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This article was written by Lord Grimlock. Please do not add to it without the writer's permission.
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| Rebel Lines | |
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| Story | |
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9 ADS
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N/A
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Rebel Stand
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Rebel Lines is the first story in the Kryptos Magna Arc. It takes place on Kryptos Magna, specifically in the outskirts of Mortis Magna.
Story[]
Part 1[]
Chapter 1[]
Rikta stood in the remains of what was once a great city. Walls were crumbling, lifeless bodies littered the ground, and the sky was black with clouds.
Words could not describe the horrors Rikta had seen during his life, and yet this one made those look like a Naming Day celebration. The remains of the city made it look like a war had occurred, but only one being was responsible for the carnage.
Miserix.
The very thought made Rikta’s fists clench, and anger began to boil up inside him. Here he stood, in a once proud city, now turned to mere ashes because of him. If only he hadn’t come here, then everything would be different.
He felt a hand on his shoulder. He knew without a doubt who it was.
“Go away, Axor,” Rikta said. “I just want to be alone.”
“Listen, Rikta,” Axor said. “This isn’t your fault. There was nothing you could do.”
“Yes I could have!” Rikta said, his anger surfacing. “I could have stayed at the camp.”
“Rikta!” Axor said sharply. “Control your feelings. Anger is not the Toa way.”
Rikta sighed, and then nodded. “You’re right.”
Axor nodded. “Now let us return. There is nothing more we can do here.”
The two turned away from the scene of destruction, and began the long trek home. Neither noticed the small rahi scuttle down from its perch and pick its way across the debris, and hurry away.
Hours later, the rahi arrived at its destination. Scuttling up the wall, it climbed into the throne room. The rahi had never entered this grand chamber before, and it stopped to marvel at the beauteous tapestries that lined the walls.
Deciding it would be better to get its job over with, the Rahi continued on its present course. It arrived at the throne and lowered its head. A massive hand reached down and grabbed it.
A squeal escaped the rahi’s mouth, earning a chuckle from the being that held it.
“What news do you bring for me, little one?” Miserix chuckled as he waved over an attendant.
The attendant carried over a crimson pillow, upon which rested a black Suletu. Miserix took the mask and placed it over his other one. Then he closed his eyes and focused. The rahi began to twitch and squeal in pain, but Miserix refused to release it.
Suddenly, Miserix’s eyes flew open, and he threw the rahi against the wall.
“How?” he screamed. “How could he have survived? I KILLED HIM!”
He torn the Suletu from his face and slammed it to the ground. The mask shattered, and the attendant hurried to clean up the mess. Miserix grabbed the attendant by the throat, causing her to gasp for air.
“I KILLED HIM! HE SHOULD BE DEAD!” he screamed at the innocent being in his hand.
Without a second thought, he tightened his grip, breaking the attendant’s neck. He hurled the dead body out the window and marched towards the doors.
Outside the throne room, a guard stood, oblivious to the events that had just occurred.
Miserix jabbed a finger at him. “You! Tell the General to gather his forces and march on the rebels. Leave no one alive.”
The startled guard obeyed, and Miserix laughed as he watched the guard go. The rebels would finally be crushed, and he would become the undisputed leader of Kryptos Magna.
Chapter 2[]
The two Toa arrived at their headquarters a mere twenty minutes after the rahi had completed his trek. They had found that nothing major had occurred during their mission, and that everyone was safe.
Rikta then related the events of the mission. When he told of the destruction and horror he had seen, gasps could be heard around the ground.
“But Miserix’s plan failed,” Rikta said. “He didn’t kill me, and he only strengthened our resolve to fight. Because we are free! And we will never surrender.”
Rikta’s passionate speech was met by cheers and applause. He nodded his thanks to the others, and walked over into the caves. Sitting by the door was a small Ga-Matoran, sharpening her blade on a stone.
“Nice speech,” she said, not bothering to look up from her work.
“Thanks,” Rikta replied, leaning back against the other side of the cave.
“But you do know it’s hopeless,” she said. “We can never beat him. He’s just too powerful.”
Rikta’s gaze fell to the floor. “I know.”
The Matoran finally looked up from her blade. “Then why do you do it?”
“Because of them, Sara,” he said, gesturing towards the rebels outside. “This is all they have to live for. I can’t just take that away from them.”
Sara nodded, and then returned to her work. “That’s one reason.”
Rikta looked up. “What, that wasn’t good enough for you?”
“No, I just know you well enough to know that there’s more to the story.”
“Well there isn’t!” Rikta snapped. “That’s all there is, so get used to it.”
He stormed down the tunnel, furious. Did she know? Or was it a lucky guess?
