Shadow of the Truth

Shadow of the Truth is the first entry in ToaGonel's Broken Order saga. It is a short story introducing the main characters and foreshadowing the conflict to come.

Part One
Uniran was a small, tropical island not known to many inhabitants of the Matoran Universe. The island was not far off the coast of the Southern Continent, but it off most sailing maps. The island was fairly heavily wooded and not very technologically advanced, nor did it produce much in the way of commerce and, as a result, Uniran was off the minds of much of the rest of the universe. Sailors generally passed the island without so much as a glance in its direction, for what reason would there possibly be to stop there?

It was because of this that Arrin, a Matoran of Metal, was surprised to notice a small skiff landing on the island’s dusty shore.

Naturally, Arrin, curious about any visitor, ran down the slope to say hi, ignoring shouts from his friend Callah up above him. But he his pace dropped sharply as soon as he saw what the new arrival was.

A Toa.

Toa were the stuff of legends! Their adventures were amazing stories of bravery and courage, chronicled down where fanciful Matoran could only imagine themselves doing the same things. Arrin had never met a Toa, nor had anyone else on the island, except for Turaga Grunpa who himself had been one many, many years ago. But that was before anyone’s recollection.

Arrin approached slowly.

“Are you… a Toa?” he asked.

The Toa looked down at him, grimly at first. Then his eyes softened.

“Yes, young Matoran. I am a Toa.

“That’s cool. How many masks do you have?”

The Toa, taken aback at the Matoran’s question, asked

“What?”

“How many masks do you have? Isn’t that what Toa do? Adventure around, finding masks while beating up bad guys?”

The Toa smiled sadly. “If only it were so simple.”

By now other Matoran had reached the Toa. Crowding around, many of them reached to touch the Toa; others bombarded him with questions. The new arrival did his best to push through them, but the Matoran didn’t notice. Nor did they budge.

They’re worse than Kofo-Jaga the Toa thought.

“Enough! Give him some air for Artakha’s sake.”

The Toa of Fire looked in the direction of the voice and saw a Turaga, presumably of the Green, judging from his colors. Looking down, he saw the Matoran start to back off.

“Thank-you,” he said to the disgruntled Matoran.

He strode over to the Turaga.

“I’m here for—”

“I can guess why you’re here. Are you in any particular rush?”

The Toa shook his head.

The Turaga clapped his hands. “Very well. I encourage you to spend some nights here. Get to know the Matoran first. Here there are mostly Fe-Matoran, Ce-Matoran, Su-Matoran, and Bo-Matoran.” He looked in the general direction of the Matoran. “I will not make your decision for you; that is your task. So do it well.”

The Toa nodded. Leaning forward, he whispered, “I may not even choose one of them. Storms are rising and there are precious few Toa. I cannot waste my power on someone not prepared for the responsibility.”

The Turaga nodded.

“I understand.”

Over the course of the next few days, the Toa assumed a shelter just on the periphery of the village. Every morning, he made it a point to avoid Matoran attention, instead desiring to observe the Matoran as they normally behaved.

One night, however, he was unavoidably confronted by a Matoran on this matter.

“What are you doing? Why are you avoiding us Matoran?”

“I’m not avoiding you. Just… watching.”

“Watching what?”

“I’m seeing how you behave.”

To the Matoran, called Kelrik, this was a weird thing to say.

“Isn’t it obvious? We live our lives.”

“I know, I know. I’m just seeing… who has the most… potential.”

“Potential for what?”

“Potential to… achieve their destiny.”

Kelrik shrugged. This answer also seemed silly. Everyone achieved their destiny somehow. But perhaps this Toa didn’t realize that. Grunpa would know how to explain it well.

“You should ask Grunpa about Destiny. He says that everyone achieves Destiny.”

“Er…yes, perhaps I will.”

The Toa glanced down at a tablet he had of the Matoran’s names. Some had scratches etched through them. Wishing to change the subject, he looked back at the Matoran.

“Your island isn’t very technological, is it, Kelrik?”

