Chapter 5
Beisbeis could tell where he was before he had reached his destination; the sense of vastness engulfed him a few moments before he appeared there. He was once again in Hapori Tohu's haven. Just with every instance as before, a shadow emerged in the distance, soon seen as the Spirit. His pace was steadily growing faster; strangely, it appeared that he was in a great hurry.
Beisbeis could not help but feel anxious as he watched Hapori Tohu advance and summon his image. Every occasion that he had received guidance for thus far, something unfortunate had occurred as a result. Mingled with his concern, however, was hope – hope that something new about him would be told. He was startled at what was his answer.
"The others will be in peril,
Where BZ-Koro begun,
Make haste to where they soon will fall,
And protect all that you have won."
His picture disappeared once again, and Hapori Tohu swiftly vanished out of sight –
Beisbeis woke up, panting. He was still propped up against the boulder. Everywhere around him his men were preparing to settle down for the day. A fire had already been started by a few Matoran a couple bio away, with most of them boiling water or warming cold hands. Také stood nearby, conversing with someone.
The captain lay on the ground a few moments longer, slowing his breath down. Také glanced at his woken captain and rushed to his side as Beisbeis pushed himself off the ground.
"Did you sleep well, sir?" The soldier asked as the Matoran adjusted his mask, "Did you get the information you needed?"
"Také,' Beisbeis said, choosing to ignore the question, "We're leaving. Now."
Také blinked startlingly. "What – what's wrong, sir?"
"Something's going to happen. We need to get there."
"Something? Get where? Where are we going? What are you talking about, sir?"
Beisbeis halted. He opened his mouth for a moment, and then shut it. He turned back to Také while he pulled his pack open. "Hapori Tohu came again. He said someone was going to be in danger - we need to help them."
Také stood, unsure. "Did Hapori Tohu warn you about something like this when you were with him?" Beisbeis hesitated for a moment. He had been warned about something happening– but he had no idea if this was what the Spirit was referring to. Even if it wasn't, he didn't want to worry Také about that; the Krana had taught him that lesson. The captain faced his lieutenant, placing his words carefully.
"He didn't give me any specifics – he just told me – something – was going to happen in the near future."
Také nodded quietly and moved towards the campground. "…Alright, then – where are we headed?"
Beisbeis stopped his packing. He had no idea where they were supposed to hurry to. For a second, he revolved to the direction of the place he thought about. BZ-Koro was cut off from them. Mata Nui would take too long to reach if something was to happen – and Beisbeis felt the message had been urgent. As he continued to spin and contemplated possible answers, he suddenly froze looking at the south.
"The quarry."
"The quarry, sir?" Také asked confusingly. Beisbeis took a few steps forward. At first his doubt was high; but with each step he took a prompting that this was the right way grew inside him.
"Yeah. I can't explain it, Také – but something's going to happen there, and we need to go." He walked quickly back to his backpack and put away the small items that had been left out. "Can you start getting everyone ready? I'll be there in a few minutes when everything is done."
"No problem," Také said reassuringly, and quietly went to work. Beisbeis waited a few seconds, sighed from his exhaustion that had not disappeared from his sleep, and soon joined Také in gathering the soldiers.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Fifteen minutes later, Beisbeis stood at the head of the valley, watching the men file out into the plains. Wind whipped in their faces as the group was led out. Beisbeis suddenly gained the impression that someone was watching him; as he revolved his head around, he saw a younger Matoran staring back at him. He gave a half-smile to the soldier. The Matoran did not return the smile; he turned to his neighbors and became engaged in hushed whisperings, as if their captain was not there. Beisbeis' heart sank; he had a shrewd idea of whom they were talking about. The captain shook his head dejectedly and followed everyone else, the last to leave the valley.
"All right, people, " he shouted as he ran to the front of the group, "We need to get to the quarry as soon as possible. We'll be stopping maybe once or twice along the way, but right now it is more important to get there quickly."
More whisperings began to emerge. "I thought we were supposed to be only going to the Suva!" One Matoran complained. Beisbeis sighed as he turned to the one who spoke.
"Circumstances change," he said wearily. "Someone needs help."
