#ghavialia

[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.

[toa-kohutti]

A Gift The Great Spirit Left Unnamed Chapter 8:

Free

In the setting sun over Gavo-Koro, a hero is hailed and promises are made.

"Toa?" 

The first word to break through the amazed whispers was from an awed Matoran. The sense of sudden wonder coursed throughout the crowd, and that meant Pysie and I as well. We looked at each other in disbelief for a second before our eyes shot back to Ghavialia, no longer the shorter-than-average Matoran I knew. She was tall and broad-shouldered, nothing like Pysie and I, and yet parts of her armor were like ours. Yet far more were from other Toa, her armor a mix of pieces I did and didn't recognize. It was like she had no single inspiration as a Toa, and the blend of shapes and styles from all around the universe showed in her form.

"I… am now a Toa," Gava seemed brave, but nervous. She lowered her Kanoka launcher, stowing it on her back, her stance relaxing somewhat. "And I am duty-bound to become this village's newest protector." The words seemed rehearsed, but genuine. If I knew her from the time we'd spend in each other's company, I knew she meant them.

"We welcome you, Toa Ghavialia," Loam rushed to the front again and took his knee, showing his deference to her. "We welcome you to Gavo-Koro!" 

A wave of Matoran knelt before her, hardly in sync but the gestures all showing their effort. Gava looked unsure what to do at this development, her eyes darting between Pysie and I as we stood alone in the crowd. I looked to Pysie, and then nodded. We both bent down into a gesture of respect alongside the Matoran, lowering ourselves in near unison to show our respect to this new hero. 

"Thank… you?" She was clearly struggling on what to say, but as we all stood, she seemed genuinely touched by her friends performing the social ritual for her, showing a deference to her that she never expected.

"Where were you?" "What were you doing?" "Did you fight a Rahi?" "What does it feel like to be a Toa?" The questions flooded the new Toa, and she was clearly overwhelmed. She shook her head and let out a polite noise that sounded like a choked attempt at a chuckle. "One at a time, please," she said, their sudden admiration a burden. "I'll be happy to answer your questions, but I can only do one at a time!" 

This was usually the moment where Puigren would slam her staff to gain attention. But she simply watched our direction, a gaze filtered through the eyeholes of her noble Pakari. She looked towards Pysie, no doubt, and so I turned to my… my dearest friend.

Pysie's hands trembled. She was doing her best to keep her composure, but I could tell that she could barely handle it. I reached out to her, about to take her hand in mine, but it slipped through my fingers when she turned away. She wasn't looking at anyone. Her back faced the Matoran, faced me, and she ran, quietly rushing through the village, anywhere but here. 

I turned to Puigren with a look that I hoped read as a quiet plea for help. She shook her head solemnly, and began to follow Pysie, while the crowd questioned Ghavialia, not a single Matoran seeming to be the wiser.

I followed Pysie with Puigren, finding the Toa hiding behind a hut, alone. The Turaga used her staff to block me, urging me to stay behind as she strode forward. I watched, as I believed she wanted me to. Pysie sat on the sandy ground, dew covering her armor, fits of fog and vapor threatening to form tiny storm clouds as they orbited her. Her emotions had driven her power out of control. 

Puigren simply walked through the well-saturated scene and placed a hand on Pysie’s shaky shoulder. "That's enough of that," she ordered, "and now listen to me."

"I'm sorry!" Pysie's apology came out of her as a cracked yelp, struggling to maintain itself. "I'm sorry I'm not enough! I'm sorry!" Her whole body quivered, and her power only seemed to feed a tiny tempest more. "I'm sorry, I'm-!"

"Enough!" Puigren slammed her staff on the ground, cutting Pysie off suddenly. "Listen to me!" 

Pysie stopped, just as suddenly. Her sobs became heavy breaths in an instant, and she turned to Puigren, unsure eyes poking through her mask. She just stared at Puigren, nothing to say yet fearing the worst.

"You're not a failure to me, Pysie," Puigren said, holding a steady hand on the Toa. "This isn't about whether you're a good Toa or not."

"Then," she croaked out, "why… replace me?" 

Puigren sighed. "Because it's what you , not the villagers, need." 

The Toa gave her Turaga a blank look. "W-what…?"

"It's my job to help guide you towards your destiny, Pysie." Puigren's tone was stern but not unfair. "I cannot keep you here if the Great Spirit wills otherwise." 

