Story #12: Marked by Darkness
Ninjago—post-Crystallized (AU); inspired by "Helicopter Seeds" and "Shadows of Amethyst" (both by sivinightfury)
writing prompt (modified): memory; choices vs. fate
Summary: When a blackout hits the Dojo of Spinjitzu late at night, Morro has a panic attack in which flashbacks of his banishment to the Cursed Realm come back to haunt him. Kai tries to get him to calm down by focusing on his breathing. But then Morro realizes that Kai has the scar of the Cursed Realm glowing on his chest and just barely manages to whisper, "You…have…the…mark…" before fainting dead away out of fear, torment, and shock.
The next morning, Kai is pondering what Morro could have meant and realizes that he truly does have the mark of the Cursed Realm branded into his chest. He begins to wonder if the Cursed Realm was truly destroyed, and memories of all the times he let his anger and his obsession with becoming the Green Ninja control his actions come flooding back into his mind, making him wonder if he could have reversed this by choosing differently—or if this was always his fate. Stricken with grief and guilt, he crumples to his knees and whispers apologies to Lloyd, to Nya, and to his parents under his breath as he cries his very heart out.
It started out as an ordinary night. Morro, Master Wu, and the Ninja were enjoying a wonderful movie night, eating popcorn and drinking soda pop and chattering gleefully with each other about the happenings of the day, when all of a sudden, the lights went out—and didn't come back on.
At first, the air was filled with nothing but silence and stillness and shocked surprise. Then everyone started talking all at once.
"What's going on?!"
"Why is it so dark?!"
"Why won't the lights come back on?"
"Did we just have a blackout?!"
"How did this happen?"
"How do we get the lights back on?"
"Where's the fuse box?! We gotta find the fuse box!"
"Does anyone have a flashlight?!"
Morro, however, said nothing. He was too petrified of what was happening to express himself coherently. But then, all of a sudden, a lightning bolt flashed outside, seeming to split the sky in two, its heart-shattering cry swiftly answered by a clanging roll of thunder that seemed to shake the very ground.
And that's when the darkness seemed to press all around the frightened wind-child.
He couldn't see…
He couldn't see…
He couldn't see…
Darkness. So much darkness. Darkness all around him, over him, surrounding him in misty blackness and foggy blindness…
His heartbeat was pounding, clanging like a core-shattering gong reverberating in his mind…over and over and over again…echoing, long and loud…frantically beating…like a stampede of skittish colts charging past him, trampling him…
Sickly-green mist seeping into the chamber…
World warping and distorting into a kaleidoscopic, grotesquely disfigured mass of colors…and sounds…and smells…and haziness…
Odor of copper pennies…
Smoky charcoal…
Acrid sulfur…
Black mold…the stench of a rotting carcass…
Syrupy incense…
Smoldering candle wax…
Wood smoke…
Cloves…and vanilla…
Something wasn't right. He couldn't breathe properly…he was sucking in rapid gasps of air…he was panting…
Steamy heat surrounding him…geysers boiling…
He has to find the Tomb. He has to find the Tomb.
He's the Green Ninja! He's the Green Ninja!
Can't give up…keep on going…bitter hatred and selfish ambition and blind, gripping obsession driving him forward...
Tightness gripped his chest…he didn't dare look down, for fear he'd see his scar glowing and pulsing with a sickly-green light…
Beads of sweat dotting his forehead like ladybugs on a rose branch…
Sweltering heat intertwining with frigid chills…daggers of ice were piercing his core, twisting taut…
Eyes stinging with unbidden tears…hot wetness trickling down his cheeks…soaking into his gi…
A flash of auburn…aqua-blue eyes giving way to blood-red crimson…
Cold metal slashing his chest…he let out a raw, wild, hoarse scream…
Sticky, viscous sap-like ectoplasm bleeding out of his wound…before soaking into his skin…
A scar, pulsing, glowing with a poisonous green light, peeking out from under his rags, his torn and tattered, disheveled and bedraggled rags, smudged with dirt and mud and wood smoke and ash…
Why was the world spinning?
Why did he feel so cold?
Why was he coughing so huskily and raggedly?
Why did it feel like part of him was dying…withering…shriveling away…
His heart…it felt so empty…
His core…it was fading…
He felt so hollow inside…so weak…so drained…so groggy…so languid…so listless…so lethargic…so drowsy…
Dizzy…so dizzy…lightheaded…getting very lightheaded all too fast…
Heart racing…
Almond-tone skin blanching…
Pupils dilating…
Emerald-green irises becoming glassy and dim…
Sage-green undertones flickering in and out, in and out…
Vision growing swimmy and blurry and misty…warping in and out of focus…
Hearing dulling, fogging, growing murky and muddled…
Tiredness creeping through his veins…seeping into his bones…
Numbness oozing into his joints…stilling his frazzled nerves…
No! Have to keep going! Have to keep moving!
