for another assault on this village, Zahkraz has commissioned Okmyon to make weapons for their unknowing slaves."

Vieta's eyes narrowed. "So that's why Masor stole the forge! I should have seen this before – there's no other reason why any being would want to go to such lengths to steal a simple piece of machinery!"

"So, I guess that means we'll be seeing Rytrax and his sisters again pretty soon," Jorvak said, shaking his head. "And to think I thought we had taught them a lesson.

"No, I don't think we did," Ebsmod said regretfully. "In fact, we probably only made them more obsessed with getting revenge."

"And why blame them?" Luha said. "True, they want to defeat us, but are we any better? Already, we've gone to viewing them as the enemy, rather than beings that need to be cured of their madness and anger. I admit that I'm struggling with even considering Rytrax a fallen brother – part of me just wants to treat him like a mindless monster and ignore his connection to me!"

"Which I bet is exactly what Zahkraz wants," Ebsmod added. "By turning our brothers and sisters into our enemies, he's just encouraging us to tear each other apart, leaving Vorza without any guardians to defend the Zatoran from his wrath."

"Great, and I thought this was just going to be a battle versus good and evil!" Jorvak remarked. "If Zahkraz has enough power to blur the line between the two, then how are we supposed to survive this?"

Although the Toa didn't have an answer to Jorvak's question, Mynor did. "You survive, Toa, by keeping one foot ahead of the other at all times," he said. "Zahkraz and his brothers prey on ignorance and foolishness – and it is your job to break through the confusion they create while maintaining your unity. You have already taken the first step – you have realized that the Krutoa are not true enemies, nor are they truly evil. They have simply been the victim of another being's unrighteous deeds, and thus they do not know what is right and what is wrong."

Before anyone could reply, a faint but familiar voice began groaning. Turing around, Vieta saw that Wudas, who was still lying back on the wall of the machine shop, was beginning to stir. His heartlight, which had been stable but slightly dimmer than normal, was now glowing as brightly as ever, and his breathing had become louder and stronger. With a great gasp, his eyes flashed open, and he became conscious once more.

"Ugh, next time I decide to work at night, I might as well wear extra armor," he muttered.

Vieta smiled brightly, and quickly gave Wudas a hug. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Wudas," she said happily. "You feeling okay?"

"As good as anyone can feel after being thrown against a table with the force of a landslide," Wudas replied, smiling back slightly. "Unfortunately, I can't remember a thing after that. Hopefully I didn't damaged my mind or something, otherwise…."

Then, the Zatoran mechanic noticed that someone else was standing right next to him. Someone who was green and grey, had three legs, and had been known for hundreds of years as the finest scholar in Mirazis' history. Oh, and someone who had also died a few weeks before.

"Never mind, I think I did hurt something tonight," Wudas groaned. "Unless it's normal to see hallucinations of former villagers standing right next to me."

"I'm no hallucination, Wudas," Miro said, helping Wudas to stand up on his own four legs. "Although, you might not think that with the reactions I've been getting today."

"But..but how?" Wudas stuttered. "How can you still be alive?"

"Good question," Miro replied, smiling. "And it's one I think I'm going to be having to answer soon – preferably in front of the entire village, so I don't have to explain a zamuzilion times. And speaking of which, I think somebody is going to have to explain to me who these Krutoa are – I can't recall coming across anything like them in my studies."

Even considering the severity of the situation with the Toa and their twisted brothers and sisters, Vieta couldn't help but chuckle. Miro had only been living again for a few minutes now, and already his mind was drifting back to his years of scholarly work in his bookshelf-laden hut. Already, despite all the craziness of the day, she sensed he wanted things to get back to his life. And that to her was a greater encouragement in Mirazis's dark times than anything she had experienced before, for it gave her hope that, perhaps, the battle against the Yahzuhk would soon be over.

Back beyond the cliffs of Rauga and the plains of Urjad, the shores of the Tar river had been practically abandoned. Although the Exiled Ones' makeshift camp still remained, all of its inhabitants had left to watch the Yahzuhk train the Krutoa in the art of fighting with weapons– or, as the late villager Yazohu had called that practice, "learning how to skewer meat on a stick."

Now, only two villagers remained. One was Bizor, the resident idiot who had little important to say and even less that made sense. Being laden with a spilt personality, he had always been nothing more than an insane annoyance to practically every other Exiled One – and that was before he had ended up with two heads. Now, he had become a literal embodiment of the expression "arguing with yourself," for his personality had been spilt equally across his newfound duplicity. This, of course, left him without the willpower to make his two heads agree on basic issues – or the unanimous desire to watch "meaningless acts of destruction," as his more passive head had called the Krutoa's training.

However, the other villager who had stayed behind had a far more complex reason than simple indecisiveness. Once, a long time ago, he had enjoyed watching other beings beat themselves up as much as he enjoyed doing the beating up himself. But now, with the advent of his release from his imprisonment in Krall, he was solely concerned with his carnage-making abilities. And that was why he, Gakso, had stayed behind, choosing to spend his time on more important things – such as improving the two insufficiently ferocious axes that he had been given by the Yahzuhk.

