The chill wind of Ko-Wahi seemed even more spiteful than usual as Matoro and his small entourage of hunters hurried down the mountain path, a covered sled being pushed along in the middle of the group and concealing their precious cargo from Mt. Ihu's surly breaths. It had been only a minute since Jaller and Navak were found that Nuju foresaw an attack on Ko-Koro, and in light of the circumstances the only safe choice they could make was an evacuation. Matoro was in the first group to leave, sent with the 'emergency team' to keep an eye on the two injured matoran they were charged with protecting. Nobody really questioned why Nuju sent his translator with them; they knew he was the turaga's son and just how precious he was because of it. Nuju had been incredibly protective of him for as long as anyone could remember, and the fact that he was a widower – though nobody could recall the turaga's wife – only made it stronger. It simply made sense that he would try to protect his one and only child.
But Matoro knew there was more to it than that. He bore a secret that, as far as he knew, only his father was aware of, and one he had thus far been very careful to hide. He didn't know how or why, but somehow the eighteen year old had inherited a small measure of his mother's unusual gift of healing, and while it was nowhere near potent enough to mend the sort of injuries Kaidihka could, it was still enough that Nuju had made it incredibly clear that keeping this power hidden was wise. Matoran weren't supposed to have powers, especially such as his, and while the rare one or two could tap into a small fraction of their kanohi's abilities it was never consequential enough to be vastly note-worthy. The most blatant instance of it that he'd seen was Kongu, who subconsciously tapped into his Miru just enough that he could jump higher and fall slower than anyone around him, the latter point being so subtle that it had almost been missed entirely. A similar state of minor power, but far from equal measures. Even without Nuju's paranoia over whether or not it would be safe for anyone to know, Matoro felt far from inclined to share, if only so nobody felt cheated or one-up'd unintentionally.
A quiet groan from the sled captured his attention and drew him back to focus, bright blue eyes straying to look inside and see who made the sound. Jaller had woken up, his rose-pink eyes barely even half-open as he tried to make sense of where he was. "D-Dad…?"
Matoro grimaced at the question. He'd been told what'd happened at the forge and it had brought about no small measure of concern. He could remember clearly how the Shadow Toa had so fiercely protected him and his mother. He could recall overhearing the discussion of his supposed death and how he'd felt as though he'd lost an uncle he had been close to through the entire time he'd known him. And, more clearly, he could remember hearing Kopaka and Nuju discussing his sudden and destructive return as well as what it could mean for the island. Nuju hadn't told Kopaka that he'd been suspicious of Mihkoro's 'death' for years and how he wondered already just how many 'accidents' on Mata Nui had been deliberate. One more secret that Matoro had to keep, though at least now it was inconsequential. He could let that one go and put it from his mind. Really, it was a wonder to him that he hadn't let anything slip yet.
"He's not here, Jaller." Matoro said quietly, glancing at his escort to see if anyone was watching before carefully plucking one of his gloves off and resting a faintly glowing hand on the Ta-Matoran's shoulder. Surely he could get away with helping a little, right? There was no harm in that, and Jaller needed it, especially when he was the one carrying the Avohkii around. "We're trying to get you and Navak out of Ko-Koro and away from danger."
The seventeen year old on the sled shivered a little as some of his burns diminished, a little more clarity flickering through his eyes. "Where is Takua…?" He asked, coughing as he tried to focus on Matoro's face. "Is he okay?"
The translator wasn't really sure how to answer that. He knew about the trap door as well as Kopaka setting out to find the wayward Chronicler, but he had no actual and solid fact to offer in his reply. "I'm sure he's fine." He replied after a small pause. "Toa Kopaka left to find him immediately after he brought you to the healers. He might even be on his way back with him by now." He glanced at the other Ko-Matoran again. So far nobody seemed to notice what he was doing, nor did they seem to see that Jaller's burns were fading. So far so good.
"Bringing Takua back to Ko-Koro while it's in danger?" Jaller pointed out, grimacing as his eyes opened a bit more. "That doesn't sound too promising…"
"… Oh." Matoro hadn't thought of that possibility. Kopaka really wouldn't have any idea what was going on until he came back in the thick of it. "If anyone can handle that sort of thing, it will be Kopaka. He's always really careful, especially after something questionable happens. They'll be fine."
"You forgot how much of a trouble-magnet Takua is didn't you? Even if-"
"Shh." Matoro interrupted with a faint huff. "Less pessimism, more resting. You'll need your strength for when you're back with Takua and trying to find the Seventh Toa."
Jaller shook his head a little. "We already did find him, Matoro. Found him before we even started looking. The Seventh Toa is-"
"Matoro look out!"
The hunter's should came fast enough for the eighteen year old to dodge away from the sled, scrambling to put his glove back on and eyes wide as an energy bolt crashed into the ground right where he had been moments before. Standing on a ledge several feet above, the leering gaze of a rahkshi glowered down at them, hissing in annoyance due to its target escaping. Matoro shuddered as he moved to try and push the sled faster. "Bring it down! We can't do anything with it up there!" Even as Matoro yelled his instruction several of his companions were loading and aiming slingshots, not at the rahkshi but at the shelf of rock it stood on. It had been an interesting discovery that heatstones – a strange mineral that naturally produced geothermal energy – were explosive when the right level of impact or pressure was applied, and ever since then they were carried by hunters and guides alike, often carefully cracked or chipped to be used for all manner of purposes, from battle to path clearing to the occasional jump-scare prank. Most often, however, they were used for a very specific purpose, most commonly utilized by Onu-Matoran miners.