Weakness descending upon him…he couldn't move…couldn't speak…could barely even breathe…
Staggering to his feet…feeling slightly stronger, yet still so cold…
The cold drove him…he began to run…
He tripped on a rock…tumbled down a vortex-like cavern and down a sharp, steep ridge into a dark, dismal, damp chamber…
Shower of pebbles on his head…
Have to climb back out!
He can't…too weak…too exhausted…too fatigued…
Air getting lighter, fuzzier, cozier, hazier…
Feeling so dizzy…and woozy…and dazed…
Couldn't feel his body in space…
Gravity had no influence…
Like he was caught in a bubble of pocket-space…of nothingness…and emptiness…and sheer nonexistence…
Breath growing wispy and faint and breathy and puffy…
Heartbeat sluggish…and feeble…and weary…and worn…
Pulse slowing…
Chest rising and falling deeply and evenly…
Slumber enveloping him in feigned warmth and tenderness, cloaking him in deceptive serenity and tranquility and peace…
Fingers twitching…
Shoulders twinging and stiffening…
Muscles cramping…
Breath coming faster…growing more shallow and strangled and strained and sharp by the moment…
Chest heaving erratically and arrhythmically…
Whole body trembling…convulsing…shuddering…shivering…
Frame quaking…quivering…thrashing…writhing…tossing…turning…
Silent screams and breathy shrieks tearing themselves out of his throat, inaudible, soundless, unheard…
Morro…
A voice, low and soft and soothing, beckoning to him, calling him, luring him, mesmerizing him…
Morro…
Hypnotic tones, gentle chords, a tender timbre, a clarion cadence…
Melodic and sweet, harmonious and girlish, syrupy with a slight crooning hiss…
Morro…draw near…
Goosebumps crawling up and down his arms…
Feeling too hot and too cold all at once…
Mewling and moaning and whimpering under his breath, "No, no, no, no, no…"
Come here, my child…
Tight muscles relaxing…
Bunched nerves unwinding…
Aching joints being soothed in phantom healing…
Numbness seeping into his veins…becoming more and more natural to him, as if it were hardwired into him…
Guard dropping…
Calmness descending…
Sleepy docility and submission to that wonderful, mysteriously beautiful voice…to its luring, enticing charms and tempting spell of empty promise…
Head beginning to throb lightly behind his temples…
Weakness flooding his veins…
Tiredness beginning to pull him into the chilling arms of a deep, dreamless slumber as his breath grew fainter and fainter…
Scrambling to his feet…
Trit-trotting towards the voice, that haunting yet weirdly comforting voice…
Padding deeper and deeper into the cave's tunnels…
Morro…
Come here, my son.
Come home to me.
A breathy whispering plea of "No, no, no, no, no, please, please, no…"
Sounds bouncing from one side of his skull to the other…
Voices swirling around him, staticky and unrecognizable…
You are my precious one, Morro.
You are my son.
My precious, precious wind-child.
Do not fear me.
You are my child.
My children need not fear me.
They need not fear anything.
Could it be?
Would he never fear anything again?
Please come home—to the one place you belong.
Where he belonged…
I will give you power.
Power…
I will give you peace.
Peace…
I will show you things you never imagined possible.
Things he never imagined possible…
A bony hand gripping his chest, squeezing hard…
The world beginning to fade away, slipping out of his grasp…
He couldn't breathe…
He couldn't breathe…
HE COULDN'T BREATHE!
A low, hauntingly beautiful yet menacingly guttural song drifting into his ears…soothing his fears away…calming his nerves…dispelling all his hesitation and distrust…
Taking one step…then another…then another…
The song was drawing him in…he wanted to sing it…he wanted to cry out in harmony with it…
"No, no, not the song!" Morro moaned breathlessly. "NOT THE SONG!"
