#ohmeni and pysie

[toa-kohutti]

A Gift the Great Spirit Left Unnamed

Chapter 1: Arrival

A nomadic Toa of Lightning takes a stop at a small village on the coast of the Southern Continent in order to recover from her wounds. She quickly realizes that she got more than she bargained for when she meets the village's healer...

A love story from a world where there is no word for "love".

I breathed a heavy sigh of relief when I saw the village over the horizon. Being a nomadic Toa, my home and tribe long broken and scattered, getting respite was more important than ever. As I stepped up the hill, my lungs struggled through shaky, haphazard breaths, trying to avoid touching the shattered Rahi talons that embedded themselves in my flesh after the beast tore through my armor. I couldn’t remember the exact name of what struck me, but it had a venom on its cruel, shedding talons, and the throbbing pain of that poison in my muscles was impossible to ignore, slowly spreading to more of my war-torn body. The pain was worth it, though, always worth it, no matter when it happened. Saving three Matoran researchers, pinned in that cave by the Rahi, was worth it.  

The pain had put me on autopilot, and I was quietly subsumed by the dull state of mind that always comes along with pain. I had hardly noticed that I had arrived, but when stimuli overwhelmed the doldrums, I heard a rash of small sounds, followed by a curious stir. The sun was a few moments away from setting, and it seemed that I had interrupted their preparations for night. The soundscape was full of quiet whispers, which I didn’t have anywhere close to the concentration to focus on and interpret. Matoran turned from their paths or put their things aside, some sticking their heads out of their leaf-and-wood homes, all focused on me. Except for one. 

A Matoran in armor in a few shades of natural blues and painted highlights of orange, rushed up to me, panting a little as she did so. While I could see that other Matoran had painted armor in the village, hers was elaborate, and in patterns that were rare to see, with swirls and lines covering her as if she were a decoration herself. Her mask was no exception, with broad, flat bands running across the mask’s surface, with beautiful orange painted patterns upon them, like waves in sunset. She straightened herself before moving into a stiff, clearly unpracticed stance of respect, gently bending her knees and back, with her head pointed straight at the ground.  

“W-we welcome you, Toa of Lightning!” she said, a small nervous stammer in her voice. I was surprised she recognized my rarer element from my colors, something unusual for Matoran on more isolated settlements like this one. “On what occasion have you come to our humble Koro?” She looked up to me with a clear sense of anxiety mixed with a desire for approval, neither hidden by her unfamiliar, but beautiful mask. 

“I’m… just passing through.” I chose my words carefully, my pain giving me little mind for the rituals of respect that Matoran show for their guardian Toa, as much as I recognized and appreciated them. “And I need a place to rest.” My voice was marred by the shake of poorly concealed pain, and the Matoran before me’s expression changed from a nervous search for approval to sudden, knowing concern.  

“You’re hurt,” she said, matter-of-factly, all desire to continue the tradition of respect for Toa seemingly evaporated. “Please, come with me.” She took my hand in hers, only a tiny bit smaller than my own, and pulled me in the gentlest manner towards the village. “My Teacher and I can heal your wounds, at least for tonight.” She pointed to a larger, farther hut, and started to walk, guiding me like she was teaching a freshly built Matoran.  

I didn’t protest, any help to get the painful debris and venom out of me sounded like the greatest thing in the universe at that moment. But others in the village spoke in whispers again, the ornately-armored Matoran's behavior seemingly catching their disapproval. Usually, so-called "good Matoran" had respect for their Toa and didn't drag them around, but I found her abandoning politeness for the sake of my safety to be far more important, at least right now. Before reaching the hut, I saw a Turaga step forwards from her seat, a look of concern and confusion behind her mask, but little more as I bent over to fit under the door’s hole, talons twisting in my flesh, digging in and causing sharp, shooting pains I had to endure, a quiet hiss of pain exiting my mouth. I closed my eyes as I pushed into the hut, only opening them when it hinted at slightly subsiding.  

When I opened my eyes again, I was shocked to see another Toa. The first thing I noticed were her eyes! Softly glowing a piercing yellow, they were full of the same wondrous surprise that I had seen on so many Matoran’s faces before, but never on one of my equals. She blinked a moment after I did, before our locked gaze broke and she looked me up and down. It took me a few moments to even consider doing the same to her.  

“A Toa...” she said, her voice quiet, but still full of the same wonder. When I finally was able to look at the rest of her, I saw a similar mask to the Matoran that led me to her, but somehow softer, smoother, with thin inset lines and gentle curves giving her an inviting appearance. The smooth blue mask was painted like the Matoran who guided me, a warm, sparkling copper pattern traced over it. “What brings you to our quiet little Koro?” She asked, as I slowly moved from a squat to a kneel. 

“I was protecting some wayward Matoran.” I said, her question snapping me out of my entrancement. “I won’t be staying long, so I won’t burden you.” I urged, hoping I wasn't imposing on anything at all. I knew firsthand that resources were often hard to come by for villages like these, and hated feeling like things were wasted on a traveler like me.  

“You can stay as long as you like,” she said, reaching a hand out to me. “We’re a quiet village. You’re the most exciting thing to grace us in a long time, Toa...” She trailed off, a soft tone waiting for me to answer hanging in the air. It took me a moment to catch it, as my eyes were studying her hands, the metal worn down and painted over.  

“Ohmeni,” I said, hastily, as if I were rushing to catch pottery falling from a table. “Ohmeni, Toa of Lightning.” I completed my introduction, properly, the sense of haste dissolving, as I took in the room around me, consciously trying to avoid distraction and remain stoic and measured, as all good Toa should. And yet... something about the presence of this pair, Toa and Matoran, both clad in cool blues and warm oranges and beautiful patterns, put me at ease, and something felt unnecessary about that emotional front.  

“It’s good to meet you, Ohmeni.” My eyes couldn’t help but be drawn towards hers, where I saw the corner of her eyes scrunch into a warm, welcoming smile – and I felt mine do the same, involuntarily, but I didn’t even think of stopping it. “My name is Pysie, and in case she hasn’t properly introduced herself, this is my apprentice, Ghavialia.” She took my hand in a gentle embrace, more a preliminary inspection than a greeting, but one that immediately sucked in all my attention. She gave a quiet, contemplative “hmm”, as she ran her fingertips over my armor. Finally, she looked up and spoke, while inspecting the rest of me that she could see. “You’re clearly quite the warrior.”  

“How could you tell?” I asked, before silently wincing at the foolish question. She ran a hand over my arm, tracing a large, patched gash. The signs were all over my body. Scratches, cuts, and dents covered my armor from head to toe.

Pysie chuckled, a little sadly. “Your armor looks like a mess.” She pulled away from me, now kneeling close. “I’ve seen Toa hurt before, but... well, when’s the last time you got your armor fixed up?” She said, tilting her head a little. “I mean, really fixed it. Not just emergency patches.”  

I started to open my mouth, but closed it again just as quickly as I realized that I... didn’t really remember. I took a deep breath in, until the sudden shooting pain cut it short, and the air left my lungs as I gasped suddenly in pain. My vision went blurry for a few long moments before clearing as the Matoran held a pot underneath my face, a spiced aroma wafting through my mask as I breathed in. After I took a breath of the stuff, my head started feeling clearer, if a little dizzy, from whatever herbs were in it. “Th... thank you, Ghavail, Gha-” I stammered, struggling to pronounce her name before I was politely cut off.  

“You can call me Gava for short; everyone does.” She used the same matter-of-fact tone she had before, no resentment or judgment, simply a focus on her patient, who was, unfortunately, me. After a few seconds of me breathing it in, Gava took the pot and lidded it, placing it on a small wooden shelf, the top bumping against the wall of hardened, layered leaves. I looked back to Pysie, and realized that in my brief moment of panic, I had tensed up, taking a protective stance. My body had decided that I was under attack, but Pysie placed her hands on my shoulders, and gently guided them into a relaxed position, before lifting my back up, unfazed by my reaction to the tiniest moment of vulnerability.  

“Now,” Pysie said, quietly. “Where do you hurt?”

#my writing #aggslu #bionicle #bonkle #bonkles #bionicle fanfic #toa ohmeni #ohmeni #toa pysie #pysie #ohmeni and pysie #bionicle fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction

[toa-kohutti]

A Gift The Great Spirit Left Unnamed Chapter 3:

Awake

Ohmeni wakes up, tells stories, and gets put back together.

I was used to snapping awake. I had to when I was out in the wild in case of danger. But instead of danger, all that woke me was the clatter of pottery. My eyes shot open, scanning the room for any threats instinctively, but only finding Gava hastily righting the pots on the rickety shelf in a panic. 

“Gava!” Pysie’s voice came out as a hissing whisper. “You’ll wake her!” Pysie sat cross-legged on the floor, now wearing an undecorated blue Kiril, with similarly smooth shapes to her Amana. It was clear which mask she preferred, but my first thought was how either mask looked fine on her, suiting her the same way the legendary Lhikan’s Hau suited him.  

Gava looked at me, a frown forming behind her mask. “It looks like I already have,” she mumbled. 

“It’s fine. I need to be up anyway,” I said, shifting into a sitting position. Once I had my weight down on the ground, I stopped. The motion was smooth, and easy, with practically no effort as I tucked my legs in and sat. I felt... amazing. I looked at my arms, moving them, wiggling my fingers, noticing how different everything felt. It was as if I had left the water and the ease of motion returned, which was wonderful — if a bit ironic, given this newfound weightlessness was given to me by a Toa of Water.  

“Are you okay?” Gava asked, watching me marvel at my own movements. “…And I’m sorry for waking you up.”  

“I feel… amazing,” I said, my voice almost sparkling with wonder. “I haven’t felt this good since I was first made a Toa.”  

“I’m glad,” Pysie said, her voice full of relief. “And it’s no wonder, too. You haven’t given yourself rest in a long time, have you?” As I turned to look at her, the smile formed again, the corner of her eyes lifting behind her mask.  

The question made me feel a little silly to admit, even though normally it was a point of pride. “Well, to be honest,” I said, frowning a little. “I haven’t. How could you tell?”  

“You were… wracked with scar tissue,” Pysie murmured. “You hadn’t let yourself properly heal from many wounds.” Her voice dropped into a tone of concern. “That’s reckless. If you don’t take care of yourself, you can’t help other people.”  

