Hey y'all! Got another little thingy for you! It's been hard to work on writing between school, cross country, and homework, but I managed to write this out in bursts of thirty minutes or less for a week or two...which doesn't make all that much sense bc it's kinda short, lol. Definitely not my usual focus but I'm happy with how it turned out, even if it became something entirely different from what I had been expecting lol. I don't control my stories, my stories control me. I am but a mere vessel to put them out there.
CRUNCH
He ran his fingers across the dried, delicate, papery wing subtly ridged surface of the tannish, beige-ish seed. Brittle, but not hard. At least, not until the curve of the wing shape ran into the small, slightly darker part, shriveled and a little harder than normal from being dried out. A samara, a seed that twirled when it was dropped.
Before he left, he heard of some people discussing whether to call them helicopter seeds, after the mode of transportation becoming more and more widely used over at the distant Ninjago City, or not. He kind of liked calling it a helicopter seed. "Samara" was pretty but "helicopter seed" seemed more…playful, like the seed's dance in the wind when it fell. He was pretty sure Wu preferred "samara" though.
Wu was kind of like that.
CRUNCH
He ripped the seed away from the wing as his fingers started to shake at the thought of Wu, that faint sound breaking the silence but not the tension in his muscles and especially not that knot his stomach had painfully twisted into. He uncurled his fists, wincing at the marks his fingernails had left and letting the pieces fall from his hand to the ground and to the growing piles around and on his legs—another casualty.
And another.
And another.
And yet another.
He never used to do this. He loved watching them fall and twirl and dance like a squealing child that just received their dream toy, the wind its graceful partner, like a professional teaching an inexperienced friend for fun. Even as a child, he loved seeing where the wind would take its new dancing partner, never repeating the same routine. Not once. That's what made it so mesmerizing, so appealing. It was always something new, something new and improvised and unpredictable. You never knew if it was going to dip its partner or swirl them around into a little tornado. He always picked the helicopter seeds to drop them. He never used to just tear the seeds away from the wings.
Then again, there were a lot of things Morro never used to do, but he was doing them now. He had changed. He wasn't the same frightened, scarred, starving little boy Wu took off the streets for a night, offering to house and teach him after Morro accidentally used his wind powers. He had changed, and not just on the inside.
When he passed lakes or rivers or even muddy puddles, he was always surprised by the face that stared back at him, the sharper, angular face that had emerged when he finally lost that baby fat and the long, regretfully greasy mop of raven black hair with that singular strand of green. If only he could wash that strand of green out. Although dirt clung to his skin, he knew it had become a healthy tan, a sharp contrast from the sickly pale he had had back at the Monastery, and muscles bulged like trying to stick one last little thing into an already-full backpack. He was lucky to be able to scavenge enough food to support them, lucky enough to support them and his sudden spurt in height, his once-embarrassing height became a lot more acceptable. With winter fast approaching, however, he wasn't sure what to do about food then.
At least old habits, habits from before the Monastery, fell back into place, making finding food and places to sleep and navigating a whole lot easier. The habits from the Monastery faded for the most part. All the better. The fewer reminders of the life he could never go back to unless he proved he was the Green Ninja, the better.
Because how was he supposed to survive with the customs of a comfortable life opposite to the poverty he had lived in before Wu took him in? How was he supposed to push himself forward by thinking of the man who wanted the Green Ninja to be his son more than a random child off the streets, more than him?
And yet, despite knowing that it would halt any and all progress for the rest of the day, he couldn't stop himself from sitting down in a copse of maple as the weather cooled and the plants began to emerge in their flashy, colorful dresses before falling asleep for the winter. He could keep himself from holding one seed up and letting it fall.
They did that together all the time, or at least, they used to.