"Who? We don't even know if anyone is going to be at the quarry!" The soldier shouted. "It's a waste of time and energy. And since we've lost men now, who's to say we aren't going to lose more?"
Flashes of soldiers drowning in Lake Lamén rushed through Beisbeis' memory; at the mention of the dead he angrily threw his pack down and pointed at the Matoran. "Look, I didn't say you had to go. If you want to go back, you can go right on ahead. There's nothing stopping you - it's your choice."
He stood, breathing deeply to let his temper seep out of him. The crowd watched each other, warily watching who was going to abandon the group and return. After a half-minute a few people shook their heads and made their way back into the valley. The instigator of the questioning ignored his friend's pleas to remain and joined the few that left.
Beisbeis sighed as he watched the small numbers leave. It was not enough to make a huge difference; but the dissenters confirmed the fear he had had since the disaster at the lake – they no longer believed in him.
"…Sir?"
Beisbeis broke his trance. The rest of the Matoran stood, waiting for the next command. The captain smiled gratefully at them. "Thank you for staying with me. I'm glad we can still trust each other." He waited a few seconds while staring at the crowd; then he turned around and hurried south to the quarry, with the rest following behind.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Blocking. Parrying. Stabbing. No rest. No end.
The Matoran fought and fought. More came. No one else around him.
His arms grew weaker. His eyes blurred. He couldn't tell what he was fighting.
A loud shout broke what concentration he had. For some reason it comforted rather than frightened him. Amidst the carnage he was soothed by the noise. He felt a bond between it that gave him strength, clarity. His senses awakened from their lethargy, allowing him to strike the neck of the Nuhvok he was engaged with. The enemy gurgled as the Matoran relished his victory.
His satisfaction jerked into shock when an enormous pain seared his back. Tears rolled down his face as he fell to the ground. His eyes were hazier than before. Blood dripped on the soil. His life ebbed away….
Alone…
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Beisbeis hurried along at a quick pace, his men following just behind. They had been making their way south on the path to the canyon for almost two days now. All bodies were sore; many Matoran almost drifted into unconsciousness as they continued. Their lenient demeanors tensed as soon as the quarry was in sight.
They stood at the base of a three–way canyon; the west side descended in a jagged fashion, where blocks of protodermis were taken for the construction of BZ-Koro, while the north and west side was much smoother and easier to cross. Rotting, derelict structures of wood were all that was left of that time. The amazing spectacle was not what shocked the soldiers, however. It was what was taking place inside the quarry that was surprising. Matoran were fighting against Bohrok – from the green eyes, they appeared to be Nuhvok. Blue eyes, however, began to converge near the west side of the quarry, from the side of Mount Rûn. Beisbeis' eyes widened with desperation.
"They're in an ambush. And those Tahnok will finish them off unless we do something quick!"
"So what should we do, sir?" Také asked. Jets of fire coming from the Tahnok illuminated the landscape; inspiration seized Beisbeis as he saw the abandoned structures.
"We need to help in both ways," the captain said as he spun around, "So everyone to the right of Také will follow him and help free those Matoran. The rest will help me stall those Tahnok long enough until we are ready. Go!" Také's group swiftly broke apart and made their descent along the wooden platforms. Beisbeis began his own run, unsheathing his mace as he did so. "Come on!" he shouted to those behind him. They grabbed their weapons and followed.
The dying weeds rustled as Beisbeis passed by. His adrenaline boiled to the surface as he ran closer; that would be necessary after their journey. After five minutes of sprinting, however, they slowed down near the cliff's edge to watch the Tahnok enter the quarry. Surprise was more critical than sheer power at the moment.
The captain assessed the situation. The wooden "bridge" that was used to cross was merely a collection of planks hastily joined to other supports below. It was slightly lower than the top of the cliff, and the stairs to reach the area were nonexistent – but it was close enough to jump onto and not risk injury. The Tahnok were approaching where they were. It was an opportunity that could not be lost if they were going to win.
Beisbeis tried avoiding seeing how far down the floor was as he took a deep breath and leapt through the air onto the scaffolding. The wood creaked for a few seconds as Beisbeis held his breath, but the structure remained. Relieved, he signaled to the nearest Matoran to follow. One by one everyone held their breath as they made the crossing. The platform was stronger than what Beisbeis thought; soon the overpass groaned underneath the weight of ten Matoran. The grass swished to the side to make way for their remainder of the company to the west entrance to follow the Tahnok.