“I never really had the opportunity.” I said, not lying, but only barely. I had opportunities to relax, to rest and calm down, but I chose not to take them. That way, I could help more and do more good. It was my duty as a Toa, after all.  “I’ve been too occupied with surviving.”

“You should take the chance to rest more,” Pysie said, sincerely. “And you really should let me fix the rest of your armor.”  

“No, no, I can’t," I said, quietly, taking a look at the nearly-mended piece of armor that once covered my back, laid across her lap. As Pysie returned to it, I watched the metal knit itself back together, sealing its own damage. It still had dents and scratches, but it looked strong and dependable once more. “I don’t want to impose.”  

“You wouldn’t be imposing!” Gava cut in, now sitting on the floor next to us and carving into a small stone tablet. Her hands etched quick, somewhat messy circles and lines into the slab, taking note of... something. “We’re glad you’re visiting. You’re the most exciting thing to come to our village since-”

Pysie cut Gava off. “Do not bring up the Mukau incident,” she groaned. “That was horrible!” One of her hands went to slap the top of her mask with a muted clunk while the other continued the repair, reforming my armor with her softly glowing fingers channeling the power of her shimmering mask. 

“I’m sure I’ve seen worse.” I chuckled softly, my hands instinctively reaching towards my back, wanting to fiddle with the flax that covered me. “I’ve seen a lot.” 

Gava stopped what she was doing, and looked at me, with an inquisitive gaze coming from behind her mask. “...Where have you been to?” She asked, her voice barely hiding her wonder. 

“Gava, don’t bother our guest.” Pysie scolded, somehow retaining her polite tone. 

“No, no.” I said, doing my best to be kind. “She can ask. I have to wait for you to finish anyway, don’t I?” I said, still watching Pysie. “I don’t get to talk often, anyway.” Gava looked to Pysie for approval, her glance shooting back to me for a moment as she barely hid her excitement. 

“Alright then.” Pysie conceded, nodding a little. Gava quickly sat down in front of me, looking up with inquisitive, wonder-filled eyes. 

“I’ve never been off the Southern Continent, and barely ever outside of this village. What’s the rest of the world like?” She said, giving me her full, undivided attention. “What’s on the other side of this continent? Have you been there? Oh, have you seen Metru Nui?” She bombarded me with questions, her excitement overflowing. 

“Yes, I’ve been to Metru Nui,” I laughed a little, appreciating her excitement. “At least, to Le-Metru. The Moto-Hub is big, way bigger than you’d think just looking at the carvings.” 

“Is it true that everything in Le-Metru is fast? The Le-Matoran traders I’ve met are all really impatient, and say that we’re really slow. Their boats are super fast too!” Gava rattled off responses faster than I’d ever seen, her enthusiasm making me smile. "And why do they talk so funny?"

“Well, the tubes sure are. But if you want to talk about fast…” I talked and talked with Gava, telling her three words of my experiences for every ten words of her excited questions. She grabbed another tablet and started scratching things into it, taking notes about everything I said, forming messy circles in the stone as we talked. Then another, and another, until she ran out, to which Pysie reacted with soft disapproval.

Before we knew it, a long time had passed. Neither of us had noticed until we had been talking for so long until she looked at the lopsided pile of tablets on the floor, each with hastily carved, jagged shapes.

“...I took up a lot of your time with that.” Gava said, clearly a little embarrassed once she noticed what had happened. She started to gather up the pile of tablets, only knocking them down more with a soft clatter. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” I said, warmly. “I don’t get the chance to talk about my life that often.” 

“You have more important things to do, Toa.” She mumbled, retreating into the fearful respect she was supposed to have, piling tablet upon tablet into a pile that was almost too big to carry. Just then, we all had our attention caught by a sound.

“GHAVIALIA!” A scratchy yell came from the outside of the hut, muffled by the walls of greenery. 

“Oh no, Turaga Puigren needs me!” Gava panicked, hastily shoving her things in the corner of the hut with a loud clatter and scrambling out of the door. Pysie shook her head in quiet disapproval. 

“I… probably ought to go,” I said, quietly. “I don’t want to take up any more space than I already do.” I became aware of my stature making things… difficult, to say the least. 

“Not without this.” Pysie said, holding up the plate of my armor. It looked incredible. The wear and tear on it was now near-nonexistent, as if it were only days old. The color had returned, the desaturated blue shining in the dim light of the hut, and the shape had returned to the form it took when I was made a Toa. I couldn’t help but marvel at her work for a time, before speaking absentmindedly.

“...Yeah,” I said, feeling my jaw hang open, and immediately feeling like an idiot. “You did… really good.” Any sense of eloquence had left me once more, turning me into a stammering mess of amazement at the healer's talent with both masks.

“Well, come here and let me put it on you.” Pysie said, a stifled giggle coming from her, no doubt at me. I did as she asked, turning around and moving towards her so she could unwrap the flax that still covered my torso. 

When her hands gently gripped the fabric and began to unwind it, my body shuddered softly. As the layers came off, my muscles were bare to the world once more, vulnerable, but strong again. I could feel her hands close, but not touching me, not yet, hovering around my exposed back. Every motion she made, only a Rahi hair's-length away from me, built a quiet tension. Her fingers barely traced my spine, before moving along the muscles connecting my arms, and finally arriving at my sides. Then, suddenly, her finger made contact with my muscles, and three things happened.

First, I felt a tiny wave of relief, letting out the buildup in my body and feeling a fraction of weight lift off me. Then, I heard a quiet “eep!” coming from Pysie. Finally, I had processed what had happened. My heart jumped as I realized that she completed a circuit, and my power had given her a tiny shock.

“I-I’m sorry!” I stammered. “I didn’t mean to, I didn’t even know-” My panic was cut off by the feeling of her delicate fingers touching my flesh again, this time to no sudden, involuntary discharge. 

“It’s alright,” She said, reassuringly, but her voice had the faintest tone of being startled from the sudden electricity. “I’m alright.” Even when I had inadvertently hurt her, she retained her excellent manners. “It was just a little shock. I’ve felt worse, after all,” As guilty as I felt, the care I had for her caused me to hope in the back of my mind that tiny shock was the worst she’d ever been through. “Now just relax so I can put this on.” 

I took a deep breath. My lungs filled painlessly, no longer having to work around a foreign object shredding me from the inside. It felt good, and like I was whole again for a moment. I breathed in and out a few times, letting my body relax before I filled my lungs again, waiting for Pysie to affix my backplate, softly nodding to her in approval. 

As I held my breath, Pysie gently pressed the armor to my body. I started to exhale, the air slowly pushing out of the sides of my mask as the slightly warm metal touched my flesh. A shiver, but not one like the cold, shot up my spine before calming down. She was closing me up, finishing me, sealing my weak parts off from the dangers of the world, and yet I somehow felt vulnerable again. It wasn’t a fear of her hurting me, I wasn’t even sure that it was a fear at all, but it was almost overwhelming for what should be routine. Something in my heartlight surged, some deep emotion was stirring, but I couldn’t possibly explain what. It was like happiness but heavy, my soul being pulled like gravity, a… 

“Relax and take another deep breath,” My thoughts were interrupted by her voice again. At first I wanted to say I am relaxed, I did take a deep breath , but before those thoughts could even be said, she spoke again and offered a quiet, polite rebuttal. “You’re shaking.” 

“I’m sorry, Pysie,” I said, before taking that deep breath again, and consciously stopping my trembles. I didn't even know why I was shaking, but I did my best to put it out of my mind. It was only a tiny push before the plate locked in, fixed and securely sealed on my back. All of the air left me this time, freely, and I felt my body finally restored, whole again. It was right once more. “...Thank you.” My voice was filled with a deep sincerity, and I know I couldn’t mean it more. 

“It was my pleasure.” As I turned to Pysie, I could see that smile behind her mask, her yellow eyes warm and appreciative as I could see them through the eyeholes. “And if you ever need help, don’t be afraid to come back here again.” 

“I think I will.” I smiled to match hers, before I leaned over to grab my bag and my handaxes. “But I have a job to do for now.” 

“I’m glad,” Pysie said, stifling a tiny giggle at my self-importance. "Come visit me when you have some time off from being a hero." She took my hand and gently squeezed it in gratitude, the metal covering it warm against my cool armor.  After holding it for a moment, just long enough to feel that warmth start to seep into my own hand, she released it, and sat back down in the hut. 

“I’ll see you again.” I turned, starting to exit the hut, and shooting one final, thankful glance at Pysie. I waded through a small crowd of Matoran, watching Gava help a wounded peer to the hut, shoulders together as she balanced their limp. I waved goodbye to her, as well as all of the Matoran who shuffled around to make way for me with a quiet clamor of goodbyes and noises of amazement, before finally meeting eyes with the Turaga. 

The Turaga - Puigren, if I remembered Gava correctly - met eyes with me through her noble Pakari. I took a moment, getting down on one knee, showing her respect. She said nothing at first, and when I lifted my head, she gave me a sagely nod. Her armor was a tarnished silver over blue and… white. She was like me, a being of Lightning. 

“Did our Koro treat you well, Toa?” She said, a voice weighed down by time and scratched from years of probable overuse. 

“Yes,” I said, quietly, returning to my feet. “Pysie and Gava were excellent hosts. I couldn’t have asked for anything more.” The Turaga made a soft noise, a quiet, creaky mumble of approval and pride. 

“I’ll make sure they know that.” She gently tapped her walking stick, her Badge of Office, a tree branch with a shining blue gem entwined in it into the ground to signify her point. “And where will you go next, Toa?” 

“I don’t know,” I said, honestly. “Wherever the Great Spirit calls me.” I hoped that answer wasn’t unsatisfactory, hoping that I had earned the respect of my kinswoman, a sister in my element. I was met with a warm, almost rattly chuckle. 

“An excellent answer!” She said, before stepping aside, thumping her staff on the ground once more, and pointing it towards the wide coast. “Go on, then. Go where you’re needed. And continue to do great things, Toa.” I thought to myself that I must have earned her respect, and felt the tiniest bit proud of myself. I nodded, and smiled behind my mask. 

I stepped out of the village, trying to bring myself back into the mindset of the wandering Toa who entered it. As I began to wander, looking for a new path, I could barely stop thinking about my experiences with Pysie, telling the stories to Gava, and experiencing the respect of the Turaga. A piece of that feeling I felt with Pysie putting my back together came back. I couldn’t tell what it was at first, again. I walked, and I walked, thinking little of where I was going, until I found a place to rest for a small time.