Holding one of his weapons over a makeshift fire, Gakso began using some tools the Yahzuhk had stolen from Vorza to carve a new shape out of the blade of the axe. One was something like a sharp wrench with an adjustable blade – which he used to twist and rip parts of the blade out like they were paper. The other was a hammer, which allowed him to then smoothen the rough edges of the shape with some well-placed smashes and bangs. When I'm done with these weapons, he thought, they'll be the most unique weapons in the entire land of Mirazis – not to mention the sharpest.

As he worked tirelessly on his "project," Gakso's mind drifted back to the days when he had once done this kind of work for a living in the village of Vorza. Long ago, when he was still a good little Zatoran, he had been one of the two chief metal-workers in the Acolytes' "sacred" village, the other being his companion Rigar. In those days, making metal into useful objects was a tough, precise art, which was done mainly over incredibly hot stoves and days of work. Gakso, who had then been called Vakohse, worked primarily on making weapons, while Rigar preferred to make more "peaceful" things like gardening tools and kitchen utensils. It was hard work, but Vakohse loved it, and he couldn't imagine his life any other way.

But then, in a span of a single year, everything changed. For a while then, rumors had been surfacing that Kirizon, the chief mechanic at the time, and his assistant Wudas, had been working on a new project that they said would change metal-work in Vorza forever. At the time, Vakohse had laughed – through the entire history of Vorza, mechanics had always worked on assembling advanced machines, and they rarely ever made particularly large parts on their own. It was simply a fact that only metal-smiths had the know-how to work with metal at its rawest form – so why would Kirizon and Wudas claim otherwise?

The answer came sooner than he had wished. On the eve of an average day in Yamora, or late spring, Wudas invited Vakohse over to a large, seemingly unused hut. For a while, Gakso had suspected that something important was behind the locked doors of that particular building, but he hadn't cared enough to find out what. Walking into the hut, the answer laid right before his eyes, as he gazed upon a huge, boxy contraption with four conveyor belts, glass windows, control panels on each side, and multiple smokestacks running straight through the ceiling.

Wudas told him that this was what he and his master called a mechanical forge – a machine that could drastically reduce both the labor and time required to make weapons and tools for the village. Pressing a few buttons, he then demonstrated how, using a combination of molana marble molds and the contraption, metal could simply be melted down and formed into precise shapes, removing the need to use existing pieces of solid metal to make complex objects.

As Vakohse watched scrap metal became melted metal and molten metal become a tironium shortsword in a matter of minutes, his mind began to fill with anger. This… this machine, would not only eliminate the need for any real skill when working with metal, but it would also put him and Rigar right out of a job! That is, unless they also switched to using machines to do their work – something he was sure his companion would never agree to. And even if Rigar liked the idea, as long as the rest of the village was reluctant to put their trust in a machine, skill and hard work would still prevail in Vorza!

However, things did not go as Vakohse planned. Even as he tried to spread rumors of the "age of cheap, careless machines" that would be coming upon the village, the anticipation for the reveal of Kirizon and Wudas's project grew even greater. And, when the day finally came for them to demonstrate the machine in front of the entire village, molding a single dagger was all it took to convince everyone of the mechanical forge's worth.

Everyone, except Vakohse, who refused to attend the demonstration. He was both infuriated and heartbroken, for he felt as though life would never be the same. Seeing this, Wudas rushed over to Vakohse's home soon after and offered to teach him how to use the new machine, just as he would teach Rigor. He even offered to create a smaller version that Vakohse could install in his own shop, which would allow him to once again find a role in Zatoran society.

Instead, Vakohse's mind turned to sabotage, which lead him right to a high-minded Zatoran of Crystal named Sario. Being an extremely clever and convincing villager, Sario quickly drafted Vakohse into a great scheme that he said would "ensure that every Zatoran will have an equal chance at life," and that would "make survival based totally on skill, rather than on outside help." These goals resonated deeply with Vakohse, who felt as though he had been unfairly kicked out of his place in society and wanted to return his "unworthy replacements" to the "scrapheap where they used to lie." So, he eagerly joined Sario in his "noble" quest, never once realizing that the white-armored Zatoran's plan would involve an attempt to release one of the Seven Ancient Evils from its prison and would ultimately wind up exiling them all to the wasteland of Krall.

Now bitter belief, and laden with a horrible sounding slang name, Gakso turned to violence as his way of dealing with his problems. Instead of dwelling on his mistakes, he ignored them, and used his time to beat up other Exiled Ones for their own shortcomings. Almost everyone who he fought grew to fear him, for he knew just the right ways to make a mutated Zatoran feel pain without permanently injuring them, and his bitterness only increased the efficiency of his bullying. But, then, no one even realized that anger was the reason for his violence – for upon reaching Krall, he had vowed that he would always wear a smile on his face – or at least as much as possible. It was this smiling, he had once remarked to himself, that would instill in him a belief that it was better off for him to rebel then to fall sway to technological change, It was this smiling, that would remind him that his motive had been noble and righteous, even though he had failed.

With a great bang, Gakso accidentally smashed the metal he had been working on in two, which proceeded to fall into the fire and become black as smoke.

"Smaturg!" he cursed. "It's worthless now!" All the recollections he had been having had only served to make him angry, which in turn had ruined both his concentration and his axe.