"But…" The Toa was so unsure. "What about my duty as a healer? Doesn't the village still need me?"

"The village has another healer. You taught her yourself," Puigren pointed out. "And you're needed elsewhere. The will of the Great Spirit shows in you, and it tells me that I must set you free." 

"Am I… not a failure," Pysie's weak voice quivered even more now. "And how do you know I need to go? Wh-why? What did I do?"

“You didn’t do anything other than be yourself.” The Turaga was steady, but with a stern tone. “Your destiny came for you, and it’s been obvious to me ever since.” She turned to face me, just as I suddenly realized that I was standing in her view, having failed to hide behind the hut that was far too short to conceal me anyway. Her staff pointed towards me, and Pysie looked up at me, standing there, having heard every word. “Come, Toa Ohmeni.” Puigren commanded as I watched Pysie’s face, the growing fear of her reaction rising in my chest. 

I obeyed, though, and I sat down with Pysie. “Hey,” I murmured, as I took the chin of her mask and gently urged her to look at me instead of the ground. “Careful with the water.” I gently ran my fingers over her mask to wipe away the dew, and took her hand in my other. “I don’t want to see your mask’s pretty paint be ruined.” 

“Stop,” Pysie’s voice was choked by a sad laughter. It was clear she appreciated my presence, even if I was spending time fussing over her when she didn’t need it. “It’s okay.” 

“I just care.” I said with a soft smile. I cared a lot, and I hadn’t the words for it all. “You’ve spent all this time worrying about me, I get to do it a little to you.” I cupped her cheek, and stared into her yellow eyes, which held a stare before darting away. 

“N-not in front of the Turaga…” She said, sheepishly. 

“This is precisely why, Pysie.” Puigren said, her tone unerring. 

“Why what?” Pysie’s doubt and negativity returned, but this time pouring outwards. She shot up, and I felt the water in the air rush to meet her. “Am I being kicked out because of Ohmeni?” The thought alone seemed to arouse such intense anger in her, a protective instinct kicking in. “She did nothing wrong, and-”

“Enough of these… histrionics, Pysie!” Puigren snapped, causing us both to flinch. “I’m not here to banish you!” She smacked her staff into the soft ground with a muted thump . “Ghavialia’s destiny is your chance for emancipation, young one. I made another Toa so I could set you free!” 

The realization of why Puigren had made Ghavialia into a Toa finally set in for the both of us, and we turned to look at the harsh Turaga in front of us. She was setting Pysie… free? Releasing her from her duty? So she could…

“...Are you letting me… go with Ohmeni?” Pysie asked. “You… don’t want me to stay here?” She was nonplussed by her strict Turaga granting her a choice like this. 

“Stay, go, whichever you please,” Puigren folded her arms. “You two are your own Toa. You can decide to stay in Gavo-Koro if you want, you can choose to leave and explore the universe,” she said, studying Pysie’s expression. “But on the condition that you promise me one thing.

“What is it?” Pysie said, slowly regaining her composure. 

“I need you to promise me…” She trailed off, her eyes focused on me for a moment, before they floated back to Pysie. “That you will not hold back from one another out of fear. But far, far more, I beg that you do not let it rule you in turn.” 

Pysie was without words for several moments, and I watched many thoughts cross her mask. “What do you mean…?” 

“What you feel for Ohmeni… it’s what I felt for Laminae.” Puigren’s voice was somber, her head hung slightly to the ground and her gaze away from us. “We didn’t have the chances that I prayed for from the Great Spirit. But you do,” She moved forward and cupped Pysie’s face in her worn-down hands. “And you must go on, but be careful, and don’t let it blind you. Embrace the passion, but don’t let it control you. For Laminae’s sake, for my sake…” She trailed off, taking a deep breath. “But most of all, for your own sake!” 

“Your admiration for her…” Pysie said, the revelation leaving her stunned. 

“Is one and the same as yours for her.” Puigren’s gaze turned to me before she released Pysie’s face and took a step back. “I beg you, make this promise.”

Pysie paused, turning towards me with an unsure expression. Everything was a lot for her to take in, and I didn’t blame her for not knowing what to do. So I spoke first. 

“I promise, Turaga Puigren.” I said, laying my hand over my heartlight. 

