Chronicle

Chronicle is a short story written by. It centers around Elisis, the Chronicler of Bo-Koro. It is part of the Unending Shadows Storyline.

The story serves as Invader39's entry into the Summer Writing Contest.

Story
Morning broke over the horizon.

Elisis awoke to patches of golden light splashed across the floor of her hut, spilling in through the gaps in the curtain. Pushing herself up, she got off the bed. Running her hand through her hair, she opened her window and was blinded by the rising suns.

After the glare faded, she managed to take in the breathtaking landscape of the region around the village of Bo-Koro. Despite having spent almost her entire life here, and having seen this view every day for thousands and thousands of years, she could continually find something new in the sight.

Turning away from the view, she walked to the opposite side of her hut, where a mirror was hung next to her desk. Looking into the reflective surface, she straightened out her hair from its messy state. After she was done, she turned and took a seat at her desk.

The desk was littered with various scrolls and pieces of parchment. There was no organization to it, except maybe that the scrolls were mainly confined to the back of the desk.

Sorting through her scattered papers, she pulled out one that appeared to be half-written. Taking up a quill, she continued writing where she had left off.

Light poured into her hut as the suns continued to rise. After about two hours or so of work, and with her hand hurting from writing, she set down her quill, stretched, and decided that she’d head out.

Just as she was getting up, there was a knock at her door. Going over, she opened it to see Kinla standing there.

“Elisis!” she smiled brightly. “The sun’s been risen for a while. Did you sleep in again?”

The Ga-Matoran glanced at her desk. “I was working.”

“Oh? On what?” the Vo-Matoran asked.

“I thought that I’d try my hand at writing a short story,” Elisis replied. “Like Fare.”

Her eyes lit up. “Can I see it?”

“It’s not ready yet,” she shook her head. “I don’t want anyone to read it until it’s done.”

“Why?” Kinla cocked her head.

“Because,” Elisis said, grabbing her Chronicler’s staff from beside the door. “It’s not finished. I can’t show someone something that’s not done yet. It doesn’t even really have a story yet.”

“Don’t you need that before you start writing?”

“Yeah, but I can never find a story,” Elisis said. “If I waited for a story, I’d never write.”

“Well,” Kinla smiled. “I know you’ll find a story. Someday.”

Elisis returned the smile before she closed the door and stepped out in the sunlight. Around her in the village other Matoran made their way through the early morning, beginning their days much like she was beginning hers.

Together, Elisis and Kinla walked out into the village square. Around them, traders were setting up shop. Some were selling fruits, others vegetables, some plants, and a few were trading tools and Kanohi.

Passing between them, the two Matoran came to a split in the walls that surrounded their village. Coming to the railing, they looked out over the landscape again.

“Do you ever wonder what life is like outside Bo-Koro?” Elisis asked, still gazing.

“What do you mean?” Kinla turned to her.

“I dunno,” the Ga-Matoran replied. “Do they live differently than us? Produce different things? I’ve heard the legends of Metru Nui, and how utterly amazing that city is, but I don’t know any details. Just stories.”

“Everything’s bound to be different,” the Vo-Matoran said.

“I just want to know,” she sighed.

There was chuckle from behind the two Matoran. “Always looking for adventure, aren’t you, Chronicler?”

They turned to see Anuma, Toa of Psionics, guardian of Bo-Koro. She smiled warmly behind her Mask of Intangibility.

“Toa Anuma,” the two Matoran bowed.

“How goes the morning, Matoran?” the Toa asked.

“Just fine,” Kinla answered.

“Good,” she replied. “Enjoy the day, you two. It is a good one.”

Turning, the Toa of Psionics walked away from the two Matoran and to another part of the village. They watched her go before sitting in silence for a moment.

“Want to go see what Fare is up to?” Kinla suggested.

Elisis shrugged. “Okay,” she replied.

They found the Bo-Matoran buried in a pile of scrolls and tablets. His hut was in a much sorrier state than Elisis’ had been. The two Matoran were barely able to even enter the writer’s home. He was scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment, and didn’t notice them arrive.

It wasn’t until Elisis coughed that he realized that he wasn’t alone.

“AH!” Fare exclaimed when he saw them, accidentally losing his quill in the clutter. “Elisis! Kinla! What are you doing?”

“We came to see what you’re doing,” the Chronicler said.

“I’m writing,” he said, beginning to look for his quill. “Like I always do.”

“What are you writing?” Kinla asked.

“A thriller based on the travels of two Toa through the Southern Island Chains,” he replied.

“Have you ever been to the Southern Island Chains?” Elisis asked.

Fare found his quill. “No, but I’ve heard a lot about it.”

“How?” the Vo-Matoran raised an eyebrow.