He entered his room and locked the door. He plopped down onto his sorry excuse for a bed. It was made of bales of hay, held together by strands of web. He didn’t care. He’d had to sleep on much worse than hay in his many years of life.
As he lay, his mind drifted, and he began to remember his last day with her.
They had just left for the city of Stile. It was peaceful and calm and nothing could bother him. He, Axor, and Xam were cheery and happy. A few hours later they arrived in Stile. Xam was so amazed by the designs carved into the walls. It was so beautiful, and so peaceful. They paid for two rooms at a nearby hotel. Axor entered his room and said he’d meet them the next day.
He and Xam had sat on the couch, enjoying the silence and making use of their time alone. They had a lovely dinner. Xam had decided to go to bed early, so Rikta decided to take a walk. The city was different at night, but just as lovely as in the day. He met Axor at the market, who said that he had been buying some food for breakfast. The two walked together, and eventually reached the coast. They sat on the sand for a while and talked.
Rikta had decided to head back and Axor accompanied him. When they were halfway back to the city, it happened.
Buildings began to explode, people began to panic, fleeing their houses and heading for the ocean. Rikta charged into the inferno, heading towards the hotel. In their room’s window he saw Xam waving frantically.
He had yelled at her to get out, but she appeared to be rooted to the spot. Crashing through the window, he grabbed her and carried her out of the city. Axor saw him and rushed to assist him. They had laid Xam down on the grass and tried to help her. She looked up at Rikta and placed her hand on his chest.
“Before I die, know that I truly and deeply love you, dear Rikta. Never forget that I love you.”
She breathed her last breath, and her heartlight blinked out. Xam had died that night and Rikta could only sit there and watch.
Rikta and Axor had buried her in a nearby forest, leaving only a small mound of rocks to mark her grave.
After her death, Rikta spent days hunting for the being that had killed her. He found his answer in the ruins of Stile. The city had been attacked by Miserix, the Emperor of Mortis Magna. He had conquered Rikta’s homeland, and he had destroyed Stile to do it.
From that day on, Rikta vowed he would bring Miserix to justice for his crimes. Even if it meant losing his life, he would do it.
A knock on the door brought Rikta back to the present. He unlocked the door and let his guest in.
“Rikta,” Axor began. “We need to talk.”
“About what?” Rikta said.
“I think you know what.”
“And I think you, of all people, should know that I don’t talk about that.”
“Still, you will never be the Toa you need to be until you put the past aside,” Axor pushed. “Think of the rebellion. Think of those lives you put at risk by ignoring this issue. If you ever meet Miserix in battle, you will need a clear conscious. Otherwise, your anger will be your demise.”
Rikta turned to Axor. “You don’t know what it’s like. You’ve never lost someone close to you because you never had a family!”
Rikta could tell his words hurt Axor, and he wanted to apologize, but he couldn’t. He just stood there and watched his best friend leave the room.
Rikta walked out to the center of camp and looked around. Most of the rebels would be in their rooms by now. The ones that lingered were on guard or just edgy.
He glanced around the valley he had come to call home. They would have to leave soon, as Miserix’s spies had probably pinpointed there location by now. He would tell the other tomorrow morning.
He nodded as he walked past the sentries and entered the stables. He hopped up onto a Kikanalo and rode off into the night.
The moon shone and the sky was clear. The stars shined down on Rikta, lighting his path. He traveled down the path that had now become a familiar sight. He reached a clearing and dismounted, then walked towards the mound of stone in the center.
He knelt before the stones and looked at the ground in front of him.
“Xam,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to avenge you before this day. Tomorrow the rebellion and I must leave, and I may never be able to visit you again. But rest assured your death will not go unpunished.”
He spent an hour there, reminiscing. After he had finished, he got to his feet and remounted his Kikanalo. He rode away from the grave, unable to bear the pain ay longer. He let the Kikanalo walk instead of rushing it as he normally did.
As he neared the camp, he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. He spun around to see a dark mass moving towards him. He then realized his foolishness. The second Miserix knew he had failed to kill Rikta, he would send an army to eliminate the rebels.
“YAH!” he yelled as he spurred his Kikanalo forward.
He charged into camp with his ax drawn.
“We’re under attack!” he yelled.
The rebels poured from the caves, weapons ready.
“Friends, Toa, Matoran! We have been discovered by Miserix. His armies march towards us at this very moment! We must stand against the tyrant’s forces and show him we are a force to be reckoned with! We will make a stand against evil, and live to fight another day!”
Rikta’s call to battle lit a fire inside his comrades’ heartlights. They charged from the valley, starling the Rahkshi and Makuta who had been expecting to see fleeing rebels. This provided Rikta’s force a chance to reach their opponents before anyone could fire a shot.
