(A/N): We've had a lot of action-packed chapters lately, so let's slooooow things down a little and let the characters breathe. Why not? They need breaks too! (And so do I - can't have a balls-to-the-wall action scene with every update, my fingers will never forgive me.) Or at least...that was the intention of this chapter, before it too ended up being just over 10k words...
In any case, thanks for sticking around as always, and I hope you enjoy!
Takua had to give the Le-Matoran credit - they certainly knew how to celebrate.
Cheerful, upbeat music filled the night air and echoed across the once-silent village, courtesy of the skilled musicians playing masterfully on a variety of wood-carved instruments. Lightstones hung over the doorways of huts and swayed on cables attached to branches, shining through colored glass filters and bathing the area in red, blue, and green glows. And the wooden platforms of Le-Koro were filled with villagers whooping and cheering as they danced, some wearing grass skirts and standing on stages while others simply stamped their feet and spun alongside their partners.
It wasn't just the Le-Matoran celebrating, either. Turaga Matau stood off to the side in front of a wooden barrel, handing out bowls of clear violet liquid to nearby villagers and tapping his foot in time with the music. Taipu did his best to copy the energetic, enthusiastic dancing of the tree-dwellers, and though his attempts were clumsy he laughed and smiled all the same. But the center of attention was undoubtedly Penny, who twirled and giggled as she flitted between diminutive dance partners, her long burnt-orange hair and ruffled skirt flowing in the breezes that followed her.
It was almost enough to make him want to join in.
Almost.
Instead, he sighed and shuffled over to the village elder, doing his best to flow into the dancing crowds that passed him over. When he came close enough, he could see that Matau was rolling a now-empty barrel away, cutting a new slot into a fresh wooden cask with his staff. Then he stuffed a faucet of some kind into the opening, shoved it onto a set of wood blocks, and let the purple liquid flow once more into the waiting bowls. Le-Matoran cheered around the Turaga before departing, sipping on their drinks and allowing the Chronicler to walk over.
"Ah! There you are, story-keeper!" Matau grinned a mischievous grin as he thrust a freshly-filled bowl into the Ta-Matoran's empty hands. "Enjoying the party-cheer so far?"
Takua shrugged. "Yeah, it's…great. Very lively and colorful." He watched as Penny bent at the knees while holding the hem of her skirt, smiling and giggling to the pair of Le-Matoran standing atop one another to match her height. "I think she's enjoying it more, though. This is more her speed."
"Not yours, fire-spitter?"
"If it was, I don't remember it," said Takua with a sigh, rattling off the same explanation he'd given a dozen times by now. "I've…lost my memory."
"Oh, I'm very sorry to hear that. What happened?"
"Well, that's the thing, I don't remember - " He looked up at the Turaga, who was barely holding back laughter. "Oh. Oh, I get it now. It's a joke. The punchline is that I don't know how I lost my memory. Hah, very funny."
Matau cackled and slapped his thigh. "Hah! Hahahaha! Ah…and they say Ta-Matoran don't have a sense of humor. Hilarious!"
"Thanks…I think." Takua examined the bowl of strange liquid he'd been handed, raising an eyebrow behind his mask as he caught a whiff of something foul-smelling and rancid. "Ugh. What is this stuff, anyways?"
"Why, it's Bula-wine!" Matau proclaimed cheerfully as he filled another bowl. "These stores of fermented berry-juice are kept under tight-lock in my hut, only passed out by me for the grandest of celebrations." The Turaga of Le-Koro grinned. "Judging by what we've all been through, I would say a night like this qualifies. Wouldn't you, story-keeper?"
The Chronicler watched as Tamaru dramatically gulped down a bowl that was almost as big as his mask, took three steps forward, and promptly tripped over his own two feet. Other Le-Matoran cackled and doubled over in laughter, propping the moaning leaf-runner up by the arms and carrying him away. Up in a tree, Radka was sharing her portion of wine with another female villager, girlish giggles ringing out from both Matoran between each sip.
"Can't think of much else that warrants it, no," he finally admitted. He looked back up at the Turaga. "So what happens now? You're not worried the Nui-Rama are gonna try and attack again?"
"Without a singular hive-nest, they'll be scattered and weak-willed for a good while. Makuta will struggle to keep them under his thumb while they free-roam, which means we'll have a chance to easy-breathe for the first time in many moons." The village elder took a sip from his own bowl, his brow furrowing under his pale green mask as his smile faded into a scowl. "Besides, I doubt Makuta would be so brazen as to try another attack like that. Not after losing his Toa-pawn."
Takua tilted his head at how bitter the elder's demeanor suddenly grew. "You almost sound…upset that Lewa's back to his usual self."
"Hmph. That he is, story-teller. Back to his usual self. His stubborn, delusional, air-headed self." Matau sighed, sloshing around his drink and staring down at its rippling depths. "Don't misunderstand - I am grateful that our patron Toa-hero no longer serves the Makuta, and that his mind is once more his own. But a great deal of why we were in such dark-danger is because he refused to heed my wise-counsel, putting himself right into the claws of that shadow-spirit with his foolhardy recklessness. Even now, after the awful-dark ordeal, he continues to push others away - he stayed only long enough to ensure our safety, then wind-flew away yet again. Why, if he wasn't the Toa of Air, I'd have banished him myself for endangering us all with his stupid-stunts."
The Turaga of Le-Koro shook his head as he took another swig through his mask. "The people of Le-Koro value freedom above all else, calling the entire high-sky and every tree-branch their home. It is why we build our village and outposts in the sturdiest canopies of the jungle, and why being forced underground was so dark-hard for us under Makuta's thumb. I understand that Lewa manifests that aspect of his element more than any one of us…but that very freedom was only ever-meant to mean freedom of movement and choice. It does not mean freedom from allies, and it most certainly does not mean freedom from the Three Virtues. Unity, Duty, Destiny…it starts with Unity, always and forever. This is something that a Toa-hero cannot change, no matter how much hot wind-air he blows about it."