Fortunately, the Bohrok had taken just as long to make their way to the bottom. They seemed to be in no apparent hurry – only to be a barrier should any Matoran attempt to escape the carnage below. Suddenly, however, the Tahnok hunched together and began to tumble down the hill, increasing their speed as they continued.
"Arrows!" Beisbeis whispered as loud as he could, as the Bohrok rapidly grew closer to the edifice they were standing on. Strings tightened from the exertion. Soon the Bohrok were in range. Taking note of the spindly structure they stood on, Beisbeis whispered to the Matoran, "Don't let them get to the bottom alive – or they might destroy the supports. Be ready to jump in case, though."
Amidst the nearby noise, however, Beisbeis heard a faint cry: others were scaling the side of the quarry, rushing to meet the Tahnok. There was no chance of survival if they fought the Bohrok. Urgency was needed to stop them from death. The captain turned to face the Bohrok once again, and was shocked to see that they were rapidly approaching were they were.
"Shoot!" He shouted. A few of the Bohrok reared out of their curved position from the pain of the arrows. The rest, however, did not slow down their relentless rolling. Soon, some collided with the posts that were so flimsily embedded in the protodermis. The wood splintered into pieces, falling to the earth with a clunk. The structure groaned.
"Get off!" Beisbeis yelled; his soldiers were more than happy to comply. An array of light streamed from the masks as their powers were used to escape. Beisbeis ran to the edge of the platform and quickly halted before he realized his mistake. The cliff was higher than where he was standing, and any remnants of the stairs had already fallen. There was no way he could jump back over now. The rest of the Matoran had already crossed over and they had already begun running to the entrance of the quarry.
Beisbeis hesitated for a moment until the beam beneath him began to disintegrate and the edifice began to collapse. The Matoran dropped his mace, leapt off of the falling building, and collided into the Cliffside. His senses were violently compromised for an instant before he realized he was slipping. He desperately thrashed his hands everywhere, attempting to grab anything to stop his descent. He grasped something tough and thin – a root growing from out of the cliff. The sweat from Beisbeis' hand soaked the plant; bit-by-bit, he continued to slide down. His heart pumped faster. Abruptly, the root disappeared from his grip and was steadily rising above him – but before he could appreciate what that meant –
Pain instantly filled the Matoran's back as he struck something. Stars blocked his vision, although he could sense he was rolling down something. Soon something large ended his fall. Beisbeis coughed to regain the missing air, although his whole body ached when he did so. It took him a relatively short time despite his soreness to acknowledge what was in front of him.
It was a red claw, complete with a live Bohrok attached to it. All he could see were Tahnok, completely surrounding him; there was no escape that he could make. The one pointing its weapon at the Matoran slowly advanced. Beisbeis, petrified at what was approaching him, crawled back until the cold rough surface of a boulder came into contact with his skin. The Matoran strained to hear for a sign, for anything that would tell him that hope was coming. He could hear nothing but the quiet "Chikt" of the Bohrok; he was alone.
Beisbeis attempted to avoid the heat radiating from the claw, but there was nowhere to go. His heart pumped hard, for this time he truly had no way to defend himself. The Bohrok raised its claw to strike; Beisbeis' body tensed and his eyes closed in preparation of the attack.
A half-minute passed by. Beisbeis could still feel the heat coming towards him – but there was no added pain. The captain tentatively opened his eyes. The Bohrok stood in the same position as before; its arm was still outstretched ready to strike. Then – amazingly – it stepped away from the Matoran and joined the others, who were still staring at him. Beisbeis did not move; his muscles were still tense from the fear. Their eyes – they were not the usual expressionless faces he had grown accustomed to seeing. They were drawing him to them.
'Come to us. You are needed.'
Beisbeis hesitated for a moment. He knew not why he was attracted to their calls – it was almost as if he could not help himself. He was needed – that was all that necessary to know. He needed to fulfill his Purpose…
His senses grew duller; the Tahnok in front became misty and engulfed Beisbeis. He could only see hazy red in front of him that was soon disappearing. His instincts forced him to hold to his senses, but…
The mist and red quickly disappeared with a horrifying shriek that Beisbeis used to regain his senses with. Blood poured to the ground from the Tahnok that was in front of him.