Pysie looked to me with eyes of awe, before closing them, taking a deep breath, and laying her hand over her own heartlight. “I promise. I promise to enjoy every moment with Ohmeni. For as long as she’ll let me.”

“I’ll let you for as long as you wish.” I smiled towards her, and she looked at me, matching my smile. 

“Then you have my blessing, Toa.” Puigren slammed her staff into the ground, and turned. “Now come back to the village proper. There’s a celebration to prepare, and you’ve made me walk enough already.”

Pysie shook her head as Puigren began to hobble off. “I hope you’re ready to carry more firewood,” she joked, weakly. 

“I’d carry a million bundles of firewood for you.” I said, standing up and offering her a hand, which she took, quickly leaping to her feet. 

“Then let’s get moving, Ohmeni,” she chuckled, looking up at me with an unmistakable expression of soft admiration. 

“First…” I moved in front of her, grabbing her head and moving so our masks’ mouths touched. A gentle spark flowed through Pysie, to which she let out a warm, contented giggle. She matched my touch with another, making a quiet chu as she did earlier, before grabbing my hand and starting towards the village. I laughed to myself as she dragged me towards the village, just happy to be with her.

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

    Us Toa and Turaga sat on a stone each, with her, Pysie, Puigren, and myself all enjoying conversation as we sat by the fire, a less disciplined show of festivities now passed. The Matoran gave a celebratory dance for their new Toa, but instead of reverence, play and excitement filled the air. The village was lively, a new hero infusing new energy. And we sat and talked, laughing as the three others discussed all the happenings that I had missed during my absence. 

    “I’m surprised that you managed to do all that with just a disc launcher,” I replied to Gava’s latest story - saving the village from a Muaka that had somehow rampaged its way down to the coast. “That was real smart of you.”

    “Well, I borrowed it from Aylun,” the Le-Matoran that Pysie had mentioned so much, “so he deserves plenty of credit. As does Pysie, for chaining up the poor thing.”

    “Poor thing?,” Puigren groaned. “It tore apart Ausean’s hut!” 

    “It was scared and alone,” Pysie pointed out, “if I didn’t know where I was, I’d freak out too!” 

    “I don’t think you’d be threatening to grab a Matoran and shake her until her head flies off!” Puigren retorted, to our laughter. She grumbled silently and turned to Gava. “This was, however, what solidified the fact that you will be a fine Toa. Your bravery and quick thinking made my choice clear.” 

    “And I am still very honored.” Gava gave a slight bow to Puigren, who lightly rapped the rock with her staff’s end as a small signifier that she could continue. “To think that my little Metru Nui disk launcher turned into this…” She marveled at her own Toa Tool, that same launcher, transformed from a half-bio Matoran tool into a long, sleek launcher, giving a powerful impression befitting a Toa. 

“It’s impressive.” I looked Gava up and down, really focusing on her unique armor for the first time since she had presented herself to the Matoran. She was taller than me, which while rather rare, wasn’t impossible. After all, Talaimh was around her height… The tiniest twinge of grief rang in me before I put it out of my mind and focused on her. She had swoops and curves in her armor that looked like Pysie’s, no doubt, but the broader frame of the classic heroes every Matoran heard tales about. She didn’t look like her inspiration as a Toa was one, like so many of us, like how my armor was but a new shape of the heroes of the peninsula I called home. Instead, there were bits and pieces from others all around. The copper-colored wavy plates, that was Pysie for sure, but her leg plating and ankle guards reminded me of the Toa of my home. I smiled a little behind my mask, hoping that I did inspire another Toa, even if only in part.

“Everyone sure seems to be impressed with what I’ve turned out to be.” Ghavialia scratched the back of her neck, a nervous gesture more than a direct one. “But I’m not sure what exactly I’m supposed to be doing. I’ve seen Toa do their hero thing from the outside, but…” 

“It’s so different when you actually are one.” Pysie had moved close to Gava, and placed a hand on the larger Toa of Water’s arm. “I understand. In a lot of ways, I’m not sure that I have even figured it out. I’m just trying to do my best with what I have.” 

“But you’re a good Toa,” Gava said, looking down at Pysie. It surely must have been strange for her, with her spending the years Mata Nui only knows looking up at her instead. “You taught me how to do, well, everything I know. You taught me healing,” she reached up and touched her own mask, the design upon it now scuffed, “and bravery. I wouldn’t have been nearly so brave when the Muaka arrived if it wasn’t for the fact that I knew you would be there with us, and that I could face danger with nothing to fear.” 