He sighed. Now he would have to start over, and with a brand new piece at that. He knew he still had the skill to make a piece of tironium or protanium into an adequate weapon – but that wasn't the problem! The problem was, without a suitably hot furnace or brand new tools, his ability to work with metal was severely impaired.

Looking over his shoulder, he gazed at the metal forge that Okmyon had used to make the Krutoa's weapons. There's always that monstrosity of a contraption, he thought. But even if I could muster up enough willpower to use my greatest object of contempt, I have no idea how to run it!

As if he had heard Gakso's thoughts, the Yahzuhk's black armored mechanic suddenly climbed over the hill separating the camp from the Urjad Plains. "Having difficulties?" he said wryly, as Gakso looked at him with surprise.

"Were you here all this time?" Gakso asked, with a bit of annoyance in his voice.

"Long enough to see your frustration get the better of you," Okmyon said. "I decided soon after beginning to train the Krutoa that the others would be able to handle them on their own, and I felt I deserved a break for all the hard work I had done this previous evening."

"But, you didn't do this without Zahkraz's permission, did you?" Gakso asked nervously, remembering how much the other Yahzuhk were loyal to their leader.

"Oh, of course not," Okmyon replied, winking. "But enough of that – let's take a look at what you've been doing, shall we?"

Pulling one of his seismic bullet launchers off his back, Okmyon used the tip to fish the burnt axe head Gakso had been working on out of the fire. Testing it to make sure it wasn't too hot, he gently picked it up with his other hand.

"Ah, not bad – not bad at all,' Okmyon muttered, looking over the piece of metal with approval. "Sure, it's a bit rough around the edges, but there's also some real signs of precision and talent."

"You think so?" Gakso asked, unsure of Okmyon was serious or simply mocking him.

"Oh, I know so, what with all the years I've worked on metal myself," Okmyon replied. "In fact, I would go so far as to say it still is very salvageable, even with all the obvious damage the fire caused to the surface. A little sanding will get rid of the charred exterior with ease, and a bit of careful surgery will still allow you to get the shape you were intending."

He smiled, and put his hand on Gakso's shoulder. "Let's see if we can't make you a nice set of weapons, huh two-tails?" he said, grinning.

Gakso grinned back, and not just because Okmyon was going to fix his weapons for him. No, the real reason he was smiling was because, that simple little nickname Okmyon had attached to the end of his words had told Gakso that, despite his diminutive size and weakening mutations, he still was as an important part of the Yahzuhk's clan as anyone. They were truly, ultimately, allies, and allies that would stick together until Mirazis was crushed beneath the blades of their weapons.

Chapter Fourteen

Weapons of Fate

The Urjad Plains, even while serving as the temporary home of the Yahzuhk and Exiled Ones, had not been known for carnage and danger. Though it was a land of mainly dust and rock, for most of Mirazis's history an armed Zatoran could come here without putting himself in much danger. And even after the Rahi had begun acting erratically and the enemies of Vorza had made it their temporary home, it still could not compare to the dangers of other parts of Mirazis.

This, of course, had all changed once the Krutoa had arrived on the scene. Much of the natural life of the region had now been wiped out by these twisted shells of beings, and the Yahzuhk's battling with both them and Mynor had cemented the area as one of the most violent places in Mirazis. Yes, Urjad was no longer the relatively peaceful plain of history past, for it had been tainted with violence beyond compare.

Even knowing this, however, the Exiled Ones still could not believe what they were seeing before their eyes. For at this very moment, they were watching a brawl unlike any other unfolding in front of them. Though its size was relatively small – only the three Krutoa and Masor were actually battling each other – it was more intense than anything they had seen before. And, after all the violence they had seen since their escape from Krall, this was a most surprising turn of events.

"Take this!" Karza shouted at Masor, as she flung her scythe around her body in a half-circle. Trying to catch the Yahzuhk of Moisture off guard, she suddenly jerked it forward and into the sand where he had been standing moments before. He had escaped of course, but Masor had assured the Krutoa that none of them would be able to touch him. As long as they were able to keep their own ground and him on edge, he would declare the training exercise successful.

"Not so lazy now, are you Masor?" Karza gloated. "I think it's safe to say that I've passed this test."

Masor frowned. "Not in the least," he said sternly. As soon as the words had left his mouth, he lunged at Karza with newfound intensity. His two blades snaked towards her body in complex, aerodynamic maneuvers, nearly striking the Krutoa of Acid several times. However, Karza kept her ground – if only barely.

After a minute, Masor backed down and relaxed his limbs. "Now you have passed the test, Krutoa," he said with grudging approval, in a way that suggested he was only giving them a good grade because his master insisted on it. "But be thankful that I am restraining myself – for if I was to attack you with all of my strength and skill, you would not last long enough to utter even a final plea of death."

"Perhaps she wouldn't," Vidras said from the sidelines. "But perhaps I would."

"And what makes you so sure you'll last any longer than I will?" Karza retorted. "Is it your shiny white armor, or perhaps the size of your blade? Oh, I know – it's because you've got such a wonderful, multipurpose element, isn't it?"

Vidras strode up to Karza and crossed her arms. "No – it's because I wasn't so arrogant as to announce when I thought my test was over."