Takua looked down at his bowl, swirling the wine and humming thoughtfully. "Wow…" he said quietly. "I've…never actually heard a Turaga talk about their Toa like that before. Pretty much everyone in the other villages treats them like they're these perfect saviors, almost like they're the embodiment of Mata Nui himself. Guess even they're not immune to making mistakes, huh?"
"No creature that walks the face of the island is perfect," agreed Matau as he downed yet another gulp of wine. "Let's just say that I understand, better than most, how much a Toa-hero can have in common with the worst traits of their respective Matoran." He flashed a grin and cackled. "Of course, that goes both way-sides too, you know - in the face of incredible dark-threat, even a regular Matoran can be just as brave-spirited as them. But I'm sure you know all about that, don't you Takua?"
The Chronicler nodded. "Yeah…I've seen the Toa at their best and at their worst, and we've done things that even they couldn't do. Sure, Penny still did most of the heavy lifting with her Semblance, but…" He smiled behind his mask. "It still feels good, y'know? Being able to save the day, even without anything that makes a Toa…well, a Toa."
"Hah, very well-said," laughed the Turaga with a nod. He pointed to Takua's heartlight, tapping twice against its yellow lens. "Within every Matoran lies the heart-power of a Toa, waiting to be unleashed." A twisted smirk spread under his mask. "Sometimes literally! Why, according to some legend-stories, many Toa-heroes actually begin their lives as Matoran-folk!"
Wait…what?
Takua's eyes widened as his mind reeled. Matoran…turning into Toa? What was that about? How was that possible? And what did he mean by 'many' Toa? Were there…other Toa out there beyond the ones that came to Mata Nui?
He had so many questions…and judging by how the Turaga's eyes widened as if he'd realized a grave mistake he made, Takua wasn't gonna get answers for any of them.
"Oh. Err. Ah. Never mind!" Matau laughed nervously as he verbally backpedaled, looking into his now-empty bowl. "Whoops, seems I've deep-drunk a little too much of the Bula-wine myself! Haha, classic Matau, letting silly-little words slip-fly like that without thinking, telling tall-tales and myth-stories and other false-facts! Don't write down anything I say tonight, scribbler - I won't be held accountable for my drunk-speech."
Well now…that was odd.
"Riiiight," said Takua slowly, mentally filing away that can of lava eels as he handed his wine bowl back to the Turaga. "Well, if there's nothing else you need from us, then I guess Penny and I won't be here much longer. With the highway between the villages complete, I'm planning to go to Ta-Koro first thing in the morning to record at least some of what I've heard and seen so far. You know, before I lose my memory…again."
Matau seemed grateful for the shift in topic, laughing heartily and clasping a hand around his shoulder. "Spoken like a true Ta-Matoran committed to his Duty. You'll make a fine Chronicler, brave little fire-spitter."
"Takuaaaaa! Come and dance with me!"
He blinked. "Huh? Come and what now? WHOA!"
The Chronicler barely had time to process Penny's words before his friend grabbed him by the hands and pulled him away from Turaga Matau, lifting him into the air and spinning around with him. The village elder cackled at the sight of the little Ta-Matoran being dragged off, and several nearby Le-Matoran whooped and cheered him on. Takua wanted to squirm and scream in protest, but the sheer joy radiating from the young girl's smile as she twirled and stepped in time with the music was a spell he didn't want to break. So instead he let out a small chuckle of his own and locked his fingers with hers, doing his best to keep up with Penny as soon as she set him down.
Maybe it was okay to have fun for a little while.
Though as they danced the night away, part of him wondered if Makuta would end up leaving them with anything to celebrate.
One hundred and seven…one hundred and eight…one hundred and nine…one hundred and ten…
Emerald closed her eyes and surrendered herself to the cool embrace of the water around her, mentally counting off the seconds as bubbles trickled through her pursed lips. She lay on the muddy lake bottom wearing only mint-green undergarments that served admirably as a bikini, arms tucked behind her head and her long bare legs idly kicking through the murky depths. A small stone - one just heavy enough to overcome her own buoyancy - sat on her exposed belly like a comforting weight, allowing her to relax and recline underwater without worrying about floating away.
…one hundred and thirteen, one hundred and fourteen…one hundred and fifteen…
A small bubbly moan slipped out as she shook her head, relishing the sensation of her hair flowing around her. This…this was nice, being underwater like this. No drowning herself to retrieve some mask. No tension in her chest while hiding from dangerous Rahi. Just relaxing on a bed of wet clay and mud, watching the surface as it rippled with each bubble that spilled from her lips and returned to the world above. After three days - gods, had it really been only three days? - of leading the Le-Matoran, she was grateful for a chance to finally just…breathe.
Glubbbb.
…metaphorically speaking, of course.
Her crimson eyes fluttered open at the sudden spasm and pressure spike in her chest, feeling the need for another breath a lot sooner than she usually did. Not that it was surprising - in fact, given how physically and mentally exhausting the last few days had been, she was amazed her mental count hit triple digits at all. So she let out some more bubbles to ease the tension as she rolled the stone off her shuddering stomach, kicked off the lake bed, and blew out the rest of her air as she ascended. The cool night greeted her as she poked her face through the water, relief flowing through her as she took one long gasp.
"Ahhhh…hmm…"
She chuckled softly and shook her head as fresh air filled her lungs, kicking backward and grabbing the edge of the shore to hang from her elbows. As water dribbled from of her ears, the sounds of night in the jungle filled them back up; Emerald could make out the distant cries of monkey-like Brakas packs, the affectionate chirps of Taku birds caring for their young, and even the echoing roar of an ash bear going hunting with her cubs. Her time with the native people of Le-Wahi had helped her make sense of what was once just overwhelming noise, so now she could accurately guess what each call and cry meant, what was making it, and how dangerous it was.
And of course, even this far out from Le-Koro, she could still hear the music of celebration.
