//------------------------------// // Chapter 16: Accidental Infiltration // Story: Six Ways, Book 2: Duty // by the_bioXpony_guy //------------------------------// Before long, the two fire-dwellers found themselves walking on gray soil once again—only now they had a charred forest to accompany them. Finding herself a little spooked, Rainbow Dash had to try extra hard to keep her composure—but the further in she and Spike went, the more this place creeped her out. She felt as though one of the trees would extend its branch out and try to scratch her with its spindly twigs. Spike, ever the vigilant one, managed to find what he assumed was a path to their destination: a clean trail leading to an orange light off in the distance. He beckoned Rainbow over—but before he could speak, Spike heard sounds coming from the village; it sounded like talking. “Well, there’s definitely people nearby.” With Spike’s knowledge in volcanic villages, he was not at all surprised to see Ta-Koro sitting right in the volcano’s belly. A giant hole had been cut out of the mountain’s face, allowing anybody to simply walk inside. Whenever she attempted to imagine what one of the villagers might have looked like, Rainbow Dash could only picture something with the likeness of the volcanic frogs they had run into earlier. Perhaps that was the reason why the Ta-Matoran were unafraid of a possible eruption. Could the Matoran just blend into the lava and—if so—did Spike and Rainbow Dash also have that ability? Part of Rainbow wondered if they were going to turn into lava frogs, as well. As the Toa of Fire lost herself in her thoughts, her dragon companion—without a single word—pushed forward. At that, Rainbow Dash gasped and rushed up in front of him. “Whoa there, lil guy! I know you’re probably just as anxious to meet the villagers as I am—” Well…probably anxious in a different sense… “—b-but I don’t think we should just barge in, y’know?” Spike raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? Everybody else did it; we just have to go in one at a time.” “Exactly,” said the Toa with a nod. “So—so you should let me go in first. Trust me, Spike.” She turned to face the volcano once more. “I’m not sure about this village.” The dragon boy opened his mouth to protest, but was abruptly cut off when Rainbow continued, “I’ll be back in just a moment.” And with that, she stepped away and started on her path through the volcano’s arching doorway. The sound of boiling, crackling, popping rocks echoed within the mountain’s stomach—so much so that Rainbow could barely even hear her hooves as she trotted on the stone bridge. The air surrounding this place—unimaginably hot, yet in her case still tolerable—made her feel dizzy as she looked down at the lava below; she watched as streams of the molten rock pushed against one another, pressing and squeezing this way and that. As much as she liked seeing red, orange, and yellow joining together for a hot bath, she knew looking down for too long would likely result in her falling straight into the magma and to her death. At least I’m not sweating like crazy, she thought, trying to conjure some positive things to say. So then I won’t look all nervous when the villagers here see me for the first time. The fate of everything she knew depended on her confronting the village of fire with confidence. They’re probably not that scary! she told herself. I’m sure they’re not! They’re probably just a bunch of little pipsqueak frogs. She snorted at the thought. I wonder if their tadpoles swim in the lava. But knowing the last thing she wanted to do was offend the villagers, she knocked the thought out of her head and wiped the humored smile off her face. C’mon, Dash! her inner self screamed. Maybe they’re nothing but pipsqueaks, but you can’t just call them that! And just as that thought crossed her mind, the pegasus caught a clear view of two guards standing at Ta-Koro’s gate; seeing this place up close, she got the impression of a towering stone fortress. Both guards stood still—pitchforks in hand—as she stepped forward. As though the world wished nothing more than to mock her, the villagers were not at all what she had expected. Rather than frogs, the Matoran had a humanoid stature—with two legs, two arms, and a head on top of a long torso, like tiny red versions of Lewa and Kopaka. Rainbow Dash, feeling no need to remain silent, walked up to one of them—but found herself being promptly