“Stories and scrolls that I’ve collected on my journeys before I came here,” he returned to his desk and continued writing. “I don’t remember all of it, but it should be good enough for my book.”

“I wish I had traveled the world,” the Ga-Matoran sat down. “All my life I’ve been stuck here. So much for being the Chronicler.”

“You’re a homebody, Elisis,” Fare said. “You desire to be home with those you care about.”

“But I want to travel,” she replied. “All my life I have.”

“Why haven’t you done it yet?”

“Well, I’ve been busy. I have to chronicle the history of the village.”

The Bo-Matoran stopped writing. “Really? And how many things of note actually happen here, Elisis? If you ask me, I think that you’re just scared.”

Elisis recoiled, her eyes wide. Kinla gasped.

“What?” she narrowed her eyes.

He turned in his chair to face her. “You’re scared. You’re afraid that if you leave, something will happen to you, or something will happen to the village.”

“I’m not afraid,” the Ga-Matoran retorted.

“Then do it. Don’t hold yourself back.”

She looked at him for a long moment before getting up and leaving the hut without another word. Kinla and Fare watched her go. The Vo-Matoran moved to follow when Fare stopped her.

“Let her go,” he said. “She needs to be alone right now.”

An hour later, Elisis was sitting on a tree branch overlooking the vast landscape of the Southern Continent that surrounded the village of Bo-Koro. She rested with her foot on the branch, hands on her knee, and her chin on her hands. Her eyes were unfocused, the Chronicler lost in deep thought.

She didn’t know what Fare was talking about. She wasn’t scared, of anyone or anything. Well, that wasn’t true, she realized. The Visorak and the Bohrok scared her. But she certainly wasn’t scared of traveling.

Or was she? She had spent her whole life dreaming of traveling the world, but never did it. And it wasn’t because of her being busy, she knew, deep down. She winced as she realized that Fare was right. She was afraid.

Hugging her legs to her chest, Elisis looked down. Why was she afraid of what would happen to the village if she left? Toa Anuma was the guardian of the village, not her. She was just the Chronicler. She meant nothing. The only ones who actually cared about her were Kinla and Fare.

Elisis sighed. She was nothing.

The Ga-Matoran turned at the sound of someone approaching. Toa Anuma herself was walking along the tree branch towards her.

“Doing alright, Chronicler?” the Toa of Psionics smiled warmly. “You seem a little… upset.”

She straightened up. “No. I’m fine,” she lied.

The Toa sat down next to her. “Come on, Elisis,” she said empathically. “You know you can confide in me.”

She looked at her for a moment before nodding. “Okay. You got me.”

“So,” Anuma smiled again. “What’s on your mind?”

“For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to travel the world,” Elisis began. “When I became Chronicler, this desire was amplified. But, I never did it. Instead I stayed here, chronicling the occasionally interesting thing that happens here.”

“Why did you stay?” the Toa asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Well, I do. I was afraid. I suppose that I always knew deep down, but I never wanted to admit it. Fare made me face the truth.”

“How’d you take it?”

“I’m sitting in a tree,” Elisis chuckled dryly. “How do you think I took it?”

Anuma nodded. “What are you going to do now?”

“Sulk?” the Ga-Matoran said.

“Now that doesn’t seem like a productive idea,” the Toa smiled.

“Well, it’s not like I actually want to face my problems,” Elisis replied.

“But you know that you have to.”

“Yeah.”

The Toa put her hand on the Chronicler’s shoulder. “So what are you going to do about it?”

Elisis looked at her. “I… don’t know.”

Anuma smiled again. “Then figure it out.”

Over the next couple weeks, and after a lot of thought, Elisis decided to start planning for a trip. She didn’t know to where, but she knew for sure that she was going somewhere. She was done being afraid, and she was finally doing what she desired.

The Ga-Matoran was in her hut packing a bag when there was a knock on her door. Crossing to it, she opened it to see Kinla standing there. Her eyes were wide and she looked anxious.

“Elisis!” she said.

“Kinla?” she raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”

“Come and see!”

She grabbed Elisis by the hand and pulled her out of her hut and into the village square. It appeared that every Matoran inhabitant was there, gathered around Toa Anuma, who seemed to be kneeling. Kinla pulled her to the crowd, and the two of them managed to break through to see what was going on. The Chronicler gasped once they did.

There was a Ba-Matoran lying on the ground with two other Matoran tending to his wounds. Toa Anuma was speaking to him.

“What happened?” she asked.

The Matoran coughed, specks of blood flying into the air. “Visorak,” he said quietly, but they all heard it and knew what it meant. A chill went down Elisis’ spin.

“What did the Visorak do?”

