Myths and Legacy
Understanding
Written by Jeff Douglas
As Kualus trudged through the muck of the Destral Rahi pens, he muttered some foul words that were unusually applicable. He had been sent over from the main Toa barracks to administer feed to the Rahi—as he had been for the past month and a half.
When he’d been told he was selected to be part of an elite team of Toa serving the Makuta directly, this was hardly the experience he’d had in mind.
“Come and get it,” he growled, throwing brown muck in the troughs. “Dinner is served.”
Matoran scholars tended to group Rahi into any of six primary categories: mammals, birds, fish, reptiles, amphibians, and invertebrates. If any of these scholars had had occasion to visit the Destral pens, however, they would realize the system breaks down fast—assuming they lived long enough to report their findings. Between oddball Makuta creations, victims of Visorak mutations, experiments of Roodaka or the local energized protodermis entity, or some mixture of all of them, the pens held specimens that would even astonish Tren Krom of Matoran legend. It was an assortment that only the most fearless Toa could stomach, and only the stupidest Toa could operate in.
Which begged the question: what was Kualus doing here?
The Toa passed a wing of stasis tubes shipped specially from Onu-Metru to prevent the Makuta from having to deal with their creations. As he approached another row of pens, he recognized some of Chirox’s more infamous specimens. A saber-toothed viper with four tails and empty cavities instead of eyes roared in anger as Kualus dumped some food from the sack into his trough. Frothing with fury, it slurped up the mulch and spat it right at the Toa. The Toa of Ice stood rigid, frozen in horror and anger.
What was he doing here? Kualus had always been happy on his own. He was independent. He’d never had a Toa Team, yet when the Makuta had approached him, all he’d spoken of was working on an elite team. While the stale nature of the company had not appealed to him, he had been open to learning more about the Rahi he shared the universe with.
Even now, he remained unassigned. The Makuta were still evaluating where he would be best placed, not to mention still recruiting members for his team. Kualus had heard names and rumors posited by Makuta among each other, but nothing he could work with.
And in the meantime, he was stuck with this job.
The Toa of Ice moved on, grumbling an insult originating in a language that was old when the world was new, one he’d heard often enough from Makuta Bitil. Never did he expect to see the day he’d be so anxiously awaiting teammates. Distantly, he seemed to recall hearing about other Toa who maintained the Rahi pens before, but he hadn’t heard anything else about them. He wondered if they had perhaps found higher callings elsewhere, for duties such as these hadn’t been mentioned in the job description.
It wasn’t that he hated Rahi—not by a long shot. It was, after all, his ability to command a rogue Phase Dragon that had earned him the attention of the Makuta in the first place. Domestic Rahi were often friendly and even tame ones had their uses. Medium specimens were generally okay, and if they gave him any trouble, he could just use his Mask of Rahi Control on them. But these pens represented everything Kualus feared about Rahi: the predatory, the primal, the savage. Even the Onu-Matoran of the legendary Archives would doubtless run in terror.
He hesitated in front of a cage. A mutilated Kuma Nui sat reared on its hind legs, staring at him with drool leaking down its face. Reaching into his sack, he scooped out some more of the muck and tossed it through the gate and into the trough, then backed away. But the eyes of the Kuma Nui remained riveted on the Toa.
Kualus couldn’t imagine what there was to drool over. The feed the Makuta gave them had all the likeness of dirt, even though it apparently contained all the minerals they needed. Either way, as long as they remained fed, Kualus was content to let them have as much of the stuff as they desired.
He turned to move on, but a large crash and scuffling sound behind him caused his heart to stop. He really didn’t want to turn around, but he had no choice.
The gate was shattered. The Kuma Nui was in the walkway.
And drooling at him.
Kualus was vaguely aware of his fist tightening around the sack, even as he slowly came to grip with his reality. Slowly he started backing away, nearly as slack-jawed as the rodent before him. But for every step he took backward, the Kuma Nui took one forward.
Trembling, Kualus called upon his Mask of Rahi Control to assume mastery over the creature. But as soon as their minds made contact, he was met by an insurmountable wall of rage, desperation, and the most powerful force of all.
Hunger.