Kelrik shook his head. “No. Several of us Matoran have been asking the Turaga to get better technology, like the rest of the world. I really wish he would—”

“No, no… I like it. It’s refreshing.”

The Toa eventually narrowed his list of potential candidates down to seven potential candidates, but his missions as Toa weren’t done yet, so he couldn’t give up all his power. With great reluctance, he crossed off more Matoran until there were just four. Once he decided these were the ones, he told the Turaga on the dusty beach.

“Very good. I will arrange for them to meet you.”

“No, no. I want you to give these to them. I must go.”

“It is the duty of a Toa to give out his Toa Stones.”

The Toa shoved his skiff back out to water.

“No. I cannot bear to look them in the eye and tell them of the fate I have doomed them to.”

Part Two
Arrin hadn’t known what to expect when the Turaga had handed him a Toa Stone, but it wasn’t this. One moment ago, he had been a Matoran, respected (when not disdained) in his community, reigning Gervii champ, and, at least according to Grunpa at last year’s Unnaming Day ceremony, “Most likely to die riding a Kraawa up a tree while shooting rainbow Rhotuka from a Kaukau”. But this… he didn’t know what to think.

That lasted all of half a moment.

“I’m a Toa!” he shouted. He looked around. “I’m a Toa. I’m a… Toa!”

Kelrik grinned. “Toa Kelrik…”

“But I’m a Toa!”

Even the normally somber Callah was having trouble repressing a slight smile.

“Well, well, well…” she said.

“I’m a Toa!”

Callah scowled. “Shut up, Arrin.”

Arrin sighed. Only Callah could ruin such a moment.

“Guys… What are we supposed to do now?”

The three Matoran looked at the speaker, the fourth Matoran, Ervik. Arrin gasped as an idea came to mind. He looked at Kelrik.

“Hey, Kelrik! You want to scare the Turaga?”

“Yes! I mean—No, I’ve had enough of your dumb schemes, Arrin.”

“Good answer,” Callah gave Kelrik a tight smile.

“No, seriously,” Ervik said. “What are we supposed to do?”

“That, my dear friends, is for you to decide.”

The four new Toa looked toward the entrance of the small Kini. Turaga Grunpa stood sadly in the entrance.

“The time has come for you four to decide. You can move on, explore lands beyond our own and fight to defend Matoran on all islands… or you can stay here and defend Uniran. The choice is yours.”

Arrin grinned in Kelrik’s general direction, his choice already made. Kelrik frowned. If the universe was, in fact, on the verge of a new conflict, as the air of the Toa of Fire seemed to suggest, did they have a right to stay here and cower? On the other hand, might Uniran need them in time to come?

“Do you think Uniran will need champions?” Kelrik asked.

Grunpa smiled.

“My child, I doubt anyone will care for this little island, just on the edge of everything. Uniran is small, of little strategic value, and we have few resources. I am confident we will be left out of any conflict.”

Arrin shook his head in confusion. Who wouldn’t care about Uniran? It was so big, full of interesting characters, so animated, with cool parties and rich customs (don’t get Arrin started on the Waffle-Kanohi Treatment he started), and—

“Because the world does not revolve around the island of Uniran. As difficult as it will be to lose you four—”

Callah snorted. “Not Arrin,”

“Including Arrin…” Grunpa smiled at Callah. “The universe needs good Toa like you. When the Toa of Fire consulted me about the Matoran he’d selected—”

Arrin-- “Wait, you were in on this?!”

“--I told him he’d made good choices. The Toa he’d selected were excellent compliments of each other. They’d make some of the best Toa the world had ever seen.”

Kelrik tried subtly to rub his eyes. Callah smiled. Arrin grinned.

“Just wait ‘till I tell Borin you picked me over hi—”

“Arrin, will you shut up?''” Kelrik, Callah, and Ervik said at once. Sullenly, Arrin shut his'' mouth.

“Do not tell the other Matoran,” Grunpa frowned. Suddenly tired, he leaned against a column in the suva.

“Who is supposed to show us what to do?”