Pysie seemed momentarily speechless. It was as if the obvious had only now been shown to her with Gava’s affirmations. “...Thank you,” she said, moving closer and leaning into her friend, shoulder pressed against bicep. I felt it only right to chime in as well. 

“You know, I’m still lost in a lot of ways,” I admitted. “Without my team, I felt so… directionless. That’s why I wandered for so many years. I didn’t have a plan, or even think that I could make one that would survive any sort of contact with the real world. All I did was go and try to be useful. Perhaps then I could be worth something, if that makes sense.” Before I knew it, my attempt at affirmation had turned into a confessional. “And that’s how I wound up here, in the end.” 

Pysie reached out to me, the two glowing yellow eyes beckoning me from behind her mask. She could just barely touch me while keeping contact with Gava, and so I shifted a little to let her fingers touch my armor, and wrap my hand around hers for a brief moment. “You know, I think it’s because you didn’t let yourself believe that you deserved help,” she said, gently stroking my lower arm. “I mean, until you couldn’t deny it any longer.” Leave it to the healer to come away with a diagnosis. I couldn’t make this about me, though, so I spoke again to bring attention to Ghavialia once more.

“You’ve got a wonderful, faithful village behind you, Toa Ghavialia.” I said, moving closer and offering my hand. “Your Matoran and Turaga will support you if you let them. They have faith in you…” I trailed off, as I looked over Ghavialia’s shoulder to see a group of excited Matoran pointing at us and talking amongst themselves, a bolt of excitement running through them, the likes of which I hadn’t seen in decades. “...Can you promise me that you’ll have faith in them?” 

“What is there to promise?,” she asked in response. “I can’t imagine living without faith in my friends.” 

“That’s the spirit,” I said, as I smiled at the Toa and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. I looked over towards Puigren, hoping to find some sort of secret expression that said more than words could about her struggles as a Turaga, something that the conversion we had awoke. But in her stead was only the empty air, slightly smoky from the campfire behind us. 

“Where’s Puigren?” Pysie said, as if she picked up on my own brainwaves. “She was right there…” 

“I’m not sure,” Gava said, sitting up and nearly causing the still-leaning Pysie to fall. “But there’s work to do. Now that I’ve found a new destiny, and we’re all together…” 

“You’re suggesting we take on the duty of cleanup!,” Pysie groaned a little. “Alright, let’s get moving then,” she said, with a slight grumble of annoyance but not refusal. 

“Shouldn’t we start with the campfire?,” I suggested. “I’ve seen all too often that they can spiral out of control.” 

“Yes, let’s!” Pysie leapt up, and tugged on Gava’s arm. “Hey, we can make a show of it! We can show them your powers as a Toa of Water!” 

“R-really?” She was taken aback. “But… Toa aren’t supposed to be showy. You’re supposed to be d-dutiful and stuff, right?”

“Well, we’re not supposed to be needlessly so, true,” the shorter Toa said. “But we’re in the company of friends. We can be whatever we want to be, so long as we’re still dedicated to doing the right thing and being heroes when we’re needed.” She looked up at me, her eyes beaming. “Ohmeni helped me remember that.”

I didn’t know what exactly I had done, but… it felt warming inside to hear that. “After all, we just had a ceremony. Why don’t you show the villagers what you can do?”

“Well, I guess you two have decided for me,” Gava said, sheepishly.

The pair stood up, with Gava and Pysie each taking a side of the campfire, the clamor around falling into a lull. The younger Toa’s pose was unsure, while Pysie’s feet were planted in the sand, locked into a stable stance with legs spread and knees bent slightly. Pysie nodded to Gava, who copied her stance, but with less confidence. I could tell from far away that Gava was nervous, stage fright clear as day from her little motions.

Pysie drew her arms up, and I could feel the conductivity of the air begin to drop as she drew the water from it. A smooth orb of water began to form at each hand, light from the campfire casting sparkling light on her armor. Gava, too, began to condense it from the air, and found wobbly, wavy orbs in her shaking hands. Pysie nodded again, silent approval for Gava’s effort.