…It must have been yearning. 

#bionicle #bonkle #bonkles #my writing #toa #bionicle fanfic #bionicle fanfiction #toa ohmeni #toa pysie #ohmeni #pysie #ohmeni and pysie

[toa-kohutti]

A Gift the Great Spirit Left Unnamed Chapter 2:

Vulnerable

Ohmeni receives first aid.

“Where do you hurt?” Pysie asked, softly, as my eyes drifted over to Gava, who was gathering things off the shelf. “You’ve been through a lot. What needs the most help right now?” At first, I didn’t know what to say. Or maybe it was that I didn’t allow myself to speak, afraid of something. After a few long moments that I hoped were shorter than they felt, I spoke.

“My… back,” I said, trying to maintain a neutral tone despite the toxins making my flesh feel as if it were simmering. “I w-was fighting a Rahi, and something broke off inside me.” Saying it felt like an admission of guilt, but it somehow fell out of me, shame only creeping in with the seconds after I spoke. “I think it poisoned me, and the pain is spreading.”

“Your back...” Pysie said, thoughtfully. She asked me to turn around, and I did, turning to show my back, complete with gashed armor and the tattered remains of what used to be my cloak covering it. “It’s a very good thing you came to me,” she said, her voice suddenly grave. “If you’d waited a day or two, it could threaten your life.” She pulled the shroud off of me, which almost made me jump.

My mind instantly rushed to the Matoran I had saved, and the relief I felt when I had saved them. I was a Toa, I could handle a little poison. But what if it had happened to them? My mind raced, worrying what could have become of them until her hand touched my armor, and I gasped in pain again. “I’m sorry!” Pysie said, quickly, before gently removing her hand. I looked up towards Gava, who nodded towards Pysie before suddenly leaving, with just us two Toa left, alone.

“Why’d you... Send Gava out?” I asked, still reeling from the sharp pain. I felt Pysie’s hands return, but this time nowhere near my wounds.

“Because I need to remove this, and I figured you’d appreciate the privacy.” She said, before pressing her fingertips into the seams between my armor’s plates.

“M-My armor?” I stammered, as her fingers slowly, gently probed the plates that protected my muscles from the outside world. She traced the shapes forming the shells, as if she was trying to understand how I was put together. “Is that... necessary?” I hadn’t had anyone remove my armor since I was a Matoran, my Turaga fixing me up when I snapped my leg. And yet, in the presence of this stranger, I felt… almost like I could let my guard down. I asked if I had to, yes, but the fact that I could allow it at all felt almost nothing like the usual detachment I was accustomed to.

Pysie didn’t react to my apprehensiveness with hostility. Instead, she spoke with a measured patience. “If I don’t do something about the poison, it’ll spread and get worse. If we wait, the damage could be too much for me to repair." Even when talking about my impending doom, her words were putting me at ease somehow. I nodded. I had troubles enough, and if I could avoid one, then maybe this would be worth it.

A moment after I nodded, she spoke again. “Can you relax your muscles?” I hadn’t even realized they were tense, but I certainly felt it after she reminded me. I took as deep a breath as I could manage, struggling to put the tension in my body aside while not breathing too deeply and feeling the talon twist in my body. As I did, her fingers effortlessly ran underneath the seams of my armor and released them. In an instant, my back’s muscles were exposed, and I reflexively tensed up again, before she moved her hands to my still-armored shoulders, and gave a gentle, soothing shush.

“Shh.” She let out a calming sound as I struggled to regain the relaxation in my muscles, bare and vulnerable. “Let me remove the claw.” She murmured, a hand hovering close to my back, awaiting my compliance. I breathed in again, my shoulders high and tight, and slowly struggled to release my muscles, and let the stress inside them go. “It’s okay,” she whispered, her hand now touching my flesh, far from my wounds. I could feel some of her fingers, but not others, sitting atop scar tissues. “It’s okay,” she calmed me, her touch slowly becoming something that my body would allow. “It’s okay.” A third time was enough to make me stop thinking. A soft sense of relief, but the kind that only papers over pain, started to creep in. It almost felt like I had finally dropped a heavy weight after a long day.

Suddenly, that thin layer of peace was shattered when, without warning, Pysie snatched the talon pieces that had sheared off inside me from my flesh. I let out a tiny, startled gasp, only to be met with another calming admonition from her. “It’s over now.” She said, slowly running a hand down my less-harmed muscles. Her touch was gentle enough to not even cause my muscles to tense. “Now, I need to use my Kanohi’s power on you.”

Her mask! I was too busy looking at the beautiful copper upon it earlier – and who was behind it – to even think about what it was. “What is it?” I asked. For a moment, I had forgotten that I was vulnerable, my back open to her, and felt a rush of embarrassment. My jaw clenched underneath my mask, not from the pain of the poison, but from my foolishness.

“It’s an Amana,” she said, her seeming unbotheredness providing a tiny rush of reassurance. “A Mask of Healing.” I heard her take a deep breath, and a soft blue glow began filling the hut. I watched the shadows that the blue light cast move as her hands moved towards me, finally touching my bare, vulnerable muscles.

Nothing could have prepared me for the sudden feeling that rushed through me when her hands made contact with my body. A soothing feeling, cool but relaxing, coursed through the pathways that the poison took through my flesh. It was as though every problem my muscles had ever had, every complaint they had when I pushed them too far, dissolved from her touch. I let out a soft, involuntary gasp, before my breath slowly fell from my body. My eyes closed, and my body surrendered itself to her soothing, gentle touch, every bit of it open to whatever she pleased. But instead of the pain I was so used to, the only thing she provided was respite and healing, the peace coursing through every inch of me.

The last time anyone had me open was when I was a small Matoran, my leg twisted and broken when my work went awry. He took me apart, replacing hinges and plates and then rewiring my muscles around them. It was long, not necessarily painful, but not comfortable, and it took many days for my muscles to finish returning to their proper state. Pysie’s healing, though? It felt like the comfort of sleep while awake, the warmth of a campfire without the heat, the feeling of satiety without having eaten. Was it a few moments I was lost in, or an hour? It felt like it could go on forever, but in turn that it could leave me in a single second, which I would accept, gracefully. Either way, I...

I...

I slowly came back to reality. The same aroma that was used by Gava to calm me despite the pain wafted through the room, and it awoke me. When I opened my eyes, I expected a usual bleariness to occupy my vision, but instead, I found my vision clear, with my mind matching. I moved my hands, only to find them relaxed and tensionless, each movement having a long-lost surety and ease return.

“Did I...?” I asked, still trying to comprehend what had happened. My thoughts were clear, but the memory of the sensations I had felt were another story.

“Fall asleep?” Pysie said, with a chuckle. Her voice had a weight to it that was formerly absent, as if she was deeply exhausted. “Yes, but not for long.” She sighed before coming into my vision, her mask shimmering in the dim light from a hanging lightstone, now the only illumination in the room. “You were a complicated job.”

I wasn’t sure whether to apologize or thank her, my first instinct being to stammer three different contradictory things, but ultimately saying nothing. I simply looked at her, the tiredness in her eyes now clear behind her mask. “Did it take a lot out of you?” I asked, my hand slowly raising almost on its own.

“More than I’m used to, yeah.” She chuckled, her voice weighty. “But I’m alright.” She smiled, and I smiled too. I hoped she didn’t notice and ask about mine, or at least I tried to make myself think that. “Your armor needs a lot of work.”

“It does.” I admitted. “You were right about it not being fixed in a long time. I patched it up a long time ago, but not since then.” With it off, she could tell that it was scrap metal that I had arc welded onto my own body. How utterly embarrassing.

“Mmm.” She gave a knowing noise and nodded. “I can fix it in the morning. I need... time before I can use my Kiril.” The Mask of Regeneration, I remembered. That was a Kanohi I was familiar with, and I knew that could repair my armor. Was there anything Pysie couldn’t do? This Toa was amazing!

“You don’t have to do everything.” I said, suddenly remembering the fact that I was a visitor to her village. I stammered, praying I wasn’t overstaying my welcome. “I-I don’t need you to.”

Pysie smiled and shook her head. “It wouldn’t feel right to send you off with some armor with a big hole cut in it. But I need some sleep,” She said, gesturing to two nearby beds, presumably where she put her patients when they had more complex problems. “And I think you do too.” She was right, unfortunately. The leafy beds didn’t look the most comfortable, but I couldn’t care less about that at the moment. “I’ll cover your muscles so you don’t get hurt overnight.”

“Thank you.” I said, softly. “I... can’t possibly repay you. I have widgets, but barely any.” She grabbed a folded length of what was probably flax, and positioned herself to wrap it around my torso. Before I noticed I had done it, I lifted my arms to let her.

“Nonsense.” She said, tying it off before gently patting my back to verify my comfort. Sure enough, there was little more than a momentary dull impact, the pain of the wounds having left me. “As long as you protect others, the fact that you’re still around is worth enough on its own to me.” She then sighed, stretched, and sat down on one of the beds, barely big enough to hold her, clearly built by a Matoran. “And you seem like you’ve been doing that a lot, Ohmeni.”

“It’s the only thing I ever do.” My tone made it clear it wasn’t a brag, simply an acknowledgement of the duty I’d taken on. “Thank you,” I said, again, as I gently lowered myself onto the corresponding bed, and realized it clearly wasn’t big enough for me.

“Are you going to be comfortable there?” Pysie giggled. I was quite a bit taller than her. Last I checked, I was around 1.7 bio, and she could be no more than 1.4.

“I’ve slept in far worse spots.” I wasn’t exaggerating at all. Being a nomadic Toa offered its own challenges. “This is at least soft.” I said, with a chuckle. “It’s nice, actually.” I slowly laid down and tucked my legs in, and only when I was situated and let myself relax did I notice that she was watching me the whole time, her eyes tracking my movements. Her gaze on me felt... nice. Nice, and safe, and…

A soft silence hung in the air for a moment, the gentle relaxation mingling with the slow cover of the night sinking in. Her gaze suddenly turned away from me, as if she had suddenly realized what she was doing. “...Goodnight, Ohmeni.” She said, quietly, but sincerely.

