Chapter 3
The sands on the beach slowly rolled over each other as the surf washed forward, grabbing grains and leaving foam behind. The red sun clashed in the water as the group of Matoran trudged onward along the coast, watching warily for anything out of the ordinary. Sori walked near the back; he wanted to be as far away from Niwan as possible. After the ferocity Niwan illustrated in front of him, Sori almost preferred to fight a Bohrok than face him again.
That, of course, changed when the group stopped, whispering nervously among themselves. A soldier approached to Sori with an uneasy look.
"You're wanted up there, sir…"
The general nodded with a weak smile. 'This is it,' he thought as he gripped his sword's hilt, 'I'm going to prove myself that I do deserve this rank.' He unsheathed his weapon as he ran up to the front of the crowd and saw –
Niwan, The Council, and some militia crowded in a circle giving him rather odd looks.
Embarrassed, Sori hastily out his sword away to attempt to show he had control of the situation. Coughing, he pointed to the wedge of bark embedded in the ground.
"So what's that thing?"
Niwan knelt in the sand to examine the object.
"It looks like a grave. Beisbeis must have done this; we need to get to BZ-Koro before he comes. Let's move."
Sori bent down to look at the apparent grave head. His finger brushed the smooth wood and found knife marks shaped into Matoran letters.
"Unknown Matoran. May he be the last one that dies in this war. –Beisbeis."
A Matoran passed by the gravesite, and whispered sarcastically into Sori's ear, "I'm sure he meant every word – so he could have more hosts to give to the Bahrag. I hope I get my hands on him before Niwan does – I'd show him what a true Matoran would stand for. The coward." The Matoran spit onto the ground, disgusted, as the group passed by.
Sori continued to kneel in the sand, unsure of who was right anymore. The procession continued along, cursing Beisbeis and the cause they believed he stood for.
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At the moment, however, Beisbeis had no idea what his fellow Matoran had called him. He could not even think at all.
As his eyes began to open, the red he was seeing began to morph into shapes, running here and there. Shouts and cries became more prominent, and soon sound and vision encircled him once more, though still hindered. Something fell onto him; the impact shocked his senses into awakening, and he regained conscience to become aware of glassy Matoran eyes staring back into him.
With a cry he shoved the corpse off of him and stood with his mace in his hand to find a scene of chaos. Pockets of Matoran fought against Gahlok that were pushing the soldiers away from the outpost and to the tide. Také appeared out of what seemed to be nowhere, grabbed Beisbeis' arm, and jerked him out of his state of shock.
"C'mon, sir, we need to go!" He shouted. Beisbeis bellowed as they pushed their way into the battle.
"Retreat! Hurry, to the boats!"
There was a second of hesitation on the Matorans' part; it soon followed with everyone abandoning their fights and falling behind Beisbeis.
"Go, go, go!" The captain shouted as the soldiers clambered onto the vessels, keeping any near enemies at bay. Soon, the boats kicked off from the gravel, the forces still watching the Gahlok remain stationary on the beach. Beisbeis sighed and leaned on the boat, breathing heavily.
"What happened?" He tried to whisper. Také glanced over at him.
"For some reason," he whispered, although Beisbeis knew what he was referring to, "You fell off the stairs. The Bohrok heard the noise, and they got to the doors before we could put a foot in." Beisbeis looked blankly at the bottom of the ship, unable to say anything about his shame.
"Where should we go now, sir?" The leader looked up at his devoted friend. He sighed and shook his head while pointing back to the outpost.
"We need to continue on. The Bohrok won't let us pass now," He said. "Hopefully they won't come after us because of the confusion back there until–"
Suddenly, water exploded all around them as Gahlok leapt from the waves and grabbed screaming Matoran to bring back down to the depths. Trying to calm his men, Beisbeis shouted for a volley into the water. A scattered twenty arrows shot into the lake; blood drew to the surface as a result.
"Paddle, paddle!" Beisbeis shouted as the two canoes rowed away from the outpost. Behind them, Gahlok were sprouting from the surface of the water and heading towards the Matoran. Having life as a motivation spurred the rowers further; as soon as they reached the shore, however, the Bohrok ended their pursuit and turned back to where they came. Beisbeis hesitantly stepped out of the vessel, mace ready for an ambush. There was none.
The rest of the Matoran followed their captain's actions. Také looked back to Lake Lamén with a puzzling look.