"Are you all right, Beisbeis?" someone asked. Beisbeis focused his eyes at the thing that was steadily becoming clearer.
"…Khora?" The Matoran nodded.
"Where should we go?"
Beisbeis, still panting heavily, pointed to the junction at the bottom of the quarry. He grabbed his mace, was able to shout, "Ready your weapons!" before he could not speak again, and began running towards the center of the chaos. As he made his way down the ravine, however, his foot stumbled over something he could not perceive on the earth, flinching as he scraped the ground. When he turned to see what he had stumbled upon, it was only his lack of breath that prevented him from gasping in shock.
It was Niwan. Dried blood covered his still torso. The lack of movement testified that he had passed on from this body. His eyes overflowed with shock and betrayal.
Beisbeis knelt for a few seconds, catching his breath. The knowledge that the Head Matoran was dead, regardless of his beliefs, wrought a powerful change in the Matoran. The fury that he had kept under control before now had broken loose and was roaming free. Whether his rage was directed toward Niwan or the Bohrok, he did not know. Beisbeis grabbed his mace that lay next to him, tears of anger flowing, and ran into the fray, swinging his weapon into the back of a Nuhvok. The creature howled with pain, but the Matoran did not heed its cries. He quickly silenced it by cracking its headplate, the fluids lubricating the Krana slowly oozing out.
Beisbeis removed his mace with a grunt and turned to engage another opponent. To his great astonishment, however, he saw a silent battlefield, with each of the Bohrok staring directly at their contenders. Some Matoran used these strange circumstances to their advantage by finishing their battles; but the majority remained intently looking at those they battled. The captain backed away in surprise – it was oddly antagonistic, as if they were watching them individually. Then, as though an agreement of peace had been reached, the creatures retreated from the fight and began making their way onto the path leading to Mount Rûn.
The Matoran hesitated for a moment, making sure a trap was out of the question. An impression came to him – one that was calm and soothing compared to the atrocities he had just seen.
'Do not worry. They will not return. Bring those who have died back to me. We will give them an honorable departure.'
The captain dropped his mace and fell to the ground, exhausted. All around him small cheers escaped some of the Matoran, although most remained silent.
"What should we do now, sir?"
The Matoran raised his head to find Také standing by his side, anxious to finish the task and leave the place. Beisbeis looked around for a few seconds before he stood up and said, "Grab everyone – dead or alive. We're bringing them all back; they deserve a better place to sleep than here." Beisbeis glanced around the dark quarry. "It looks like there's enough carts around here that we can use." Také, along with a few others that remained with all limbs intact unhurriedly began organizing the effort. One person, however, stood out in Beisbeis' mind, before all other. The captain retraced his steps and found who he was looking for.
The green Mahiki mask lay on the ground, partially cracked. Beisbeis picked up the mask and placed it back on Niwan's face. The Head Matoran's eyes overflowed with shock and betrayal. The Matoran bent down to carry the former leader of BZ-Koro to the wooden cart with the respect that he could show, although he was sure his frustration of his leader's actions lay on the surface.
He slowly came to the cart and placed the body down, next to a Matoran with a deep red bandage around his head. As Niwan was placed down, the soldier shoved the body away and informed Beisbeis venomously, "Don't bring him with us. He doesn't deserve it."
Beisbeis curiously stared at the Matoran, confusion in his face. "Why doesn't he?"
The injured person stared down bitterly at Niwan. "He betrayed us."
Beisbeis' eyes opened wide with surprise. "What?"
The soldier's eyes blearily looked back. "You heard me. We were going to be given to the Bahrag if we hadn't fought back." He pointed at the corpse while he glared at Beisbeis. "He is a traitor to our Koro, and he deserves to rot with those demons he bargained with."
Beisbeis froze, shocked at what he heard. Although Niwan had been a frustration when the Bohrok were discovered and had remained stubborn and hindered Beisbeis' cause… he never suspected that Niwan would actually join those enemies whom they had fought. His own entangled emotions about what to do were soon replaced with that same sooth voice he had heard just a few minutes ago. Through his voice his thoughts came through.