Demolition.
Even as the rahkshi moved to take aim again, the unleashed heatstones were whistling through the air and violently exploding against the underside of the creature's perch, shaking and cracking the stone deeply enough that the weight of its occupant served to sheer it from the cliff face and send it plummeting, careening down the side of the mountain and vanishing from sight down a precipice. One of the hunters let out a low whistle as he leaned over the edge to look. "Think it'll come back from that?"
"I don't want to stick around long enough to find out." Another remarked grimly, moving to help Matoro with the sled. "Come on, the sooner we're away from here the better; the path is too narrow for us to defend ourselves safely. If that thing had been smarter about where it stood we wouldn't have made it out so lucky."
Progress was relatively smooth after that, though even as they moved Matoro couldn't help but wonder about the attack. Had he been targeted on a whim, or had the rahkshi somehow seen him healing Jaller? Had he unintentionally revealed his most carefully kept secret to the Makuta during a bout of poorly-planned fussing? If that truly was the case, then someone would have to find the rahkshi and make sure it was dead; Matoro was far from inclined toward being next on the hit-list. But for now that would have to wait, regardless of whether or not he wanted it to. Navak and Jaller needed him and he needed to get them to safety. If he wasn't already in danger for doing this then he never would be. Destiny would simply have to take its course and that was that. Pushing the concern from his mind, the Ko-Matoran took a quick look at their surroundings. They were in the lower drifts now, a large area of generally flat terrain that very frequently was a migration zone for all manner of rahi, both predatory and prey. It was supposed to be a quiet season at present, but such notions could never fully be trusted; there were always flukes, and fluke encounters with any sort of animal could be dangerous. Luckily, nothing seemed to be around. A small relief, but not one that Matoro fully trusted; just because it couldn't be seen didn't mean something wasn't there.
"Matoro?"
Jaller's voice drew the translator from his thoughts, crystal blue eyes roaming back to his more coherent charge. "Yes?"
The Ta-Matoran offered a small grimace, as though he knew of an oncoming and otherwise unseen danger. "That thing that attacked earlier… it's going to come back."
"You don't know that."
"Either it will, or others like it will." Jaller insisted. "Ko-Koro was never their actual target, you know that as well as I do. I'm putting you all in danger; if I stay in this group you're all going to get hurt and I can't let that happen."
The Ko-Matoran frowned and shook his head. "I promised Dad I'd keep you and Navak safe, Jaller; I'm not afraid of the risks. Nobody in this group is. Once we're further down and reach one of the lower storm bunkers-"
"We won't have enough time and you can't deny it." The young guard cut in, shaking his head stubbornly. "The rahkshi can move far faster than we can, even in perfect conditions. The sooner I split off from you all, the safer you will be; I don't want anyone to die because they were keeping me company."
Matoro sighed quietly in frustration. "Acting like your dad won't save anyone." He pointed out. "If the Makuta kills you and takes the Avohkii, we're all as good as dead and you splintering off would be the cause." The silence that followed was painfully tense. Matoro had struck a nerve and he knew it well, but he refused to let Jaller put everyone in jeopardy without a severely good reason, especially when he wasn't fully healed. If there was an argument that could counter the point he made, it certainly wouldn't be easy to find.
"I am the only insurance the Makuta can lean on to keep my dad under control."
Well… so much for that. There was even physical evidence to back that claim, and said evidence was lying unconscious in the sled beside Jaller. Matoro twittered a quiet bird sound under his breath, one he'd heard Nuju utter at Kopaka on occasion when the Toa was being particularly ornery. He'd never been told exactly what it meant, but he had a feeling it wasn't very polite. "And how are you going to get down the mountain safely, by yourself, without having the strength to fight anything off?" Maybe now he had the stubborn Ta-Matoran cornered…
"Uh… Ussal inbound?"
Matoro didn't even need to see the rahi in question to know who it was. Ussals didn't particularly like being in cold climates, and while they could handle the temperature well enough it still wasn't an environment they naturally gravitated to. No, there was really only one crab on all of Mata Nui that this could be.
"Pewku."
Really, it seemed like he couldn't win. At every single turn, reason and logic were being waived by stupidity and sheer dumb luck. Every valid and intelligent argument had been utterly abolished, and now not even common sense was a viable shield against the barrage of Ta-Matoran nonsense that was now sitting upright in the sled. Pointedly looking away so he didn't have to see Jaller's grinning face, Matoro sighed in blatant defeat. Either Destiny was at work, or Mata Nui was deliberately attempting to test his patience. "Stop giving me that look."
Jaller only grinned more. "Any other arguments?"
"… Yes. Just one."
"Oh? And what's that?"
"If you get yourself killed out there on your own because you were determined to be foolish, I will find a way to bring you back just so I can kill you myself."
The Ta-Matoran laughed. "Good thing I'm good at surviving."
"Too bad you always put yourself into situations where you need it."