Before Karza could reply with an insult of her own, Masor stood between them. "You fools still don't get it, do you?" he spat. "Had I been allowed to do this my way, neither of you would still have any life to call you own. It is only under Zahkraz's orders that I am forced to be… soft on you. But there may come a time when I will not show this restraint – unless you follow each and every one of my lessons to the letter and restrain yourself from making any more foolish statements!"

Neither Karza nor Vidras said anything for a moment, but eventually the former chimed in with a few words of defiance. "Maybe, Masor," she said, "but at least I actually passed the test, unlike some morons around here!"

She of course, was referring to Rytrax, who was also standing on the sidelines after several failed attempts to emulate his sisters' skill. It was rather obvious to Krutoa, Yahzuhk, and Exiled One alike that he was proving to be the toughest of the three corrupted Toa to train, and some were wondering in their heads whether he would ever gain at least a basic understanding of the fine arts of sword-fighting.

But Masor was unfazed. "And yet you act like this is something to be proud of, Krutoa?" he admonished Karza. "As long as one of you continues to fight so crudely and unskillfully, you will not stand a chance against Luha and your brothers. As long as he is unable to succeed, you will also fail – and fail miserably at that."

Satisfied but unwavering, Masor waited for an answer from one of his students. And it came – in the form of a bloodthirsty scream from Rytrax, who charged at Masor with his blade aimed right at his back. The Krutoa of Lava obviously was sick of hearing about his perceived failures, and he seemed ready to show everyone assembled that he could do far more than simply fight a Yahzuhk.

Unimpressed, Masor whirled around and met Rytrax's weapon with his own blades. Latching onto the spaces between the spikes of the Krutoa's sword, he wrenched it from his trainee's hands and threw it over his head. He immediately followed that action with a powerful series of kicks to Rytrax's chest, which sent him flying back into a cactus with a great explosion of plant matter.

Masor laughed harshly. "You moron!" he shouted at Yahzuhk. "You incompetent kobork! Do you really think you'd be able to surprise me with an attack like that? As long as that thick, rage-filled head of yours continues to control your every action, you will never defeat the Toa!"

Pulling himself off of the remains of the Tulu cactus, Rytrax's only response was to grit his teeth and tighten his grip on his sword. "I… will… defeat the Toa…" he growled, unable to control his furious shivering. "And… I will defeat you, Masor!" In a flash, he charged at the blue-armored Yahzuhk, holding his sword over his head.

Sighing in frustration, Masor stood calmly before Rytrax and prepared to block another one of his clumsy attacks. As the Krutoa neared, he casually held out his torrent blades and spun them around. "Try all you can, kilarg," he mocked, "but you'll never defeat me with an attack as obvious as…"

With a great burst of red energy, Rytrax slammed his sword into Masor's weapons and sent him soaring backwards. The Yahzuhk of Moisture smashed into a rock spire, losing his weapons and creating a cloud of red sparks that set several plants on fire. As he weakly picked himself up, the other Krutoa, the Exiled Ones, and even the Yahzuhk stared at him and Rytrax with great interest.

"How… how did he do that?" Tiroz exclaimed, showing genuine shock on his face. He could tell that Eloh and Gytaz were also surprised, although Zahkraz as usual remained impeccably calm.

Meanwhile, Masor had gathered his weapons back up and was now stomping towards the leader of the Yahzuhk. "Nobody – and I mean nobody - has ever succeeded in disarming me with an attack like that before," he shouted. "There is something afoot with this Krutoa, and I know you have an explanation, Zahkraz."

"Indeed I do," Zahkraz acknowledged, smiling with amusement at Masor's angry demands. "And I must say that it's rather pleasing to me that you've actually address your leader with newfound confidence in his intellect."

At these odd words, Vidras raised an eyebrow. Until now, she had assumed that all the other Yahzuhk considered Zahkraz an infallible leader, as they had generally addressed him with respect and followed his instructions with earnest. But… perhaps that was not the case with every one of them. From the moment she had met Masor, she had determined him to be a loner, in the same way that she was especially reluctant to form relationships with other beings. Perhaps this attitude also affected his loyalty to Zahkraz – if he was loyal to him at all.

Before she could contemplate the matter further, Zahkraz interrupted her thoughts with words directed at Rytrax. "Krutoa," he said, "I must congratulate you on your defeat of my brother. I may have created you, but it seems that even I have things to learn about your nature."

"Things like what?" Rytrax said angrily. "I thought you Yahzuhk were so certain I was just a simplistic brute. That is what you've been thinking about me, isn't it?"

"No more simplistic than Gytaz," Zahkraz replied, "and he is one of the most powerful members of our brotherhood. However. what I was referring to was not any skill or personality you might possess, but the mysterious power you unleashed during your attack."

"You mean that red energy that covered his body, don't you?" Karza said. "Oh great, as if he doesn't already have too much power for his own good."

"What red energy?" Rytrax shouted. "I didn't notice anything – I was so angry that -"

"Exactly, anger," Zahkraz cut him off. "Or rather, hatred. That is the key to your mysterious power, and it explains how you were able to disarm such a seasoned warrior as Masor so effortlessly."

"Viskeeta," Masor murmured. "Of course… I should have recognized it instantly!"