"No. No. We cannot leave him here."
"And why not?" the soldier asked disbelievingly, folding his arms with his mouth slightly open.
"Because we are bringing everyone with us. He was once good, and we will honor that good of him."
The Matoran paused for a moment before he sighe, shook his head doubtfully, took one more glance at Niwan, and turned to his side so he would not have to look at the corpse. Beisbeis sighed as well before turning away. He was not sure he believed what he said, either.
He was spared from wondering about he said when Khora placed another body onto the transportation. Beisbeis' eyes widened once again as he looked down and was faced with another familiar person. Congealed blood that had previously poured from a gash covered the right side of his face – but even so, he was still recognizable.
It was Sori.
"He was on the path towards Mount Rûn," Khora responded quietly, "There were Matoran and Bohrok all around him. Most of them were dead or died soon after we found them." Beisbeis exhaled quickly, his tired eyes shut from the despairing news. His hand extended to the face as Beisbeis mourned the choices the Matoran had made.
Suddenly, Beisbeis felt a faint brush from Sori's neck. The captain shifted his body, placing his fingers on the artery below the neck. After a short wait, it was felt again – very slight, and gone almost as soon as it happened. It was enough.
"He's alive," he whispered, relieved. Khora bent over alongside the officer to examine the victim closer while Beisbeis sat down again on the wagon. Joy engulfed him while he rested. At least one was alive; the journey had become worthwhile. Beisbeis remained where he was for a minute to revel in the victory before continuing the task at hand. Others were not as lucky; lamentations for the dead rent the air that morning.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The dark over the island silently disappeared as the enormous ball of fire rose over the horizon. A figure of white was closely followed by one in red. The two traveled around the rough landscape as the sun revealed their path – one that had been traveled many times. Soon they came to a halt in the shadow of an enormous mountain, looking into the depths of an equally enormous hole.
"Look, Tahu! There is the proof you demanded!" The white figure announced, looking grimly into the expanse. The red figure known as Tahu furrowed his nonexistent eyebrows as he stared into the cavern.
"No wonder Vakama knew so much about the Bohrok. They are not creatures from some other land – they come from Mata Nui itself!"
As light slowly exposed more of the opening, the white one noticed small Tahnok Va climbing their way to the surface. They and their yellow Krana created their own light, illuminating the cavern with a sickly, fire-like color.
Tahu seemed to ignore the foreboding image and leapt into the air, calling upon the powers of his golden Hau and bursting small amounts of bright energy through his feet as to levitate. As he began to lower himself near the Bohrok, he called out, "The time has come to end this, Kopaka! With our combined powers, we can –"
"Have you learned nothing?" Kopaka called, "Charging in there now will not save this island. The Krana are the key!"
Tahu hesitated for a moment, landing on the boulder below his brother, emotions rising. "Ever moment we delay, the Bohrok and Bohrok Va are free to overrun this land." The Toa of Fire turned to the Toa of Ice, eyes of passionate red staring into harsh ones of blue. After a few seconds Tahu turned back to look down into the hole. The Tahnok were growing closer. "Still, you are right. As long as our people are threatened, we don't have the luxury of being merely warriors. So I will heed your advice… this time." The red hero of Mata Nui looked down at his hands, longing to put his fire-sword to good use. "But we should regroup with the others so we can strike the Bohrok – hard. Do you know where Gali is?"
The two Toa turned away from the entrance, discussing where their Brothers and Sister could be found as the Bohrok continued their relentless ascent.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The same dawn that revealed the nest of the Bohrok to Tahu and Kopaka also greeted itself to the caravan of Matoran somberly treading the steps of the dusty path they had taken just a few days earlier. Short scrubs dotted the earth; the repetitive landscape made Beisbeis all the more eager to move on. The journey this time took much longer because of the number of the casualties – and the lack of any pack animals that could ease their burden. He had been pushing the wagon for much of the previous day, and now his strength was spent.
However, not long after sunrise the brush became more green and olive. Small insect were seen darting about for food. Looking ahead, Beisbeis, relieved, noticed the sloping earth that told them they had reached the valley.