Suddenly, the two swung their arms around, and a coil of water began to form around the light, four tendrils spiraling around the bonfire’s flame. A few Matoran let out an ooh! of excitement as the light sparkled around them, a slight bluish tone cast across the whole village. Two stable tendrils spun around the flame, and two were much rougher, with drops falling into the flame and giving off quiet hiss es, turning to steam in an instant. The crack! and pop! of the flame filled the air as well, with the quiet, hypnotic woosh of the rushing water through the air completing a soundscape that left all in Gavo-Koro unable to look away. 

The coils rushed through the air in a hypnotic cage around the wild flame for a few moments, until Gava and Pysie shot each other a look. Pysie nodded, and Gava returned a far more nervous nod. Suddenly, Pysie stepped back, no longer directing the cage - now, it was all Ghavialia, in control of a mass of water drawn from the air and the sea all by herself. The cage grew unstable, faltering and hissing as it made contact with the flame. She drew her shoulders up, putting her full force into the water, and it rose up like a proud Rahi, coils drawing in and stabilizing, smooth shapes suspended in the air. It held strong, a newfound confidence in Ghaviala extended in the water like it was a part of her body. 

The water rose up one last time before suddenly tightening into a sharp column, the flame letting out one final roar before snapping into a decaying hiss, leaving us to the starlight once more. In a single motion, like a snap, the flame was gone, steam rising throughout the village. The only sound was the rush of the water in the air, held strong and keeping us as tense.

Applause broke the near-silence, starting with one clap from a Matoran, then three, then five, building to a roar of approval punctuated by whoops of excitement. Gava released the tension in her body, letting all of the water flow, a small rush pouring over the sandy ground, reaching my boots and the feet of several excited Matoran.

The loud applause continued, but Pysie stepped away, giving Gava her moment. She took my hand in hers, and whispered in my ear.

“She’s gonna be great. I just know it.”

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

We laid down in the hut, alone together, after everything was over. We took a moment in the silence, listening to the chirps of the nocturnal Rahi. I turned to Pysie, who was looking up at the ceiling, seemingly unsure. “Pysie?” 

“Yes?” She said, a serious tone in her voice, one I hadn’t heard since… 

A few memories of the coma re-emerged, blending together as they gently washed over me. Matoran gathering around, Pysie gently removing my armor, an argument with Puigren, visits from Gava. So much time was spent in that hut, and the times that my senses had escaped the dreams and the darkness, she was always there, in this hut. It was almost as if it was the only thing in her little world. My jaw clenched as the memories propelled me to ask her a question. I, too, stared at the ceiling, at this hut that held me, and our memories together. 

“Are you scared of leaving?,” I asked, quietly. 

“I am.” 

“You know, you don’t have to go with me if you don’t want to,” I reminded her.

“I want to go.”

“I won’t be angry if you don’t, it’ll be alright, and we can figure something out.” I didn’t want to put any pressure on her. Leaving is a huge decision.

“But I want to go.” She sat up, and we looked at each other. “I want to experience this whole wide world. There’s so much more than this village, this coastline, this continent. I want to see something new.”

I rolled on to my side, the tiny, uncomfortable cot barely accommodating that. “Why are you scared?”

“...I don’t want to… to…” She struggled to find the words, her hands balling into fists that I couldn’t help but find adorable. “To leave, and never come back. I don’t want… something to happen out there and never get a chance to say goodbye to everyone here.” The idea weighed on her like a thousand pounds, crushing her already-tiny frame into a shadow of the proud Toa she should be. 

I sat up, and reached out to her, offering both my hands. She gently took them, and I wrapped my fingers around her wrists. In one motion, I heaved her from where she sat, swinging her backside onto my cot, where she landed with a soft thump and a surprised eep! . I pulled her face near and gently ran my thumb over the cheeks of her mask, drawing her gaze to mine. 

“I came back, didn’t I?” 

She smiled, her eyes scrunching in that peculiar, particular way that only hers did, but with a sad weight to them. “I… I don’t know what I would have done if you never came back,” she admitted. “I always… knew something, ever since I saw you. And if I never saw you after some of the times you left, I…” She shuddered, and I wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “I don’t know what I would have done. I can’t imagine a world without you in it, and I don’t want to spend a day apart. But…”

“But?” I asked, pulling her closer to me, to which she wrapped her arms around me like a Rahi clinging to a tree branch. 