"I wonder why they let us go like that," he whispered, "They could have trapped us easily back there…"
"Maybe they're headed back to BZ-Koro," one suggested. "What do you think, Beisbeis?…Beisbeis?"
Také levitated above the ground to search for his captain as everyone looked on the ground and spotted a shape sitting on a rotted log in a clearing around a hundred bio from where they were.
"Wait here," he told the men, "I'll be right back." Také ascended into the air and came to Beisbeis, touching the ground lightly as he walked behind him. His captain's mask was on the ground.
"I blew it," Beisbeis whispered. Také stepped closer.
"I don't understand, sir."
"I lost control. They saw me there. That's how they knew were coming. I let you and everyone down." He eyes flashed a dark red for an instant. He dropped and gasped as he fought back tears and the taint. Také sat next to his leader, slightly troubled by what he had just seen.
'The men are waiting for you, sir."
Beisbeis looked up at the men, still warily watching their surroundings. He sighed, letting his shoulders droop for a few seconds. He could not abandon those he was supposed to lead, however. He hesitantly pulled himself off the timber, covered his face once more with his mask, and slowly made his way back to his group.
"Where are we going, Beisbeis?" One of the Matoran asked as soon as the leader came into view. The captain looked at the men, frowning and sighing.
"Are you still willing to be lead by me?" He whispered quietly, "After the mess I put you into?"
Silence overcame the group for a few minutes. Beisbeis watched each one of them staring at him, but he avoided their eyes. He did not want them seeing the kinds of temptations pulling at him. After a few minutes, quiet was still everywhere within the meadow. The Matoran shifted uncomfortably, not knowing what to say or do.
Finally, someone made his or her way past everyone else to Beisbeis. He held his breath.
It was Khora. The Matoran knelt down, took Beisbeis' hand, and gripped it firmly.
"As long as your intentions are for Hapori Tohu, I will follow you."
A few more seconds passed as Beisbeis began to have tears in his eyes. He felt a rush of gratitude towards the soldier as he gripped Khora in an embrace. He looked up at the rest of his patrol.
"Are the rest of you in agreement?"
All of the infantry nodded, some less reluctantly than others. Beisbeis looked at each one individually; each one would voice their support. When he came to Také, he watched his second agree, although the captain noticed he seemed to so with an air of regret in his eyes. Beisbeis knew why he was somber; but now that would have to be later, when they were alone. He addressed his company once more.
"Thank you, men. This means a lot to me." The captain glanced back at the boats lying on the shore side. "I think we'll let the boats out; there's not much chance we will be returning that way right now. At least the Gahlok will not destroy them."
A few Matoran hesitantly complied with Beisbeis' request; it was evident they were not completely willing to give up their only chance of returning to the east side of The Island. Beisbeis realized he felt the same way as the crafts drifted away to follow the current of the river south. Regardless, they could not change their course now.
An explosion brought the Matoran out of their thoughts. They spun around to find Mount Rûn mountainside combusting. Beisbeis wondered what was happening inside the pinnacle - what secrets lay hidden beneath the layer of soil and rock. Whatever it was, though, he didn't have time for it now. They had to reach the Suva before Bohrok came.
"Come on, men," he said, "Let's be on our way." One by one, the Matoran filed into a line and followed their captain, leaving behind the now-forlorn dell.
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The sun was rising into the sky as the Matoran caravan trudged their way through the underbrush along the edge of the Pöuri forest. Sori was now right behind Niwan; curiosity, along with his lessening lack of respect for his leader prompted him to be close so he could attempt to figure out what was happening. The Head Matoran suddenly stopped, causing Sori to collide with his head.
"– Oh – sorry, sir –" Sori stammered; Niwan pushed him out of the way to address the crowd.
"We're here, people!"
The people shoved Sori further out of their way to reach their destination once more. The General made his own way through the throng to see where everyone was going. He stared at the BZ-Koro gates – or what remained of them – facing him and the rest.
A Matoran stepped onto the bulwark to see what was happening outside; Niwan waved his arms back and forth to attract his attention.
"We're back!"
The individual squinted from the sun to see who had spoken to him. When he finally discerned the speaker from the multitude, he hastily stumbled down the stairs, broadcasting to everyone inside.
"Someone, quickly! Get Lieutenant Karon! The rest have returned!"