Near the building in the distance a crowd noticed the spectacle and hurriedly started running through the bushes towards the mouth of the valley. The captain simply ignored those who he passed; he did not need to tell those who had left them what had happened. They would see, and understand.
A solemn silence continued until the Matoran halted in front of the Suva. One deserter hesitantly came in front of Beisbeis. The captain looked up at the Matoran while he brushed himself off. "Yes?"
"Well – " the soldier began, "well, we're – we're sorry that we left you back there. It wasn't right of us to do so."
The captain remained staring at the Matoran for a few seconds. He had nothing but contempt for the person in front of him. Soon, however, he felt another impression:
'Let it go. Burying the dead will be justice enough.'
Beisbeis sighed and turned to those in the carts.
"Then let's get busy. We have a lot to do."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Piles of corpses lay, awaiting their fate. One by one, the number of bodies dwindled – and the number of disturbed mounds grew. Each burial was the same, however. The soil was gingerly removed and set aside, there to claim a victim. Beisbeis turned to the Matoran watching beside him. "We have another one ready," he whispered. The soldier nodded, and the two stepped lightly to the line of bodies. As soon as the deceased was in sight, however, Beisbeis heard an intake of breath form the other Matoran.
"What is it?" he asked, turning to his companion. He found a face of shock and fear staring at the next person to be buried. Beisbeis opened his arms as the person flung into them, tears flowing down and howls bemoaning the air.
"Do you know him?" the captain asked.
"I – I can't do this," said the Matoran between gasps of air. "I don't – don't –"
"Don't what?" Asked Beisbeis curiously.
"Des - deserve it." The soldier looked away from the body as he forced himself to continue. "I stayed behind, and – and he went on, because he…"
"He died at the quarry?" Beisbeis asked gently. Fresh tears flowed once more. Beisbeis hesitated for a moment. And, yet… there was something there, telling him what to say as he placed his hand on the Matoran's shoulder.
"I can think of no better person to uphold his honor than you. You have respect for him that no one could have."
"But sir –" the Matoran stammered, before Beisbeis clasped his shoulder.
"I know that he would have wanted you to do it for him. And I'm not forcing you to do this. It's your choice."
A minute went by, with no response. The Matoran stared frighteningly at Beisbeis for a few seconds before looking away; trying to find somewhere to focus his attention so he could decide. As his eyes passed over the ground, the bush, he noticed his friend's body. The Matoran gave a long sigh before he made his way to it. Beisbeis followed behind him.
It seemed to take forever to transport the lifeless Matoran to the hole. Tears poured out of the Matoran's face like water out of a cistern. Beisbeis retained whatever composure he had remaining – although his arms and shoulders began shaking as they grew nearer to the grave.
Slowly the body descended. The skin met contact with the earth. The body rose slightly as Beisbeis removed his arms. The soldiers remained holding on, looking into the dead Matoran's eyes; the captain felt another prompting, unseen and unfelt but by him.
"Let him go," he whispered.
The Matoran bit his lip as he looked one last time. He loosened his grip; the body drifted to fit the space. Immediately the Matoran leapt to Beisbeis, sobbing uncontrollably. Beisbeis comforted as best as he knew how; as he looked past the Matoran with him, however, he could see the same scene occurring everywhere. Matoran carried their dead to their places – and once or twice the burier would come across one he knew. Cries were everywhere, and Beisbeis could do nothing to ease their suffering. The captain sighed quietly, his heart aching from his inability.
"I need to do something," he told the weeping soldier, "If you would like to stop working now, that's fine. Just don't be alone, okay?" The Matoran nodded; Beisbeis left him and silently passed the lines of bodies. No one saw him enter the Suva.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
When the light dissipated Beisbeis found himself inside the endless expanse, the images still drifting along. It was not the pictures that Beisbeis had come to see, though.
"Welcome again, Beisbeis." The Matoran spun around to find the leader of BZ-Koro staring back at him. "May I inquire about why you have decided to come?"
Beisbeis hesitated for a moment. "Well, sir – uh…" He dropped his head, searching for the right words.
"Does it have anything to do with those men on The Island who mourn their loss?" Hapori Tohu asked quietly. Beisbeis raised his head, surprised at the answer.
"Sir… Can you read minds?"
