Escape

Escape is the first installment in the Spirit Fable Epic Series by BZPower and C.I.R.C.L.E. member Kohila.

One
The village of Tai-Koro began to glisten as the rays of the previously dimmed Lightstones cast their illuminating beams upon it. Daybreak in the colony only meant one thing to the Matoran inhabitants: another day of labor was about to begin. As Kohilå began to stir, he groggily rubbed his photoreceptors and sat up on his Protodermic slab of a bed. He was a Kur-Matoran; a very energetic one. However, he was always sluggish in the morning because of his favor to the sounds of the night. The Inikirikori chirping lullabies to the settlement, the baying of the Kavinika as they began to hunt. Still, all of these things were not present in the dim morning light, and Kohilå sure needed them to survive the day. “Ugh,” he moaned as he swung his legs over the edge of the slab to stand. He stood up, wobbled slightly, and grabbed his favored chain from a crude hook in the wall of his dwelling. He approached the doorway and stepped out to the cool morning mist. * * * Elsewhere, a group of Sebåu hoarded, ready for an attack command against the unsuspecting village of Tai-Koro. A few Sāmiu were also scattered amongst the crowd, sharpening their claws against each other. The bloodthirsty troglodytes were becoming more and more anxious for the signal from the commanding Nåk to storm the village. Finally, the Nåk slammed its’ Meteor Hammer against a large geode, shattering it to pieces. On cue, the evil and forceful creatures descended to the soon-to-be destroyed village of Tai-Koro. * * * The gears of the day that had begun slowly for Kohilå had finally sped up like a clockwork toy Burnak. He tended to the Rahi that he and another fellow named Zåhåku kept within their small but busy Rahi shop. “The Rahi Stop”, as it was called, was the center of attention for all Matoran who wished to develop an emotional bond to a Rahi of their choice. Eventually, they would naturally die or be eaten by bigger, stronger Rahi. They would feel a brief period of sadness, but that feeling would dissipate and they would adopt another Rahi. It was an endless and pointless cycle, Kohilå thought, but it made up his living. Kohilå took advantage of the brief absence of customers to finish organizing the various containers behind his makeshift counter made of a sturdy wood. He sorted through texts, a few Kanohi, a couple Kanoka, knives... He stuck himself in the hand with a silver blade. Reacting to the pain, he jerked his hand upward and began to quickly rise from his squat position. In his pain, he mistakenly whacked his head on the edge of the counter, effectively doubling his agony. Finally submitting to the pain, he let himself fall back on the dust floor of the shop, waiting for his nervous system to cease the rhythmic and throbbing electric pulses. After a few minutes, he finally began to obtain his composure once more. Looking out towards the main road, he noticed a faint appearance of a dust cloud forming on the horizon. Curiously, he squinted at the sight to get a better glimpse at the rogue dust devil. His eyes widened when he noticed various dots of red and chartreuse. Atemu used to tell stories about the Sebåu; and that cloud... Preparing for the worst, he dumped the contents of one of the containers out on the counter. Two knives and a few Kanoka clattered to the desk, much to Kohilå’s luck. He grabbed his rucksack that was leaning against the wall of the small store and put the Kanoka and one of the knives in it. If Zåhåku shows up, I want him to be able to defend himself, Kohilå thought. He sat his rucksack on the ground and began to release the various Rahi he had kept for future customers. Some Nui-Båuk, Burnak, and his rare Ohee scrambled out of their prisons, confused and happy about their release. “Run now,” Kohilå muttered to the beasts before collecting his rucksack and running out the door, the Rahi following behind. Kohilå emerged to the streets of Tai-Koro only to witness the Matoran of his beloved hometown being harassed by freakish troglodyte creatures. “The River Hāpi!” he shouted out loud, only to attract the attention of one of the red creatures. He paced towards the northeastern road, following behind a Ga-Matoran wearing a blue Great Miru. Probably got the same idea as me, he thought as he ran out of the village. * * * ''Make dead. Run weaklings out of village'', thought a lone Sāmiu as he pushed a black Matoran off the top of a dwelling. They had been sent to lay the settlement to waste without the knowledge as to why. Still, none of his kind dared to question orders, so they proceeded with the task without restraint. Looking to his left, he spotted two puny villagers rushing out of the village. The Sāmiu leapt off of his perch and began to surreptitiously chase after the pair. The hunt was on, and the Sāmiu couldn’t wait to catch its’ prey.