cut off. “Shoo!” the guard commanded, his long pitchfork now pointed at Rainbow. “Go on, get going, you dumb rahi!” During his sad attempt at scaring Rainbow away, he moved back and forth, as if unsure whether he really wanted to hurt her or not. The other guard looked as though he was about to start teasing her, as well—but before he could do that, the dumb rahi stepped up. “Hey, buddy,” she touted. “I’m not stupid!” The second guard finally spoke up. “By Mata Nui—it can talk!” “She can talk!” Rainbow Dash corrected. “Now if you can stop being idiots for two minutes, I want you to take me to your leader!” “Back, you animal!” the first guard spat, taking a step toward Rainbow. “Stay back or I’ll get the Captain!” Rainbow’s ears perked. The Captain? she wondered. Wow—I didn’t think getting them to take me to their leader was gonna be that easy. But even so, it seemed she still had a bit more taunting to do before the Ta-Matoran took her to the Captain. That in mind, the Toa of Fire stuck out her tongue pulled down on her eye sockets, revealing the pink flesh beneath. “Like he’ll do anything!” The provoked guard looked like he was just about to pierce a hole right in the pony’s chest, but before he could do so, the other guard pulled out a horn and as his mouth touched the ebony-like instrument, a low rumble sounded throughout the volcano. There we go, thought Rainbow with a sigh. Maybe now I can tell Spike it’s okay to come in. A few seconds of silence passed—and following the silence, the unified hum of even more horns blasted in the pegasus' ears. Rainbow took a look up and noticed a row of guards suddenly walking to the front of their fortress' top. As they did so, the two guards down at Dash’s level held their pitchforks tight in their hands, ready to defend their homeland at any cost. The pony gulped. Maybe I should've held back some of my punches. These guards didn't look like they were going to bring her to their leader at all; she could tell by the metal disks in their hands. She could imagine one of those little frisbees knocking her out with one hit if she wasn't careful. With an entire army against her, Rainbow Dash felt the need to apologize, but such a privilege now stood beyond her reach. She had little time to prepare as three words echoed through the cave: “Ready. Aim. Fire!” Still standing by the volcano’s face, Spike heard as a hundred of the Matoran's saucer projectiles went flying. He heard as Rainbow Dash screamed, evacuating toward the exit as fast as her out-of-practice legs would carry her. The village of furious guards continued firing at the invader—who already found herself halfway to the exit. A few times she'd almost been hit by one of the villagers’ projectiles, yet she still kept her gaze forward, not daring to look back. Almost there! she silently cried. On the very edge of freedom, the pegasus leapt high into the air, her wings carrying her away from this hell and toward the heavens. That's how it should have played out; that’s how it would have played out, had she still any wings to aid her. Her ascent brought her high into the air, but her descent brought her head to the ground. Before the pegasus could even scold herself for forgetting something so stupid, a loud clank! blocked out all noise, leaving Rainbow Dash with a searing pain in the back of her head. Within a second, the barely-conscious target went crashing into the ground. And as all momentum ceased, her hoof came just inches from Spike's foot. “Oh no!” exclaimed dragon boy. “Rainbow Dash!” Just a moment ago he saw her alive as ever, her heart thumping and leaping up to her throat, looking as though she might perform an on-ground sonic rainboom at any moment; now she lied on the ground with her mouth hanging open and her eyes shut. Spike noticed the damage the Matoran’s disk had done to her head and grimaced. Not sure if she could hear him or not, Spike grabbed the pony by her front hooves and said, “I’ve gotta get you out of here.” But at that moment, an angry voice sounded his way. “There’s another one of them!” somebody cried. “Get it!” Spike had barely managed to make out what the Matoran had just said when one of their disks whisked by, scratching his red armor. Having nearly kissed his arm goodbye, Spike screamed and retreated toward the nearby forest, knowing he had no other option. His heart pounding, the dragon boy evacuated, panicking as he left the army of disks to crash