“But… I don’t want to leave them all alone. Gava’s great, but she’s scared, I can tell. I don’t want to do that to her.” 

“Hey, hey.” I said, grabbing her face and looking into her eyes. “Listen. We can plan it, and make it back here in time for the next grand ceremony that Puigren has you all put on. That’s not far off, is it? Then, we can decide if you want to come with me, or if you want to just stay here, in Gavo-Koro.” 

“I…” she said, moisture filling the air and threatening to bead in her eyes. “I… would like that.” 

I wrapped my arms around her, her arms wrapped around me, and held her, as she leaned into my chest and gently sighed. I rocked her slowly, a gentle motion back and forth, back and forth, back and forth again, until I could feel the radiating sadness from her gently dissipate, being replaced with a quiet peace.

“We’d better get some sleep, huh?,” I asked, softly, as she pressed her body into mine. “We’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow. The first day of your adventure!” 

“Yeah… our adventure.” She released me, and I her, and she began to go back to her cot, before hesitating. 

“What is it?” I asked, watching her. She looked as if she were about to say something, only to start towards her cot once more. Instead of lying upon it, though, she grabbed it, and began to pull it, dragging it across the floor of the hut until it was directly against mine, edge to edge. 

“There,” she said, momentarily proud of her work until a wave of embarrassment set in. “Can we… sleep like this?,” she asked, a little sheepishly. 

I laid down, and opened my arms to her. She immediately got the signal, and leapt onto me, our armor impacting to a happy little squeal as she laid on top of me, my arms wrapping around her and depositing her onto her cot with a little giggle. This time, I didn’t release her, instead moving closer to the edge of my cot to be closer to her, and she began to curl up, comfortable with her arms tucked in and her body pressed against mine, her cheek rubbing my chest. This moment felt…

It felt like the end of something, yet the beginning of something new. It felt like a book had finally opened after waiting so long. A gentle charge flowed through us, the energy of hope coursing through our souls just as the tiniest bit of my powers flowed through the completed circuit of our bodies.

It felt right.

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

“Are you done yet?” Ghavialia called out towards the medicine hut. Outside, all we heard was shuffling and occasional grunts from the Pysie within. “We’re burning daylight out here!”

“Hang on, hang on!” A muffled complaint issued from the hut. “I’ve got everything!” There was a thud and a clatter inside.

Moments after, Pysie waddled out of the hut with a poorly stuffed backpack she could barely carry. The bag looked a little ridiculous with so many things sticking out, and especially so on Pysie’s small frame. “I-I got it! I’m ready to go!” 

“No you’re not.” I said, walking over and swinging the pack off her shoulders, dropping it on the ground, and doing the same with my own. I opened them both up, and quietly chuckled at the comparison. My bag had space, not just because it was larger for my frame, but because I carried less and in less space. I undid all of Pysie’s panicked work, taking on the weight of medicine containers as I re-rolled her bedroll to be nearly half the size. Her Kiril stayed, obviously, as did the bundled chain for her harpoon. However, I wasn’t quite sure what to do with the… blue plush of a Takea. I held it up, to her minor embarrassment.

“H-hey, you told me to bring everything I would regret leaving! I would regret leaving Brouce!” She said, defensively. 

“I’m not judging. Just not sure how to pack him,” I said, with a slight giggle at her earnest love of the immature. “But I think I’ve got the most of it now.” I held up a backpack, now lighter and looking much more like a backpack, despite my own temptation to leave Brouce’s tail sticking out. She took it and slung it over her shoulder, adjusting it to fit securely on her back. “See, there you are. Much better, right?” 

“Yeah. Thank you, Ohmeni.” She walked over and pressed our masks together while I still knelt, making the soft chu that accompanied it. Something in my gut leapt with joy, and we smiled at each other as she watched me stand and sling my pack onto my back, straps held taut against my armor, slipped behind the blades over my chest and shoulders. 

“Ready to go and…” I trailed off as the reality of what we were doing set in. “...Well, say goodbye?”

“...Yeah.” Pysie said, looking up to me and giving a slightly unsure nod. She started towards the fire pit for the last time in a while, and Gava and I followed. Her strides were braver than I expected, but that was more than for the best, as she needed it for the journey ahead.