"Yeah, you should have, brother," Tiroz mocked. "But then again, we all should have."

Rytrax growled. "Will someone tell me what is going on?" he yelled. "What is this power that you think I have?"

Zahkraz smiled. "Viskeeta," he explained, "is one of many powers a being can harness by channeling the nine corrupted virtues through your very essence. Hatred, to be specific, is something that defines your attitude towards my brother, and so it is no wonder that you have now gained the power of Viskeeta, or the Incursion of Hatred. In moments of extreme and utter contempt, a being who possesses this power can break through even the toughest defenses, propelled by mystical energies that give you extreme momentary strength."

Rytrax, of course, had no idea what the "nine corrupted virtues" were, nor did he understand how they could give a being strength that he did not actually possess. But neither did he care, for he realized that this new power would allow him to smash the Toa's defenses without the need of weapons practice. And he liked this very much.

"Alright, I've heard enough!" Rytrax shouted. "I may not be as skilled with my blade as Karza and Vidras are, but it looks like I won't need any skill to defeat my enemies! So let's go shred those Toa into scrap metal and get what we came for!"

Karza grinned. Finally, they were getting somewhere, and for once she didn't care that another being had an advantage that she didn't. "I'm right behind you, Rytrax," she said. "Let's move quickly so we can get there by nightfall!" Karza added.

"Not so fast, Krutoa," Zahkraz said, halting them in mid-flight. "While you may now be equally matched against the Toa, mindlessly charging into their "great city" will only ensure that your enemies still have the advantage."

"And what do you suggest we do, then?" Vidras retorted. "Do you not expect us to face the Toa the second we find them?" Once again, the Yahzuhk were expecting the Krutoa to be something that they weren't, and to restrain the very desires of their hearts!

"As a matter of fact," Zahkraz replied, "if you are going to go about this the smart way, then no, I don't." Seeing the confused glances in their eyes, he sighed and explained his words. "Think about it – when you fought the Toa the first time, you caught them off guard, and as a result much of their village was destroyed. Knowing that you have the power to accomplish such a feat, they will be much better prepared next time you arrive in the village. More importantly, they will make sure that the Zatoran are ready to defend them as well, placing themselves behind the protection of the entire Vorzian Defense Force."

"So, they're cowards," Rytrax said. "Why does that matter?"

Zahkraz smiled. "Because, now that you know their strategy, you have a chance of outsmarting them and catching them by surprise again."

A minute of silence went by, as the Krutoa considered Zahkraz's words. Although they each had their various fighting styles, none of them had quite yet learned how to incorporate strategy into their attacks. Even Vidras, who seemed rather methodological on the outside, really only knew how to strategize during a fight – not before. But, although they did not have the shrewdness to beat the Toa at their own game, they knew someone who did. And that someone was standing right in front of them.

"Tell us what you have in mind," Vidras said to Zahkraz, once again echoing the thoughts of her fellow Krutoa.

Tossing books here and there, Miro frantically scrambled around his hut, attempting in vain to locate an extremely crucial object. His office had always been a mess, but it seemed that during his temporary soul-sleep it had gotten even more disorderly. Many of his most important volumes had been moved around from their usual locations, and his desk was piled high with writing instruments, translation notes, and various trinkets he had gathered over the years. There were also several dirtbark shelves hung over his desk that displayed various possessions of the previous nine scholars, which had been handed down over the years as a private collection of sorts.

"Of course, silly me!" Miro said, rolling his eyes. Reaching up behind a decorated box on the tallest shelf, he pulled out his secret journal and opened it to the most recent entry. There was a blank space on the opposite page, which he proceeded to fill with a hurried note on his condition. "Year 10000, month Alita, day 12. Today I finally made it back to the real world. It's a miracle that I'm even still living, and everyone in Vorza seems to agree. I've assured the village in public that I'm no ghost, as well as explained to them the entire situation. Needless to say, I think it will take a while for my return to set in."

Putting down his charcoal pencil, he relaxed in his chair and sighed happily. "It's good to be back," he said with relief. Trying to explain to the average Zatoran the complexities of spirit anchoring was not an easy task, and he had been all too thankful when Vieta had eventually dismissed the crowd. Though her friend was lacking a fourth arm and had reportedly faced other difficulties as well, she was still insistent on putting the health of her friends before her own reputation. The Zatoran were not all satisfied with the answers they had received, but in Vieta's own words, "Rest comes before resolution."

Now, if only he could actually get some sleep! Unfortunately, he was so wound up that he had been unable to get some needed rest, and it seemed writing in his journal had not eased his excitement. Though Vieta had strongly warned against it, Miro wondered if catching up on his prophecy studies would help calm him down.

A knock on his door was sufficient to derail this train of thought. In the two-hundred and thirty seven years of his life, no one had ever knocked on his door at nighttime – save for that one incident during the Ghoulbiters war. And that had also been the night he had been kidnapped by the ghoulish monsters of the conflict's namesake, which was enough to make him question whether he should open the door now.

"I don't mean to be rude," Miro said nervously, "but if you're looking for me, than I do hope you don't intend to feast on my soul."

"Then it's a good thing I'm no Ghoulbiter," a voice answered. "Otherwise I'd be forced to search for more cooperative prey."