It was a shame she wasn’t looking at me now, seeing my smile. “Goodnight, Pysie.” I said, softly. As the night slowly covered us, I felt safe. And as I fell asleep, I hoped that she knew how thankful I was.

#bionicle #bonkle #bonkles #my writing #toa #toa pysie #toa ohmeni #ohmeni #pysie #ohmeni and pysie #love story #falling in love #bionicle fanfic #bionicle fanfiction

[toa-kohutti]

starting today, my big fic, "A Gift the Great Spirit Left Unnamed", will be posted one chapter a day here for Pride Month!

i hope you all enjoy the story of Ohmeni and Pysie, and (gay) love blossoming in a world where there's no words for love.

#aggslu #toa ohmeni #toa pysie #ohmeni and pysie #pysie #ohmeni #my writing #bonkles #bionicle fanfic #bionicle fanfiction

[toa-kohutti]

Ohmeni, Toa of Lightning, and Pysie, Toa of Water, the protagonists of my fic A Gift the Great Spirit Left Unnamed!

Ohmeni is a world-weary, nomadic Toa, and Pysie is the healer at Gavo-Koro, the small village where she she seeks refuge. Together, they discover something that they don't have a name for, but find important all the same... Pysie wears a great Amana, the Mask of Healing, and wields a harpoon, but... not very well. Ohmeni wears an Arthron, the Mask of Sonar, and wields dual Voltaic Hatchets as her Toa Tool.

#pysie #ohmeni #a gift the great spirit left unnamed #agglu #my mocs #my fic #toa #toa of lightning #toa of water #bionicle #bionicle moc

[toa-kohutti]

should i release my Big Fic on here even though i've been waiting on art for it for pride month

#my writing #i'm kinda leaning towards yes... #i want people to fall in love with ohmeni and pysie #and i want the Attention

[toa-kohutti]

my fluffy fic, A Gift the Great Spirit Left Unnamed, updated on AO3 today! a mirror post will come over a week once the fic is concluded! go check out the story of two Toa who discover love, but live in a world where there's no word for it.

#bionicle #fanfic #my fic #my writing #bionicle fanfic #bionicle fanfiction #toa #a gift the great spirit left unnamed #agglu #ohmeni #pysie #toa of water #toa of lightning #ghavialia #in this one the bionicles kiss a little #but it's pg-13

[toa-kohutti]

i'm at chapter 6/8 of my Really Good fic, and when it's done i'm gonna queue it up to post daily. in the meantime, you can read the 6/8 chapters available on my AO3, it's about two toa falling in love in a world where love doesn't have a name

#my writing #i'm so excited to see the tumblr audience's reaction to ohmeni and pysie #bionicle

[toa-kohutti]

A Gift The Great Spirit Left Unnamed Chapter 6:

Memories

Ohmeni is on death's door. Pysie saves her. Something magical happens.

The memory of when my life was hanging in the balance is a blur. I remember a Rahkshi, a disgusting creature with powers beyond my understanding. I don’t remember what color. I remember it hurting me, badly. I remember breaking the shell of the cursed thing open and squashing the Kraata, destroying the profane beast forever. And I remember limping to Gavo-Koro. 

Everything from that time is a haze. If I were even able to pay attention, I’m sure that the Matoran saw me, a spectacle of a Toa, hobbling through the village, weak and nearly defeated. I could barely control my limbs, much less my powers. I can only remember stumbling around, my body itself disobeying me as I struggled to reach the village. All of this, my grave danger, came back to one wound…

The Rahkshi went for my head. 

A trembling hand of mine struggled to cover my wound, jerking involuntarily as I walked, but it wouldn’t help. The blade at the end of the Rahkshi’s staff tore through my mask and my head, piercing whatever part of me let me wield my power over lightning, leaving me completely unable to control my powers. The energy flowed through my body, arcing over my armor, ready to shock anything it touched. I was a danger, my body itself threatening to harm anything that came too near. 

In its half-broken state, even my mask was useless and uncontrollable. The power flowed out of it, my Arthron’s wound leaving it like a cracked pot, water flowing from anywhere it could escape, pouring garbage information into my mind. The power I relied on to navigate better was flooding my brain with chaotic, useless data, as if it were trying to convince me that I was in the middle of impossible geometry. All I could do is use what little of my mind that I could to try and limp to her, to Pysie. She was my only hope, and the thought of seeing her again was what kept me alive as I struggled to make it to the village, so far away. I focused on what my eyes could see as much as I possibly could, and limped on with new determination. 

The next thing I can remember is Gava. My eyes were bleary as I looked on her, and she offered a hand. I refused to take it, my body trembling from the overwhelming power the Rahkshi drew out of me. I couldn’t hurt her. I couldn’t hurt anyone. That’s not the way of a Toa. I became a Toa to save others, even at the cost of my own life. And I was going to live up to that if it was the last thing I did before destiny came to pluck me from life. 

I didn’t bend down to enter the hut. I fell into it, my legs buckling the moment I tried to duck. I heard a gasp, a familiar voice, and whimpered in pain. My muscles tensed, the jerking getting worse and my vision fading in and out. I was helpless, vulnerable, but at the same time, I was a threat. My body could cause grievous damage if something touched me. Despite missing her, despite missing her touch, I silently begged for her to stay away, to not save me. If I hurt her, I didn’t deserve to live. 

And yet, I felt a hand. Pysie took my mask off, yelping in pain. She looked into my eyes, seeing the grave wound that ran through my head. “This is bad,” she said, her voice deadly serious. “Hold on, Ohmeni. Just hold on a little longer.” 

“Ngh!” Her hand touched my bare face, and her mask began to glow. The electricity was too much to bear, and her body jerked in turn as she groaned from the energy. “Just… hold… on!” She shouted to me, the warm, healing power of her Amana starting to fill me and my wound. 

My mind was subsumed by the gentle feeling of her powers. Most of all, it was… quiet. With the Arthron gone, I was no longer assaulted by mental misfires, no longer unable to trust my senses. The passive knowledge that she was healing me was only barely there, replaced with the simple feeling of nothing. I could feel my breathing stabilize, hear myself exhale and inhale like I wasn’t being threatened anymore. 

But… what about my powers? Thoughts began to pierce the calming veil of Pysie’s healing force. I listened to the rest of my body like I listened to my breaths, and realized that my power was still flowing, still pumping countless volts out of me like it was nothing. I panicked. My breaths grew fast, terrified. I could feel my body twitch, my form shake and tremble with the staggering power that flooded through me. But the warmth of the healing was still there. That could only mean that I…

I opened my eyes, and saw her, fighting to hold on to me. A hard grip on my face trembled as the energy poured into Pysie, who groaned in pain. She winced, whimpered, but her mask still glowed, bright and steadfast as she pressed her hand into me. I was hurting her. There was no way around it. But she still stayed, she still fought against me to save me. She was a healer, one who served others. She healed me, even when I was bringing her pain. The few thoughts I could form brought me back to the last time we saw each other. She was scared in the sand about not being good enough. Holding on to me, I was convinced that she was more than good enough. Pysie had to be one of the bravest Toa I ever knew. 

But even she could only take so much. With a gasp of pain, she collapsed, her hand falling to her side and her on her bottom. “O-Ohmeni!,” she groaned, as the last wave of healing warmth left me. “I can still help you!” 

I could only gasp in reply. “Ahh… h-aahh…” Haggard, unstable breaths filled my body. I wanted to say how brave she was, how grateful I was for her, but my body wouldn’t let me. It could only gasp, only react to it malfunctioning and its own pain. I prayed she could see it all in my eyes. But I didn’t need to say anything, for she leapt to me again, this time scooping me up in her arms, holding me against her knee. 

“It's okay, it's okay," Pysie repeated as she held me, my body jerking in tiny ways as my electric misfires, now smaller but still harmful, flowed into her. I could feel her body suppressing those sudden, spastic motions, and my brain was wracked with thoughts that dissolved, disappearing like sparks before they were finished. I was in terror, the fear that I could be hurting her a constant in my scattered thoughts, each lasting for only an instant. But she just held me there, repeating the mantra, "it's okay, it’s okay," and I wondered if she wasn’t saying it for my sake. She had stabilized me. I could see what was going on again. And I could think, far more than I previously could. And so, terror struck me as I watched one hand lift the bottom of her mask. “Hold on.” 

"N-no…" I quivered. "Don't…" I was terrified she was going to endanger herself. Removing her mask would weaken her. What if my uncontrollable lightning surges got worse? What if my body threatened her life? Despite my protests, her movements were sure. She knew what she was going to do. 

Pysie slipped the mask off of her face, and I saw her, bare, for the first time. Her eyes were nearly impossible to tear my gaze  from, the warm yellow light guiding me in and beckoning for my attention. The mechanical parts that made up her features differed from mine, but they were… beautiful. Within that moment, I could only think that her face was sculpted by the greatest Po-Matoran carver, his design handed down from the Great Spirit himself. If I could, I would’ve stared at her forever, but the twinge of guilt knowing what it would do to her shivered through my spine. I wanted to tell her to stop, but I couldn’t. My mask was long off my face now, and I felt like a Matoran, one in a body that couldn’t hold up to itself. I didn’t want that to happen to her. I was terrified. But she held the mask in her unsure grip, and stared into my eyes.

With a shaking hand, she brought her mask closer to me. What was she doing? Before my malfunctioning brain could begin to puzzle out why, she gently slipped it over my face. I felt a fraction of my strength return, my healing unfinished but my vulnerable state undone. As the mask connected with me, I felt… her. I could feel the imprint of Pysie on her mask, her feelings, her convictions, almost as if her soul itself left a footprint on her Kanohi. A shard of her everything, so small and yet deeper than the oceans, coursed through my mind, and I breathed in, and I felt myself breathing her in. And I knew something else when I slipped it on, too. Our experience made me sure of it. 

She felt it, too. The emotion I feel when I’m with her, she felt it for me just the same. Even in our weakened states, feeling her emotions course through me as I sat, trembling, and she fixed her Kiril to her face, it felt like there was nothing more true than this feeling. How could the Great Spirit be so cruel? Giving us this gift, and leaving it unnamed! In this tiny hut, we shared a tiny piece of the divine, something so wonderful it could only have come from the Great Spirit himself, and yet there were no words, nothing I could say to tell her how I felt.