Rikta plunged into the opposing ranks, swinging his ax like a club, sending heads rolling and spewing essence everywhere. Beside him, Axor swung his mace, bashing and smashing whatever he could. Rikta hoped his force was doing well, but he could not pause to check.
Suddenly, the Kikanalo fell out from under Rikta, dumping him into the midst of the battle. Rahkshi swarmed him, making it impossible to return to his force. He blocked one swipe only to fall victim to another’s. He crumpled to the ground, grabbing at his arm.
The Rahkshi who had struck him raised its staff, ready to kill, when its Kraata gave a small scream. Rikta was using his elemental power to melt the Kraata. The Rahkshi froze, and then fell to pieces. Rikta grabbed its staff and jumped to his feet. He twirled the staff like a baton, killing the Rahkshi stupid enough to approach him.
Seeing his ax, he jumped through a gap in his opponents and grabbed it. He spun back towards the Rahkshi and the fight resumed. He swung his ax and stabbed his staff, cutting down Rahkshi after Rahkshi. Reaching the middle of the fight, he saw his comrades were fighting like warriors. Giving them a nod, he charged back into the fight.
A little to his left he saw a tall Makuta swinging his hammer at Sara, who did not appear to be in a position to dodge. Rikta hurled his staff at the Makuta’s head, sending it through the head and into a Rahkshi. The Makuta turned to Rikta and began to charge, but his wound was fatal. The Makuta collapsed before he could reach the Toa. Sara gave him a nod, and then vanished in the crowd of Rahkshi.
Rikta glanced over towards the commanding Makuta. The Makuta seemed uneasy, probably because h hadn’t expected any resistance. Rikta charged him.
The enemy commander was ready, holding his massive clubs, ready to bash Rikta to bits the second he got close enough. But Rikta was ready, and hurled his ax at the Makuta. The latter responded by hitting the ax out of the air, and then charged Rikta.
Rikta dove under the club and flipped, kicking the Makuta in the head as he did so. Rikta landed on the other side of the Makuta only to be kicked in the back. The Makuta stood over Rikta, who was now sprawled on the ground. He laughed.
“Did you really think you could beat us?” the Makuta asked mockingly. “You are just a small band of rebels, and we are an army of armies. You cannot stand against us.”
“Your right,” Rikta said. “But we can still try.”
He pushed himself to his feet and jumped out of the way just as the Makuta’s club crashed into the ground where he had just been. As the Makuta turned, Rikta darted into the crowded battlefield. The Makuta glanced around, unable to find where Rikta had gone to.
From behind the Makuta came a fierce battle cry. Rikta was charging, a staff in each hand. He plunged the staffs into his adversary’s back, causing the Makuta to slump to the ground.
The Rahkshi looked at each other, unsure of what to do without a leader. One of the Makuta noticed their confusion and yelled “RETREAT!”
The Rahkshi turned and ran, leaving the exhausted rebels behind. Rikta turned to his army.
“You see?” he yelled. “They flee. We made them flee! We have shown Miserix that we will not be scared into submission. We will stand our ground, and we will fight!”
The rebels cheered, and began to search the battlefield for anything that could be of use, from weapons to food.
Rikta walked over Axor and asked, “How many did we lose?”
Axor glanced at Rikta. “I’d say about fifty,” he replied.
Rikta sighed. “I wish there was another way to do this. We don’t have enough numbers to lose that many.”
“Numbers do not win a battle, Rikta. Neither do they win a war. We must be strong, and we must believe. Only then can we retake Kryptos Magna. Then and only then.”
Chapter 3[]
The rebels marched across the desert in a ragged single file line. The sun shone hotly upon them, making every move require more energy. Groups of Toa of Water were using their abilities to collect drinking water, but there was barely any water to collect.
Axor walked up to Rikta. “We can’t go on like this,” he said.
Rikta nodded. “I know. But there is nothing we can do. We’re surrounded by desert for miles in each direction. There’s no where else to go.”
The ragged line continued. Rikta hung his head as he saw his comrades grow weaker by the hour.
A gasp to his right caused Rikta to turn, only to see one of the Ga-Matoran sprawled in the sand. He jumped from is Kikanalo and hurried over to the fallen Matoran. When he arrived, he found Sara kneeling over the Matoran.
“What happened?” he asked.
Sara looked up. “She collapsed of exhaustion,” Sara said. “She’s unconscious right now.”
“Can you do anything?” Rikta asked anxiously.
“Not until I’ve assed her condition,” Sara responded. “But she can’t be moved. That might make her worse.”