Ah, that must be the red giant, Miro thought. I suppose it won't harm me to open the door for him. Getting out of his chair, Miro went over and unbolted the triple latches attached to the door's interior. As soon as he had done so, the door creaked open and was replaced by the crouched form of Mynor.

"I apologize for waking you from your rest," the giant said, with a twinkle in his eye. "Though, I've never heard anyone sleep as violently as you do."

Miro rolled his eyes. "Vieta was right about how smart you are. Let me guess – she sent you to make sure I was asleep."

"Close," Mynor said. "Actually, I asked if I could see you on my own. The fact that she agreed tells me that she didn't expect you to be sleeping either. But, that kind of awareness comes naturally through long friendships, as I'm sure you have learned."

Miro smiled. "Look, I know you're not just here to instruct me on things I already understand. I've spent most of my life learning about you and your masters, and that kind of diligence leads to a more thorough understanding of your ways than most Zatoran have the privilege of possessing."

Mynor smiled back. "You're absolutely right concerning your first statement, although I would warn you not to be so sure about the second. The Acolytes have far more complex a nature than any book can do justice too – or any library, for that matter."

"Well…" Miro began, unsure what to say. It seemed that Mynor had shattered his previous confidence, and now he was hesitating to make any further statements about his nature. Deciding that it was best just to remain silent about his mistake, he turned back to his book-laden desk and picked up a very familiar volume. "It's about this, isn't it?" he said, showing the book to Mynor. "After all, if I'm right, this is the whole reason why this happened to me."

Mynor's expression did not change. "Ah, very good, Miro. Though, I'm rather certain it didn't take much effort from you to determine that."

Reaching out a hand, he motioned for Miro to hand the book to him. Nodding, Miro placed it in his giant palm, looking almost relieved to be giving the volume away. Mynor proceeded to gently flip through the pages with one of his enormous fingers, stopping at one that Miro recognized instantly. After all, it was hard not to recognize a page dominated by a charred drawing of the symbol of Pure Evil.

"This book… it is rather interesting, to say the least," Mynor remarked. "What can you tell me about it?"

Miro sighed. "I was hoping you wouldn't ask me, but I guess it's only to be expected. To answer your question, this book means far more to me than any other book in my library, for it is unique in that it holds more than knowledge." He paused for a moment, before continuing. "In a way, it also holds the memories of my former master Ceratus. This was the last book that he ever read with sane eyes – the last book he read before I had to take up his mantle. He used this very volume to summon the curse that drove him insane, and I've found it hard not to forget about it."

Mynor nodded his head. "Understandable. But are you so certain that this is all it holds? Or is there something else you are not telling me?"

Miro frowned. "What do you… I don't understand."

"Let me put it this way," Mynor explained. "When you no doubt found this book next to your former master, all those years ago, how did you feel? More specifically, how did you feel when you picked it up in your hands?"

It took a moment before Miro was able to reply. "I felt… I felt powerful," he finally said. "I felt like I was being given a taste of what true might encompasses. It was an almost undetectable feeling, but at the same time I didn't feel quite as concerned about Ceratus, the moment I took the book from his shivering hands."

His eyes lit up. "Of course…." He muttered. "I should have realized that the moment I took interest in the Acolyte magic. I wasn't merely trying to do good for my village – I wasn't really interested in that at all!"

"You were interested in the power," Mynor finished for him. "And no wonder. When Ceratus summoned the dark fire that ended his sane life, he left a residue of evil energy upon the book. A residue that proved very tantalizing to you – just as all evil feels tantalizing to those who taste it for the first time. That is the way of Eenaka – it cuts through even the most steadfast morality, tempting beings with its forbidden fruits of power and might."

He put his hand on Miro's shoulder. "But you should not feel ashamed of your initial actions. Though it may have seemed as if you only cared about power, I can tell that for many years you were insistent on using magic for righteous, peaceful means. The thought of using one of the forbidden curses may have come to your mind initially, but you were able to push them away up until the last few weeks of your life. Am I right?"

Miro nodded his head. "Yes, I suppose you are. In fact, I didn't even use that book as much for magic as I did for my regular work. Although my library is huge, I often found myself going back to my 'book of magic,' as it contains a large number of important prophecies that have helped my research immensely. Actually, this was the very book that I used to predict the fall of your…. I mean… "

"My masters," Mynor said solemnly. "Don't be ashamed to say it – it is only natural that a scholar such as yourself would be interested in such dire predictions. It is your job to pass on knowledge to your fellow villagers, even if it contains not an ounce of joy or happiness. Just as it is my job to protect Mirazis, even if I never once see a speck of hope is its future."

"And… you're saying you don't?" Miro asked timidly.

"No, not in the least," Mynor assured him. "But there may come a time when I am not so hopeful, and my only will be to persevere in my loyalty to the Zatoran against all evil and unrighteousness. It is a lesson that all of us should take to our hearts – for there is no telling what Darkness has in store for our home."

He turned away, and began to leave the doorway. "I only have one more question for you Miro. I don't expect you to answer it today, nor even in the next week, but it is something that you must consider if you are to learn from your mistakes."