A sigh escaped her lips as she cast her gaze in the song's direction, catching flashes of colored lights even through the darkened trees. If circumstances were any different, a party like the one raging in the wooden village would have been like the world's biggest dinner bell, drawing every hostile Rahi from miles around right to their front door. But now, with Lewa freed from Makuta's control and the Nui-Rama hive in ruins, the Le-Matoran felt comfortable celebrating not just the return of their missing villagers, but also their victory over the forces of evil. It didn't matter how often Makuta darkened their skies, the songs and dances seemed to say - the people of Le-Koro would celebrate all the same.
Emerald had to admit, she was almost impressed at how willfully blind they were.
She slumped and sank until the lower half of her face was underwater, blowing bubbles through her mouth and nose while staring dejectedly into the ripples. So the Le-Matoran survived one disaster and won a few battles. Good. That didn't mean that the war was over, or that shadows no longer loomed on the horizon. Tomorrow Makuta could flip a switch in his mind and decide that murder would be the best and swiftest option to take control of the island, and not even the Toa would be able to stop him or save everyone. Or he could amass another army of Rahi and just raze their village to the ground, like he almost did in Ta-Koro just a few hours earlier. At least on Remnant, mass attacks from the Grimm could be (temporarily) put off by managing panic levels and building up defenses, but the beasts here had no such rhyme or reason to their rampages. Spending just a week on Mata Nui had shown Emerald how hopeless the situation here was - the tree-dwelling villagers had to see that after a thousand years of living here.
Maybe this celebration was how the Le-Matoran coped with that crushing ennui. Maybe they danced and sang tonight because they knew they might not get a chance to do so tomorrow.
Or maybe I'm just being bitter and jaded because Lewa ditched me. Again.
"Not much of a party person either, huh?"
Emerald almost choked on the lake water as a familiar voice reached her ears, shocking her out of her brooding spiral. She pulled her face back up with a slight gasp and cough, whirling around to face the woman that managed the impossible task of sneaking up behind her. Sure enough, Blake Belladonna stood on her edge of the shore with a confident smirk, her bare arms folded across her chest and her stance confident and lopsided. Though it was mostly hidden by her sleeveless black stealth suit, she could still see the ends of a strip of white cloth that looped around the Faunus's back and shoulder - the clearest mark of the battle that had taken its toll on both of the girls.
"Eh, you see one Le-Matoran party, you've seen them all," she answered once she could speak without sputtering. Then she tilted her head as she pushed off the lake's edge, reflexively treading water as she swam away from the shore to give herself and the newcomer some more room. "How's your back?"
"Doesn't hurt as much," answered Blake with a roll of her bare shoulder. "My Aura's recharged at least a little bit in the hours since the fight, so it's already started healing. And Onua helped with washing out the wound and changing the bandage; he even mixed some kind of medicinal mud with his elemental powers that'll help with keeping it sealed." She sighed. "Honestly, I'm more upset about losing the coat and all its pockets than anything else - but at least the Le-Matoran were nice enough to make this for me. Wouldn't really be able to carry around my Dust and ammo and things like that otherwise."
Emerald chuckled as she watched the feline Faunus proudly show off her newest accessory: a satchel woven out of leaves dyed black and sturdy branches. "Inventive little guys, aren't they? From these bags that the leaf-runners use to that cute little rucksack that Takua runs around with…their storage solutions look so simple, yet they can hold just about anything. We should learn how to make them while we're here. I'll bet we'd make a killing back on Remnant by selling them."
"Coco would probably want, like, ten of these." Blake smirked. "One for each of her outfits."
Another breathy laugh rang out as she reached the middle of the lake. "Only ten? That's a low-ball estimate, girl. Try twenty. Oh, and make sure each one fits a minigun somehow!"
The two girls giggled for a moment as they reminisced about Team CFVY's fabulous fashionista leader, then sighed as the silence settled between them.
"So, what brings you all the way out here?" asked Blake with a tilt of her head.
"Felt like going for a midnight swim and the beach was too far away," answered the former thief as she dipped her head back, letting water flow into her mint-green hair. "Also, I haven't had any 'me' time in days. Didn't exactly have a chance for self-care when I was trying to keep the little guys hidden from Makuta."
The raven-haired Huntress nodded in understanding. "Well, don't let me interrupt it then. Unless it's alright if I join you?"
Emerald shrugged. "Knock yourself out. Just don't splash me. This is a splash-free zone."
With a nod and a smile Blake undid the zipper of her sleeveless catsuit and pulled it down to her ankles, stepping out of the skintight outfit and the attached boots all at once. A faint blush reached Emerald's cheeks as she gazed over the shadowy Huntress's slim yet generous figure, eyes falling over thin wiry muscles and smooth, tanned skin. Her small clothes, which consisted of a black strapless brassiere and a pair of deep violet briefs, were simple and utilitarian yet oddly alluring. Just like the rest of her.
Damn. No wonder Blondie's got the hots for her. This girl is gorgeous.
Blake must have noticed her blush and decided to tease her, because she made a slow, careful show of lowering herself into the lake to give Emerald a nice long look at her best features. Either that, or the wound across her back was giving her pause. Whatever the case, she waded up to her shoulders and dipped underwater with a small breath, surfacing a moment later with a sigh and a shake of her hair.
"Mmm…that's nice," she practically purred. "You had the right idea, Em."
"I have those occasionally," said the blushing thief with a soft laugh. "Don't suppose you know how long you can hold your breath, do you?"
Blake gave a mischievous grin. "Come join me down there, and we'll find out together," she said before inhaling deeply and slipping under the surface with a small trickle of bubbles. Willing her racing heart to slow down, Emerald followed suit.
The two Huntresses sank to the bottom and sat cross-legged to face each other, exchanging bubbly little grins and curious glances that seemed to goad each other on. Emerald retrieved the stone she'd used earlier and pulled it into her lap to weigh her down, while Blake clung to an old log that had become part of the lakebed. Neither of them bothered counting the seconds as they ticked by; Emerald's mental focus was taken up by studying her opponent, certain that she was being studied in turn.