When we arrived, we found all of the Matoran, not sitting, but standing behind Puigren, who was only barely taller than them. She broke the silence first, tapping the ground with her staff to signal it was her time to speak.

“Toa Pysie, you are leaving us.” She said, looking up at Pysie, who was clearly nervous. “Toa Ghavialia, you will take her place as our healer and protector. Am I correct?”

The two nodded, saying “yes” in unison before looking to one another, awaiting the next statement from Puigren, anxious.

“Pysie, you have served us long. We will forever be grateful for all you’ve done for our village.” Her hoary voice was full of the serious ceremony we were used to, but… something else was beneath it. “And Ghavialia, you are an apprentice no more. Now, you may take one as Pysie took you, and continue the tradition. But you understand your responsibilities?”

“I do.” Ghavialia said, solemnly. “I promise to heal the sick, to protect the innocent, and to help those who cannot help themselves. I promise to honor the Toa cCode, and never falter from it.” I looked at her with a sense of pride - that little Matoran who begged for stories was now ready to make them all on her own. Puigren seemed to accept that answer, striking her staff into the ground once more.

“And finally, Toa Ohmeni. You understand what I expect of you, correct?” A piercing glare filtered through her noble Pakari to me, making her seriousness of whatever matter clear.

“Yes, Turaga,” I said. “I will protect life as the Toa Code demands me, and that includes my companion, Pysie. I will protect them with my life as I wander, performing my sacred duty as a Toa as the Great Spirit has commanded me.”

“Mm.” Puigren hummed quietly. “That is acceptable. Understand that if Pysie does not return to us in one piece…” The threat was quiet, but impossible to ignore, and were I up to anything, that surely would’ve rattled me. 

“I will, Turaga. Pysie and I will protect one another. It’s the right thing to do, and Pysie is so… precious to me.” It felt like a rock hit my stomach as I realized what I had just said. She looked to me with a surprised expression, as though she wasn’t ready for what I had just brought her into.

“Then it is decided,” Puigren said, before turning. “But there is one more thing, Toa Ohmeni.” She took a flax-wrapped parcel from one of the Matoran, and handed it to me. “It simply would not do if I were to send my Pysie out with a Toa with only a single mask to her name. It would be irresponsible for a Toa to remain so vulnerable.” 

I took the package, and unwrapped it. Inside was… a Kakama. An ornate Kakama, now a pallid grey from disuse, stared back at me. The cheeks were like waves, and I instantly recognized what Puigren had given me. I held the mask of a hero long gone. I held a mask that belonged to Laminae.

“I… I don’t know what to say, Turaga,” I stammered. “I can’t take this, it is precious to you.”

“And so you’ll take care of it,” the Turaga replied. “See to it that this mask does not get a great crack in it.” I touched my own mask, tracing the copper fusing that made it solid again. 

“I promise, Turaga.” I said, bowing to her. “I will wear this with pride and treat it like the treasure it is.” 

I could tell that something stirred in her, but she refused to show it. “Do not forget it is a tool, and you must use it. I believe that is everything?” She looked up at us three.

“One more thing,” Pysie said, stepping forward. “Ohmeni… you promise to protect me. Do you promise to let me protect you?” She drew closer to me with each step, looking up at me with eyes filled with a quiet passion and excitement. 

“Only if you promise to let yourself be protected,” I replied with a smile.

“I do.” She said, wrapping her arms around me, and pressing her head against my chest.

I held her like that for a second, before taking her chin and drawing it up to look at me. I had only one thing to say - “I do.”

I scooped her up in an instant, and we pressed our masks together, the passion causing a surge to flow through the both of us. In front of the Matoran, we displayed our bond, our need for each other, our joyous rituals to thank the Great Spirit for the feelings he had given us. And to it, we received a cheer, Matoran excited at our strange but joy-filled display. I spun her around before depositing her to the ground with her giggle, and grinning at her. 

“It’s clear you have the blessing of the village, my Toa. Now go - go and be heroes.” Puigren said, with an uncharacteristic happiness to her voice. We looked out at the Matoran, all happy to see us happy, and by the Great Spirit, we were. We were overjoyed in the moment.

And so, we went. We began our adventure - going wherever, together. Hand in hand, Pysie and I shared the joy of exploring and heroics, saving Matoran and Rahi alike. And all the while, we shared the bliss of our not-quite-secret - the gift that the Great Spirit left unnamed.