“P-Py…sie…” I choked out, my body still twitching and struggling even if the worst had been repaired. I couldn’t just say nothing. I needed her to know, more than I needed to breathe. “I…” 

At first, she said nothing. The Kiril had just connected to her face, and in a moment, I saw the need to make a decision flash behind her eyes. She hoisted me up, using her Toa strength to pull my face close to hers, before she did the unthinkable. She tore it off again, then tore off the mask on my face. We looked at each other, bare-faced, no masks concealing anything. I could barely breathe. The second rush of weakness was making my body threaten to fail, ready to shut down until I was safe. But I knew I was safe, here, in her arms, and I didn’t raise a finger to stop whatever she was doing. I admired her beauty for those few fleeting seconds, when suddenly, she pressed her forehead against mine, our eyes closer than ever. 

I could feel her breath on my face. She panted, struggling to hold me up, staring into my eyes and fighting for this stupid, reckless, beautiful moment. I could feel the tiny sparks flowing through us both now, a complete circuit, connected as she held me and we touched at so many points. The mask she made me wear told me enough to know that she wanted more from this moment. And so, Pysie took it, using the chance she was given like it was her makeright, to make it last forever. 

Her lips pressed against mine. The tiniest spark flowed through us, as if it was confirming our link. But something far greater blossomed in my soul. My lips moved almost on their own, my body opening itself to Pysie’s motions. And yet, she wanted more, her face and lips constantly shifting against mine, as she tried to take in as much of me as she could through them. Our eyes fluttered closed, together, as her mouth danced against mine, lost in the moment, and nothing in the world could possibly tear us apart. 

I can’t remember if it was because we were sated or because we were too weak, but our lips parted eventually, and Pysie slipped the mask onto my face again. I could only watch her press the Kiril to her beautiful face before my body demanded the debt from our joy be paid, and I collapsed.

====================

“Why are you looking at me like that?” The Toa of Stone, now leader of our team, spoke up, grabbing my attention. 

“I… I’m sorry.” I shook my head. “I just… I…” 

“She keeps look-seeing him.” The Toa of Air beside me, Vinduur, grumbled. “Why would you wonder-think it anything other-else?” 

“We all lost him, Steignn.” Our Toa of Plasma leaned back. Koiel was always on my side, through thick and thin. “We’re all still mourning. Don’t punish Ohmeni for having trouble.” 

“But we can’t afford to have trouble.” Steignn stood up from the table, and started to pace. “I don’t think you understand. We’re uncoordinated. Everyone’s too busy mourning, and we don’t have time for it!” He stomped a single foot, making all of the stone in the area suddenly jump. “We’re hardly a team anymore. And the universe needs Toa teams. ” 

“So make the time to work with your team!” Koiel shot up too, getting right in our leader’s face. “We need you as much as you need us! Come on. Unity!” 

“How can we be united in our strength if we can’t even act as one when we’re struggling?” Steignn growled back. He bristled in his heavy armor, his anger at my worthlessness undeniable.

“I’m begin-starting to think Gilem was true-right.” Vinduur stood with Steignn, arms folded and against us. “We’re four Toa-heroes. Not a proud-full team, not since he left-walked.” 

“What are you saying?” I asked, cowering somewhat, even though I didn’t know why. 

“I’m on Vinduur’s side here. We all need to find our own paths.” Steignn turned. “It’s time for us to go and find something new. We can’t be bound together by the dreams of a dead man.” He said over his shoulder, as he walked out with Vinduur. 

I was appalled. All of this because of me? Because I couldn’t let go of Talaimh? Staring me in the face was the undeniable proof that I was always the weakest link. And yet, somehow, Koiel stayed back with me. 

“That’s not what Toa Talaimh would have wanted!” He shouted back to the figures on course to the horizon. His anger was born of fear, and his shoulders dropped and head hung as despair won for a second. “Not what our brother would have wanted.” He said, under his breath.

 He turned, and he moved to comfort me. I think the both of us realized a moment later that we were doing exactly what Steignn had said - holding on to the dreams of our dead brother. “Hey, Ohmeni.” He said, placing a hand on me. “Listen, if you want to go somewhere, I’m with you. You’re my sister, and nothing will ever change that.” 

“...It doesn’t matter.” I muttered. 

“What do you mean?” He asked. “I-I mean, do you not-” 

“I’m going alone. Like he said.” I stood up from the bench, now a half-head taller than my brother. “I’ll just give you a reason to leave, too, at some point. It’s better for me to just leave you alone now to find a team that deserves you.” 

“Ohmeni, you do deserve me!” Koiel said, as I shrugged off his touch and started for the exit. “You don’t have to be alone! You aren’t what you think you are!” His voice wavered with fear, and he struggled to find his words.

It didn’t matter. I needed to go, to run away from this horrible past. “I’m sorry. It’s for the good of everyone.” I hoped it was. I would lay awake at nights, praying it really was, almost as if I wanted the Great Spirit himself to know that I truly was better off alone. 

He paused for a moment, before calling out one last question. 

“Ohmeni… When will I see you again?” 

I left with that question unanswered. I could never answer him. I wanted to never be seen by them again, to never remind them of Talaimh the way they did me. If I stopped, his memory returned. So I walked away, and I walked. I could not stop until I had done enough to make him proud. To do otherwise would be a failure to the Toa Code, and his memory. 

====================

“How’s she doing now?” 

“She’s no longer jerking, but she’s fading in and out of sleep cycles. She hasn’t been responsive, which is worrying given the severity of the trauma.”  

“She’s alive, though.” 

“Yes, Turaga.” 

“Then you’ve saved her. You deserve to be commended, Pysie.” 

“No, Turaga… not until it’s done.” 

“She could remain in this state for many more years. Now let yourself rest a little. You saved her life, and you don’t need to end yours over it.”

“...Yes, Turaga.” 

====================

“Hi. I hope that you can hear me in there, Ohmeni.” The second voice slipped into my mind, this time clear enough to be familiar. “It’s been a while, I know. But you’re getting better, I think. I haven’t seen you twitch in a long time, and the lightning has stopped completely. Just… Come back to me soon, okay? There’s so much to talk about, and I don’t even know if you can hear me. ” 

“...I’ll tell you again when you wake up. But, at night… I take my mask off. And then I press my lips against your body somewhere, like…” …like something I could barely remember.  “I’ve noticed it always makes you smile a little. At least, I think you’re smiling. You look like you’re in pain so much of the time. But I don’t know if you will remember any of it. And d-don’t worry, I’ve made sure nobody else saw!” The familiar voice trailed off. “ …Please come back, Ohmeni. You’re right here, right in front of me. But I miss you so much. Gava misses you too. She’s scared that you won’t ever get to tell her more stories! Now you keep fighting to come on home to us. There’s so much to talk about. There’s…” I could hear her voice crack under the emotion. “So much I need to talk to you about. P-please. Come back to me soon. I need you.”

I felt cool breath on my exposed flesh before I felt her lips touch it, to a tiny spark, but something unlike what happened before. If only I could just remember what happened before… I could feel myself fading back into nothingness, but I didn’t want to. My willpower fought against my body, begging it to let me rise and hold her and tell her how much I cared for her, even though I didn't know why. But the long-overworked body’s demand won, and I slipped back into the nothing, the dark peace, waiting for another dream.

#bionicle #bonkle #bonkles #my writing #bionicle fanfic #bionicle fanfiction #toa

[toa-kohutti]

A Gift The Great Spirit Left Unnamed Chapter 5:

Waves and Flames

Ohmeni and Pysie get a chance to talk, and the village has a celebration. Puigren wonders about the serendipity of Ohmeni's return.

This village had less than a hundred Matoran in it. Why in the name of the Great Spirit could they possibly need this much firewood? I thought to myself. As I hoisted my third armful of it across the open area bordering the village, I looked over the stack of it to try and get a sense of what was going on. I saw Pysie, crouched down to nearly the height of the Matoran, talking to them, seemingly directing them to do things. She turned to one, said something, and then turned to another as they walked off, several times in a row. Only when I got into earshot could I get a sense of what was going on, and even then, I was only catching the tail end of her particular plot.

"Good! Make sure he remembers." She said, patting a Matoran on the shoulder, to which she seemed to beam with pride. As I carried the fire over to the pit, the small series of benches, fashioned out of wood and stone and giving a head's height of space for the Matoran to see over each other, were already filling up, despite the sun only barely starting to set.

As I sat the armful of wood down on the pit, now stacking half a Matoran tall, I turned to Pysie, now standing and holding her hands close to her chest.

"So, now that I've hauled all this, are you going to let me in on what all this preparation is for?" I folded my arms in a bit of mock displeasure, a veneer of sarcasm over my genuine curiosity. "And what are all of the Matoran doing? There's a few hours til nightfall."

"You know, for someone who is so unwilling to impose, you ask an awful lot of questions." She folded her arms in a more exaggerated version of my own gesture, twisting her hips and shoulders for the full teasing effect. At least, until she burst out laughing, causing me to laugh a little along with her. When she finally regained her composure, she sighed happily and looked at me, that magnetic smile in her eyes. "Seriously, it’s more fun if you find out later.."

"Alright, alright, it's a surprise," I conceded. "But I do have a question I think I should be asking, though." I said, shifting my gaze towards the Matoran all abuzz at the seating structure, which grew more impressive for the context of the village. The structure's stone seats and bases were reinforced by wood beams with plenty of cord connecting them, forming a rigid structure that looked like it could hold steady with most of the village atop it.

"Go on," Pysie said, as I turned back to catch her eyes, seemingly studying me.

"I... uh..." When I finally felt the bravery to say what was really on my mind, it felt like it had gone away in an instant. "...Can we take a walk together?" I said, my sudden change in demeanor obvious enough. Immediately, I cringed internally, sounding like a recently-made Matoran falling off the assembly line with all the knowledge of how to work but none on how to socialize.

"Is that your question?" She chuckled. "Yes, we can. And then you can say what’s really on your mind.." She gently waved me over towards the beach, beckoning me to follow her.

We walked together, a little awkwardly, as I struggled to match her walking pace. Through no fault of her own, she was so much slower than I was - the amount of walking she and I were used to were quite out of step, and the natural gap in our height was no help either. When we were sufficiently out of earshot of the Matoran, I resolved to get over myself and ask the stupid question.

"...When I first came to the village, why were you so excited to see me?" I asked. 