"I will not pretend that I do," Hapori Tohu replied frankly as he sat down on a newly materialized chair. "I am simply guided by the same Spirit that you are – the Great Spirit's. It provides inspiration to us – you have felt it before. I can provide the dreams – the Spirit guides you with them. It is what keeps us sane with which we would otherwise be lost without."
Beisbeis sighed quietly, looking at the lack of expanse below him. "I think… I am lost, sir." Hapori Tohu looked concernedly at the Matoran. "I… I couldn't save them. So many have died. I know," he started, as Hapori Tohu opened his mouth, "I know you're going to say that what's done is done or something like that. I just…" He trailed, looking back down again.
Hapori Tohu folded his arms and waited for a while again before he looked back up at Beisbeis with weariness once again in his eyes.
"I know how you feel," he whispered, looking around at the portraits. "I couldn't save them, either. And I would love to be able to be free from this prison, so I could be with my people once again. But I can't." Hapori Tohu looked back up at Beisbeis giving a half-smile. "There are just some things that you cannot do – no matter – "
Hapori Tohu suddenly halted his comment and turned behind him, staring into the distance. Curious, Beisbeis tried to look past the Spirit – and found him staring back at the Matoran, smiling.
"Someone wants to meet you," he said calmly.
Confused, Beisbeis looked at Hapori Tohu to confirm he was serious. The Spirit's eyes betrayed nothing of mockery, so he began to tilt his head left and right, searching for another Matoran from the void.
"I would suggest looking behind."
Beisbeis obeyed the advice from the Spirit – and looked into one of the floating images. Inside was a Matoran with a brown Rau – and deep blue eyes. There was something familiar about that face… Suddenly –
"Wait… Is that – "
"Yes."
Beisbeis hesitantly stepped forward, watching the image as he did so. He had seen that Matoran before – but it was when the one in the picture was cold and lifeless. There was no doubt, though; it was the Matoran he buried at the beach.
The Matoran tried turning his head elsewhere – but the blue eyes behind the mask forced him to continue staring. No matter how much he tried or how badly he wanted to, his guilt was not enough. Very slowly and deliberately, the blue eyes softened, the cheeks rose, and the chin lowered.
The emotion began inside of Beisbeis until it spread forth to the rest of his body. His arms, his legs, and his frame – all began to quiver. His breathing was ragged, and his trembling was uncontrollable – but he could not move his eyes. Tears rolled down his face as the Matoran in the image opened his mouth and breathed out.
'Thank you.'
The connection was broke. Beisbeis fell to the ground, gasping for air. After a few seconds, he remembered where he was and looked up. The image had returned to its original state; now it gradually picked up speed – and soon was away in the void.
The only sound heard was Beisbeis' breath returning to normal. He turned to Hapori Tohu, looking for understanding in the event he had just witnessed. The Spirit gave a small smile and raised his eyebrows. Beisbeis returned the grin. Now he understood.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The light in the room gravitated towards the center as Beisbeis emerged from the Suva. The captain stumbled to the ground, his energy spent once again. After a few minutes of returning his heartbeat to normal, he pushed one of the room's doors open and slipped through the crack. This time, however, he did not face the morning – the red sun was already in the foreground against a purplish backdrop. An eerie silence was over the campsite, out of respect for the fallen. Even so, it was still uneasy.
Amidst the Matoran gathering firewood and setting up camp, Beisbeis noticed an especially odd incident. Despite the efforts made by the men, one corpse lay in the middle of the clearing. All that walked past it ignored it, as though it did not exist. Beisbeis hesitantly stepped forward, although he recognized whom it was before he reached it. It was Niwan.
For a few seconds Beisbeis was tempted to follow the others and leave their fallen leader. All that flashed through his mind were the times Niwan were obstinately firm in his decisions that cost lives. As he turned away, however, a voice entered into him and he hesitated.
'Remember your promise. You said you would do it.'
Beisbeis mentally shook his head. 'But look at what he did to us – he wanted to give us to the Bohrok! He was evil!'
'That is not for you to judge. You have enough problems of your own without condemning him, whether he was right or wrong.'