to the ground. He made haste toward the dead forest, hoping with every inkling in his body that he would escape. As the guards started marching across their village’s bridge, the darkness around Spike grew denser and denser, leaving the boy to trip on a decaying branch and fall face-first into the dirt below. Beyond his control, the dragon let out a yelp as he flipped over. His heart still racing, he got up on his hands and knees and clambering further still from the village. Yet even as he did, he couldn’t shake the notion that he had nowhere to go. Everywhere he looked, he found nothing but pitch-black silhouettes stretching their arms before the gaze of a red-orange sun. While wandering through the darkness, Spike eventually felt something smack him in the face. The assaulted dragon took a few paces back and extended a hand; in doing so, he felt a pile of dry twigs, branches, and debris crowded up in one space. It feels like a giant bird nest, he thought with a snort. But as he humored himself with these thoughts, the Matoran’s march only grew louder. Prematurely, Spike crawled his way into the nest, hoping to Celestia that nobody would find him. Once his small body made its way through, Spike found himself in absolute pitch darkness. Now inside, the Matoran’s sounds were a lot more muffled than before, relieving him like nothing else. It was as if the marching and violence was finally starting to die down. Unfortunately, Spike quickly discovered some other noise—something from within the nest. Someone—or, more likely, something—was breathing heavily in the nest, as though it were sleeping. The stranger’s hot breath almost completely filled the hot nest, making Spike feel as though he had just slipped into a cramped boiler room. As Spike suddenly tensed in place, he sensed the larger creature shifting in its sleep. Sweat immediately started falling down the side of his face. I’ve really messed up this time, he thought. Worse than not knowing what he had fallen into was the fact that he still couldn’t tell what this animal was; he couldn’t imagine what it would have looked like in the light. I’m getting out of here! But just as that thought crossed his mind, a voice from outside shouted, “We need to get the rahi’s adversary! He’s likely its owner.” In addition to sounding hostile, the voice came close—far too close—to Spike for comfort. To add insult to injury, sleeping animal shifted once again. But just when Spike knew things couldn’t get any worse, a voice in the distance called out to the Matoran. “Hey—it’s Tahu!” Spike wrinkled his nose. Who the heck is Tahu? He hoped to Celestia that this was the Toa whom Rainbow Dash would have to team up with. As the thought came and went, Spike heard some of the villagers outside talking—though he could barely make out their words. In the midst of the villagers’ mumblings, Spike heard a deep voice say, “…take care,” but he couldn’t make out the rest. All he could do now was lie in wait. Wait for the villagers to disappear, wait for the sun to come back up, maybe even wait for Rainbow Dash to come and save him—but as of now, Rainbow Dash needed a savior of her own. “You people really need to learn to mind your own business,” said a disgruntled Ta-Matoran as he spun the spit roast. “I do not appreciate your accusing me of harboring some kind of criminal. I thought I would be the last person you would suspect of doing that.” The two other Ta-Matoran exchanged a nervous glance. One of them stepped up and replied, “Sorry, Kapura. Just following the Captain’s orders.” Kapura grunted. “Tell the Captain to go suck a lightstone,” Just as he said this, he bent over and reached to pick up some of the leafy green material sitting on his spit. “I am starting to get sick of his attitude.” The other Matoran stepped forward. “Look,” he began, his voice a little softer than his adversary’s. “I’m not going to tell Captain Jaller what you said—but you’ve got to have a bit more respect for him than that.” At that, the victimized Matoran scoffed, “I will pay him more respect when he treats me like a fully-independent Matoran and not just an ussal crab.” As Kapura said this, he smashed the leafy greens with a rock. “Now then—please leave me. I have some personal duties to attend to.” And with that, the two Ta-Matoran turned around and headed back home. Once again, Kapura shared the forest with no one but the ever-lurking shadow of Makuta—or so the Matoran