Disclaimer: Bionicle belongs to Lego.
A/N: some part of the lyrics fill up things that would've been too long to describe in words. If like me, you tend to skip lyrics when reading songfics, I recommend you to pay attention this time. Also, the lyrics translations might be wrong or inadequate, because I did them myself.
Asleep beneath a wheat field
Sunset. The Matoran stopped working and put away their tools, carefully laying them away in their cells and covering them with warm blankets to keep them repaired from the cold. Nobody worked anymore, they were all heading towards the temple at the center of the island, where for ten suns by now, a great fire was lit every night, and where the Matoran could get news of the Toa, who had left them ten suns ago.
Each night, the Matoran reached the meeting place, fighting for a place near the crackling warmth of the flames, while those who came later huddled around single lightstones, trying to shield themselves from the biting frost.
Their island, once a paradise of warmth and jungles, was now a frozen wasteland, where little or nothing grew and where you were to be thankful if you survived the day. A place where storms could break in from one moment to the next, surprising any Matoran foolish enough to doodle on their way home.
That night, however, despite the fact that the air was so cold that the Matoran's hands were frozen even though they were holding heatstones, the sky was clear, and the stars were blinking brightly in the pitch black sky, and many Matoran felt warmth and hope grow inside them.
Weeks ago, the Turaga had found legens of a new island, that was said to be the paradise that had once been theirs. Yet that island was already inhabitated, and their first attempts to contact the Turaga of that island had failed, as had the laster requests to settle on that island. So, in a united decision, the Turaga gad decided to send the Toa to conquer part of the land.
"But as you do so, remember never to harm a Matoran," the Turaga had said. Then, the Toa had left.
Finally, the Turaga reached the meeting place, walking solemnly to the raised platform they were going to talk from. The Matoran studied their faces, trying to find out whether it was good or bad news they brought, or whether once again they didn't know anything new. But the Turaga's faces were frozen and unreadable as they walked up the wooden steps to reach the platform. They waited for the Matoran to turn their attention on them, then the Turaga of Fire spoke.
"Gathered friends," he said tiredly. "You are here to hear the tales of our heroes' latest deed." He paused. "Unfortunately, it's not good news I bring you."
Murmurs rose between the Matoran at those words. The old Turaga waited for the Matoran to quiet down, then he continued. "Then suns ago, our six, mighty guardians, the Toa, left to conquer new lands for us to live in. Today, we received news that they finally reached them. However, their mission was not a success."
The Turaga paused. "My friends, I'm afraid to tell you that the Toa of Air has fallen."
Dormi sepolto in un campo di grano (You sleep buried in a wheat field,)
non è una rosa non è un tulipano (it isn't a rose it isn't a tulip)
che ti fan veglia all'ombra dei fossi (that guard you from the channels sides)
ma sono mille papaveri rossi. (but a thousand red poppy flowers)
The Toa od air flew through the frozen wasteland, the biting cold air sinding daggers across his face. But he didn't care, all he had eyes and mind for were the Le-Matoran. Once happy, carefree people, they were now forced to search through the snow for food the whole day, or climb tree skeletons to retrieve bits of healing bark, while others worked in mines to help digging out precious heatstones or firerocks.
He shook his head. Only the Ko-Matoran were able to get something good out of the situation, and their knowledge on how to build cold-proof houses and similar things had been indispensable for the survival of the other Matoran.
There was a sudden scream as a branch a Matoran had been climbing on broke under the combined weight of snow and Matoran. The little guy fell on the steep bank of a river, sliding gown the frozen surfce into the icy cold, rushing water.
There were screams as his head broke through the surface again. Matoran telling him to fight, to swim for it, to hold on, that he could make it. Nobody jumped in to help him, as they knew that even if they did manage to get him, the current would have gotten hold of them too, and they would've both died. There was no sense in it.
The Matoran's head disappeared beneat the surface, and didn't come back up again. The others shouted a bit longer, then a deadly silence filled the air. The Matoran was dead.
The green Toa gritted his teeth and looked away, fighting back the rising feeling that it was partly his fault and that he should've done something. Although there was nothing to do.
He swerved west towards the gathering point of the Toa, where they were supposed to meet that morning.
When he crossed the river again, he saw a little green body, dragged lifelessly downstream by the rushing current.
