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This article was written by BobTheDoctor27. Please do not add to it without the writer's permission.
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| The Things We Bury | |
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| Story | |
| Setting |
Okoto: Region of Fire
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| Date Set |
Present Day
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| Timeline | |
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The Things We Bury is a short story set in the Region of Fire. It takes place within the Second Generation storyline.
Story[]
“...Duty. Destiny. These are words to live by, the founding principles of our forefathers, and their fathers before them that continue to shape the society of Okoto to this present day.”
Narmoto, the Protector of Fire, finished speaking and stopped in his tracks, pausing to regard the landscape below. The incline of the volcano was steep and he was neither as young nor as virile as he had once been in years prior. He would need a moment to catch his breath. To orientate himself and decide how much further he would need to climb. Or, more accurately, to recall the next chapter in his pre-prepared speech on the subject of heroism. This was as good a place as any to regather his thoughts.
Behind him strode his travelling companion; Tahu, the Master of Fire himself. Although ill-trained and alien to the world he had found himself in, the warrior made a formidable impression. It were as though his chest had been engraved from the cobbles of a paved street, his expression hewn from granite, and his broad arms carved from the thickest tree trunks in the neighboring jungle region. Although it was perfectly legitimate to say he was a born leader, it was by no means a sufficient summation of his true magnificence. Power these days came in no short commodity, but Tahu appeared to be hefting it by the bucketful.
With a weary grin on his lips, the Protector took a step closer to the cliff edge and redirected his gaze to the valley below.
“These three principles – virtues, if you will – have become synonymous with the Okotan way of life. We are a simple people with few worldly desires beyond day-to-day survival. We tend to our land and live long, fulfilling lives.”
For the best part of a day they had been ascending the volcano in search of the golden Mask of Fire, an ancient artifact hidden centuries ago in anticipation of Tahu’s eventual arrival. In his more youthful days, back when he’d had the dignity of his own name and all sense of responsibility could be so innocently prolonged, Narmoto had attempted to retrieve the mask himself. Scores of hardened warriors had set off in search of the glory. But their efforts had inevitably and continuously been in vain.
“I see,” murmured the Master of Fire guardedly. “These virtues – the pillars of your society – I take it they extend to other settlements as well?”
“Of course,” said Narmoto with a nod. “There are six regions of Okoto, each peopled by a different tribe but united in our desire to uphold these three founding principles. We are builders. Crafters. Honest laborers. A goodly people.”
“You desire to be the best though? To craft weapons and tools of a higher quality than the other regions?”
“No, Tahu,” chuckled the Protector. “Although ours is a civilization that traces its foundation back to the earliest moments of known history we have no desire for rivalry. While the six tribes divide us we exist as one people. The immeasurable magnificence of the Okotan spirit can be seen from this. We are not satisfied with the fulfillment of prideful ambition. We wish for no superior and no equal. That status belonged to the great Ekimu alone.”
Turning his attention back to the landscape before him, the Protector of Fire could see his homeland sprawled out in its entirety, with tufts of emerald trees far off on the horizon. There were patches of dark, igneous rock mixed in with brimstone and rock plateaus. A complex tapestry of rich, vivid colors. The land was characterized by a mighty river of molten lava, which stretching down to the southern-most point of Okoto, where it met the ocean and cooled. The whole stream of molten liquid resembled an immense snake uncoiled.
No response. The Master of Fire was probably taking in the sheer enormity of the immortal view. Captivated by the unique, destructive beauty of a landscape shaped by lava.
“Our settlement is a homely one,” he continued. “I rather think you will enjoy it there, once you have completed your quest and retrieved your golden mask.”
Still no response. Not even a grunt in acknowledgement.
Narmoto’s brow creased into a furrow. Slowly, he turned to face the Master of Fire, wondering what strange spectacle had silenced his traveling companion.