thought. Little did they know, Kapura had been keeping an unfortunate friend of his under a shelter for the past few days. She was getting worse and worse by the hour, but Kapura knew he had to help her somehow. He had once heard that cooking harakeke over a fire made plague symptoms go away—but that was just what he’d been told. He hoped to Mata Nui his trip to the northern jungle wouldn’t be in vain. Kapura wholeheartedly knew that if somebody had found his friend lurking out here in the wilderness, they would have panicked immediately. That was why he had kept her hidden in this nest of branches—one that would conceal and hold up under its weight. To make things convenient for him, he built a lid for him to lift up whenever he wanted to help her. His friend had waited long enough for some properly-cooked harakeke. Knowing this, the Matoran put his smashed greens on a plate, walked over to the nest, and lifted the lid. “What on Ma—hey! Get out of there!” After having hidden there for the past hour, Spike responded with a jolt. “Gah!” he screamed, holding his hands out in front of him. “I-I’m sorry! Please don’t hurt me!” At that, Kapura scratched his head. “Oh. Uh…I did not mean to frighten you, but—you see—my friend really needs help there.” As he said this, Kapura pointed over Spike’s shoulder. Wondering what the stranger meant by his friend, Spike looked over his shoulder and finally caught a clear glimpse at the animal he had spent the last hour resting beside. From no more than one second of staring this animal down, Spike recognized the cyan pelt, the teal mane, the single horn—struck pink with Celestia knew what. This creature, dirt smeared into her bright colors, lied nearly motionless on the floor; all of her that moved was her chest, rising and falling ever so slowly. “L-Lyra?” asked Spike, his gaze switching from the awakening pony to the Matoran. “What did you do to her?!” Kapura blinked. “Excuse me—I have been trying to help her ever since she came back from her journey across the island.” As he said this, he reached down to shake the pony by her shoulder. “She has been very ill since I saw her coming to Ta-Koro for the second time. I think she has the Po-Wahi plague.” Those last few words reverberated in Spike’s head. “She has a plague?” At that moment, he leapt out of the nest and shuddered. “Does that mean I’m gonna get it, too?” Blunt as he was, the nursing Matoran replied, “Probably so!” And after having shook Lyra by the shoulder for the past minute or so, he watched as her eyes opened into slits. Just a sliver of her yellow eyes opened when she asked through a voice so hoarse, “Kapura? Harakeke…thank you….” As she started shuffling in her place, Spike noticed that Lyra’s skin looked greener than usual—as if the plague had almost completely sucked out the blue in her body. In addition, he could easily tell her hair hadn’t been brushed in quite some time. The Matoran set the plate of medicinal food down to the horse’s mouth as she nibbled a bit of the leafy greens. Their bitter taste stung her tongue and almost made her want to vomit as it slid down her throat, yet still she held it down without so much as a grimace. Once Lyra had finished, she licked her dry lips and closed her eyes once more. The unicorn couldn’t breathe through her nose, so she sufficed to just keep her mouth open as the medicine worked its magic. Spike—well aware of Kapura’s thinning patience—knew he had no place in making a suggestion, but his conscience took over when he went on and asked, “Don’t you think she needs some water?” “Maybe,” admitted Kapura. “I have been giving her water, but the closest pond is in Le-Wahi. I would have sent her over to Ga-Koro if I had the strength to carry her.” The thought made him chuckle. “It really is ridiculous; you would think that with my Pakari, I would be able to hold her up with one hand—but even with two, I am not strong enough.” As he thought out loud, the Ta-Matoran took the following moment of silence to examine Spike. He noticed Spike’s Ta-Matoran qualities, as well as his alien qualities. He saw the unusual color scheme and thought of Takua and all his unusual quirks. Kapura realized this and asked, “So—you are from Lyra’s village, then?” “Yes,” said Spike, his response sharp as he bent down to pick up Lyra. “Now come on—we can’t leave her here!” Seeing Lyra lying so helplessly on the ground—barely conscious at all—made the dragon boy felt