"Lungo le sponde del mio torrente ("Along the banks of my river)
voglio che scendano i lucci argentati (I want the silver pikes to swim)
non più i cadaveri dei soldati (not the bodies of the soldiers)
portati in braccio dalla corrente" (carried in the arms of the current")
"Today I saw another Matoran slide in the river," the green Toa said. "I've had enough."
The Toa of Stone nedded sadly. "I too, have seen too many Matoran overwhelmed by an avalanche or a sudden storm. We have to put an end to this!"
The Toa of fire nodded. "And we will. The Turaga have taken a decision. We are to conquer a small part of that island we discovered weeks ago."
Mormurs rose through the Toa, and many shook their heads in dissence.
"No," the water Toa said. "It's their land after all. This would just be... wrong."
"It's only a small part, they won't miss it."
"Even if we do make it... we'll be constantly after attack! Is it really worth it?"
"Our people will be worth it. They have the right to live as much as everyone ele!"
"But does that give us the right to drop in someone else's islandhome andarder-tell them what to do?" the Toa of Air asked.
"It's the Turaga's decision," the fire Toa said with a shrug. "And we have to follow it whether we like it or not."
Così dicevi ed era d'inverno (So you said and it was winter)
e come gli altri verso l'inferno (and like the others towards hell)
te ne vai triste come chi deve (you go sad like one who has to)
il vento ti sputa in faccia la neve (the wind spits the snow in your face)
The wind stormed around him, blowing handfuls of snow in his face that stung like thousands of needles, freezing his face into a distorted grimace that reflected perfectly how he felt. He, the Toa of Air, normally hopping joyfully in front of the other Toa at the prospect of a new mission, was now trailing sadly behind them as they crossed the snow-covered beach to reach the boats that would carry them to this new island.
As they reached them, a sudden gust of wind blew against them, spraying them with snow and making them all stagger back several feet in the knee-deep snow. The Toa of Air held his arms up to protect his face against the whipping wind, but didn't try to make it turn direction or let it fade. The elements that consumed their island were simply too wild to be controlled. Instead, he stepped inn the boat and huddled at the bottomm of it, staring determinedly in front of himself, not daring to see anyone in the eye.
When all the Toa were inside the boat, the Turaga turned to the Matoran and held some sort of talk where the words "hope" and "future" came up several times, though most of it simply washed over the Toa. Then, the boat was pushed off shore and onto the ragin sea, the wind storming around them as if trying to push them back to shore.
Fermati Piero, fermati adesso (Stop Piero, stop now)
lascia che il vento ti passi un po' addosso (let the wind blow over you)
dei morti in battaglia ti porti la voce (of the dead in battle you carry the voice)
che diede la vita ebbe in cambio una croce (who gave their life got in change a cross)
As the ship sailed out onto the freezing sea, the green Toa gave the Matoran one last, grim glance, thinking of all the people who expected his to do great things, to give them a better life, while they stayed here, struggling to survive. He buried his head in his hands, knowing that if he followed his heart, he would let all his people down, but that if he did what he was supposed to, he would act like one of Makuta's followers, claiming something that was not his and using sheer force to get it.
He shook his head silently, wishing that his island had never fallen to such desolation, that the stars had been read wrongly, and that the new island had never been found. Then maybe, he wouldn't be here, huddled inside this wet boat, with the freezing wind blowing around him and the water splashing on him, while the wo parts of his mind clashed against each other in a constant, neverending battle, that he knew wouldn't be over even after he had done what he had to do.
So he sat, hunched and shivering, fighting against his feelings while the wind howled around his ears, shouting at him to stop and turn back, that he was still in time to change his mind, that he didn't have to do it...
He buried his head deeper into his hands and cut off that voice too.
Ma tu non lo udisti ed il tempo passava (But you didn't hear it and time passed)
con le stagioni a passo di 'java' (with seasons at 'java's' pace)
ed arrivasti a varcar la frontiera (and you came to the frontier)
in un bel giorno di primavera (in a nice day of spring)
The boat hit shore ten days later, landing on a warm, sandy beach of golden sand. The Toa jumped off their boats, taking a minute to enjoy the sun and the warmth they had so long missed on their frozen homeland. A green, humid forest lay before them, extending in every direction.
