Closer to the Truth

Closer to the Truth is ToaGonel's (main) entry into the 2018 Okoto Writing Contest.

Hidden in the Dark
The Hunter’s narrowed as his quarry scuttled into the clearing along the path. The mossy overgrowth blocking his view afforded him a poor view of the creature, but once the trap was sprung, he would have plenty of time to examine the object of his hunt. If it really was one of the Six he so desperately desired or if it was simply another Great Crab, the fact of its apprehension was all but assured.

But then the multiped slowed to a creep.

The Hunter tensed—that wasn’t good.

The animal moved slowly along the ground, its body language betraying wariness. Somehow it had sensed something—perhaps the Hunter reeked that bad of anticipation.

And then… it stopped. The Head Hunter tensed. A few more steps along the path and the cat would be in the bag.

The creature threw a furtive glance around it. It was suspicious of something. The Head Hunter frowned. The prey was now edging away from the trap. Even the birds singing all above them and the distant animals trampling the overgrowth had no clue of the tension in this small clearing.

The hunter ever so slightly raised his head. It was a spider, a surprisingly large one. It was looking directly at the area where he had hidden his trap. Somehow the hunter had failed to disguise it properly, but it was no matter now.

Because the spider was backing away.

The Head Hunter snarled and leapt to his feet, leaping into the path. His Bow Shooter blazed to life as he opened fire at the ground beneath the spider. Taken completely off guard, the spider gambled that it had been mistaken about the strange patch of land and rushed further down the path to dodge the hailstorm of bullets. Before it could register anything, however, a web of rope consumed the spider as it found itself dangling in midair.

The Hunter stalked forward. It was a massive spider, larger than any he had ever seen. And it didn’t appear to resemble any of the large spiders he had seen swarming the island of late. This one was black with streaks of red and orange. And when it hissed at him, the hisses weren’t imbued with the usual rage or fear typical of ordinary prey. The snarls were indeed angry, but it was quiet and relatively composed. The spider was frustrated at itself.

And the hunter could detect something more… the spider was impressed.

“He’s with me,” a cold voice whispered behind him.

The Hunter stiffened. So absorbed was he with his successful capture that he’d failed to notice anything else. Not that anyone could blame him—few intelligent beings roamed these parts of the Region of Jungle. Which begged a lot of questions.

“It’s a large creature. I’m sure we could split it between us,” the hunter hissed at his shoulder, knowing better than to turn around.

“That ‘it’ is male,” replied a voice so soft it chilled the Hunter to the bone. “And you’ll find that even trapped, the Lord of Skull Spiders poses a dangerous threat. Come on down, ‘Loss’.”

The rope split open and the giant spider fell through, landing, however dazed, on four of its six legs. The other two were already raised in defense—the bow was still pointed at it. As the spider adopted a defensive position, it clicked and hissed something at the Hunter.

“He says he makes homes of tougher webs than that. You should be disappointed.”

The Hunter feigned a relaxed smile. “It makes up for him being such an easy capture. So who are you gentlemen, and what is your business in this… treacherous… region of our island?”

“We are on our way to a meeting… Scalp Hunter. Yes, I’ve heard of you.”

The spider made some remark.

“Scalp Hunter, Head Hunter, Dark Hunter it makes no difference to me. As long as there’s nothing to hang a mask on.”

The man behind the Head Hunter chuckled. “Oh, I far preferred you when you hunted simply scalps.”

The Hunter’s eyebrows furrowed. He still had no idea who he was talking to.

He started to turn around slowly, noting that he was not stopped. “You would reject a painless death in favor of the misery of having your skull exposed?”

“I don’t exactly have much choice anymore.”

And now he could see him. A regally-clad skeleton armed to the teeth with the acclaimed Mask Stealer Staff and a hooked blade. Small chunks of rotted meat and cartilage still clung to the frame, but most had been eaten away with time. Most impressively, the skull stood out from the rest of the body as it was polished and smoothened, as though he took great pride in his head.