The question came from Ervik.

“Ervik,” Grunpa stood straight. “That is Mata Nui’s job. He will show you the path. It is yours to follow it. And even if you err, you will find your way back again. Such is the will of Mata Nui.”

Ervik looked at the ground, a struggle waging within him. A life without Grunpa’s guidance? Where was he supposed to go? It was a whole universe out there. So many people. How would he know right from wrong without the Turaga?

Kelrik breathed heartily.

“If we leave… how will we know where to go?”

“The Great Spirit will guide you. It is his way.”

Arrin looked around, confused by the struggles the other Toa were having. Was it really such a hard decision? Rampaging around the universe? Bringing back trophies of conquests to Uniran? How was this hard?

Kelrik looked at the Toa Stone in his hand, now devoid of power. How would they know where to go? Who to save? What ugly creatures were the bad guys and who needed protection? Here on Uniran, there had always been Grunpa’s guiding hand, forcing the Matoran to empathize with their opponents, work resolutions out. But the new Toa were hardly as wise as Grunpa, and true bad guys were hardly willing to work matters out…

Callah glanced at the three male Toa. Was it really her destiny to be stuck with these three? Judging by the looks of things, Arrin would be taking the lead of the team, especially if they left for the greater universe. Here, at least, she could stay in relative isolation, and if Arrin defied that, she could appeal to Grunpa. If she didn’t bash his head it with her new powers…

As for Ervik… his hands were fists, bearing his weight as he leaned on the suva. He relied on Grunpa, to show him the way. While he was fairly confident he could find the right path… what if he couldn’t? What if he strayed from Mata Nui’s path for him? Who would set him straight again? He had heard legends of Matoran receiving visions of Mata Nui… but could he rely on the Great Spirit to guide him?

Yes. If he couldn’t rely on the Great Spirit… who could he rely on?

“I will go,” he said, standing straight again.

Kelrik looked at Ervik. The Toa of Plasma had seemed to have similar reservations as Kelrik. If he’d agreed to go, and Arrin was going…

“So will I,” he said at last.

Callah looked between the Toa of Plasma and two Toa of Metal. If the other two were following Arrin…

“Very well,” she snapped. “But the moment I regret it, I’m marching straight back here.”

Kelrik glanced at Ervik. “What do you think? Exile Arrin to keep Callah?”

Ervik grinned. “Probably be worth it,”

“Oh, yeah, thanks.”

“Then you have made your decision.” Grunpa sighed. “If that is your wish… then so be it.”

“Oh come now, Turaga! Don’t make us feel all guilty about it now!”

“I’m sorry,” Grunpa said. “Go to the Matoran. Make your farewells. Then go, embrace your destiny.”

Part Three
The island coast of Bythrain was as silent as a graveyard. Aside from the occasional swashing of the water upon the shore and the undulating whistles of the wind, the island might’ve seemed completely dead were it not for the looming fortress a short distance in. A slight gust of wind swept through the grass on the seashore, causing it to flow and ebb like the surfs not far away.

A small Dermis Turtle scuttled up along the beach in search of a small meal. Natural herbivores, Dermis Turtles preferred a specific species of grass. Known to the Big Beings as “Splitwave Grass,” the plant’s natural sweetness was rather fond for the small colony of Dermis Turtles on Bythrain. Really, there was little wildlife left on the island; much of it had been either trained for war and now dwelt within the fortress, or killed off. As the Dermis Turtles had posed no immediate threat to the organization within the fortress, they hadn’t been killed off, but naturally, they didn’t realize that. All they knew was that there was little competition for the resources along the shore.

There was a crackle of energy to the turtle’s right and it stopped and watched, cautiously. A small blue orb appeared, which then enlarged. There was a silhouette of a being and then a Big Being stepped through. The exhausted newcomer collapsed on the ground.

The creaking sound of the drawbridge came from the direction of the fortress, now behind the Dermis Turtle. That was all it needed to hear; with that, the Dermis Turtle scurried off into the night.