“But I can’t order a halt. We may never get going again.”
“Then you must leave us,” Sara said solemnly.
Rikta looked around. “I’ll stay.” He waved Axor over.
“Yes?” said the Toa of Magnetism.
“I need you to stay with the group, get them to safety,” Rikta said. “Understand?”
Axor lowered his head. “Yes, brother. I will make sure they make it to safety.”
Rikta watched as his friend walked towards the slowly moving procession. Then he turned to Sara.
“Let’s see what we can do.”
Hours past, and the Matoran’s condition worsened. Drifting in and out of consciousness, she became less and less alert. Then, as Rikta and Sara watched helplessly, her heartlight went out.
Sara collapsed, her fatigue finally catching up with her. Rikta just stared at the corpse. Another of his brave followers had died a pointless death. A death he could have prevented.
Rikta reached down and nudged Sara. “I know you’re tired,” he said. “But we need to get going.”
Sara nodded weakly, and then climbed to her feet. Together the two walked away from the dead Matoran, who was already half buried by sand.
The moon was high in the sky when Rikta finally found a suitable place to spend the night. It was a giant rock, standing tall and erect in the middle of the endless sea of sand. About two bios above the ground, a slab of rock jutted out. The outcropping made decent cover, and Rikta was not in the mood to look for better shelter.
The two huddled together under the rock. The absence of wood made it almost impossible to start a fire, so the best they could do was to conserve their body heat.
“Sara,” Rikta said. “Did you know that Matoran?”
Sara turned her head towards Rikta, her emerald eyes peering up at his. “Yes,” she replied. “Se was my sister.”
“Oh,” Rikta replied, turning his gaze towards the cloudless sky. “I’m sorry.”
Sara sighed. “I never got the chance to know her. Now I wish I had made time.”
The two sat in silence, slowly drifting into the land of dreams.
Axor turned towards the remaining rebels. The group was weary, and wouldn’t make it much farther. They had already lost six more of their number to dehydration and fatigue. By his best estimates, Axor determined that they only had a few hours left until they couldn’t go any further.
A green armored Toa walked up to Axor. “Please quick-pardon my interruption,” he said. “But I was think-wondering; wouldn’t it be a smart-wise idea to quick-send scouts ahead? To look-search for liquid-water and shelter?”
Axor turned. “Good idea,” the silver armored Toa responded. “Make it so.”
The Toa nodded, and then turned towards the group. He picked out two others, a Matoran and a Vortixx, and the three ran ahead of the main body.
Axor watched them go, and then turned back to the others. To his surprise, he saw another being walking towards him, this one a Ta-Martoran.
“You’re letting Paka lead a scouting expedition?” he asked, an amused look on his face.
“It gives the rookie something to do,” Axor replied. “You know how restless he gets.”
The Ta-Matoran snorted. “Don’t remind me, Axor.”
Axor’s face turned grim. “How long do you think we can keep this up, Warron?”
Warron’s expression matched Axor’s. “Not much longer,” he replied. “But we really need help.”
The group moved on, and there was no sign of water. Then, a few hours later, Paka’s group returned with giddy looks on there faces.
“What is it Paka?” Axor asked.
“Well…” the Le-Toa began. “We were look-searching for supplies, and we found a group-crowd of nomad-wonderers. They asked if we quick-needed liquid-water!”
Axor’s eyes narrowed. “Where are these ‘nomad-wanderers’?” he asked.
Paka pointed south. Axor nodded, and turned to Warron. “Warron, assemble some troops,” he ordered. “I hope these desert dwellers are friendly, but be ready for battle.”
Warron nodded, and called over a few of the more experienced warriors. Axor briefed them of the situation, and then turned back to Warron. “You will stay here and command our main force. Continue to move forward, unless I signal otherwise. We may need backup.”
Warron nodded and returned to the group.
Axor looked at his small force. It consisted of a Steltian, two Agori, a Ko-Matoran, and a Toa. “Let’s go,” he said.
The party moved out, peeling away from their comrades. They quickly reached the party of ‘nomad-wanderers’.
The nomads appeared to be mostly comprised of Hanu, a small, sturdy species native to hot, desert-like areas. There were roughly twenty Hanu, with a few Kikanalo used to carry their supplies.
Axor stepped towards the group. “May I speak to your leader?” he asked in his most dignified voice.
The crowd of Hanu separated, and a being stepped forth. The being was tall, with red armor. He carried a wrist blade and a strange looking launcher. His head was similar to that of a Rahkshi’s, and his eyes shone a dark blue. A long scar ran across his cheek.
“What do you want,” the being said in a cold, hard voice. He was obviously a battle-hardened warrior who did not want to be annoyed.