The skeleton was laughing loudly at his surprise now, but there was no expression of humor in his face—there was neither expression nor face, in fact.

“I am the Dread Warlord, I am the Dead King. I am Kulta, the Skull Grinder.”

“Well met,” the hunter muttered under his breath.

“Yes, quite so.”

The spider made some clicking noises.

The Head Hunter’s muscles relaxed. Now that he could see both of his opponents, his chances of dispatching the two of them were increasing exponentially.

“Kulta… I remember hearing of the Skull Raiders that pillaged the coastlands. More to the point, I have heard that you still dwell beneath the mountains. But what are you doing on the surface?”

Kulta grinned slightly. “That is none of your concern. But… you’ll find we have substantially grown in number since our prior downfall.”

Something in his tone indicated the hunter should know better than to press the topic. “And you,” the Head Hunter turned to ‘Loss’. “You are the one responsible for the Skull Spiders swarming the land?”

Proud clicks.

“My Shadow Traps have clashed numerous times with your hordes. It has interfered with hunting season. The Creatures I seek have been driven further underground because of you lot.”

“I am sure something can be arranged,” Kulta uttered, his proud temperament expired. “But I am afraid we must be on our way, Head Hunter. We must be on our way. If you’ll excuse us—”

Kulta shoved past the Head Hunter, and he and ‘Loss’ continued on their way. The hunter watched them recede, considering the numerous traps and pitfalls he could activate. But Kulta had spoken of a meeting to take place, and the presence of three or more sapient entities in this region of Uxar besides himself was too fascinating to pass up.

So he leapt back off the path, into the overgrowth and slipped into a shadow. The hunt had recommenced.

Left in the Dark
“No, I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.” The spider clicked and chortled something in response. The Skull Grinder’s frown deepened.

“No, ‘Loss,’ let’s not forget who convinced whom to come down here.”

Clicking.

“Well, he better arrive soon. I am not impressed by envoys that arrive late.”

Kulta had considered and rejected that the Scalp Hunter could have been the messenger his recent friend had received his message from. They had been released far too easily, it was quite evident that the Hunter was curious as to their path. He didn’t trust the Hunter any more than the Hunter likely trusted him, but he didn’t feel threatened by him at the moment. Let him play away in the forest under his bearskin cloaks and armed with his bow and blade.

“If he does not arrive soon, then I expect the three of us would do well to divide the island among ourselves with our combined legions,” Kulta glanced at the spider. He raised his voice louder. “Isn’t that right, Hunter?”

The hunter emerged from Kulta’s shadow, causing the king to very nearly jump away. “If we are to cooperate, then you may as well call me by my name.”

“That being…?”

“Umarak.”

“Very well, Hunter” The Skull Grinder grinned, “I expect you’ll desire the Regions of Jungle and Fire. I myself am inclined toward the Regions of Ice and Stone, whereas ‘Loss,’—”

“Silence, fools,” came a ghostly voice from the side next to the king and the spider. “And listen to what the Dark Lord has summoned you for.”

“I am not some cupbearer that you may summon me,” taunted Kulta. “I came of my own volition.”

“You would be surprised to know how little volition you hold,” the ghostly voice growled. “After all, in the end, aren’t we all servants of the Pandora Mask?” the voice chuckled darkly at its little joke

“I don’t know what that means, but I don’t care,” Kulta replied boldly. The arrogant, carefree exterior was a distraction from the internal cunning and calculation. “My… slightly less new friend here,” he nodded at ‘Loss,’ “Informed me of the prospect of an alliance between forces which, in total, would be two to three times the population of Okoto.”

“He speaks true.”

Before their eyes, a spectral form materialized. Resembling a giant python, the shadowy creature held a strange weapon resembling his own Mask Snatcher (a Soul Siphon, as Kulta would learn in time). Like himself and ‘Loss,’ this creature was painted black and red, a combination Kulta was rapidly growing tired of. The serpent’s head undulated from side to side, sending waves cascading down its form, although Kulta was not sure if the snake was doing it himself or if it was a result of the spectral projection.