Two powerful warriors, one gold and the other silver, emerged from the drawbridge, torches in hand, looking for the source of the disturbance. When the silver one saw the newcomer up a ways along the beach, he grabbed the arm of the gold warrior and pointed. The gold warrior looked where the silver one was pointing and set off for the newcomer.

As they approached, the gold warrior said, “My name is Brutaka. My axe-wielding, titanic friend here is Axonn. Not too long ago he conquered several of the Southern Islands for fun. Answer my questions well and you won’t have to suffer the same fate as those who stood in his way.”

The body lying on the ground just stirred. Brutaka prodded the body with his sword.

“Stand up, stranger.”

With great effort, the newcomer stirred. Feeling the sword prodding him, he heaved himself to his feet to see his assailants. Brutaka noted that it seemed like he would fall at any moment.

But he won’t if he knows what’s good for him… he thought.

“What is your business on Bythrain?” Brutaka asked.

“I’m here… from another dimension… Mata Nui… turned evil… conquering planets…”

Brutaka looked at Axonn who nodded. The idea of other dimensions was hardly new to him; he himself wore the Kanohi Olmak, Mask of Dimension Gates. Axonn himself wore the Kanohi Rode which told him the newcomer was telling the truth.

''Mata Nui turned evil? At'' least in that universe he actually does something. Here he’s practically asleep. 

Brutaka himself had long since given up hope on Mata Nui. As far as he was concerned, Mata Nui had long since given up on this universe. After all, why would he let the Brotherhood of Makuta thrive as it did, much less the organization Brutaka currently belonged to?

“Why have you come here…”

“I’m … becau…”

And with that, the stranger collapsed. Brutaka looked at Axonn.

“Bring this one inside for questioning. There’s no telling what information can be gleaned about the nature of our universe from the experiences of someone from one nearly identical.”

Axonn nodded and picked up the body of the other-worlder.

And with any luck, the Kritor Alliance will learn much. Soon—very soon, all the Matoran Universe will bow before Bythrain. 

Makuta Miserex slammed the door to his throne room on Destral. Turning again to Teridax, he asked

“What did you say?”

“I said the Kritor Alliance has recovered an other-worlder and they’re refusing to present him before the international representations. Contrary to the Treaty of Gera Nui.”

Miserex cursed. He had always despised the idea of treaties. It was like confessing you aren’t able to just take what you want in life. The Brotherhood of Makuta would not even deal with international diplomacy were it not for the existence of the Kritor Alliance. The Alliance had always been a thorn in his side and that of the Brotherhood of Makuta. Kritor, as it was, was short for Nui Kritekk Mator or ‘Destiny’s Master,’ in Matoran. And, of course, “Alliance” had the usual meaning.

As the Alliance rose, over time, it and the Brotherhood came to be the main powers in the universe. Arguments could be raised that the Dark Hunters were another noteworthy power, especially knowing the benefits it reaped from the rivalry. Down south, another power had sought to emulate the success of the Alliance; in response, both the Brotherhood and the Alliance had operated to squash the budding organization called the League of Six Kingdoms. But as it was, both powers were equal in strength and both kept the other in check.

That could all change with this other-worlder.

There was no telling what an other-worlder could know. Perhaps he knew the destinies of many Makuta and Kritor. Perhaps he knew fundamental secrets of the universe. Perhaps he knew the designs of a great weapon that would enable the Kritor to rule. Either way, the Makuta couldn’t let the Kritor get the upper hand.

“Send word to the Makuta. I’m calling a Convocation. Also, send my summons to The Shadowed One. Tell him I wish to meet with him. Here. On Destral.”

If Teridax was surprised or shocked, he hid it well. “Yes, my lord.”

Miserex reclined on his throne. Yes… If the old enemy refused to work alongside the Makuta… perhaps it was time they remember the true masters of power.

Characters

 * Arrin
 * Kelrik
 * Callah
 * Ervik
 * Grunpa
 * A Toa of Fire
 * Axonn
 * Brutaka
 * An other-worlder
 * Miserix
 * Teridax