He opened his mouth and began to sing the song of darkness…
Could feel his heart dying within him…
Could feel his mind descending into blackness and oblivion…
Spreading his arms wide to receive the chilling influence as a large blue-and-black portal began forming in front of him…
A sense of wrongness suddenly hitting him, sending waves of corrupted icy coldness flooding into his bloodstream…
The green glow from his scar was beginning to spread, coursing through his veins, pulsing and glowing underneath his skin as his humanity faded away…
Something wasn't right…
He felt cold…
Death…
Destruction and suffering…
Pain and misery…
Weakness and hopelessness and loneliness…
Hands clamping down on his wrists, as he writhed and fussed and whimpered and shook convulsively…
A distant voice from the end of a long, winding tunnel urging him, "Morro, look at me. Just look at me. Look into my eyes, Morro. Just focus on my eyes."
"I can't…" he moaned wistfully, his voice little more than a wispy slur, as his alertness began to fade away…
Screams ebbing out of his open mouth, as he felt his humanity draining out of him…
A large, long poison-green tentacle slinking out of the portal, coming steadily nearer and nearer…
A sickening thwap…
Frigid, slimy suckers grasping his bare skin, latching around his ankle, pulling him off his feet and dragging him across the ground…
"Morro, just focus on my eyes." It was Kai.
Kai's hands squeezing his knuckles, so hard and so tightly that his hands were paling a ghostly white, though Morro could not see it…
Wheezing and wincing, continuing to wiggle, to toss, to convulse, to sob…
Lashing out in panic…
Thrashing…
Squirming…
Writhing in the tentacle's grasp….
The grip on his ankle tightening more fiercely and viciously by the moment…
Disembodied voices shrieking…sobbing…wailing…howling…caterwauling…
Banshees and ghouls…wraiths and specters…
Ghostly green beings reaching out, seeking to escape, only to be swallowed up again by the portal's stark, barren depths…
In a surge of panic, Morro threw himself to the floor, shrieking and howling in despair and grief and tumultuous torment…
His head lolled around limply on the floor, as he battled invisible enemies…lashing out this way and that…arms flailing…legs kicking up a storm…breathing tense and strangled…
He couldn't stop crying…
Couldn't stop crying…
Couldn't stop crying!
Ghostly, incorporeal hands grabbed his clothes and began dragging him in…
He shook himself out of their grasp and tried to wiggle out of the tentacle's hold…
But then the song came back…the mesmerizing, haunting, hypnotizing song…
And despite his tears and trepidation, he began to sing it once again…
Someone placed a weighted blanket on Morro's flailing, lashing, writhing body, stopping him from moving too much. He felt a slight vibration as Kai laid down beside him so he could look the wind-child in the eyes, and then a hand grasped his own in a brotherly grip…
The emptiness in his chest was growing…
The cold was fading into him…becoming part of him…
He felt a hollow ache bleed into his core…a white-cold void of darkness and despair and emptiness…
He could no longer feel his body in space…
The darkness was growing within him…he felt so drained…and sleepy…
He could no longer hold on to humanity—or to awareness…
Despite his lingering fear, he let his eyes fall shut and the blackness of long sleep and paralyzing oblivion drag him under…
Tingling warmth was seeping into his veins…a voice, growing steadily more crystalline and clarion by the moment, admonished him, "Breathe, Morro. Just breathe. Relax and breathe."
Sucking in shaky breaths, Morro slowly pried open his eyes, feeling a swirling in his stomach…
The tentacles pulled him closer…
He did not resist…
They pulled his lifeless body into the Preeminent's embrace…
He did not stir…
A frigid breath of sickly-green mist washed over him…completing the transformation…
Darkness enveloped him…a vortex swirled all around him…and he was gone…
The wind-child stared deeply into Kai's eyes, feeling the tender familial love of his fire-wielding brother flicker in those amber-hazel depths, those brownish irises that meant safety and protection…
His breathing was deepening and evening out…
He felt less weak and dizzy…
"Just breathe, Morro." Kai commanded. "Just breathe."
And Morro breathed.
But then, he saw something so terrible, he felt his heart quail and his core shudder in fear. He could see a pulsing, glowing, sickly-green scar cracking and sprouting underneath Kai's gi, its mark ugly and jagged and shining so brightly it made Morro's stomach churn to look at it…
And then he let out a wheezy yelp of fright as the other Ninja came barreling into the room, flashlights in hand. The wind-child's body twitched and convulsed frantically, his mind reeling in terror as his breath kept hitching in his throat over and over and his panic grew more and more intense—but he finally managed to choke out, "Kai…you…have…the…mark."
And then, as Kai yanked his hand away, recoiling in horror at the words, Morro's eyes rolled into the back of his head, a shudder rippled up his spine, and he fainted dead away instantly, eyes closing fast, the waking world slipping away from his vision as he sank headlong into a deep, healing slumber and dreamless sleep.