“I am Prectus, the Soul Grinder, a ruler in the Shadow Realm. Not too long ago, I signed a pact with Makuta, the Mask Breaker, aligning my legions of Lost Souls with him and his designs. Join the Skull Spiders and Skull Armies with us, and Okoto will fall fast before us.”

Kulta stepped forward. “You say you’re the Sku—Soul Grinder. Funny. Perhaps we were once one, in a prior life.” He chuckled. “Well… I don’t exactly know what it’s like down in the… ‘Shadow Realm,’ but up here in the real world, we don’t exactly lend our armies on a whim. And I don’t exactly recall ending on good terms with one Makuta…”

“Makuta wishes to mend all ills occasioned by the Skull Raids,” Prectus retorted.

“Why do you think I couldn’t do it myself?”

“Let’s not kid each other, Kulta.” Prectus frowned. “You and your Skull Armies have remained hidden in the mountains because you know as anyone with a brain—if you pardon the expression—that both mask makers live on. More importantly, you fear the wrath of Ekimu should he return at the wrong time. Makuta assures you that he can handle his brother.”

Kulta pursed his lips, in consideration, so the Lord of Skull Spiders jumped in with his clicks and noises. Prectus listened and nodded.

“Your Skull Spider raids have made some progress, but you attack only the weak points, places you know you can take. With a tactical mind like that of Makuta, anything, weak or strong, can fall to your hordes. In short yes, your wild lashing out against the oppression of the Skull Spiders has made some progress, but there is far more potential to be had.”

The Lord of Skull Spiders clicked something, but it was vague and even Kulta couldn’t make it out.

“Now who are you?” Prectus asked Umarak.

“I am Umarak. The Hunter.”

Prectus nodded. “I see. Are you connected to the Shadow Traps?”

“They answer to me, yes.”

A smile stretched across Prectus’s face. “Fascinating. This could be a delightful alliance indeed. I imagine the Shadow Traps… You would make an excellent leader of the Shadow Hordes.”

“I do not care for war. Such a conflict would interfere with my mission.”

Prectus didn’t look convinced, but he let off… for now. “Perhaps Lord Makuta will convince you otherwise. Nevertheless, the union of the Skull, Shadow, and Soul legions would and will devastate the land. Neither the Protectors, the Creatures, nor Ekimu himself could stand before us.”

He smiled broadly.

“I am listening,” muttered Kulta.

Alone in the Dark
“All three of them will join,” the Soul Grinder bowed his head before the Master of Evil.

From the depths of the room, a soft voice rushed past, like a soft, chilled breeze.

“The Skull Grinder, the Head Hunter, and the Soul Grinder united at last. Kulta, Umarak, and Prectus once again bow to me. And with them… The Skull Armies, the Shadow Hordes, and the Lost Souls. Those who are mine have returned to me.”

“They did not remember their heritage when I prompted them,” Prectus remarked.

“No… and it is no wonder. I created them, unleashed them, gave them the freedom of choice. And now they come bowing and scraping to me. As they were meant to.”

Prectus stood upright.

“Your servants will not understand your role here. I do not even comprehend it.”

“You do not need to comprehend my role. You need only to fulfill yours.”

Before Prectus, a hologram of light erupted from the floor. Okoto could be seen. Small grey dots converged on the region near the Mask Maker’s City and the villages while black dots spanned the regions seemingly devoid of life.

“Okoto is in the throes of destruction. That which I and my masks began so many years ago are now coming to a head. The Mask Maker City convulses under the grip of Kulta, while the island villages shudder under wave after wave of the Lord of Skull Spiders and his Skull Spiders. Umarak and his Shadow Tramps redouble their hunt to capture his fated prey—and Umarak’s other form and the Shadow Hordes remain dormant. And you and your Lost Souls ready yourselves as you prepare for the gate to open.

“My time is at hand.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Wave after wave of my legions sweep down. And nothing will stand before me. Now, leave me. And lead my unwitting servant to realize these plans himself.”