In another time, he would've gladly jumped through those treetops just for the sake of it, but the thought of the forelaying mission held him back, like and invisible weight pinning him to the ground.
He wouldn't have had the time to do it either, because a minute later, their leader gave them the sign to split, and each Toa headed in a different direction. While the others headed along the beach o r towards the smoking volcano that could be seen in the distance, he turned around and headed towards a high, snow-covered peak that rose on the other side of the jungle.
E mentre marciavi con l'anima in spalle (And as you walked with your souls on your shoulders)
vedesti un uomo in fondo alla valle (you saw a man at the end of the valley)
che aveva il tuo stesso identico umore (who was of your exact same mood)
ma la divisa di un'altro colore (but had the uniform of another color)
When the jungle ended, he found himself facing a green, warm meadow, that first went down in a gentle slope, and then slowly went upwards to reach a rocky area that was the foot of the mountain. Few bushes littered the area, and a single tree rose between the jungle and the mountain. He walked on, not feeling any emotion as he crossed the field, his head hanging, an empty look in his eyes.
He had been staring at the ground the whole time, so he only saw the other Toa when he was already just a few feet behind him. He jumped quietly in surprise, and his hands shot to his weapon, aiming it silently at the unaware Toa.
Sparagli Piero, sparagli ora (shoot him Piero, shoot him now)
e dopo un colpo sparagli ancora (and after a shot, shoot him again)
fino a che tu non lo vedrai esangue (until you won't see him bloodless)
cadere in terra a coprire il suo sangue (falling to the ground to cover his blood)
He knew what he had to do. The Toa of Ice in front of him had his back turned on him, gazing absentmindedly at the mountain before him. He had no idea that someone was standing behind him, weapon raised, ready to fire, and from that distance, he was sure to achieve a fatal blow.
Yet he hesitated. His body refused to respond to the orders his mind was giving. He shook his head and and braced himself for the attack. Once again, he raised his weapon and readied to strike the fatal blow.
"E se gli sparo in fronte o nel cuore, ("And if I shoot him in the head or his heart)
soltanto il tempo avrà per morire (he'll only have the time to die)
ma il tempo a me resterà per vedere (but the time will remain for me to see)
vedere gli occhi di un uomo che muore" (see the eyes of a dying man)
Asingle image flashed through his eyes: a little green body, dragged downstream by the river's inexorabile current.
He moaned inside himself, he had always had a problem with death. His hands started to quiver, and in that moment, he knew he wouldn't be able to do it. He could not kill the Toa who was sitting quietly in front of him. A Toa that surely had a village to protect, somewhere in the mountains. And in this village, there were certainly Matoran and a Turaga waiting for him. He imagined how it must be, to work all day, sure that your guardian would return by the evening. And then, late at night, suddenly realize that he wasn't coming. Uneasiness would grow in the village, as the Matoran tried to convince themselves that their Toa was simply off battling some new threat, and would return the next day. But the Toa of Ice wasn't going to return, and the Matoran would gradually los hope. Until, one day...
He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, his hands shaking madly on his tool, once again trapped between his duty and his feelings.
And then, another thought shot through his mind. Maybe he didn't have to do it at all! Maybe he could just ignore everything and try to talk with the Toa. There had to be a reason why they had denied them a piece of land. Perhaps he could sort it out, and everything else would be forgotten.
The thought gave him new strength, and he even managed a smile. He opened his eyes and looked at the Toa, lowering his weapon slightly. His hands stopped shaking, and he suddenly felt much calmer. He made towards the Toa, and as he did so, the slightest movement brought his foot against a rock, hitting it with a clang. Wha thadn't happened in all that time happened now, and the Toa of Ice turned around.
E mentre gli usi questa premura (And while you save him this care)
quello si volta ti vede e ha paura (he turns around, sees you, and is afraid)
ed imbracciata l'artiglieria (and embraced the artillery)
non gli risparmia la cortesia (he doesn't return the courtesy)
It took him a moment to realize that, although he had lowered his gun, he was still holding it high enough to look as if he was aiming at the Toa in front of him. It took his opposer much less. He had turned around to say something, probably expecting one of his teammates behind him, but the words had stuck in his throat when he had spotted the weapon. For a secon, he was like frozen as he put together all pieces of the puzzle. The next, he was on his feet, and the green Toa was a frozen clump of ice, silently falling backwards.