Seconds away from shutting Miro's door, he suddenly whiled around and faced the scholar again. "Think about it Miro – think about the very first time you cast a spell, and ask yourself: did you regret it?"

And then he left, gently clanking the door shut and leaving Miro to consider his grave, disturbing words.

To all who had lived in Vorza, the Cavern of Cleansing Waters was as much an extension of their village as it was a place of restoration and relief. This mysterious cavern, located to the northeast of the sacred village of the Acolyte, consisted solely of numerous crystal-clear pools of liquid, which had the power to heal the damage and clean the dirt that Zatoran accumulated over time. It was a place where the villagers of Mirazis could truly feel safe and at peace, which was why it had become their "home away from home."

But, to the Exiled Ones, who had recently claimed the Cleansing Waters as their own for a short period of time, it was neither a place of shelter nor of healing. To them, it was only death, for their mutated bodies dissolved upon touching the pure liquid of the pools. This had become doubly true when, during a battle against the Zatoran for the rule of Mirazis, a mad warrior had killed several of their own by knocking them into the waters. They were never to be seen again, dissolved in their entirety and leaving nothing behind.

Nothing behind, that is, except for a being who embodied all of their inner rage and hatred – all of their utter contempt for Mirazis and those who lived in it. More than that, however, this being embodied a concept that even they feared. A concept that defined the chaos and anarchy one particular Exiled One had lived by, leading others to their doom in the name of ultimate power. A concept, that this being had become.

Eenaka… a voice whispered through the monster's head. You are Eenaka. You are the Essence of pure evil, and all those who stand in your way shall bow before you. The land of Mirazis has never seen such a power – you are Eeska, the ultimate embodiment of might!

"I AM EESKA!" the monster screamed. It was all he could say, for he now only felt pure, unrestrained Rage. His memories of his past life had been lost, to the point where he could not even remember if he had existed before his rebirth. For he was not a creation with no origin – he had been reborn, out of a pool of cleansing water that had been the end of his previous identity. Once, he had only been Ska, a rebellious Zatoran-turned-Exiled One who clamored for greater power. But now he WAS power – the Ee that had been added to his name had added to his strength as well.

Your time has come, Eeska, the voice inside his head told him. Whether this voice was just his subconscious or the very voice of Eenaka, he did not know, but as long as it told him what he wanted to hear, he would not ignore it. What shall your first victim be?

"My victim…. My victim shall be the first being who I meet!" Eeska shouted.

Indeed it shall, the voice said. But where shall you find that victim? Search, Eeska – reach out with your mind. All beings have some rage in their hearts, and as long as they do, they shall not be able to hide from you!

"No, they SHALL NOT!" Eeska screamed. Instantly, the colors of the land around him were replaced with pure blackness – save for a few red blotches to the left of his sight. "Rage… I sense it… not far from here!"

Very good… very good, the voice congratulated him. Now, go, and show them the true power of Rage!"

"I shall…. I SHALL!" Eeska screamed again. Guided only by the anger of the nearby beings, he lumbered off to claim his first life. Yes, he would show no mercy, even while so new to his powers and strength. This was his existence now – a mindless weapon of evil against all who stood in his way – whether they served the Light or the Darkness. He was above them all, and they would all bow before him. Soon, Mirazis would bow before him… before Eeska!

Chapter Fifteen

A Monster's Cry

*author's note: at this point, I fucking gave up, for reasons that I can not recall. However, I had already written the epilogue. Enjoy trying to figure out what the hell happened between chapter 14 and this, lol.*

Epilogue

Power Restored

Growling and groaning in pain, Eeska limped across the grasses of Rauga Valley towards the base of the Huyaza Mountains. He grimaced and snarled as he recalled the ferocious battle he had had against the red titan called Mynor. While his armored foe had given him scores of bruises and had shattered the metal skeleton of his left leg, he had failed to inflict anything worse than a few scratches upon the red defender of Mirazis.

This angered him – no, it infuriated him, and brought his force of Rage out unlike ever before. Grass and trees all around him burst into flames as his glowing body emitted the cold fury that filled his heart, and the ground around him was shaking before the livid shivers of his body. Even with all his unrelenting anger - even with all the power of Rage – he had still failed to defeat Mynor, and thus had failed to cause the incredible destruction he desired.

And so, furious beyond words, he was dragging himself to the place where his short-lived crusade of carnage had begun: the Cleansing Waters. This had been his birthplace – where his old former self had died and where Eeska had been born. Why he was doing this, he did not know – for he had realized on the day he dedicated himself to Pure Evil that there was no going back from its purposeless life of Darkness. It was as if the waters were calling him – as if his creators had summoned him to their still liquid and were urging him to reflect on what little life he had left.

Dragging his broken leg across the ground, he pulled himself into the cave and slumped down in front of the same pool that he had jumped out of less than a week ago. He grimaced as the reflection of his hideous face came into view, tarnishing the smooth, beautiful surface of the pool's water with unspeakable ugliness. His eyes narrowed, and he screamed with all his might.

"WHY HAVE YOU BROUGHT ME HERE?!" he shouted. "WHY HAVE YOU FAILED ME?! YOU GAVE ME THIS POWER, BUT YOU DID NOT GIVE ME ENOUGH!" He felt as if he had been betrayed, conned into a new life that had only succeeded in giving him pain and misery. All of his might, all of his Rage, had failed him in his most crucial moment. The pools had failed him, and he now wished that they had never given him anything besides… death?