“They…” he struggled to speak. “They attacked my village, Ba-Koro… took several of the Matoran… killed our Toa… Left us in ruins… I came… I came here to find… find help… They’re going to come back…”

“What inflicted these wounds upon you?” the Toa asked.

“I encountered a Bohrok Pahrak on my way here…” he sputtered. “I barely survived.”

Anuma looked on him with sad eyes. “How many injured are in your village?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know… I left for help as soon as the Visorak moved on…”

She looked at him for a moment before standing up. The Toa of Psionics turned to the assembled.

“Our sister village Ba-Koro needs help. I will go to assist them,” she declared.

The collective gasped.

“What?” one Ta-Matoran stepped forth. “You can’t be serious?”

“I am,” Anuma said firmly.

“What if the Visorak come here? What if they destroy Bo-Koro while you’re gone?” he continued, fearing sounding in his voice.

“Matoran need my help,” she replied, her expression determined. “I cannot refuse.”

“But-.”

“No!” the Toa snapped, taking a step forward. The Matoran fell silent.

“Have you become so self-centered that you cannot care about the safety of anyone but yourselves?” she asked them, who looked down. “Have you forgotten that we are all brothers and sisters? When one of us is hurting, we go to help. There is an entire village that needs my help, and I cannot stand by.”

After several moments of silence, Elisis stepped forward.

“Let me come with you.”

Their eyes met. Anuma was quiet for a moment before shaking her head,

“No,” she said. “I cannot risk your lives. I must do this alone. They need help now. You will only slow me down.”

They looked at each other for a moment. The Ga-Matoran then nodded.

“Yes, Toa Anuma,” she bowed. She then stood up. “Please just be careful”

The Toa of Psionics smiled. “Of course I will, Chronicler.”

She then looked back to the Matoran. “You will all stay here and look after the refugee. You will also watch the village for Visorak and anything else that will threaten it. I am no longer your guardian. Until my return, you will protect yourselves.”

They watched her silently before they all bowed. She returned it. Taking up her dual-sword, she strapped it to her back. With one last look at her village, walked through the village gate and down the stairs.

Elisis, Kinla, Fare, and every other Matoran of Bo-Koro rushed to the edge of the village and watched as Toa Anuma disappeared into the wilderness.

Months had passed since Anuma had left for Ba-Koro, and no word had come from her. The Ba-Matoran who had come to them had died a week after arriving. They had tried to save him, but his wounds were too severe.

They had buried him in the field, with a stone to mark his resting place.

No one knew what had happened to Toa Anuma. Had she made it to Ba-Koro and the village had been attacked by Visorak again? Had they taken her? Had they killed her? They didn’t know. Had she even made it? Perhaps she had been killed in the wilderness.

Morale in the village had dropped in the preceding months. Everyone had accepted that their Toa was gone, and would never be returning.

Elisis stood looking out her window at the field, which was darkened by the overcast sky. She watched as the wind rustled the leaves of the trees and swayed the grass.

She didn’t know what to do. It was too late to help their sister village now. All they could do now was sulk in their own regret.

And it hurt.

The Chronicler had canceled her plans to leave after Anuma left. She figured that she really had to stay in the village now. She couldn’t risk leaving and having something happen while she was away.

Pulling herself away from the window, she turned and looked around her hut. It was dark, primarily from the fact that she had neglected to light anything. She shrugged. It matched the mood.

Crossing the small room, she came to her desk and sat down. Its surface was still in as much disarray as it had been months prior, with the papers she had been writing on still in their same spot. She had been able to get a little more down in the months since, but not much.

Sighing, she looked a the half-finished sheet in front of her.

What was the point? No one was ever going to see it. She was stuck here, in this little village in the middle of nowhere. Her book was nothing. She was nothing.

At that moment a strong wind swept through the valley and struck the village. Her hut shook slightly as it hit. She turned around and saw that the light of the twin suns was breaking through the dark clouds, shining on the field. The sight of it brought a faint smile to her face.

The Ga-Matoran’s eyes suddenly lit up. Turning back to her desk, she moved her half-finished papers out of the way and grabbed a fresh sheet. Grabbing her quill, she began to write. She sat there for hours, scratching out word after word, faster than anything she had ever written.

After going through several papers, she stopped and sat up. Dropping the quill, she shuffled through the pages and found the bottom one. Pulling it out, she held it in her hands. She smiled at the inscription at the top, which stood out from the rest of it.

“A Chronicle of Anuma, Toa of Psionics. By the Chronicler of Bo-Koro.”

She had finally found her story.

Characters

 * Elisis
 * Kinla
 * Fare
 * Toa Anuma
 * Several Matoran

Trivia

 * This story was written for the Summer Writing Contest 2019.
 * A version of this story has been in development since 2015, and has gone through several iterations.