as if he should have done something to prevent her ever coming to this horrible place. Perhaps if he had spoken to her just once—or maybe if he had asked Twilight to speak with her, she wouldn’t have had the plague. She wouldn’t have been in worse of a state than Rainbow Dash. And right as the thought of Rainbow Dash entered his mind, Spike felt a horrible urge to scream. What at first was a battle to came to Rainbow Dash were those last few words: “Take care.” What did it mean? Did somebody mean to tell somebody else to “take care?” Did somebody say he was going to “take care” of the situation? Did the deep voice want the villagers to “take care” of Rainbow Dash? As Kapura started heading toward the other side of Lyra’s nearly-lifeless body, Spike sighed. “Wait,” he began. “I can’t. A friend of mine needs me.” Kapura scratched his head. “What are you talking about? Is this not your friend?” “Well—technically, yes,” he replied. “But another one of my friends just got taken by the Ta-Matoran and I need to go save her right now!” As those words flew off his tongue, Spike stood back up straight and started heading toward the village, his little feet carrying him as fast forward as they would allow. Spike had barely made any progress toward Ta-Koro when Kapura shouted, “Now, hang on!” Surprised by the force behind those words, Spike stopped running, but did not face Kapura. “Do you even know where your other friend is?” He sighed. “No.” The native Ta-Matoran shook his head. “You understand you may very well be beating a dead rahi if you go out there alone. From what I have heard, Tahu has already come and took care of the issue before I had even heard about all the commotion.” With that, Spike gave in to the harsh reality. Turning himself to face Kapura, warm tears in his green eyes, he sniffed, “But—but I need to save her—” “You need to save yourself first,” Kapura corrected. “You and I are at risk of contracting to Po-Wahi plague—and as of now, our only hope is to get to Ga-Koro and have the Ga-Matoran treat us of this illness. Just as well, we need to get our friend out of here.” Believing every word from this Matoran’s mouth, Spike came back to Lyra’s side, hesitating as his step-by-step route to her resting body came to its end. “Let us go, then,” Kapura encouraged, bending down and waiting for Spike to make his move. Shaken up but still determined to get Lyra to safety, Spike grabbed the pony by her rear hooves as Kapura held her by her shoulders. Kapura blinked and admitted, “You are very brave and full of will, young one.” As the wise Matoran’s soothing voice filled his ears, Spike looked up with watery eyes. Kapura continued. “And for that, I thank you.” In response, Spike could do no more than simply blink the rest of his tears away. He found himself tongue-tied as he and Kapura started hauling Lyra away. It took the dragon a moment before he finally asked, “Wh-what do they have at Ga-Koro?” Kapura grunted. “There is a lot of untested medicine in Ga-Koro. I am not sure if they will do any good for Lyra, but we have to at least try.” “And what about us?” “There are rumors floating about,” he began, feeling himself coming closer and closer to the nearest beach, “that when one puts himself in fresh water, the plague washes away. The only problem is that fresh water is not so easy to come by—unless you live in Ga-Koro, where they can desalinize it.” “Desali—what?” But before he could answer, Kapura, thinking Spike’s arms must have been aching just the slightest bit at the least, suggested they gently set Lyra down. As they did so, he looked toward the ocean and just barely made out the giant lilly pads and leaf-built huts; Spike couldn’t see a thing. “We need to find a way to get their attention,” said Kapura. “We can’t just swim over there; we could run into a tarakava.” Despite not knowing what a tarakava was, Spike turned his gaze toward the ocean and yelled, “Twilight!” After screaming her name from the top of his lungs, the dragon boy’s throat started burning. A sudden glint lit up in his eye as he set loose the longest lick of green flame he had ever released; its sheer size astonished Kapura. Neon green light flashed against the water. Lyra, head on the ground, blinked her slitted eyes and tilted her dizzy gaze up to the dragon. She saw a strong hero willing to give all his energy to save her, though he had never come head-to-head with an opposing warrior in all his life.