Cadesti a terra senza un lamento (You fell to the ground without a sound)
e ti accorgesti in un solo momento (and you realized in a single moment)
che il tempo non ti sarebbe bastato (that your time wouldn't have been enough)
per chieder perdono di ogni peccato (to ask fo mercy for every sin)
He seemed to take hours to fall.
The block of ice slowly tilted backwards, quivering a second as if suspended by an invisible thread before continuing its infinitely slow fall to the ground. All the time, the green Toa's eyes were frozen on a spot in front of him, never moving, never blinking, never focusing. Simply staring.
Cadesti a terra senza un lamento (You fell to the ground without a sound)
e ti accorgesti in un solo momento (and you realized in a single moment)
che la tua vita finiva quel giorno (that your life finished that day)
e non ci sarebbe stato ritorno (and there wouldn't be return)
At first, all he had been able to see was the Toa of ice, then, as he fell, that figure slid out of sight, replaced by the deep blue sky, so bright that it hurt his eyes through the thick sheet of ice covering him. Instantly, he knew it would be the last thing he would see, along with the cold, emotionless stare of the Toa of Ice, and at the same time, he realized that he would never get a chance to fly through that blue, feeling the sun on his face instead of the piercing snow. Nor would he see his brothers and sister again.
Their faces flashed bfore his eyes. He hadn't been very nice or talked to them much during the journey, and now, he wasn't ever going to speak to them again. His last thought was for them. Then, he hit the ground.
"All'età mia crepare di maggio ("At my age to die in may)
ci vuole tanto, troppo coraggio (needs a lot, too much courage)
in età bella dritto all'inferno (at nice age stright to hell)
avrei preferito andarci d'inverno" (I'd preferred to go in winter")
The Toa of Ice put his sword away and looked down at the frozen Toa. He was surprised to see how young he was. There was a look of innocence on his face that showed that this couldn#t have been more than his third or fourth battle. He couldn't believe that he could be behind the threatening letters they had received, but then again, appearances were often misleading.
He suddenly wondered how much time this strange Toa had been standing behind him, his weapon raised, aiming right at his back. The though made a chill run down his spine. He would've never realized that he was standing there if the Toa hadn't moved, making that sound. He could've killed him any time, yet he had hesitated, as if something held him back.
That or he had specific orders, the ice Toa thought, remembering the letters. The next time hi might not be so lucky, and this was only one piece on the chessboard. The other Toa accompaining him might be more ruthless. He had to warn his brothers.
Without looking at the Toa again, he left.
E mentre il grano ti stava a sentire, (and as the grain listened to you)
nelle tue mani stringevi il fucile (in your hands you gripped your gun)
nella tua bocca stringevi parole (in your mouth you gripped words)
troppo gelate per sciogliersi al sole (too frozen to melt in the sun)
And as the icy Toa left, the green Toa remained where he was, a frozen block in the field, his eyes wide and fearfilled, staring at the sky above him, his lips open in a soundless plea.
A bird flew over him.
XXXXX
"The other Toa found him the next day, when the ice had already melted away," the Turaga said. "He was still holding his gun.
"They were able to find out how he died. Hypothermia... he was frozen. The other Toa were able to find out who his agressor was, and his name," he shook his head, then he raised it and proclaimed. "We shall never forget our fallen brother. Dahil, Toa of Air, who was killed in battle by the Kopaka Nuva from Mata Nui..."
Dormi sepolto in un campo di grano (You sleep buried in a wheat field,)
non è una rosa non è un tulipano (it isn't a rose it isn't a tulip)
che ti fan veglia all'ombra dei fossi (that guard you from the channels sides)
ma sono mille papaveri rossi. (but a thousand red poppy flowers)
Good for who and bad for who? It's not that easy, you know... ? From 'Katzenwinter' by Wolfgang Hohlbein.
Every land does its bg, everyone makes mistakes. We might never find out why the Toa Nuva rejected the request, and at the same time, the Nuva might never understand why they got those letters and were attacked. This story can go out in many different ways. If you want to know one, or know what was in those letters, you should PM me, and I'll give you something.
Feline Freak