As the seconds crawled at a snail's pace, the former thief found multiple small details that told her Blake was a veteran swimmer like herself. No puffed cheeks, which meant she knew that air belonged in her lungs and not her mouth. No hesitation in opening her eyes, which meant she was quite comfortable even in muddy water like this. She even folded her cat-like ears over the openings to keep water out of her sensitive ear canals, just like a real feline. And the lack of unnecessary movements or sudden bursts of bubbles on her part meant that she wouldn't feel the urge to breathe anytime soon…which Emerald found both disparaging and intriguing, pushing herself past the point of discomfort to match her unlikely ally.
Time passed. Short-cropped hair of black and green flowed in the water. Small orbs of air pushed reflexively past the lips of both girls. Emerald felt her chest tighten and her throat twitch as the seconds dragged into minutes, but she took pleasure in seeing Blake's bare midriff quiver and contract as well. Though the feline Faunus gave a confident smile with her pursed lips and taut face, it didn't completely mask the fact that she was running out of air. A fresh breath was waiting for both of them as soon as they decided to surface, but pride and a healthy competitive spirit kept them both glued to the bottom of the lake…
"Blugh!"
"Gluh!"
…until a torrent of bubbles from both girls forced them to ascend at the same time.
The once-calm jungle night was filled with an unholy chorus of gasps, coughs, sputters, and groans as the Huntresses surfaced simultaneously, before Blake finally found her voice.
"Hah...not bad at all," she panted with a soft laugh, shaking the water out of her ears. "Been a while since someone was able to match me like that. Hard to believe you're packing lungs that huge in a figure as slim as yours - and I mean that in the best possible way."
Heat rose to Emerald's cheeks once again at the compliment. Gods, was she really this starved for female companionship that she'd melt around any girl? She shook her head to clear it, then grinned a mischievous grin. "You're not too bad yourself, Belladonna. And here I thought cats hated water."
Blake giggled. "You kidding me? I love swimming." A wistful smile spread across her lips. "I practically grew up on the beaches of Kuo Kuana; Mom and I used to go spearfishing and cliff diving all the time, and on weekends I'd plunge into the sea to visit the Reef District and the piscine Faunus who live down there. Dad used to joke that the gods mixed up my animal trait when I was born - clearly, I acted like I had gills and fins instead of night vision and cat ears."
"Sounds like paradise," said Emerald with another soft chuckle. "Must've been nice, living like that…one happy family, accepted by everyone…"
"I'm guessing your childhood wasn't like that?"
She shook her head. "Nope. Grew up on the streets of Haven with no parents, either begging for spent Lien cards or scrounging for food. The city had a lot of canals and waterways that were perfect for dodging police, as well as lots of flooded tunnels that cops aren't paid enough to explore. Had to teach myself how to swim just to survive…guess I came to associate water with safety and security."
The Faunus girl's ears drooped. "…oh. Sorry to hear that."
"It is what it is," said Emerald with a shrug. "We've all gotta start somewhere, right?"
Blake nodded. "No shame in where you came from, especially not with where you're going…or who you're becoming."
The former thief scoffed. "Please. You get that from a trashy romance novel?"
"Hey, Ninjas of Love is not trash." Now the ears perked back up. "It's a genre-defying epic that spans four time periods and three interconnected love stories, all culminating in an explosive and passionate finale."
"My point still stands."
"So does mine."
Emerald pouted slightly, busying herself with making little whirlpools in the pond with her finger. "I suppose the other Le-Matoran have been telling you all about how I tried filling in for Turaga Matau. How brave and cool and smart I was. How…heroic, I was." She scoffed again. "Vicious rumors, I assure you."
"Really?" The feline Faunus gave a sly smirk. "Well, you must've really pulled the wool over their eyes, cause they all adore you. Kongu, Tamaru, Radka, Penny - all of them have nothing but good things to say about your leadership."
"Of course they do," she groaned and rolled her eyes. "And of course they think that. That doesn't mean anything - it could've been anyone leading them. Could have been you, could have been Penny…hell, if an archive mole started squeaking out orders while half their village was missing, they'd probably put that stupid little rat on a pedestal too. It's what people who get saved do. What people who get blinded by their heroes do. They idolize her. They worship her. They look past every single time she screwed up…they ignore every bad call she made that almost got them killed…they delude themselves into thinking that their savior is perfect in every way and cares about them. And they'll only wake up and smell the ashes when someone who actually gives a damn about them, someone who was really looking out for them all along and they were too blind to see it, ends up sacrificing himself just so their stupid ass can keep living and breathing and making mistakes…"
Blake's smile fell. "…we're not talking about the Le-Matoran anymore, are we?" It was a rhetorical question, one they both knew the answer to.
Emerald felt the weight of the sullen silence that settled between them. She sighed and cursed under her breath, berating herself for letting her bitterness ruin yet another pleasant evening. Dammit. Why couldn't she let go of Hazel? Why couldn't she let go of that fire-spewing fanatic?
Why couldn't she let go of this feeling that threatened to strangle her heart like a barbed wire bandage?
"…sorry," she mumbled, face sinking into the water to avoid talking. "Forget I said anything…"
The raven-haired Huntress shook her head and swam forward, taking her hands in her own and rubbing the palms softly with her thumbs. She blew bubbles dejectedly for a moment to avoid making eye contact, before eventually casting her crimson gaze upwards without raising the rest of her face. When she did, she found a pair of bright and sensitive amber eyes staring back, nearly cutting through the darkness with their own reflective glow. It would have been intimidating if they belonged to a Muaka or an ash bear, yet somehow Emerald felt nothing but warmth when she stared into their depths.
"You are not Cinder Fall, Emerald." Blake's voice was soft and gentle, yet firm in its convictions. "She only 'rescued' people so that she could use them. You protected the Le-Matoran because it was the right thing to do. You saw a need and stepped up to fill it, whereas Cinder would have seen it as an opportunity to grow her fanclub. There's a difference there - one is inherently selfish, the other is entirely selfless. I don't think you need me to point out which is which…and which one you were doing."