The Toa was standing loosely on his feet, Lavaboard in hand. Nothing at all suspicious until the Protector’s old eyes focused to spot Tahu’s Mask of Fire lying at his feet, empty. It eyeholes were hollow and ghostly.
A lump began to sprout in his throat at the sight of the abandoned mask. Against his better judgment, Narmoto’s eyes drifted upwards, past the Toa’s powerful thighs, over his brawny chest, up to the head that rested between his powerful shoulders. His worst fears had been realized as soon as he locked eyes with the Master of Fire.
Skull Spider.
Without a moment of hesitation, the Protector drew a step back and tensed. He had been distracted for only a few seconds. In that time a Skull Spider had managed to latch itself onto the mighty Toa, knitting its twisted legs around his startled face and taking root. It couldn’t have been there for more than a minute, which was only somewhat reassuring. There was still the matter of removing it before Tahu lost the will to overcome the creature’s control.
Skull Spider attacks occurred frequently enough. They were vermin that attached themselves to the faces of villagers who wandered too far from the confines of their homes. He had removed many in his lifetime, almost always with brute force. The longer a Skull Spider remained attached to its host, the harder it was to remove them.
But Tahu was, of course, no average villager. The Protector could not wrestle him to the ground and tear the Skull Spider off. He couldn’t even reach up to touch the Master of Fire’s face. There was always the option of firing his Elemental Fire Blaster but he had no guarantee of accurately shooting the creature off without piercing the Toa’s skull.
Narmoto could only watch as the Skull Spider grafted itself to Tahu’s face. Their eyes aligned and a hole opened up in the creature’s shell, fixing to the rim of the Toa’s mouth. The desperate twinkle of shock slowly began to ebb away, receding deeper within until it was finally consumed entirely.
“Who do I speak to?” demanded the Protector of Fire coldly, calling upon every ounce of gravitas he could muster. “A Skull Spider? Your master? Or do I speak directly to Makuta himself? It is so hard to keep track of what you’re calling yourself these days.”
The Skull Spider’s legs twitched and Master of Fire’s head tilted.
“At long last I have one of your ill-fated heroes within my clutches. Today is indeed a dark day for your Wall of History, little one.”
The words came from Tahu’s mouth but it was not fair to say he had uttered them. For the words themselves were not his own. Even in a different voice, Narmoto recognized the speaker instantly.
“You,” he muttered darkly, his hands clenching into fists around his Flame Swords.
“Me.”
There was a long moment of unpleasant silence. Tahu’s eyes were elsewhere as the creature dug deeper into his head.
“It has been some time since our last encounter,” gurgled the figure that was not Tahu. “You have aged considerably, and I see you now bear your father’s mask. I wonder what has become of him.”
The Protector said nothing.
“I suppose, therefore, that you are the new Protector of Fire,” cooed the false Tahu. “You rose to take up the mantle at the cost of your own name. A shame. I cannot respect an adversary who is not true to his name.”
“A noble sentiment,” snapped Narmoto, “but your words fall short when spoken from the lips of a body you have stolen. You are in no position to lecture me about identity.”
Tahu’s shoulders ascended then sagged heavily. A shrug.
“I see many blank spaces in the mind of this Toa,” he murmured darkly. “What little memory he does have is a complex patchwork of fractured images and sounds. But, mostly, there is ignorance. Utter ignorance.”
Again, the Protector said nothing.
Tahu’s body shifted to overlook the molten landscape, his Lavaboard tucked lazily under his arm as his chest thickened.
“Many questions are bubbling on the surface of his mind. So many of them fundamental. So few of them relevant. I wonder how you have truly told your champion hero so little that you have not revealed the nature of his quest or the detriment of your ambitions. So many lies and inaccuracies. Such devilish vagueness and trickery. I wonder if anything you have told him is in fact true.”