“We only want provisions and directions,” Axor replied. “Then we will be on our way.”
The red being scowled, his helmet’s mouth piece curling in disgust. “And why would I give you anything?”
“Because if you don’t, we’ll take it from you by force,” Axor responded, drawing his mace.
The red being chuckled. “You obviously haven’t heard of me, Toa. I am Zytar, bounty hunter and infamous warrior. You would do well to avoid a fight with me.”
Axor’s grip on his mace tightened. He had indeed heard of Zytar, the famed Rahkshi bounty hunter. He had been on of Miserix’s top lieutenants until he went rouge, making a living by taking jobs of any sort. It was rumored that Zytar had never failed to complete a job.
“Zytar,” Axor said. “What are you doing here, leading a group of Hanu?”
“It pays,” the bounty hunter responded.
“Well, then,” Axor said. “How much do you want for the supplies?”
“They’re not for sale.”
“Pity. I had hoped we could reach an agreement.”
“I don’t do agreements.”
“Very well,” Axor replied. “I didn’t want to have to do this, but you leave me no choice. ATTACK!”
The small group of rebels charged the Hanu, who scattered in fright. Only Zytar remained motionless. “Fine,” he snarled and charged his adversaries.
Axor met Zytar’s blade with his mace, sending sparks everywhere. He was determined to keep the bounty hunter busy while the others captured the Kikanalo with the supplies.
Zytar feinted to the right then slammed his right fist into Axor’s chin. The silver Toa used the momentum to perform a back flip and swung his mace towards Zytar. The Rahkshi ducked under the attack and lunged at Axor’s exposed legs. He didn’t get far before being kicked in the face, causing him to crumple to the ground.
Zytar’s body lay limp in the sand. Axor approached him cautiously. Suddenly, Zytar fired his weapon, causing the sand below Axor to explode. Zytar climbed to his feet and readied his blade. He approached the crater his weapon had made. Axor was hanging from the edge, his mace in on hand.
“Goodbye, Toa,” the Rahkshi said as he slammed his foot down on Axor’s hand. The Toa screamed in pain and plummeted down. He hit the bottom with a thud.
The team had gathered up the Kikanalo and began to hurry them back to the main force. At the sound of the explosion, the Ko-Matoran looked back. She saw Zytar aiming his weapon into the crater. Her eyes narrowed, and she charged the bounty hunter. She reached him, just as he was about to fire. She knocked him down, causing the gun to misfire.
When the smoke cleared, there was no sign of Zytar. The Ko-Matoran turned to the crater and threw down a rope. Axor grabbed it and painfully lifted himself out of the crater.
“Thanks,” he said.
“Always a pleasure,” the Ko-Matoran responded. “Though you really should learn to take better care of yourself.”
“You’re one to talk, Meela,” Axor said.
Meela snorted, then suddenly spun to her right. A lone Hanu ducked back under the dune. Meela marched over and grabbed the little creature by its neck.
“Why were you watching us?” she asked, her voice dripping with venom.
The Hanu struggled, but could not free himself from Meela’s grip. Meela threw him to the ground and then drew her blade, the point almost touching his neck.
“Meela!” Axor said sternly. “Let the poor thing go!”
Meela pulled her blade away, but held it at her side, ready to use it at a moments notice. Meanwhile, Axor stepped forward and but a hand on the little Hanu’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry about my companion,” he said. “She can be a bit...exasperating at times.”
The Hanu glanced behind Axor at Meela, who scowled at him. The Hanu quickly turned back towards Axor.
“What is your name, little one?” the Toa of Magnetism asked.
“Kama,” he said quietly.
“Ok Kama, I need to ask you a couple questions. Is that ok?”
The Hanu nodded.
“Question number one: Where did you come from?”
“We came from the ruins to the south.”
Axor nodded. “Good. Now, where were you going?”
“We had heard rumors of a larger clan up north, so we were moving to join them.”
“This is the final question. Why did you hire Zytar to protect you?”
Kama’s eyes went wide. “I-I can’t tell you that,” he said in a fearful voice.
Axor was just about to ask “Why?” when he heard a shout from behind him. “RAHKSHI!”
Chapter 4[]
TBA
Characters[]
(In order of appearance)
Notes[]
- Not only does Rebel Lines start the Kryptos Magna Arc, it also begins the Rebellion Sub-Arc, which is planned to consist of five novels
- In Chapter 2, Rikta's call to arms begins with "Friends, Toa, Matoran!". This is a reference to Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, specifically Mark Antony's speech in Act III, Scene II, when he says "Friends, Romans, Countrymen..."