They took out thermoses of hot chocolate or apple cider, packed baskets with goodies that filled their nostrils with the scents of autumn—cinnamon and apple and pecans and vanilla and caramel and nutmeg—and took blankets in addition to the red-checkered one they used for picnics. Then they found a nice little grove of trees far away from the many villages around the Monastery, picking samaras up and dropping them or flinging handfuls of dried leaves at each other as they waited for the stars to come out.
Both his families did that, although the specifics differed a little.
Both his families, the one that left after one of them died and the one he still didn't quite fit into. How was he supposed to? Wu was the son of the First Spinjitzu Master and the brother of Garmadon, a man who was growing increasingly infamous in the far reaches of the land.
Still, Morro had thought Wu was different. Wu hadn't despised that the wrong child had survived when the plague should have taken him, him, him. Wu wasn't like Morro's parents. Wu was different. Morro had thought he was different.
But what if all those happy times were simply a means to the end of "Lord" Garmadon (as Wu's brother was increasingly becoming known as)? What if Wu only cared because of Morro's powers since he had thought that they meant Morro was destined to be the Green Ninja?
No, Morro was the Green Ninja, Wu had believed it, he just forgot Morro hadn't reached his True Potential yet. That was why Morro could only control the wind. Because he hadn't achieved his True Potential. But he planned to. That was what all this was for, running away from the Monastery, searching for the First Spinjitzu Master's tomb. He knew this quest would be exactly how he would reach his True Potential: find the lost tomb and prove you're clever and strong enough to succeed in something thought impossible. That was who the Green Ninja was, a person who did the impossible.
Then and only then could Morro return to the Monastery.
He had seen the way Wu's eyes gleamed as the young Master spoke of the legend of the Green Ninja, how the Green Ninja would heal the divide in Wu's family, how proud he was to have a student perfect for the role.
Morro gripped another helicopter seed tightly as the memory of the word "student" hung cold and distant in his mind, no different than Wu's relationship with the rest of the Monastery's trainees, as if they shared nothing special. He waited, just for a second for something in the past-Wu's eyes to tell him that he used a certain tone, a good tone, that he reserved just for Morro, but it didn't happen. It never did. The helicopter seed fell from his first, completely crushed.
He recalled that day perfectly.
The pesto tortellini Wu insisted that Morro try, the clink of utensils, the exchange of the day's events (Morro had put that snobby trainee Luke Malfoy in his place during sparring practice), Wu bringing up the possibility…
He remembered wanting to be the reason why Wu lit up like that, wanting to heal that divide and the pain it caused across Ninjago, wanting to do anything to hear that word, to be called that name by the one man he was convinced actually cared for him.
If he was the Green Ninja, Wu would be proud enough to finally call him "son." If he was the Green Ninja, he'd be more than the wrong survivor, more than the unwanted street rat. People would think he was strong and they would care. But most importantly, he would be Wu's son.
He'd do anything for that.
Anything?
Morro tried his best to stifle the gasp rising in him as he wildly looked around for who said that, his hand twitching to the sword that lay next to his left leg, but he couldn't escape the effect the voice had on him.
The voice, girlish and sweet and musical, yet powerful and assertive despite the fact that it was asking a question, broke the barrier he had been trying to hold back. He could have sworn it was the most amazing, beautiful voice he had ever heard but didn't that belong to his sister?
"Hey M! Watch this!" his sister giggled as she picked up a seed and dropped it, pointing as it twirled to the ground.
And then a year after…
"C'mon, Mom! Dad! We never go! It's Morro's birthday! He loves the samaras!" his sister begged their parents.
And when she managed to drag them all out of the house and to the grove they always went to…
"Stop being a slow poke M! We're missing all the fun!"
Everything that reminded him of his sister flashed before his eyes, now stinging and becoming glassy, only letting him emerge what felt like hours later.
That was when the voice came back again.
Morro? Are you OK?
The voice, if it wasn't a hallucination which he wasn't discounting just yet, cared if he was OK? The only other people who had cared for him were Wu and Morro's sister, and his sister was dead.