It wasn't a hard guess, but she still wasn't strong enough to admit the truth. Tears formed in Emerald's eyes, and she desperately tried to blink them back. "And what…" she burbled, finally pulling her mouth back above the surface. "What makes you think that they're any different? What if I was, on some level, just doing it for the wrong reasons? My moral compass is screwed six ways to Sunday, Blake - I have no idea what being a good, noble Huntress like you and the rest of your friends even means. I never went to a Huntsman academy. I never had parents who taught me right from wrong. All I've ever had were my own two feet, a Semblance that lets me rob people blind, and a raging power-hungry narcissist who wouldn't know virtue if it walked up to her and slapped her in the face! How do you know that I'm doing the right thing, when even I don't?!"
"Because I know what you're going through," she answered, unwavering even in the face of her outburst. "I know what it feels like to be under the thumb of someone who hurt you, manipulated you, and kept you around for their own personal gain. For you, that person's name was Cinder Fall; for me, his name was Adam Taurus. They'll tempt you to stay by showing flashes of a good side that never existed. They'll rule your life with fear and tell you constantly that you'd be nothing without them. And when you finally break away from them and find yourself lost and adrift like you are right now, it feels like they might be right. But the truth is that you can be everything and anything, now that you're free. You don't have to do what others want anymore - not what Cinder wants, not what Lewa wants, not even what I want. Now you're able to do what you want. You have that power now."
The former thief was quiet for a moment, crimson eyes staring into patient, understanding amber. How had she forgotten that Blake once walked the same path that she now traveled, that she was once a slave to a twisted definition of love that compelled her to do awful things? Yet here she was now, confident in her wisdom and gentle in her words, fighting for a better world no matter how difficult the battle was.
If Blake could rise above her shameful, shadowy past…then maybe Emerald could, too.
And with that realization, she finally sprung a leak.
Emerald whimpered softly as her head fell forward, burying her face into Blake's soft, warm shoulder. Instead of shushing her or backing away, the feline Faunus pulled her arms out of the water and embraced her, holding her close as she cried. Against her better judgment she returned the hug, clinging tightly to the young woman as a week's worth of stress and over a decade of trauma came tumbling out through her eyes, rivers running down her face as her chest heaved and her ears burned.
"There we go," she said softly, rocking her ally back and forth in the water. "Go on, let it all out. I'm not going anywhere."
And so she did.
When the well of tears finally ran dry after a few minutes - or was it a few hours? - the former thief sniffled as she let out a long, tired sigh. Her nose was runny and her head was aching, but the cold lake water would help with both of those. She lingered in the shadowy Huntress's embrace for a little longer, drinking in the warmth as she realized just how touch-starved she really was.
"Thank you…" Emerald wiped her eyes as she finally withdrew, splashing water on her face to clean herself up somewhat.
"Of course," said Blake softly, keeping her hands on her shoulders and tracing small circles against her skin with a gentle pair of thumbs. "It's not an easy path, the one you're on…I had people who helped make it smoother when I walked it, so now I want to do the same with you. And the path of redemption starts with one simple question, one that only you can answer. What do you want?"
That…was a very good question. The immediate thought that popped up was that she wanted to get off the island of Mata Nui, to get back to a world where she was surrounded by Dust and pretty girls and food that didn't taste like metal. But what then? What would she do once she returned to Remnant? Would she join Team RWBY and their allies in their fight against Salem? Or would she strike out on her own, wandering the Kingdoms and doing her best to survive even as she knew the world was crumbling around her? Would she find acceptance in either scenario? Blake and her team seemed to accept her readily enough, but what about their other friends? What about Penny, who clearly still had some kind of trauma about her first death being a byproduct of the thief's Semblance? What about Jaune and Nora and Ren, who'd lost their fourth teammate to a plan she helped make? There was blood on her hands, lives she'd taken both directly and indirectly…could someone like that really fight for the future of Remnant?
Then again…one of their biggest allies was the soul of a magical, enigmatic man who'd lived a thousand lifetimes, who was currently living rent-free in the head of a fourteen-year-old farm boy. So maybe it wasn't quite so black and white.
"I'm…still not entirely sure what I want," admitted Emerald with a slow sigh. "At least, I'm not sure what I'm looking for in the long run." She still gave an encouraging smile to her disparaged-looking friend. "What I do know is that right now, all I want to do is go for a swim, make out with a pretty girl, and forget I ever used to worship that fire-spewing bitch."
Blake's smirk returned with renewed confidence. "I think that can be arranged, although I'll have to take a rain check on the kissing. Yang might get jealous…or upset that we didn't invite her."
Emerald scoffed and chuckled, making a show of once more rolling her eyes. "Oh, jeez, did you think I meant you? Sorry, but you're not my type. I'm more of a dog person than a cat lady - glub!"
Her teasing remark was cut off in a cloud of bubbles as Blake suddenly and swiftly dunked her underwater with a single push. She clawed her way back up with a muted grunt, surfacing and gasping just in time to watch Blake swim away with a devious giggle. Shaking her head and scoffing in disbelief, Emerald darted forward and grabbed the fleeing Faunus's ankle as she dived back down, pulling Blake to the bottom with her and grabbing her shoulders to playfully pin her down against the mud. Her unlikely friend just slipped out of her grip with a pulse of her Semblance, reversing the hold with a bubbly laugh that echoed like bells through the water.
And despite how much it hurt or how dumb it was to waste air, Emerald laughed right along with her as they roughhoused in the depths of the lake.
As the candles for the fallen burned down to the wicks, as the cheers of celebrations slowly quieted outside his hut, Turaga Vakama sat in contemplative silence.
The day's events had given him a great deal to ponder, events that extended beyond the walls of Ta-Koro. A great many of them were troublesome, to say the least; not only had his village been besieged by a sudden swarm of Rahi, the very earth itself had opened up to allow the Kanohi Dragon itself a chance to rampage. A number of noble, brave Guardsmen now lay within the soft soil of Mangai, their masks hanging in a corner of the Turaga's hut to remind him of every villager he'd failed to protect. And the fact that Le-Koro had fallen days earlier, with absolutely none of the other villages aware of the darkness that engulfed their ally, was especially concerning. It was a reminder of the tenuous, fragile existence that the Matoran had managed to carve out for themselves, a bitter reminder that they were not welcome in a land such as this.