Beisbeis did not retort; he knew that the voice was right. He sighed despondently, turned around, and lifted Niwan up before he had another chance to think it over. Only two people watched him carry the body away to the back of the valley; the rest were preoccupied with their own thoughts of home.
The sun crept below the horizon when Beisbeis reached his destination. He pulled out his lightstone; it illuminated the many new headstones around him and cast shadows everywhere. Beisbeis looked around hopefully and found what he was looking for. He grabbed the abandoned shovel and forced the blade into the soft soil.
It only took a surprisingly small amount of time for the burial; yet when Beisbeis placed the marker in the ground, dark surrounded the area. The captain knelt to the ground and sighed, watching the grave as if it would talk to him.
"Why did you do it, Niwan?" he mumbled sadly. "Why'd you have to listen to them? It could have been so much better for all of us. We might not be so far away from home – you might have still been with us. Oh, why did you do it?" Dirt went flying form his hand onto the wooden marker. The noise seemed deadened by the black as Beisbeis calmed himself again.
"Niwan followed what he thought was best, what would help him." Beisbeis jerked around to find Sori behind him, his feet striding nervously forward. "He could never separate right and wrong."
"…Are you doing all right?" Beisbeis asked coolly after a few seconds. The last time he saw this face was when it was sneering back at him. The memory still lingered in Beisbeis' mind, as the Matoran associated with the expression grew nearer.
"I'm doing much better, thank you," Sori said hurriedly, his eyes glancing around in the darkness. "Um…"
Beisbeis raised his eyebrows. "Yes?"
Sori sighed quickly and focused on Beisbeis' feet. "Beisbeis, I just wanna say that I'm… I'm sorry for what I did – to you and – well, everyone. Niwan blinded me to what was right, as well, but it was my choice, and I just… well – " He trailed off, looking at Beisbeis for his confirmation. After a few seconds of pondering, the captain raised his head and stared at Sori fiercely.
"I forgive you, Sori… but I do not trust you yet. That will take some time."
The Matoran sighed once more, looking back into the black. "…I understand." A moment of awkward silence passed before Sori turned around and started towards the campsite. Beisbeis could see the Matoran pass a faint light that steadily grew closer to him. It was Také.
"What were you doing here, sir?" Asked the Matoran, holding his small torch in his hand. Beisbeis sighed and stood to pick up the shovel.
"Oh, just… tying up some loose ends." The captain paused for a moment at the grave and then looked into the darkness where Sori had went. There was silence for a few seconds before Také moved forward.
"Sir, are you all right?"
Beisbeis broke his connection with the dark and glanced at Také. "Huh? Yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine…"
Také wiped his lips and sat down on a boulder nearby, and turned to face Beisbeis. "…Are you sure?"
The captain stared skeptically. "You don't believe me?" Také shook his head and watched Beisbeis anxiously.
"I don't mean… It just seems that something's been on your mind lately…"
Beisbeis shrugged uncomfortably. "Well, a lot has happened lately…"
"Sir, if you need me – "
"There's nothing wrong, Také," Beisbeis interjected, a little too hurriedly. Také shook his head again, fear in his eyes.
"Sir, with all due respect, I feel something is wrong, and I don't – "
"Listen," Beisbeis interrupted, "If something is wrong, I'll let you know. Okay?"
Také waited for a couple of seconds before he stared back at Beisbeis. "Can you promise me that you are all right?"
There was silence. Beisbeis breathed in and looked into Také's eyes.
"Yes," he exhaled. He held the gaze until Také turned away and sighed.
"Alright," he said.
The only sound that could be heard was the light wisp of wind that spoke of discomfort. Beisbeis stood up quickly and grabbed his lightstone.
"Well… good night, Také."
Také smiled unenthusiastically. "Good night, sir."
The light merged into the dark as the captain left the Matoran to dwell on his fears.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
'I sense them. They draw close.'
The Bahrag lay in the enormous cavern. All around their feet innumerable amounts of Bohrok and Bohrok Va scrambled over each other to the Will. More than usual.
'We will deal with them when the need arises. Our preparations must be complete if the Mission is to succeed.'
Tumbling. Crawling. Struggling.
'Is it ready?'
Gahdok signaled to a Lehvak Va, who began the underground march to The Island.
'Yes. Now it is… finished.'