A low, hushed murmuring fell over the gathering congregation as the remainder of the civilians of BZ-Koro reentered their home once more. At least, what remained of their home. Sori surveyed the pieces of wreckage scattered everywhere, and the massive pit that Lower Level that appeared to head downstairs to the Lower Level. There was still plenty of work to be done, but they had certainly started to repair most of what had been damaged. The General soon focused his attention on the cluster of Matoran heading their way.
"It is well to see you safe and among, Head Niwan," Karon said respectfully with profoundly bowing, "What do you n– "
"Is Beisbeis here?" Niwan cut Karon's respectful words short. The lieutenant fumbled slightly, then slowly rocked his head from side to side.
"Where is he?" Niwan demanded. Karon sighed.
"…He had to leave with a squadron to, uh…"
"Where?" If Niwan's voice was impatient before, there was no mistaking it now.
"…Well, west…"
Niwan stood chewing his tongue, his eyes closed. Sori had no idea what he was thinking, but it was probably something he would not take a fancy to. After a few seconds of quiet, Karon hesitantly tried to gain the Head Matoran's focus.
"…Um…Sir?…"
Niwan began nodding briskly and revealed his eyes once more.
"All right, I'm taking official command of the army now. We're going to take every soldier we can, and capture Beisbeis."
Sori blinked incredulously. He had expected something similar to what Niwan had said, but he hadn't counted on him carrying off BZ-Koro's entire defense. The crowd broke into nervous chatter; even those who despised Beisbeis didn't appear willing to leave themselves defenseless. Sori delicately tapped Niwan on the shoulder from behind.
"Sir, I think you're making a mistake here," he whispered into Niwan's ear, "Beisbeis isn't working for the Bohrok, and– "
He was rewarded with a sharp twist in his arm as he fell to his knees, grimacing from the pain. The Head Matoran lowered to Sori's ear, and whispered quietly:
"Y'know, I think threats never seem to get the job done," he said dangerously, bending Sori's arm once again and causing him to flinch, "It always does some good if you exercise a little authority."
"What's going on, sir?" Karon asked, confused. Niwan glanced sporadically at the crowd gaping at the scene, then pointed at Sori.
"This Matoran has decided not to follow my orders; and he is demoted from his rank as an example to anyone who disobeys. I want you to watch him carefully; he is allied with Beisbeis. I want all our men ready to leave in an hour." The Head Matoran yanked Sori from off of the ground, causing the former General to recoil even more. "And get his filth out of my sight. He will be coming with us when we leave, so we can keep an eye on him."
Sori was seized by two soldiers, his anger rising as he was dragged to the prison. When he was thrown in his cell, the prisoner rubbed his throbbing aches. He finally knew whom he was against.
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Beisbeis stood at the front of his patrol, scanning the plains and the occasional tree struggling to grow out of the soft soil; grass was overtaking those larger than themselves. The captain cold see anything alive nearby, so he rose his hand in the air, opened all of his fingers, and knelt down as he pointed to the ground. A Matoran with a Kakama sped to his side, followed by a Miru from above; a Pakari from the side; a Ruru – that was Khora; two Haus; another Pakari; and a Mahiki materializing out of nowhere.
Beisbeis avoided looking at them; he didn't feel comfortable being with his group right now. Even though everyone had voiced their support for him to some degree back at the lake, their leader did not share their confidence. He still felt a lingering sense of inadequacy from his disastrous wreck. Their voices could not bring back the dead Matoran lying on the shore at the outpost and floating on Lake Lamén.
"Let's move," he said, and they split up again.
'We see you…'
Beisbeis knew who those voices were inside his head. It only spurred him to push forward. His doubt mixed with his fear became what he fed on, until he would reach the Suva. Then he would understand what Hapori Tohu needed him to do.
He did not have to wonder for much longer. Within twenty minutes, the Suva was in sight. Beisbeis knelt and pointed down three times, making each one clear so his patrol would know there were three prongs of movement. After a few seconds, he caught glimpses of Matoran through the scrub. They blended well; only a few snatches of advancement distinguished them from everything else.
The squadron gradually made their way down the valley to the Suva. The Suva itself was in a circular building surrounded by six pillars, each representing an element. As they grew closer, the statues became more intricate, more lifelike; the fire looked as if would burn, the ice as though it would freeze.
The most interesting feature of the place, however, was the revered silence. Beisbeis passed between two of the pillars and into the Suva area. He could barely hear his feet touch the ground. Even his breathing sounded as if he was taking in less air. One by one, he watched as his men followed him to the front of the Suva's doors.