And yet…not everything was lost. The assault on Ta-Koro had been repelled by valiant defenders, first by the burning spirits of Jaller and his Guard and then by the combined powers of three separate Toa fighting in Unity for the first time. Then the Kanohi Dragon had been felled by another unlikely alliance, weakened and brought down by the very landscape of Mata Nui in a clever (if risky) gambit that had succeeded. And not only had the people of Le-Koro found liberation from Makuta's scheme with the aid of a newly-christened Chronicler, but Lewa himself - who had spent the last few days as a puppet of the enemy, much to Vakama's shock - had been saved by his brother and returned to the light of Mata Nui.
It was certainly an example of how far the Toa had come, and how powerful they had grown…but Vakama doubted that any such victories would have been possible were it not for the Huntresses at their side.
Vakama cast his gaze at the odd shapes that he'd carved into a stone tablet hanging from the wall, each one sitting alongside a circle bearing the elemental sigil of a Toa. In between sessions of showing off her strength to awed Ta-Matoran, Yang had visited his hut several times that evening to tell the village elder a little more about how warriors lived on Remnant. How their world was (usually) divided into four kingdoms with mighty capitals housing thousands of people, each equipped with an academy that trained future generations of Huntsmen and Huntresses like herself and her friends. How self-expression was a key aspect of every facet of their lives, to the point that even their names were based on colors and steeped in symbolism. How each student constructs their own weapon at a young age, how they form into teams and grow closer with their partners, and how a great deal of their youth is spent learning how to fight the shadowy monsters that roam beyond the walls of their cities and villages. She'd also explained that the strange, unfamiliar symbols he now stared at were, in fact, their emblems - the personal marks of anyone brave and strong enough to fight the Creatures of Grimm.
If he hadn't seen them in action with his own eyes, he wasn't sure he would have been able to believe it.
As if he needed more proof of their victory, his eyes fell on a piece of the Kanohi Dragon - a metal fang as big as his forearm, with a sharpened tip that was capable of cutting through just about anything with a glancing blow. To the girls, it was a trophy won in battle, a grisly prize snatched from the jaws of a powerful enemy. But to Vakama, it was so much more. It was evidence that four Huntresses and two Toa had slain one of the mightiest beasts to ever exist, a monster that once took several teams of elemental warriors to merely pacify and drive off. Even if it somehow wasn't the same Rahi as the one that haunted Vakama's memory, the implications would not have changed. Makuta had brought forth the flaming sky serpent as a warning to the people of Mata Nui; in return, the Huntresses had sent a message of their own back to the Master of Shadows.
We will not die here.
At first glance, there was no way that the human warriors should have been as strong as they actually were. They were entirely organic with no natural armor or elemental powers like the Toa, and they didn't wear Kanohi Masks to further augment their abilities. While they had Aura and Dust and Semblances and weapons of their own, those were all fueled by finite resources that required careful management in battle; without them, they were vulnerable and easily damaged by even the grazing blow of a Rahi. Yet despite these disadvantages they proved time and again that they were resourceful, determined, coordinated, and surprisingly durable. Their mastery of their own tactics and technology helped make up for the lack of powers and abilities that even Toa often took for granted. And even though two of them came from less-than-noble backgrounds, they still found themselves drawn towards doing the right thing solely thanks to the influence of the others. Ruby's hopeful optimism, Weiss's quiet confidence, Blake's calming presence, Yang's unyielding courage, Penny's pure and innocent charm…the dedication and drive of those five in particular inspired not just each other, but the Matoran as well - after a thousand years of technological and cultural stagnation, the strange humans from another world had brought something that even Vakama struggled to impart on his people.
Hope.
Yet even after everything they had done, the Huntresses had asked for almost nothing in return. True, they aided the Toa in their quest in the hopes that doing so would bring them home, but the Turaga felt in his heartstone that this was far from the only reason they kept moving forward. He was certain that even if defeating Makuta yielded no path back to Remnant, even if they found themselves forever trapped in an unfamiliar world…it would change nothing. They would still fight for the Matoran. They would still protect those in need. They would still do the right thing, even at great cost to themselves.
Vakama refused to let such generosity go unrewarded. The Huntresses had done so much for the people of Mata Nui; now it was time to return the favor.
With his mind made up and an idea bubbling within his imagination, he rose to his feet and hobbled over to a dusty, long-unused forge. The Turaga set the recovered fang into the ingot slot, twisted ancient dials and flipped switches locked in place from disuse, and lit the stone-cold fuel with the tip of his firestaff. The furnace groaned in protest at being fired up for the first time in centuries, but tools such as this were built to last hundreds of millennia, and he was certain it would operate without issue. While he waited for the alloys within the dragon's tooth to soften and liquify, he opened his chest and retrieved the familiar implements of the humble mask-maker he once was. A hammer with a heavy head fit for flattening and shaping soft steel, a set of tongs for extruding and handling molten metal, and a smaller, shorter firestaff that was perfect for welding and cutting protodermis. They would serve him once more as he toiled through the night, as he forged protosteel into new forms for the Huntresses who had already given so much for his people.
Once, a lifetime ago, he had created a legendary Kanohi Mask of Power using the fused energies and metals of six very special, very pure disks.
But as his furnace burned and his tools pounded against melting steel, Turaga Vakama considered these pieces to be his greatest works yet.
Moonlight shone through the darkened treetops as Lewa stomped across the jungle floor, swinging his axe and leaving gashes in the bark just to give his hands something to do. He didn't usually walk on the ground level among the roots and bushes - he preferred to be soaring among the tops of the trees, swinging swiftly from vines and leaping acrobatically between branches. But even doing so at top speed had failed to clear his head and lift his spirits, so he figured that going slow for once would be a nice change of pace. It wasn't. He still felt miserable and angry and grumpy - the only thing that had changed was how fast he was going.