The question hung in the air, like a Rahi bird gliding against the wind. I heard her breathe in before halting, clearly thinking a lot about it. After a time, she finally spoke.

"It's been a long, long time since I've seen another Toa." She said, although the tone of her voice made it clear that the answer wasn't the whole story. "That, and you're... so different from every other Toa I've ever met, I guess." She stared off the coast, watching the waves pass by. 

“I’ve probably met a lot more,” I said, my pace finally matching hers in a somewhat comfortable mask. “But you’re really different, too.”

“Really?” She chuckled a little. “How am I different, miss ‘I know a ton of Toa’?” She asked in a mock accusation. 

“I’ll tell you…” I said, thinking for a moment. “...But only if you tell me what makes me different after.” 

“I, well… “ Pysie stammered. “I… F-Fine!” Her last words were huffed out. Had I upset her? Accidentally backed her into a deeper corner? I prayed that I hadn’t. To avoid this trouble, I began to speak. 

“Alright. Well,” I took a deep breath. “You are…” I began to think aloud. “Gentle. You’re more gentle than so many Toa, for one. And generous, too,” I put my fist to the bottom of my mask as I thought. “I mean, you haven’t made me pay you for any of your services, and you saved my life.” 

“It wouldn’t be right to.” Pysie said, quietly. “If we can save a life, I think that the Great Spirit tells us that we have to. It’s.. our duty, right?” 

“The Great Spirit says nothing about widgets, and I’d be happy to repay you,” I grabbed the strap of the bag that was over my shoulder, and shook it a little, letting her hear the jingle of the meager widgets I had within. “I wonder if you’re too nice for your own good.” I said, quietly, but with a soft smile. 

“That’s what Turaga Puigren says, anyway.” She hung her head, and absentmindedly kicked a rock. “I don’t think I’m much of a good Toa, anyway. All I do is sit in my hut and fix things and Matoran.” 

“How could you possibly think that?” I asked, a little bit taken aback by the mere idea that someone as kind as her could be a bad Toa. 

“What if we get attacked, and I’m not strong enough to stop them?” Her voice was heavy and shaky, like her insides were grabbed and rattled, leaving her twisted and shaken. “I know others are afraid of it too. And I think that Turaga Puigren…” 

“Woah,” I said, quickly moving in front of Pysie’s path and stopping her. “Hey, Pysie.” I said, softly. “I bet you are. I bet you are strong enough.” I hoped my words, even if I didn’t have a reason to believe what I was saying, could calm her. And I did believe it, despite the lack of evidence. 

“I’m not.” She choked, before flopping down on the ground, sitting in the sand with her head in her hands. “I know it. That’s why Puigren is going to make another Toa. I’m not enough, I’m sure of it...” She trembled, clearly overwhelmed by emotion. “It’s what the village deserves. It’s better that way. It’s better that way.” Her last words were quiet, as if they were a mantra to herself only. 

I placed a hand on her shoulder. Her trembling seemed to slow down, her body reacting to my touch as if…  I was calming her. She looked up at me, eyes twisted with deep sadness, silent. She started to speak, but said nothing. Eventually, her head drooped back down again. I was no good at this, I knew. I was a fighter, and barely good at anything else. This didn’t come naturally to me at all, and I felt my stomach drop. 

“...Well, you’re enough for me.” I murmured, awkwardly. 

“W-what?” She croaked out, her voice straining against the heavy emotion. 

“I said that you’re enough for me,” I moved a little closer to her, and put my other hand on her back. “You saved me. You can’t possibly not be enough to me.” I hope that my emotion would get through to her, and she would know how grateful I was, how much I admired her. 

In return, I got a quiet, sad chuckle. “That’s not what I meant, Ohmeni.” She said, gently shaking her head. “But… it does mean a lot.” She looked up at me, her eyes looking a little less sad. The sun was beginning to set, and the orange waves painted upon her mask, in front of the shore where an orange light scattered over the waves, looked so beautiful, so free. And yet, the Toa wearing it was weighed down, a shackle of doubt making her wonder if she was anything other than her job. I looked past the waves, into her sad eyes, holding their own against the same weight as the rest of her. And before I knew it, my body was almost moving on its own. 

I moved closer to her, our armor now touching as we sat on the shore, the wet sand starting to settle around us as the waves rolled in. Both of my arms were around her, and I moved close, holding her like I was carrying a Matoran to safety close to my chest, but staying here, as the water washed over us. I didn’t understand why I was doing what I was doing, but I knew, somehow, that it was necessary. Some instinct propelled me to pull my arms tighter, the plates of our armor pressed together, and we sat like that, in silence. 

I felt the waves around my legs start to move strangely, wrapping around me. Pysie’s arms suddenly wrapped around my middle, her head tucking into my chestplate between the two blades extending to my shoulders. I opened my eyes and looked around, trying to understand what was going on, what we were being pulled to do. When I saw it, I let out a silent gasp of wonder.

 The waves were not the ocean, they were Pysie, the power over water she wielded forming a gentle whirlpool around us. A spiral, a tiny piece of the ocean sparkling in the sun, wound around us, as if she were trying to draw in time, keep us here. The water was calming, healing, safe. And yet, in a moment, I could ruin it. My lightning could shatter our peace, course through us and harm us. But it didn’t. No involuntary spark scattered through the waves, making us jerk and shout in pain. We sat there, in the calming spiral, a moment lingering, time itself seeming to bask in it with us. 

The spiral softly collapsed, the water returning to its ocean home, and I gently released Pysie. She held onto me for a second longer before her arms fell back to her side, much like the water that wrapped around us. She looked up to me with that smile in her eyes, a weight lifted but not fully gone. She twisted over to see the sun, now sinking down towards the horizon, the whole ocean cast in an orange glow. 

“We should probably start back, shouldn’t we?” She said, softly. “Tonight’s important. We can’t miss it.”  

“Yeah.” I replied, quietly.  Let's get you up, okay?” I stood up and offered her my hand to help her up, which she took before barely putting any weight in it as she stood up gracefully, ready to walk us back to Gavo-Koro. 

The way she walked made it seem like she hadn't broken down at all, a quiet, elegant confidence only broken by a quiet sigh of relaxation. I saw her shoulders start to loosen, the gears and pistons around her frame moving freely. But my focus was on her strides, watching her legs move back and forth in rhythm. Something about her motions were hypnotic, calm and mundane yet incredible to watch, almost as if her steps channeled the waves that she could control. I couldn’t help but watch the pistons compressing and expanding on her thighs, watch the steps and feel some part of me move with her, whether it was somewhere in my body or my mind. 

I had little time to think about it deeply, as before I knew it, we had returned to the huts and were close to the fire pit. Most of the Matoran in the village were on the seating structure near the flame, although some seemed to still be working nearby on the other side of the fire. I noticed Puigren sat down, to the left of the structure, atop a stone. A Matoran pushed a similar, yet larger stone beside her. Pysie touched my arm, getting my attention.

“Usually, I sit on one side and Puigren on the other. I… think you’re invited to sit there,” She said, a bit of uncertainty in her voice. Or was it… disappointment? Either way, far be it from me to disrespect the Turaga’s wishes. “You’ll have to tell me what you think when we’re done.” 

“I will,” I said, looking at her, a soft smile forming from her touch on my arm. “You’ll know where to find me, I suppose.” I placed my hand atop hers for a second, until she pulled it away. I hoped she took that as appreciative. 

I sat down next to Puigren on that stone, a little too short for comfort, but better than the bare sandy ground. She acknowledged me with a nod, and I looked at her. The Matoran were all laughing and talking, but she was deadly serious. After a moment, I spoke to her. 

“...What is all of this?” I said, in a hushed voice. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything for you tonight.” 

Puigren let out a rattly sound, a chuckle, but missing a little of the warmth I’d expected. “It’s a dance, Toa,” she said quietly. “A ceremonial dance. Like a Takara, except instead of honoring the Great Spirit…” She trailed off. “Well, you’re a smart girl. You can figure it out. Just watch and enjoy yourself.” Her speech to me was finalized with that tic of hers, the bottom of her staff making a quiet tink! as it hit the stone she rested upon. 

On cue, that noise drew attention, an unspoken signal of silence spread throughout the night as the Matoran understood. A wave of quiet washed over us like the waves of the coast, leaving a hushed tension like the waves leave wet sand. For a few moments, the only sound in the air was the crackle of the fire, the wood that fed it snapping as it was consumed in the warm glow. 

 After hanging for what felt like a moment too long, the sound of a horn, a singular long and brassy note, cut through the silence like a blade through grass, wavering with the breath of the Matoran playing it. As it faded, drumbeats filled the void that it left, deep, woody thumps bringing rhythm to the open air, soon joined by the horn. Deep, colorful notes filled the village, and I could easily imagine being drawn in from kio away towards this ceremony. I leaned forward instinctively as I heard a new sound, the quiet sound of feet in the sand, belonging to a group of Matoran in well-decorated ceremonial clothing. 

The music ebbed as the six Matoran dancers turned to face the audience, each wearing the colors of different elements and painted Kanohi imitations above their own masks. I saw them all hold out ceremonial weapons, each looking fearsome in the unstable flicker of the flame. Their masks were carved to resemble Great Kanohi, full of power and befitting Toa, but imperfect enough to never be mistaken for a true Kanohi. Yet, with the fire’s light behind them and the magic in the air, they seemed more real than the genuine article ever could. 

In unison, they drew their weapons, slow beats of the drums drawing out the power in their simple yet dramatic movements. The horn launched from the slow music of the beginning to a braver, more purpose-filled tune, and their movement followed, spears and blades striking the air with bravery and determination, with confidence befitting Toa. I couldn’t let myself blink for a second, utterly enraptured in the performance these Matoran gave. As I watched their well-practiced dance, I studied their ceremonial armor, and a realization began to form in the parts of my mind that weren’t fully enraptured in the ceremony. 

One dancer wore a Great Pakari, colored in an inversion of the warm whites and dusty blues of the one next to me -  the Toa before me could only be playing the part of Puigren. Beside her, back-to-back, the vivid armor of a Toa of Water fought the imagined threats, the pair constantly checking each other and guiding their team in the dutiful dance. The actress seemed every bit as brave as I could imagine the Turaga sitting next to me was when she was a Toa, and the ritualistic motions she took seemed like second nature. She struck, blocked, and turned the attacks she took back out with poise I had rarely seen from a Matoran, all the while moving as one with the song that rung out from the passionate instrumentalists behind the fire. Some part of me knew that it was just a dance, a rehearsed routine, and yet my soul understood the bravery and harmony that the Toa of Puigren’s team fought with as protectors, as heroes. 