Two
Click Whrrr Chnkt Finally, Dotå sighed. He had been fidgeting with his mechanical left arm since his mining shift had begun. Truly, he didn't care for his labor of crystal mining, mainly because it was the cause of his lost original left arm, but it was his duty to the Great Spirit Mata Nui. He had been assigned to one of the smaller, unexplored areas of the Tiuan Crystal Mines. The entire cavern was spectacular; shiny gems of all shapes and colors jutted out of the ugly gray stone, as if they were trying to brighten up the monument to tastelessness that was the caverns. It seems, Dotå thought, that they've succeeded. Snapping back into reality, he lifted his ProtoSteel-tipped pickaxe and began to swing down on a segment of the cave wall. He listened to the rhythmic clicks and tings that echoed for kios and started to form a percussive pattern in his mind. Soon he was lost in the sounds, his mind drifting to a realm of mental limbo, listening and absorbing the various sounds. clink, ting ting, clink, clink, ting, ting, clink, ting... PUMM Dotå's eyes snapped open at the sudden interruption in the rhythm. Before him, he gasped at the sight of a large, gaping hole in the wall where he was mining. Out of curiosity, he reached into his miner's kit and pulled out a hammer, chisel, and a Lightstone. He precisely set the tip of the chisel on the outer border of the orifice and whacked it with the hammer. He repeated the action many more times until the hole was large enough for him to fit through. Taking in a deep breath, he placed his hands on the frame of the Matoran-sized tunnel and began to crawl through. Lying on his stomach, he wriggled and pushed through the crevice. These walls..., he thought. ''They're polished and... smooth. There's no way that this was made naturally!'' Keeping the thought in his mind, he pushed forward with his hands and arms until he tumbled down into a large, dimly lit cavern. He fell, all the while yelling at the top of his lungs until a cushion of air formed below him, slowing his descent. He was gently placed on the floor of the cave, which was lined with different leaves and grasses. He looked around him, and noted that the entire place was lined with shrubs and greenery. Standing up, he began searching for the source of his savior. He saw a shadow to the right, but it quickly disappeared. His eyes were widened now, unsure of he was only saved to be a live meal for some type of Rahi. Suddenly, a soft but stern voice from behind him shouted, "Hi!" Dotå jumped, landing square on his back. He looked up and noted a dark green Kanohi Rode curled into a soft smile. ''A dark green Rode? Who do I know that wears a-'' "My name is Riålå; a Toa of Air. You might've heard of me before." Of course! Dotå thought. ''The legendary Toa of Air! 'Mistress of the Sky'!'' "Of course I have!" Dotå said a little too enthusiastically. "You're one of the greatest Toa known! But, rumors said that you were missing; dead, even." Her smile half-faded. "Aye; my disappearance is the root of many a rumor." She walked towards the center of the dwelling and reached to the ground. Dotå eyed her curiously as one of the most graceful and beautiful Toa he had ever seen. Her light blue eyes sparkled, illuminating her soft and gentle features that were still graceful, even in her old age. She then danced her fingers along the leaves until it dipped between a few, only to rise again, with a handle and door with it. "Come," she beckoned, starting down the dank and dull staircase that led to Mata-Nui-knows-where. Not wanting to upset the Toa, Dotå stumbled towards the large opening and clambered down the staircase himself. He reached up and resealed the hatch, beginning an adventure that would last a lifetime.