That silly Wu only cares for the Green Ninja and you're not powerful enough. Not yet. He doesn't want to make you more powerful, though. He believes you either are or you aren't. To him, there is no in-between, but I, I can make you powerful. I can help you become the Green Ninja, Morro because you are the Green Ninja. I can help, Morro.
"Help? His voice was hoarse from disuse, gruff, almost foreign. It threw him off-balance for a second before he began to wonder at what the voice said.
Was it really real?
I am.
"Are you going to just answer all the questions I think of before I say them aloud?" he growled before remembering what the voice was offering, horror growing like a weed as he stammered to apologize for his rudeness. Why was that becoming so much harder to avoid, snapping at people or being sarcastic or saying things he shouldn't?
Do not fret, my boy. You are but a child. I expect to occasionally receive attitude, although you would do best to avoid it with me—I am practically royalty, after all—if I am to take you under my wings. With anyone else, I don't care.
"Why would you help me? And how do I know that this isn't a trick?"
Why would I lie to you, Morro? As for why I would help you, I've seen what you can do. You just need guidance. If that Wu will only mislead you, then I won't stand for his insolence! You are the Green Ninja and the Dark Lord must be stopped! After all, someone like me understands what true power can achieve, the voice said in a pur that reminded him of something velvety, like smooth, rich chocolate melting in his mouth.
"And then I can go home," Morro whispered. He could go home and be Wu's son. Wu wouldn't mind that Morro was taught by someone else, the young Master was always talking about how important it was to get new perspectives and how different methods worked better for different people. Morro was sure of it.
I don't see why you would want to go back. He wants the Green Ninja and he doesn't care for you enough to believe without a doubt that you are the Green Ninja. He discarded you because you didn't fit his desires. Didn't you see how he didn't try to come get you?
The voice couldn't be true, could it?
Then again, Wu cared more for the idea of the Green Ninja than the Green Ninja as a person. He cared more for an idea than for Morro. The voice couldn't be right…unless it was. His heart thudded in his chest, twisting and doing nervous somersaults as it tried to run away from the thoughts and the sick feeling that was blossoming in his stomach. He scanned the surroundings for the source of the voice once more as it curled into his mind in soft whispers, wondering if he had eaten something poisonous. Was he simply imagining the voice? He couldn't find who it belonged to. If it belonged to anyone. And yet, he found himself agreeing with it. Wu hadn't come after him. Wu had called Morro a student and only told him he was proud after he began to suspect Morro was the Green Ninja. He hadn't cared when the younger Morro suddenly got quiet, emerald eyes wide, waiting for the name he needed the same way he needed air.
Did he want to go home now? Was it really his home if that was how he was treated?
He remembered how Wu would always encourage him to improve while highlighting his strengths after a long day of training, always clapping a hand to Morro's back and saying, "You did great, Morro! And always remember—you're stronger than you know." Then the warm, swelling feeling would come, just like it always did. And it made him feel like he belonged in a family again. But now, it felt…hollow, a far-off sound in the distance. Those old feelings were just out of reach. The thought of that feeling being merely a disillusioned fantasy his mind had come up with stung and made him feel sick as if he was being punched in the stomach over and over again as people pinned his arms and legs so he couldn't fight back. His heart pounded in his chest and everything started to feel fuzzy, making it harder to think. Clutching his stomach as he started to shake, he tried to stuff everything back in; all those memories that were really lies. He couldn't believe it, but that was the truth. It was all anything with Wu ever was. Lies, lies, LIES!
A family member's blade cuts deepest, the voice said, If only you didn't have to learn that, Morro. You're only a boy carrying the weight of the world, you don't need more burden. But let me be your family. Let me be your family, your teacher, your sensei. I will help you become what you were meant to, Morro, but I need you to do exactly what I say.
"That's what Wu said," Morro told the voice.
Teachers are meant to be listened to. I can't help you to your destiny if you don't listen to me.