Even though I knew, deep down, that it could not last, I clenched my fist as the horns and drums changed to a darker tone, a serious mood sweeping through the magic cast in the unstable rays of bonfire light. A seventh approached, wearing a gnarled, pointed mask that could only be worn by a Makuta, its power likely a sick twist on the powers given to us by the Great Spirit. They remained unnoticed, and the six dancing Toa were unaware, still in unison but no longer with the music, all while the danger crept up behind them. My heart tugged at me to shout and warn them, to save them from this threat, but even if I had tried, I couldn’t have changed a thing. No, I couldn’t save them, like I couldn’t save them years ago… 

The Makuta dancer struck, a blade colliding with the Toa of Water. A singular deep note from the horn held, seeming to almost freeze time as the Toa dancer was slain. She fell in time with the life of that note fading into what could almost be a solemn wail, the horror of the moment cast through sound. The other Toa vanquished the Makuta with quick, sweeping attacks, driving him back in a graceful display, the anger and passion to protect their sister not breaking their practiced, heroic strikes. As the rage in the air decayed into mourning, they crowded around their fallen sister, and bid her a desperate final farewell. 

The horn was silent now. Puigren’s actress stayed, collapsed, even as the others carried her fallen comrade away and went in separate directions. She was alone, and only the crackle of the flame and the drum were with her, having now taken the role of a heartbeat. She turned to the heavens and pleaded, the dancer praying to the Great Spirit for guidance with her motions, alone, her team now long left her. There was nothing but her, a heartbeat, and a prayer.

A powerful, hopeful tone filled the air as she rose. Was that prayer answered? Matoran, with their normal armor, walked into the stage, all looking lost and alone. Puigren’s actress stood tall and proud, drawing these lost Matoran in with broad arms. They shuffled towards her with uncertainty in their movements, and were met with grace. The wordless song told the rest of the story, a modest but hope-filled climax underscoring Puigren’s embrace, the story coming to a close, a tale fully told. 

A final note was held as the Matoran in front of the fire knelt with Puigren in prayer. A rushing sound was what finally drew my attention away from the performance, and I turned to the source. A coil of water wrapped around the flame as the note held, flowing from Pysie’s outstretched hands. As the horn’s sound faded, the water struck with a final drum beat and snuffed the fire out in one quick hiss, leaving us shrouded in darkness and silence before our eyes adjusted to the light of the moon and the stars. 

The Matoran erupted with cheers, celebrating the ceremony and what was no doubt another job well done to them. But all I had was silence. The villagers clambered off the seating structure, all talking amongst themselves with excitement and amazement, but I said nothing, and Puigren noticed almost immediately. 

“Do you understand now, Toa?” Her creaky voice cut through the commotion to reach me. “Your expressions say you seem to.” My jaw must have been dropped behind my mask, and I quickly struggled to collect myself as I turned to her. 

“Gavo-Koro…” I murmured. “You… led this village after your team disbanded.” My voice quivered, the emotions the performance had drawn from me utterly impossible to conceal. 

“Founded it.” She said, matter-of-factly. “Today is the seventy-first anniversary of this village’s founding. And despite knowing nothing of our village's history, you came today.” Her voice took on the tone of questioning me, as if she was trying to prove me a liar. There was nothing I could do but give her the truth, even if it wasn’t what she expected. 

“I…” My voice creaked as the words struggled to leave me. “...It was our Toa of Earth.” 

“Your?” She questioned, her tone holding firm. 

“I-I was a part of a team. T-Talaimh, he was the soul of it. His bravery and kindness…” My eyes had adjusted to the starlight now, yet I was staring at nothing at all. The darkness in the night sky seemed to stretch on forever, and it was the only thing that I could look to as my own story began to pour from me. “Something killed him. I think it was a Dark Hunter. But it doesn’t really matter, does it?” 

The commotion was dying down around me, Matoran returning to their huts, yet I remained with Puigren, my hands shaking, a beautiful performance unearthing memories I wasn’t ready for. And yet, she listened intently and quietly as I spoke. “We couldn’t look at each other and not see him. They all left for new teams,” my hand quivered as it wrapped into a fist. “And I was alone.” 

“Destiny,” Puigren said, her voice thoughtful. “In the end, Gavo-Koro was my destiny. Perhaps you were brought here to hear my story and find yours.” She stood up, hands wrapped around her staff, and began to hobble off in characteristic Turaga fashion, leaving me alone sitting on a rock by the embers of a fire. “But your destiny is not tonight,” her voice grew smaller with each step, “so sleep on it.” The Turaga I was used to were wise and gave passionate advice, and she was content to walk off with that.

I sat on that stone in the quiet and the dark, a great weight on my soul as I struggled to grapple with everything. The performance, my memory, Pysie’s touch… Pysie’s touch on my shoulder brought me back to reality. I looked up to her, and saw her yellow eyes glitter in the dark with a deeply concerned look in them. 

“Ohmeni…” She murmured, as my eyes diverted from hers in a moment of shame. 

“How much of that did you hear?” My voice was quiet, serious, and dry, my body deciding there was little emotion left to give. 

“I think I heard everything.” She said, moving in front of me and offering her hand. “Come on, Ohmeni. You need some rest. Let’s go back to the hut, okay?” I accepted it, my hand in her gentle grip as the rest of my body pushed me up without needing to pull on her, letting her lead me to the medicine hut to lay me down on the bed that barely fit me. 

We didn’t talk much that night, or the following morning. I needed quiet and time, which Pysie let me have, graciously. We said our polite goodbyes, and I left. I walked from the village to think, to give myself some space, leaving unsure of my return. If I had never returned, I would have regretted it for the rest of my life. I can’t imagine my life if I did. And I could never forget the next time I limped into Gavo-Koro.

#bionicle #bonkle #bonkles #my writing #bionicle fanfic #bionicle fanfiction #toa

[toa-kohutti]

A Gift The Great Spirit Left Unnamed Chapter 4:

Peaceful

Ohmeni returns to be healed again, but this time under less dire circumstances.

I can’t remember exactly how long it was when I returned to the village, but if I had to give a figure, it would be a month or so. I hadn’t strayed far this time, staying on the Southern Continent, but wrapping the whole way around the coast. It had taken plenty of time, and I had gotten into a few scraps, but I was still much stronger than before the fight with that venomous Rahi that destiny decided for me. I was nursing a wound, having wrapped some poorly-made flax fabric over my right arm, my biceps somewhat torn and armor damaged, but I was able to make it through the week as I completed my route around the island. 

My arm smarted as I walked, enough to bother me, but not making me dull and mindless. I had survived much longer with much worse, and there was a certain pride in that. But I wasn’t looking for pride, I was looking for peace. And so, a wave of relief washed over me as my boots scraped against the dirt and stone as I stepped over the hill and saw the scattering of huts against the coast, a rickety dock with a few boats forming a tiny, makeshift port. I didn’t even know the name of the Koro, but it was a welcome sight nonetheless. 

I nearly skidded down the hill, my ankles pointed sideways as tiny stones scattered underneath my feet. This far, I could see a few Matoran, one of which shot up and put their flattened hands above their eyes to clear the light from their vision, before turning around and talking to their peers. News of my return slowly spread, and a group abandoned their work to gather around and see. I was used to others being surprised when I appeared, usually because of my stature, but it was still a little strange to me to see them all gathered around to discuss me with apparent interest. They didn’t seem like they were gawking at me, more excited. 

When I made it over, they shuffled over as a group to let me through, but I decided not to stride through first. Instead, I figured I ought to greet them. I pulled myself into a squat, still much taller than the Matoran but a little closer to their level. 

“Hello,” I said, warmly, despite my voice being weighed down slightly by pain. “It’s good to see you all.” A hustling whisper spread across the crowd, with one particularly alert and interested Matoran stepping forward to speak. 

“You’re Toa Ohmeni, right?” He said, cocking his head. His black-and-brown armor was a bit of a standout in a village filled with tones of blue, but he seemed to fit right in with them anyway. “What brings you back here? Are you here for the fire tonight?” If it wasn’t for his interested tone, it might come off as rude, but I was sure he meant it in earnest. 

“Well, I came back to see Pysie,” I twisted myself slightly to show them my arm, wrapped in the scratchy flax, hearing one Matoran give a quiet oh of sympathy. “But I’m happy to see all of you.” That caused another small bustle in the crowd, and as they enjoyed that tiny bit of excitement, I tried to count them, landing on about nine, with a few starting to join the fray. 

“Us?” The Onu-Matoran who had spoken first broke the bustle in surprise. “What do you mean?” Pairs of eyes looked at me with wonder, masks of many colors barely hiding the little lights. 

“Well, if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have made it out,” I explained. “I owe you all. I’m planning to stay for a time, and pay you back for your village’s kindness.” Now that had excited them. The mumbles and whispers were much louder, anticipation sweeping through the growing crowd. As they talked among themselves, a familiar mask showed up, blue and orange. It was Gava! She hadn’t spotted me yet, it seemed, but when she did, I could see her rushing over in excitement. 

“Ohmeni!” She half-shouted, skidding to a halt in front of me, clearly giddy at the sight of me. She halted suddenly, startled, before dropping to the ground in a gesture of respect. “I-I mean, w-w-we welcome you, Toa!” She scrambled to perform the ceremonial welcome, causing the other Matoran to do similar, but much less coordinated motions. 

“Everyone, everyone!” I said, stifling a laugh at their awkward attempt at reverence. “It’s alright, you don’t need to do all of this. You’re welcoming enough already.” The Matoran lifted their heads slowly, until a familiar thunk sounded. 

“Don’t you go putting ideas in their head, Toa, and especially not today.” Turaga Puigren’s walking stick gave a rhythmic thunk as she walked forward, letting out a scratchy tut-tut. “They need practice, don’t they?” 

“Well, I don’t think so.” I said, rising. “Your village is perfectly welcoming. It’s why I’ve returned, after all.” I pointed out to the blue-and-white elder. It was seen as improper to disagree with a Turaga like that, but I didn’t particularly care. What mattered more to me was letting the Matoran know how much I appreciated them.