Narmoto gritted his teeth, trying desperately not to rise to the trap. The more he spoke, the stronger the Skull Spider’s grip became on Tahu. He had seen the creatures clamp themselves to the heads of villagers with such penetrating force that they would sooner split the host’s skull than be separated. The temptation to argue back would cost him valuable minutes that could be better spent tearing spider from skull. But his patience had finally run thin.
“I have told Tahu as much as need concern him,” retorted the Protector. “Certain details have, of course, been left out of my account. Secrets have been kept to ensure his trust and loyalty.”
The Skull Spider rotated from side to side as Tahu shook his head.
“You have lied to your heroes,” continued the figure in possession of the Master of Fire. “The real villainy is that you Protectors have tried to sway the Toa to your own cause rather than let them represent true justice.”
Narmoto shrugged idly, mimicking his adversary’s earlier gesture. “This misinformation is understandable in my position, wouldn’t you agree? It is, after all, in my interests to have my people protected from the constant harassment of your spiders, is it not?”
A solid blow connected with the Protector’s jaw. His head snapped to the side and he stumbled back, falling heavily on the rim of the path, teetering on the very edge of the cliff. The taste of blood was thick in his mouth and the world was spinning by the time he managed to pull himself back up.
Tahu had lashed out at him with the flat of his Lavaboard. A physical blow that had sent Narmoto down to his knees. The Skull Spider’s eyes blazed an ireful crimson.
“You have deceived them!” bristled the possessed Toa darkly, his voice animated by the fury of another. “You have pined away and appealed with false sympathy, robbed me of the opportunity to justify my means. You have painted me the villain in this picture!”
The Protector said nothing. This time he smiled.
The Skull Spider’s features twisted into a snarl before gazing back out into the distance, its eyes keenly trained upon the center of the island.
“It matters not. The Toa will surely see through your deception. Their virtuous natures will put them at odds with the circumstances you have tried to mold them to. You may have pushed them onto an opposing path, but they will not stay there for long. They will outgrow your falsehood and soon they will regard the inherent wickedness of your ways.”
The Protector of Fire shrugged once again.
“I will one day administer the truth to the Masters and explain their role in person. On that day, when the natural order of things has been restored and your damage undone, we will have no need of secrets. There will be peace and prosperity in Okoto again and it will be my doing. Not yours.”
One of the Skull Spider’s legs twitched, as if it were a vein sprouting on his opponent’s forehead.
“Do you know how many wayward villagers have told me that exact story before meeting their ends?” bristled the false Master of Fire. “I have heard this tale of my transgressions – sins that are not my own – told dozens of times and I grow wearier upon each telling.”
The Lavaboard was flung aside and Tahu took a heavy step forward. His movements were incoherent and clumsy, but he wobbled closer to the edge regardless.
“Choose your next words carefully,” gurgled the possessed Toa. “For, if you pick the wrong ones, I will command your precious Master of Fire to jump to his death. He’ll tumble a while, maybe hitting a rock or two, perhaps even breaking his neck, before finally slumping into the magma. You will return empty-handed, your village’s champion dead under your charge. Whatever remnants of a name you have left will be irrevocably tainted.”
Narmoto glared deep into the wild eyes of the Skull Spider, heeding neither the weight nor the severity of his threat.
“You need the Toa to fulfil your purposes just as much as I need him to defend my village. This is a hollow threat, villain.”
“That is entirely possible,” grinned the imposter, his tone dripping with an eerie menace as he dangled Tahu’s left foot over the abyss. “But I have long-since lost my regard for proper reasoning. While you have tainted these Masters with lies and half-truths I have a merciful nature.”
The Protector said nothing.
“I will allow your Toa to live, if only for my own entertainment,” mused the pretender through stolen lips. “There is little to gain in killing him so early, nor is there profit in his fellow Masters seeking revenge on his behalf. I will not legitimize your fabrications or reduce myself to the petty monster you have presented me as.”
The Skull Spider twitched once more and Tahu drew his leg back from the edge. The Master of Fire turned away from the cliff and strode closer, all the while maintaining solid eye contact with the village elder.