Needless to say, although the taint of Makuta was removed, shadows still plagued his soul.
A thousand emotions all raced through his mind like rushing winds as he reflected on the ordeal, and he couldn't control or stop feeling any of them. Guilt over letting his people down. Shame for hurting Emerald and Blake. Embarrassment at needing Toa Onua to bail him out. Sorrow at seeing how some of his own villagers still looked up at him in fear. But most of all, he just felt angry. Angry at Makuta for making him into his puppet. Angry at the Rahi for kidnapping the Le-Matoran. Angry at Matau for giving him advice he didn't want to hear. And above all else, angry at himself for being stupid enough to let all this happen in the first place.
His brooding march took him to a small clearing, where a deep but slow-moving river cut through a patch of grass and soft mud. Lewa sighed and took a seat on a fallen log, narrowing his eyes as he stared into the body of water that flowed in front of his feet. The surface was so still and calm that he could see himself in its reflection…which was the last thing he wanted right now. He dragged his axe through the river and watched his image scatter in the ripples, only to reform a moment later against his wishes.
The worst part of being under Makuta's control wasn't the fact that he'd done awful things against his own will. The worst part was that he - now fully in control and aware of everything - now had to deal with the consequences. Everything that happened before, during, and after his time with the infected mask needed to be discussed and addressed, and right now he didn't feel like doing any of those things. Matau had already given him a stern lecture about how he should have heeded his warnings. The other Toa must have already heard the news by now, and likely had some choice words and questions of their own. And he knew he needed to talk to Emerald at some point…more than anyone else, she deserved closure on this issue, especially given her treatment at Cinder's hands and how she'd nearly died to his.
And yet…running away from all of those conversations seemed a lot easier than actually having them.
A set of heavy set footfalls from his side of the river was a reminder that he couldn't run forever.
"Have you come to shout-yell at me too, brother?" Lewa glowered over his shoulder as he rose from his seat. "I already feel plenty-bad about being a Makuta-puppet, you can save the harsh-words."
Onua's gaze and stance were patient and relaxed during his approach. "You have no need to fear them from me," he rumbled. "I am not Tahu, nor do I wish to emulate his temper. I hold no ill will towards you for our battle, as I know that your actions under the Makuta's shadow were not your own. Your people understand that. Emerald understands that. And the other Toa will understand that, when we explain it to them."
The Toa of Air blinked several times in surprise at just how…understanding and soft-spoken his brother was. Then again, Onua always seemed like the thoughtful, patient sort of person - a little too patient and thoughtful for Lewa's tastes, but that might not be a bad thing in this case. Maybe this talk wouldn't be so bad, after all, if his brother kept saying things he wanted to hear.
"…that having been said, I must understand one thing."
And there it was.
"How did this come to pass?" Glowing eyes shone through the darkness like polished emeralds catching sunlight, focusing solely on the guilty green warrior. "How was Makuta able to exert control over your mind? How did he get a chance to enslave you like a common Rahi? I know that you are a fierce warrior, and that you possess a tenacious mind and limitless energy. I struggle to understand how one such as you could be bested in such a way."
He didn't have the nerve to face his brother any longer, merely looking down at his feet with his back turned towards the other Toa. "Believe me, it didn't happen by self-choice. I was caught in a vulnerable state when the Rahi launched a sneak-raid on the village, and they began abducting the - "
"You misunderstand the question," said the Toa of Earth with a shake of his head. "I know the details of the attack from speaking with Emerald and Turaga Matau, as well as others who were imprisoned. I apologize for not knowing the dangers sooner - had the attack happened closer to the ground, I surely would have sensed it as I did when the Rahi converged on Tahu's village. What I wish to know is this: in the face of such danger, why did you not seek us out as you were instructed? The people of Le-Koro - your people - asked for the aid of all six Toa in a language you plainly understood. Why did you ignore that part of the request, and arrive with only Emerald at your side? It took three Toa working together to defend Ta-Koro from an all-out assault earlier today, as well as an alliance between Tahu, Kopaka, and four Huntresses to fell the mighty Kanohi Dragon. Surely nothing less would have been needed to repel a swarm of similar size. So why charge in alone?"
Lewa felt the tension in his joints suddenly spike. "I…don't know…"
It wasn't a complete lie.
"This is not the first time you have foolishly disregarded the notion of seeking the other Toa," continued Onua pointedly. "You resisted when Matau commanded it. You fought when Gali and Tahu proposed it. You grew angry with Emerald each time she suggested it. And yet even now, after gaining your freedom at the hands of trusted allies, you still isolate yourself and drive away those who care about you. This is a pattern of behavior that I find…extremely concerning. Why continue it?"
The Toa of Air narrowed his eyes in annoyance. "I. Don't. Know."
"If you do not know, then why do you keep doing it?" His brother's voice still rumbled like the earth itself, but now there was a small pleading edge to his words. "Why do you continue to push us away, Lewa? Why do you reject Unity in favor of only Duty and Destiny? Are we truly that much of a burden to you? Do you find us that abhorrent? Is your pride so fragile that living in service of the Makuta would be preferable to - "
"SHUT UP! I said I don't know!"
He whirled on the spot and glared daggers at his fellow Toa, tightening his grip on his axe. Protodermis boiled within his organic parts, his gearbox clicked and whirred in anger, and the urge to run away kept entering his mind. Ordinarily, he'd indulge in that and escape into the trees, but not this time. This time, his brother was going to get a piece of his mind.
"What was I supposed to do, earth-mover?!" snapped Lewa as he took angry, marching steps closer. "Let those bug-flyers snatch my people and carry-steal them away while I wander the woods? Go on an adventure of self-discovery while my Matoran suffered in that dark-place? My sprout-leaf had no means of contacting her friends, and there was no easy way to seek-find any of you on this stupidly huge island! Even with the Mask of Speed, there would have been no guarantee I'd run into anyone if I went blind-looking! There was no time!"