The next morning
The past night had been very stressful for everyone, but especially Kai. And even into the morning, he still couldn't get the last thing that Morro had said before passing out on the floor out of his mind.
"Kai, you have the mark." That is what he'd said. That is what kept echoing in the fire-wielder's mind over and over and over again, as he prepared for his day in front of the bathroom mirror.
You have the mark.
You have the mark.
You have the mark.
But what mark was he talking about?
Suddenly, Kai let out a sharp yelp as an ice-cold dagger of pain pierced his chest, penetrating deep into his core and twisting taut. He buckled to his knees, gritting his teeth fiercely, panting heavily as he struggled to bite back the pain and the chill. He'd been experiencing this white-cold agony ever since the battle against the Crystal King had ended, and he'd had to give up his powers to protect them from being Crystallized and corrupted.
Just as he had once been Crystallized within, though not without. During the apex of the battle, he and Lloyd had been captured by the Overlord (the Crystal King's true identity), leading to Kai's bloodstream being infused with Forbidden Crystal power—and him almost Crystallizing his friends because of it. It had been a struggle to fight against his shadow-self, especially when Morro kept seeing right through his façade. And the whole matter was one experience he never wanted to go through again.
And yet…this pain, this cold, the numbness and emptiness that stemmed from a mysterious hollowness in his core simply wouldn't go away, no matter how much he tried to ignore it or work with it. Out of sheer instinct, he opened his mouth and let a string of obscurely mysterious, eerily guttural notes and harmoniously hissing chords ebb out from between his lips in a subtly cacophonous yet hauntingly melodic song of darkest proportions. As he sang, he felt his mind close—his heartbeat slow to a sluggish pace—his pulse fade to almost nothing—a chilling yet strangely soothing numbness seep into his chest and fill the void with a soft, strangely senseless coolness and tender, serene stillness. Though a part of him held back from letting the song pull him into its full embrace, yet another part of his being yearned to just give in and let the charms of the melody swallow his mind and core and heart in midnight silence and oblivion and darkness.
The song had first come to him when he and the other Ninja had discovered the scroll of the Green Ninja prophecy, which Kai had brought with him to Jamanakai Village by mistake when the team had first encountered Lloyd. He'd first heard it when he'd nearly set the Dojo of Spinjitzu on fire—just days before it was set on fire by the Hypnobrai in their scheme to steal their staff back. He'd kept the song secret from the others, unsure whether they would be able to hear it or not. And if he truly was the only one who could hear it, he didn't want to raise a hullabaloo over something no one else could hear or sense.
However, the song kept coming back to him at various times and places. And the more he sang it, the more he felt part of himself changing—transforming—morphing into something unlike anything he'd ever felt before.
The more he sang it, the more he felt his weakness and frailness giving way to an unnatural strength and awareness.
The more he sang it, the more he sensed his humanity fading away, replaced by something otherworldly and mysteriously supernatural, allowing him to understand the motives of others in a way that made no sense and yet made more sense than anything else.
The more he let those haunting, bizarrely seductive notes fill his mind and ebb out from between his lips, the more he wanted to let the full strength and power of the song hold him captive in its tenderly warm embrace, its enticing charms, its mind-numbing chords and tones and timbre, its clarion cadence of darkness, its core-eclipsing spell and sway.
And today he decided to let it do just that. This time, he would not hold back. This time, he would let it have full control. Sucking in a breath, he let the outer world fade away—and focused all his attention on singing the song of darkness deep and deceptively healing.
His voice rang out long and loud and sinisterly guttural and low-pitched, morphing from a teenage tenor into a husky bass without him realizing it. A strange fuzziness was beginning to cocoon him in an odd lightheadedness and dizziness and numbness, cloaking him head to toe in a bizarre, ethereal airiness and sensation of being separated from his corporeal body, of looking outside of himself, of not being completely solid…of being slightly incorporeal and intangible…
He didn't even realize his chest was glowing—until he heard her speaking to him.
Kai…Kai…
Can you hear me?
Yes…he thought—and was surprised to hear his mental voice ring out in his ears, as if he had said it out loud.
Come to me, Kai. Let me strengthen you, fire-child.
He couldn't tell who the voice was coming from—just that he was feeling more and more gravity-absent and dizzy and hazy by the moment.
You have always wanted to be the Green Ninja, haven't you? I can make it happen.
You…can? He couldn't believe his ears—or his mind.
Yessss… her voice whispered to him in a malicious hiss. All I ask for is your loyalty. Do you pledge loyalty to me?