“Even though you endeavor to make this situation far more difficult that it need be, the Toa will succeed,” snarled Narmoto. “When the world is put back into balance I will gladly face the consequences of my misdeeds. But my sins are far outweighed by your own corruption, wretched Makuta!”
The possessed Toa cracked a sly smile at the mention of his name before turning his attention to the tip of the volcano. Far off, in the distance, loomed the outline of a temple. Their destination.
“You should hurry to the top, wise one,” he murmured. “Not that the golden Masks of Power will afford you much of an advantage. I have no intention of making it easy on your weary old bones.”
The Protector said nothing.
“Keep a more watchful eye over your son,” challenged the false Tahu, tilting his head upward and gazing down at the Okotan before him. “Bad things happen to village children who wander too far from home.”
The words rang out into silence. This time Narmoto had to restrain himself from retorting. Although the temptation to lash out with the foulest curses under the sun was strong, he bit down on his lip and controlled the urge.
Before his eyes the Skull Spider gurgled then twitched, prying its legs off of Tahu’s face one at a time. It struggled and wormed, unknitting itself from his mouth and finally tearing itself free, pouncing from its perch, then scurrying away.
The Master of Fire groaned then slumped to his knees, head in his hands. At long last his thoughts were his own again. The Protector watched the Skull Spider scurry away before plucking Tahu’s mask from the ground and returning it to him solemnly.
“Rise, Master of Fire,” he murmured, placing the Mask of Fire back in the hands of its owner. "We still have much ground to cover."
Tahu blinked innocently before taking the mask and pressing it back to his face, blinking as he wriggled into it then tensing as the magnetic clamps locked it into place.
“Protector, what – what happened?”
“The climb was a taxing one,” shrugged the village elder. “I suggested we stopped to catch our breath. You must have dozed off. Do you feel refreshed?”
“I – I don’t remember…”
The Toa of Fire glanced around, his brow knitted into a crease, observing the unfamiliar landscape with drunken coherence. Questions formed on his lips only to be silenced as Narmoto gestured towards the tip of the volcano with a Flame Blade.
“We should not dawdle too long in this spot. We must march onwards, for the forces of evil are gathering in monstrous attack.”
Tahu’s frown vanished from sight and his eyes widened at the change in tone. He was almost child-like in his expressions, completely ignorant to the grand schemes already in play. If his voice weren’t as deep as a cascade of tumbling rocks one could easily mistake him for an infant in the body of a hardened warrior.
That description rang worryingly true.
“Come, Tahu,” interjected the elder, shoving his doubts aside and taking the first decisive step forward. “Your golden mask awaits, and I have much to tell you about your island home.”
The Toa of Fire hesitated, glancing first at the path ahead then at the stunted crimson figure leading him down it, wondering if it was really somewhere he wanted to travel. In the end he decided to let the Protector lead him onwards. It was easier to let other people make his decisions for him. Easier to follow for a while than to lead.
As the two travelers continued their stride up the volcano, neither could help but turn their attention to the sky, marveling at its infinite majesty. Mist rolled in from the ocean, mixing with the sweltering heat and rising vapor to create coils of smoke. They hung above the Toa and his aide, looming ominously in the atmosphere.
Narmoto gazed up fearfully, spotting one particular cloud in the shape of half a mask, then looking away hurriedly. Silently, he prayed that Tahu wouldn’t notice it hanging lazily in the sky.
Characters[]
- Narmoto
- Tahu
- Makuta - Indirectly
- A Skull Spider
- Ekimu - Mentioned
- Narmoto's son - Mentioned
- Lord of Skull Spiders - Mentioned
Trivia[]
- For a large duration of the planning process, the story's working title was Seeds.
- The Things We Bury was purely the result of BobTheDoctor27 being over-exposed to the Tahu set over a four week period. After deciding he preferred the set with the Skull Spider attached, he resolved to write a story in which the Master of Fire became possessed.