"Wait here," he said, "I'll be going in alone. It shouldn't take too long." Také nodded, and the rest of the group watched as he entered the sacred building.
If the outside was silent, the inside was more so. In the center of the room, a smooth half-dome with another small, elevated center ring inside was surrounded by six tall spires, not unlike the ones found on Mata Nui. Relics were all along the circular wall – tributes to Hapori Tohu from the BZ-Koro villagers.
The room was spotless; every artifact in the room was unsoiled to symbolize purity. Beisbeis looked sheepishly at his dirty attire. Any time one went in here, they needed to cleanse themselves to show they were prepared physically. Unfortunately, they were no fountains in the building, so he could really do nothing. He continued walking.
'…Still…' Beisbeis thought, "…Maybe I should clean myself off before I go in somehow… just so I look halfway-presentable.'
A feeling of urgency swept over him.
"Come to me, Beisbeis…"
He took a step forward. The Suva was pulling him. Clean or dirty, he needed to go there – now. If he waited –
'No! We must complete the mission!"
Beisbeis hesitated for a few seconds more. Both sides were pulling inside of him now. It seemed both were putting up an almost equal fight… but he knew which one he had to choose.
The captain took a deep breath. His hand was raised to his shoulder. The fight inside was becoming more vigorous. His will was being contested. Compared to every battle he had participated in, he had never fought as hard as he had in his life. Every fiber of his being urged him to save his soul, to finish what he had started…
His hand touched the center dome.
The rocky sphere seemed to respond to the Matoran's actions. The stone began to brighten; the light in the room began to drag towards the Suva, until Beisbeis could barely see in front of him. He raised his arms over his eyes to perceive what was happening.
Suddenly what little eyesight he had was lost as the light engulfed Beisbeis. Fear overtook him for a moment; but as soon as he grew apprehensive, a voice dispelled the fear in him.
"Do not worry. You will not come to harm. Just let me take you where you will be safe."
The Suva disappeared in the light, and Beisbeis could not recall what happened after. Soon after being in this state of brilliance the glow began to fade, and Beisbeis surveyed his surroundings.
He was in that void once again; the moving portraits confirmed his reasoning. A seemingly innumerable amount of faces stared in every direction as they crossed by. Some passed through each other and vanished into space again.
As Beisbeis watched the pictures progress, he noticed in the background that a figure was approaching. The captain knew who this was; there was no doubt in his mind. As he watched the person grow closer, he bent to his knees for his respect, no matter how long it took for his Spirit to reach him. Less than a second later, something tapped him on the shoulder. He raised his head to find Hapori Tohu standing in front of him.
Beisbeis' initial reaction of 'How did he get here so fast' was washed from his mind as the comprehended the magnitude of whose presence he was in. Immediately he bowed down once again, still in shock that it was the Hapori Tohu. All his life he had been taught to look to the embodiment of BZ-Koro. However, to Beisbeis, he had only been someone from the past. Although the Spirit had done great things for BZ-Korans, he was a name, not a face. Now he was kneeling to a Spirit
That is why it appeared strange when he received another tap on the shoulder.
"Come, sit down," Hapori Tohu said, and created two milky-white, floating chairs out of thin air, or whatever gases were in that place. Beisbeis reluctantly still kneeled, and continued to do so until Hapori Tohu repeated his request. "Please sit down. It never helped us when I tried to talk to someone and the insisted on prostrating for forever."
Beisbeis quickly sat down on the chair and found it to be surprisingly comfortable. As he relaxed slightly on the space, Hapori Tohu clasped his hands together, leaned forward in his chair, and focused on his guest.
"I'm glad you came, Beisbeis. I needed to talk to you." Beisbeis nodded, confident in what he had done.
"Well, sir, I need your help with the Krana; I put it on, like you told me to, and– "
" – I didn't tell you to put it on," Hapori Tohu interjected. "I wanted you to come to me in the first place."
Beisbeis sat in the chair, shocked.
" – I – I thought – " He stammered, trying to find excuses for the Spirit. Hapori Tohu shook his head dejectedly.
"The Bahrag have a talent for the manipulation of minds and bringing it into the darkness. All of what you believed was mine except for the dreams were actually their doing. It was their bidding that you put on the Krana."
Beisbeis was shocked. Také had been right all along - there had been no need to put on the Krana at all. He had risked his soul for nothing!
He exhaled, still unsure of what to say. Hapori Tohu nodded, adjusting his seat to a more comfortable position.
"Let's talk."