“Yes sir.”

Prectus bowed his head reverently and left. The figure in the dark watched him go.

Locked in this temple as he was, he had to live vicariously through these, his servants. Imprisoned as he was, he could not achieve his ends himself. He had created these, his servants to become what he could not be, but they had not the same ambition as himself. So he reached out, drove others to create masks that would serve him, and used the masks to drive others astray.

The Mask of Ultimate Power and the Mask of the Unnatural Union. From these stemmed all else.

Yes, he reflected. After so many years of waiting, it was finally time to enact his plan for judgement.

He was a god. And he deluded mortals with the idea that they could take their place among him and the others. Makuta and his brother were only the latest ones.

The Ehra, the Vahi, and the Ignika had scoffed at it. But the Pandora, Mask of the Knowledge of Good and Evil was stronger than all of them. Space, Time, and Life were taken for granted by the Okotans. But Knowledge… knowledge is power. And it was not hard to infect their minds, to corrupt them with a desire for more. They delude themselves that the more they know, the happier they would be.

In the depths of the chamber, tendrils of energy erupted from the Mask, the Pandora to form a makeshift body, glowing in all varieties of bright, neon colors. The Pandora stepped forth. It had taken too long to craft the hordes, but now that they were, they could enact its destruction. But they were not fit to lead themselves; they required someone unique, someone that could lead. Someone with ambition.

Someone like Makuta.

And yet, the Pandora did not have to invest too much stock in this effort. Should Makuta fail, should even Ekimu fail, it would continue to exist. Like the other three legendary masks, it could not be destroyed. The first Okotans had learned that the hard way. The Pandora would continue to wreak havoc from behind its many veils, as was its nature, time and time again, until at last no land stood that had not felt its touch and no one existed that did not serve its whims. Then the vengeance of the Pandora against its siblings would be complete. Even the Great Beings would bow before it.

This is the truth that shouts and cries but lies in the dark.

Characters

 * Umarak
 * Kulta
 * Lord of Skull Spiders
 * Prectus
 * Pandora

Trivia

 * This story began when Gonel, a few days before the close of the Okoto contest, was trying to do homework but wanted to do anything else. After much consideration, he decided to start the story showcasing all of G2’s minor antagonists at a point where they would all come in contact. Eventually, because there had been no original premise in mind as he began, this evolved into a story setting the foundations for most of the villainy in G2 and shedding a different light on the creation myth in Lies in the Light (mostly found in chapter 6).


 * The section’s three parts each generally revolve around the three main minor antagonists, or the secondary antagonists of each year in G2: Umarak, Kulta, and Prectus.


 * In spite of the deliberate ambiguity of Lies in the Light, this story (and its narrator) are comfortably certain that Pandora is the true source of villainy in G2. Although this somewhat counters the main theme of Lies in the Light, it is still, in my opinion, closer to what I imagine would be the full truth.


 * The final sentence is the same quote Makuta uses in Chapter 7 of Lies in the Light. However, where the irony of his usage of the quote is that even he does not truly know the truth, here it is used accurately as the Pandora is the true manipulator, the one who controls the Mask of Ultimate Power and the Mask of the Unnatural Union, and consequentially the one who masters Makuta, Ekimu, and those who answer to them directly or indirectly. The Pandora’s purpose is destruction for destruction’s sake, and everyone involved in this, even the Toa to large extent, are unwittingly carrying out its whims. Only the Toa return to the stars once their mission is done, where the conflict on Okoto continues (and even builds to some degree).


 * Because Invader’s Dark Trilogy showcases Umarak truly joining Makuta’s fold at the end of Pushing Back the Dark, this story was written in such a way that he does not join immediately—simply for the sake of compatibility.


 * The interactions of Kulta and the Lord of Skull Spiders were based on the interactions of C3PO and R2-D2. I suppose that makes Umarak BB-8.


 * Despite sharing a title with Cryoshell’s 2008 song (arguably where the title comes from), this story is unrelated to it.