"DEATH?!" he screamed. "YOU TRIED TO GIVE ME DEATH?! YOU HAVE BEEN TRICKING ME ALL ALONG, SCUM!" Angry beyond words, he unleashed a bolt of energy at the surface of the pool. It plunged into the waters and sunk to the bottom, smashing into the floor and causing a geyser of liquid to erupt. Try as he might, he could not avoid the water entirely, and a small amount splashed onto his forehead.

He hollered in pain as the water absorbed into his head, touching his brain with the force of what felt like lightning bolts piercing flesh. His mind exploded with a flurry of memories and thoughts, all condensed into a mound of complete gibberish that was overloading his senses and his emotions. He rolled on the floor, hands cradling his head, as he prepared for the inevitable mental explosion that would end his pointless existence.

But as fate would have it, something very different occurred. Instead of eating away at his consciousness, the blast of thoughts and feelings began to expand. Gradually, the individual pieces of information broke away from each other, held in place only by a faint, invisible force that was as mystical as it was bizarre. Then, strings of mental energy began to form, connecting the bits of info in millions of locations and forming a tight web that could have been mistaken for the compact lump which had once been in its place.

Opening his eyes and taking his hands off his head, Eeska pulled himself up and tried to comprehend what had happened. Why was he alive? Wasn't he supposed to be dead? And why did he feel so… different? At first, nothing came to him – and his mind was blank. For a second, he believed that he had merely been experiencing a hallucination – an illusion brought on by his madness and pain.

And then…. it happened. Suddenly, his brain was filled with a mass of information and understanding, strewn across countless beings, places, times, and experiences. Thoughts became whole, memories returned, and his mind became clear. It had all come back – everything! The people he had met, the battles he had fought – his whole life was now fresh in his memory. Yes, he know recalled every single last event in his 197 years of existence, including the last moments before he had succumbed to the Cleansing Waters and had given up life as he knew it.

He clenched his fists. Now, he remembered why had died. He had been fighting a being called Vieta, who had opposed him and everything he had stood for. For almost all his life, he had wanted to instate a new rule across the land known as Mirazis – a rule that relied on the law of might, and nothing else. He had fought to destroy the beings who had exiled him to a desert wasteland, and had fought alongside beings both like him and far greater than him. He had had a reason to destroy the lives of others – whereas Eeska had none.

But that would all change now, for he now had more than just a motive. Now, combined with the Rage that permeated his existence, he would be unstoppable! The Zatoran, the Toa, Mynor – they would all fall to the might of his anger, and with that would fall what little order remained in Mirazis. Yes, nothing would defeat him – nothing would stop the power of Eenaka, the power of…. Pure Evil?

No, that did not make sense! Pure Evil was evil with no purpose – evil for the sake of evil! With his memory restored, and his motivation reinstated, how could he still posses it or any of the power that it gave? He was still hulking and filled with anger, still covered in spikes and horns. He was still Eeska – but how?

"Why am I still like this?" he exclaimed. "Have I not forfeited your power, Eenaka? Should I not be Ska again instead of Eeska, or should I not just be dead? What is the meaning of this?"

As if obeying his not-so-silent plea, the energies of Pure Evil began to swirl around him extending tendrils of power into his mind. His eyes began to glow blue instead of their usual red, as realization came to his mind.

Now, it was all clear to him. Now, he realized that for hundreds of years, he had been living a lie. Until the day he rose out of the Cleansing Waters, he had always believed that he was justified in his motives. As Ska, he had pledged that he was doing Mirazis a favor, ensuring that only those who deserved to live would survive. But, although he had not realized it until now, deep inside his heart he had concealed his true motives.

No, his desire for anarchy and chaos had not stemmed from a belief in the survival of the strong, and the perishing of the weak. For, if that had truly come to pass, only the Yahzuhk would remain standing. He now saw through his former leader's deception – how they had shrewdly persuaded him and his fellow Exiled Ones to believe that they would rule together over the ruins of Vorza. It was all a lie – all a clever but faulty appeal to the Exiled One's thirst for revenge and power. They would have died just like the Zatoran, as unknowing slaves to cruel, merciless tyrants.

And deep inside, he had realized that – realized that his outward motives were not truly motives at all. They would have earned him nothing, nor would they have given any future beings something to live for. No, his true reason for his mad crusade had been as far simpler, and totally purposeless. He had fought, killed, and destroyed for no other reason than because it felt good to his twisted heart. Because he could.

"And so, I will continue to fight!" Eeska shouted. "I will continue to harass the Zatoran with the power of Eenaka. I will fight until everything they hold dear to their hearts is destroyed! And I will laugh as I do it, thriving on their weeping and pain! They shall all die, and I shall live on - because I can!"

Yes, his life now was as it always had been – thriving on momentary pleasures and temporary satisfaction. He was still without purpose, without real motive, and without any ultimate goal. He was evil incarnate – hatred taking on a physical form. For hate that was all he had ever lived for, and it was all he would ever feel until the day he finally met his end.