Something about her tone didn't sit right with him, but he was in too far to turn back now. Choosing not to answer the question directly, he asked mentally, What would you need me to do?
Just sing the song of darkness…
The song of darkness…He was almost completely in her sway, her will, her influence…
He stood erect, opened his mouth even more, and let the song pour out from him, feeling his humanity fading away, giving way to something that was neither solid nor incorporeal. Green energy began to curl up his arms unnoticed…a sickly-greenish aura was forming around him…he was growing number and sleepier by the moment…
And then he gasped when he felt his very heart breaking…shattering…splintering into crystalline fragments within him, within his core, nay, his very soul…
The scar on his chest suddenly expanded so that it stretched all the way down his chest, smothering his core and tightening around his ribs, as a frigid chill soaked into his frame and all but snuffed out his Fire Power…
He buckled to his knees, panting and shaking, suddenly realizing what he had just done.
He had succumbed to the will of the Preeminent.
He had bound himself to the Cursed Realm.
Only now did he see what damage his actions had triggered.
A sickly-green scar was glowing and pulsing underneath his very gi, sinisterly purring and humming and vibrating with otherworldly energy—unnatural energy.
A frigid chill had settled in his chest, seeping into his bones and joints, oozing into his nerves, leaving them sleepy and numb and lifeless…
The green aura had faded, but its presence remained.
And when he stood up again and looked in the mirror, he couldn't help but shriek in terror at the paleness of his cheeks and the glassiness of his rapidly-darkening amber-hazel eyes.
Tears began to well up in his eyes, stinging his cheeks with their wetness as they trickled down in twin waterfalls from his eyes. His hands were shaking, trembling, convulsing erratically as he recalled all the times that he had sung the song and almost didn't hold back.
And then he realized exactly what Morro had meant.
He did have the mark.
He'd had the mark for a long, long time.
It had been branded into him—engraved into him.
And every time he'd sung the song, he'd only made the mark's influence stronger.
In that moment, he began to wonder…if he hadn't sung the song, would he have escaped unscathed?
Had he ever had a choice?
Or was his fate set in stone?
He began to remember all the times he had let his own selfishness and jealousy and impulsive rashness cloud his judgement.
The moment he almost left Lloyd to die in the Dojo of Fire...
The day he'd nearly killed Lloyd with the Staff of Elements, letting its dark influence control his thoughts and actions…
The night he accused his parents of being traitors…
The moment he'd snatched the Scroll of Forbidden Spinjitzu—and found it hard to not let it go…
The myriad instances he'd been tempted to reveal his sister's secret identity as the Samurai X…
The secret bitterness, the hidden anger, the concealed envy that drove him to ally with Chen…even though he'd kept telling himself that it was to help the team, that he was only putting on an act for Chen's approval and that he would never truly betray his team…
With a great sob of anguish, Kai sank to his knees and screamed in desperation and guilty woe. He had let the song of darkness and his own personal obsession with the green gi control him—and now, he was paying the price.
Had the Cursed Realm truly been destroyed, he wondered?
Or had a part of it lived on—in him?
More to the point…was he destined to be cursed himself—to be trapped in that dark and dismal place for all eternity?
"Lloyd…Nya…Mom…Dad…" he whispered hoarsely under his breath, "I'm so, so sorry."
And it was then that he, crouching there alone, buried his face in his hands and wept.
A/N: So, in case anyone's confused by how Morro could see the "mark" and Kai couldn't, or by the "song of darkness," the scar is the mark of being bound to the Cursed Realm, and Morro could see it because he was once tethered to-trapped in-the Cursed Realm. He once bore that mark, so now he can see if someone else has that same scar-even if that other person can't see it himself.
As for the "song of darkness," the idea actually comes from the Wingfeather Saga TV series (Angel Studios) and the "song of stones" that appears in it. The song of stones has no lyrics, yet it has transforming (and in this case, dooming) power in its notes and chords. In the Wingfeather Saga, those who sing the song of stones in the light of the "holoré" or "holoél" are melded with a living creature to become a Fang. Fangs lose their humanity during transformation and become little more than anthropomorphic animals with animalistic instincts.
A similar transformation happens to those who sing the "song of darkness." When Morro sang the song of darkness, it was then that he began to lose his mortality just prior to being pulled into the Cursed Realm. The same happened with Kai, except he sang it multiple times but never fully gave into its power before this story; however, the more times he sang the song, the more he became addicted to its power, and the more he yearned to give in to its full sway. When he chose to not hold back...you can guess what happened.