He nodded even though he was sure the owner of the voice couldn't see him, especially since it felt like the voice was speaking in his mind and was nowhere near him. Something told him the voice was quieter than it could have been, quiet yet assertive enough for Morro to know that the owner believed without a doubt that what she said was true and that he should believe the same.
No one left an effect quite like that on Morro—no one since his sister.
"Oh, are you scared?" she had teased, the scent of caramel and sea salt from her special shampoo filling his nose as she pulled him out of the door. The protests of their mother followed them out, demands to do the dishes, but they were left abandoned at the threshold as the two young children sprinted for the woods to play hooky.
Then, hours later when they came back smelling like smoke, with bits of leaf and twigs stuck in their hair, almost all of their exposed skin covered in dirt, she had insisted that it was all her fault, that Morro had tried to stop her even though that was a lie.
She was always doing that, leading him to trouble but keeping him out of danger, like taking the blame for both of their mischief or fighting bullies for him and teaching him the best way to escape.
The voice reminded him so much of her, his eyes glazing over as those warm days took hold of his mind as soon as he made that connection with the voice.
Maybe it really wanted to help.
"What do you want me to do?"
Instead of a verbal answer, the voice's response was a mental image of a very familiar system of old mines, nicknamed the "Caves of Despair" by the miners who had once worked there.
Going there was like a death sentence. At least, that was what Wu had told him. Then again, Wu told him a lot of things. Like how he wasn't the Green Ninja, but this here was proof that he was. The owner of the voice went out of her way to find him. He had to be something special.
The Caves of Despair had to be the world's way of testing the destined Green Ninja.
"Alright," Morro said, "I'll leave first thing in the morning."
Perfect, because getting to the heart of the mines is just the start of the challenges you will have to overcome to reach your True Potential, the voice whispered, After that, you'll need to do something, a ritual, to introduce yourself to the powers that will lend themselves to you, and I'll be right there with you. In the meantime, get some rest. You'll need it.
"Yeah, I will," he said, swiping the piles of ripped helicopter seeds away. He shoved them away with more force than he needed, sending them flying as his wind powers started to act up. They carried them away, far, far away as he watched, face flat and his mouth pressed into a thin, indifferent line.
Goodbye, Sensei, he told the phantom of Wu his mind had conjured up, as much venom as he could muster in his words. Wu didn't want to help him, he was just boosting the number of students who had trained under him. He had just been using Morro for his powers and gave up at the tiniest snag in Morro's training. Morro was just a number to him. The voice cared. After all, the voice had reached out to him. The voice had made an effort to show him the truth and he knew the voice would guide him to his True Potential.
He hadn't been so sure of something since his sister had died.
Hello, Master, he told the voice, closing his eyes and basking in the heat from the voice's pleasure.
Hope y'all enjoyed that! Not quite how I wanted it to turn out, I might honestly write that version eventually (I always say that but I rarely do that, don't I? I just have a lot of writing projects, lol, everything gets buried and 1 in 5 of my WIPs make it out, lol). Anyjay, I don't think they ever revealed what Morro did to deserve being sent to the Cursed Realm. I believe, according to Tommy Andreasen, "You need to do some travesty to become cursed." Maybe it's simply because I'm so used to big, giant things being travesties that I don't consider Morro's obsession with becoming the Green Ninja enough to risk his life in the ways he did travesty enough to warrant being cursed. Maybe that truly is why Morro was sent to the Cursed Realm, because of his obsession. Makes you wonder if for a time, because of Kai's obsession, he was slated to go to the Cursed Realm as well. Would make an interesting fic...hmmmmm...
Anyjay, I'll be disappearing again. Hopefully, I'll be able to write out another fic soon, if time allows. I am trying my best to shift my attention to planning out my novel so I've been trying to work out a schedule to work on fanfics and my original story.
Well, that's it for now! See y'all around!