"So it was a matter of urgency, then," Onua said sharply with a nod. "Understandable. But this was an emergency and an isolated incident, whereas your attitude has persisted long before the attack itself. If circumstances were different, if you had the time and the ability to seek us out…would you still have rushed in alone, as you did in this case?"
"Of course I would have!" The Toa of Air swung his arm for emphasis as his rage continued to build like pressure under his joints. "I would have done the same for any attack, be it against one Rama-swarmer or a thousand! I am their Toa-hero, their wind-spirit, and they are my people - my Duty is to them and their safety!"
"Your Duty is to gather the masks and work with us to defeat the Makuta," countered the Toa of Earth with a harsh glare. "The Matoran rely on us for emergencies, yes, but they have endured for a thousand years without us. They are not as weak and helpless as you believe them to be - and even they know that strength comes from standing in Unity, isolated as they are. Have faith in them, brother, as they have faith in you."
"They deserve more than just faith!" spat Lewa, his frustration reaching a boiling point. "They deserve an invincible Toa-hero that can rescue-save them from any danger, and who can beat any Rahi-beast that dares touch their masks! I didn't exactly see anyone else volunteering - Tahu is too hot-tempered, Kopaka is too cold-hearted, Gali is too soft-spirited, Pohatu is too stone-headed, and you are too slow-footed! So it might as well be me safe-guarding the Matoran, if no one else will! How can I call myself their protector if I don't prove that I'm strong enough to protect them alone? How can I prove I'm ready to vanquish against Makuta if I cannot fight-win my own battles? And how can I save Mata Nui if I cannot even save my own people?!"
A cold silence settled between them. His shoulders trembled and his throat burned, but he kept glaring at his brother all the same while waiting for his response. Onua barely even flinched in response to the outburst - in fact, his only real reaction was to tilt his head to one side and look back at him pointedly.
"…I see," he rumbled. "Then answer me this, brother. Did you save them in their darkest hour, either today or three days ago? Were you, as you said, strong enough to protect them on your own? Or did you, when all was said and done, need the aid of others to fix your mistake? And do you truly feel that you are ready to vanquish Makuta in your current state?"
Lewa sputtered as his strongest argument fell to pieces. "That's not - I - you - RAUGH!"
The Toa of Air let out a strangled cry and swung his axe in a blind rage, felling three long-standing trees in one windy slash. Taku birds and archive moles scattered into the night with terrified cries and chirps, which made Lewa's boiling protodermis run cold as he realized his own destructive action. His anger spent and replaced with sorrow, he turned and sank to his knees by the side of the river and hung his head in shame. He stared down at the reflection of his emerald-green Miru once again…and he froze when he thought he saw the infected Kanohi staring back at him for a fraction of a second.
But it wasn't the rage of Makuta driving his thoughts and actions this time.
It was entirely his own.
…what am I doing? he thought sullenly. Have I really learned nothing from this entire ordeal? Have I been so lost in my own deep-shame and dark-thoughts that I've ignored those trying to help me? My fool-pride is what got me into the shadow-claws of Makuta in the first place, and since then I've done nothing but double down on what little faith I still have in my own-self. What kind of Toa am I, if I can't even face those I've hurt? What kind of savior abandons his tree-folk after one quick check after their rescue? What kind of friend leaves his beloved sprout-leaf to waste away in her own pain? Can I still call myself Toa Lewa, even after fail-crashing so hard?
Lewa's mind reeled as the spiral of thoughts kept pouring down like the rain during monsoon season. Was I the one who poisoned the Unity of my fellow Toa-heroes? Is our Duty impossible to complete with us fractured and up-split like this? Have we…
His heartstone sank under the weight of his folly.
…have we already failed to fulfill our Destiny, because of me?
A frustrated, exhausted sigh escaped his throat. He stared mournfully at a mask that no longer felt like his. If he were a human like Emerald, he might have cried. Part of him wished he could.
"I…I am truly sorry for everything, brother," Lewa finally admitted quietly. "Being a Toa is…a much heavier burden than I thought it would be."
"It was never one we were meant to carry alone."
A metallic claw rested on his shoulder as a coal-black Pakari joined his own mask in the river's reflection. Onua sat next to him, crossing his legs and resting his hands on his ankles before closing his glowing green eyes. Despite the shame rising in his chest, Lewa stowed his axe and mirrored the meditative position as best he could, following the example of the other Toa. Oddly enough, a sense of peace and comfort started to wash over him as he did so, giving him the relief he'd tried so hard to find with his usual coping mechanisms.
Perhaps his fellow warriors did have some lessons worth learning, after all.
Lessons that he, a humbled and humiliated Toa, a sadder and (slightly) wiser Toa, might now try to learn.
And so for the rest of the night, beneath the fading moonlight of Mata Nui, the brothers of earth and sky sat together in silent understanding.
(A/N): If there's one complaint I have about the 2001 Bionicle storyline, it's that I desperately wish we could have seen some kind of fallout for Lewa after getting his infected mask removed. How would the other Toa react to the news? Would they treat him any differently? What would he and Onua in particular talk about after the ordeal, and would it be the start of their friendship? There is so much fertile ground for exploration of emotions and themes, but almost none of it is explored in any of the canon story elements. Granted, it was the first year of Bionicle so things were a little rough story-wise, and we didn't have multiple novels per year at that point like we did for later years, but the fact that Lewa seemingly goes right back to his usual happy-go-lucky self after his (first) bout of brainwashing feels a little disingenuous.
But hey, that's one of the advantages of writing your own Bionicle fanfic more than a decade after the series ended - you don't have to put out promotional vignettes with these characters to sell toys, you can really get into their minds and add allllll the angst you could ever want.
Anyways! Thanks for tuning into another character-focused chapter for Destiny's Divide! Next week's update is one that I'm extremely proud of, and one that I hope you'll enjoy just as much as this one! (Oh, and if there's any White Rose fans reading...let's just say I think you're gonna love it.) See you then!