In reply, she let out a creaky groan. “No respect for tradition.” She scolded gently before turning towards the gaggle of Matoran. “Let her through to Pysie. And get back to your work.” She tapped her stick on the ground, causing them all to shuffle around. She was harsh, yes, but the village seemed happy despite it, or maybe because of it. Gava was the only one to not shuffle to the side, instead walking towards me and taking my hand as she did before to lead me to the hut. 

We began to walk towards the hut, still with my hand in hers in awkward fashion. I was bent down and half-stumbling as I was led by Gava, who was already unusually short for a Matoran, and myself in turn unusually tall for a Toa. I waited for a moment when most of the village was out of earshot to speak. “You know, you don’t have to do that whole thing for me.” 

“Turaga Puigren is a stickler for old ways,” She whispered, as we reached the hut. “If you didn’t figure that out already.” Her tone seemed a little sour, but I could tell that she appreciated her Turaga from my last visit. She went into the hut first, releasing my hand. Smart, because it would be near impossible for one of us to not tumble if she didn’t. 

When I ducked into the hut that held the village’s healer, I sighed in relief, swinging my sack off my shoulder and over the blade-like armor on my torso as I heard an excited gasp. Sure enough, when I looked, it was an excited Pysie. 

“Ohmeni!” She said, shooting up into an alert kneeling out of crossed legs. “You’re back!” She seemed to be so overjoyed to see me that she didn’t notice any damage to my frame. Luckily, Gava politely cleared her throat, hoping to get Pysie’s attention where I needed it. 

“Sorry, sorry.” She said, a bit sheepishly. “What have you come here for?” She tried to shift back into the personality of a healer, but it wasn’t quite working out for her, the excitement of my arrival clearly bubbling underneath her placid tone. She looked me up and down, before spotting my arm, and reaching for it, taking my hand. 

I felt something jump inside me, like I was startled, but without fear. Her other hand ran up my arm to gently grasp the flax and unwind it, revealing the gash in my arm, half-healed already. A tinge of embarrassment at not being the strong and perfect Toa shot through me, but I didn’t shy away from her touch, fighting the tiniest shame and letting myself be open to her. 

“You set my expectations a bit high last time,” She said, gently tracing the gash in my armor, causing me to shiver a bit. “I can get this fixed up in minutes, and you can get back on the trail today.”

“I’m not leaving today,” I said, with a bit of confidence in my voice despite the embarrassment of the situation. “I’m staying for a day or two. I want to show my gratitude to your village for saving my life this time.” 

“...Really?” She said, looking me right in the eyes with surprise in her gaze. “I thought you were a wandering Toa. Don’t you need to get back to, you know,” she gave me a slight shrug, “ Toa things? Saving Matoran?” 

“Well, normally, yes,” I conceded. “But…” I trailed off before a slightly sly smile formed behind my mask. “Somebody told me that I need time to rest,” I said, taking a slight bit of pleasure in catching her in her own advice when I probably shouldn’t be. “And I trust that certain somebody’s advice after what she’s done for me.” 

“...Oh.” She said, her gaze sinking down and her voice filled with a measure of  embarrassment. “Well…” she searched for words before stammering, struggling to form a coherent sound. I decided to try and help her out of it by changing the subject. 

“Speaking of showing gratitude…” I said, reaching for my bag and opening it. “This is for a certain someone.” I drew a protodermic disk cast in a mostly-opaque white, with etchings of swooped lines and straight ones forming the image of a tube with things traveling through it, the etching filled in with a natural green color, along with the digits 5-7-5 in one of the broad curves. 

Gava perked up, cocking her head to look at the Kanoka I had produced from my bag. “Is that a…” She trailed off, her excitement clearly struggling against the need to be professional. 

“It is,” I said, holding the disk out to her. “A Kanoka from Le-Metru, just for you.” She grabbed it quickly, gently lifting it out of my hand and immediately holding it up to her head. It looked massive next to her, being slightly shorter than the average Matoran. She looked funny, but her earnestness was truly wonderful, and worth the effort I went to in order to bring one to her. 

“Five… that’s Le-Metru, obviously,” she thought aloud, a finger tracing the digits. “Seven… that’s regeneration, and five means it’s pretty powerful…” She was amazed at her gift, and I looked to Pysie, and saw her smile at her apprentice’s excitement. I couldn’t help but grin. 

“All correct.” I said, chuckling a little to Pysie, who returned my laugh. “I had to trade a bunch of scrap to get that. It’s hard to find good Metru Nui disks outside of Ta-Metru, but I managed somehow.” Gava looked up to me with grateful, honest eyes. 

“...Thank you for letting me see this. I’ve always wanted to see a Kanoka in the protodermis.” She nodded solemnly before holding it out to me, expecting me to take it. “Not even the traders have these.” 

“It’s yours, Gava.” I said, to her amazement. “You can keep it. Just be careful. Le-Metru disks-” 

“They fly farther, I know!” She said, giddy at her new gift. “I’ll be careful, I promise!” She said, as Pysie shot me a glance that told me she wouldn’t be that careful. “Can I go outside?” She asked Pysie, to a nod as she hastily left, a pile of tablets falling over in her wake. 

Pysie shook her head as the pile settled, making a quiet, grinding clatter. “That’s very nice of you, but I hope it doesn’t have consequences,” she said. Foolish Matoran were the result of many cautionary tales in Metru Nui, and the ones about the damage a disc could do were unfortunately true. “Especially today, when she has a lot of work to do.” 

“I had to do something to repay you two,” I said. “And besides, I figure that will sate her wanderlust for a time. At least, I hope it will.” 

“I hope so too,” Pysie said wearily, before turning back to me with a renewed attitude of care. “Now, let’s get you fixed up.” She grabbed my hand again, running her hand up my arm before taking a deep breath. “I can fix this without taking your armor off.” A finger of hers began to glow softly along with her mask before she gently pressed it into my flesh, causing me to gasp in pain before the gentle, healing warmth began to soothe me. 

“Ah…” I let out a hissing gasp before I exhaled, remembering to breathe. The feeling of her healing touch was less intense than before, but it felt satisfying. My body took it in like I needed it, and I closed my eyes and let my body embrace it. Her finger gently slid down the gash, slowly mending the muscles underneath her touch. It was only a few minutes, and this time I didn’t pass out. I could appreciate it all, every moment of healing sublimating through me. It was a tiny, wonderful moment of peace. 

When her touch broke, I looked at her, my eyes not fully open. I saw her gaze meet me, filled with… surprise? Her expression was unknown to me, and it took a few seconds to realize that I, too, must be looking at her strangely. I turned away in embarrassment, feeling sparks of shame course through me. I reached for the floor of the hut to ground myself, but before I could, she touched me again - and the shock coursed through her. 

“Eep!” She gasped, recoiling. “I wasn’t expecting that,” She said, a visible shiver running through her. “I almost forgot you were a Toa of Lightning.” 

“I’m sorry.” I said, shamefully. I didn’t want to hurt her, ever. And I did it again, the same way as last time. “I tried to-” 

“It’s okay.” She cut me off, putting both hands on my shoulders. “I’m not mad at you, okay?” She said, tilting her head to the side a little. “Besides, the feeling is… interesting.” She said, in a tone that quietly revealed this was a confession. 

Interesting? How could being zapped be interesting? I held any questions back as I let her touch me, and gently breathed out, trying to release any tension before I spoke. “…Do you have anything I can patch my armor with?” I said, flexing my now-healed arm. 

“I have a Kiril, silly,” she pulled out the mask that I had forgotten about and turned away to change them, “Now come here.” I held my arm out again, sheepishly, as she pressed a glowing hand matching the blue-glowing mask to my armor, causing it to knit itself back into proper form. It took less than three minutes to be done, or at least done to my standards. “Do you want me to fix the rest of this plate?” She said, pointing to a scratch that hadn’t pierced my armor, which the Kiril had started to fix but didn’t finish. 

“...No, that’s too much work for me to put on you.” I said, thankfully. “You’ve done more than enough for me.” I felt bad making her do this work now that it was done, despite the fact that I made my way here for it. “Thank you, Pysie.” I said, my voice carrying a serious weight to it. 

She smiled, putting her hand on my left shoulder and looking into my eyes. “It’s my pleasure.” She meant it, I could tell. But… why? How could doing this work for someone who isn’t even giving her a single widget be a pleasure? But it was for her, somehow. Our gazes locked, staring into each other’s eyes, silently, watching each other, trying to read something out of each other. We held that for a moment, until we heard the sound of the hut’s door opening and Gava walking in. 

“Thank you so much, Ohmeni,” She said, as Pysie and I quickly separated and turned to face her. She was too busy looking at her disc, still pristine, and thankfully, seemingly unthrown. “This is probably one of the nicest things anyone’s ever done for me.” She stared at it as she flopped on the floor, the impact of her hind end on the ground making the pile of tablets shift and become even more messy, paying no mind to it as she did so. Her wonder-induced obliviousness helped save us from the thing that we both were seemingly worried about - being caught doing something strange. As I watched the Matoran marvel at her gift, I started to think to myself. What exactly were we afraid of? And why did we both want to just touch and stare at each other? It wasn’t anything I’d ever heard of in other Matoran or Toa. Pysie seemed to fidget a bit awkwardly as her body language revealed that she was urging me to speak. 

“You’re welcome, Gava,” I said, finally breaking the silence. “I thought that you would like it.” A trite answer, but an honest one. The awkwardness still hung in the air until Pysie spoke, breaking the quiet tension.

“Well, I guess you’re all better now, aren’t you?” Pysie clearly struggled to find a way to broach whatever she had to say, but she turned to me with a bit of excitement in her eyes. “So why don’t we get out of this hut? There’s still some time before the fire!” 

“I, uh, yeah!” I stumbled over my words, trying to match her energy. “I mean, not that this hut is bad or anything, but-”

Pysie started towards the door. “Come on. You need to see some more of Gavo-Koro!” She coaxed me out, still failing to draw Ghavialia’s attention, swinging her arm towards the door. “Besides, you look like you can carry a lot of firewood!” She teased me, successfully drawing out my laughter. 

“Alright, alright,” I giggled, before following her out of the door and into the warm, sunshine-filled coast, happy to go wherever she would lead me. 

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