Before Kualus could make a futile attempt at penetrating the emotion, the Kuma Nui leapt forward, and lashed out at the Toa, who was too focused on his Kanohi to brace for the attack. He was thrown against a wall, his head dazed and his mask knocked askew. The Kuma Nui towered over Kualus, its rank breath enveloping the helpless Toa.
“Mata Nui!” Kualus breathed, wheezing.
“Wrrricht Chchch, chhhh, Skekekreak, srrrrechtik!”
The Kuma Nui reared, looking at something behind Kualus even as a powerful hand seized his right shoulder and pulled him roughly away. The Toa of Ice glanced backward to see a lean Toa of Plantlife.
“Squilll, rekikikik, srawl!” he heard, coming from the Kuma Nui’s direction.
“Jibrreeet, Fffffff Toa, Squilllllll,” the Toa of the Green returned sharply.
As the bizarre exchange continued, the Toa of Ice stared at his savior, trying to determine how hard he must have hit his head and what could possibly have possessed the strange Toa. For a minute, Kualus thought he was utilizing his Kanohi, which he recognized as a Rau, but a second glance revealed none of the telltale signs he was making use of it. Not so much as a dim glow. A few far darker theories drifted through his mind, but he dismissed each of them. The Toa appeared in full control of his faculties.
So how…
The Kuma Nui huffed gruffly, sharply alerting Kualus again to the situation at hand. Glancing one more time at the young Toa, it bowed its head at the Toa of Plantlife before returning to sit patiently in its cell.
“He says you’ve been confusing the dirt sacks with the mineral sacks,” the Toa of the Green chuckled, pulling Kualus to his feet.
The Toa of Ice glanced at the contents of his sack.
“It’s brown. Not black.”
“How observant of you,” the Toa remarked dryly. “The Kuma Nui would have been willing to forgive one instance of this. But you’ve been making the same mistake for the past week. She was going to eat you to make up the nutrient deficit.”
“You don’t say,” Kualus growled. He stared at the Kuma Nui, now curled up in its chamber, but still watching the Toa with a carnivorous gaze. It was still hungry. He glanced at his sack, then at the Toa who was now making his way to the stair system out. The Toa hadn’t been using his Kanohi, but the Rahi had understood him regardless. There was no other explanation. But no one could communicate with Rahi except with a Rau… could they?
Imagine all that you could do with that knowledge.
“Wait!” Kualus ran after the Toa. “Show me how you did that!”
The elder Toa paused, looking over his shoulder at Kualus. Half turning, he looked the Toa of Ice over at length. Grinning suddenly, he glanced at the Kuma Nui, making a “Szzzhhht!” noise and slashing across his throat. Kualus glanced at the Rahi and heard a rumble emanating from it.
They were laughing at him.
“I’m serious,” Kualus responded levelly. “You hold such power over this Rahi. I want to understand your secret.”
“I see that,” the elder Toa replied. “I’ll think about it.”
And with that, he turned and walked away.
✴ ✴ ✴
Investigation provided interesting results. The Toa of Plantlife in question was Ivarii, formerly a Toa Hagah of Spiriah’s who had never been reassigned. The reason Kualus hadn’t run into him already was because he tended to dwell deep within the Rahi pens of Destral, studying their behavior, using his Rau to teach himself their language. Ivarii, Kualus was told, tended to be reclusive, keeping to himself when not on mission. An oddball, everyone agreed.
An oddball that could control animals, Kualus would think.
Several weeks later, he still hadn’t run into Ivarii a second time. Frustrated, Kualus descended to the Rahi pens and searched everywhere for him, his own thoughts about the sort of Toa that could operate here taunting him. No matter what he tried, however, he came up with nothing. Kualus found himself considering unleashing a Rahi on himself—albeit far less violent than the Kuma Nui—when he whirled around and saw a pair of orange eyes regarding him from the shadows.
It was Ivarii alright.
Upon Kualus’ realization that he’d been stalked, the Toa gave a wide, wry smile and stepped into the light. In one hand he held a basket, from which he grabbed a handful of Bula Berries and devoured them. Kualus felt his innards turn at the primal sight of the Toa eating with his mouth.
“We meet again,” Ivarii remarked coolly.
“Have you been following me?” the Toa of Ice exclaimed redundantly.
“Only after I heard you stomping your way through the last floor. I get the impression there’s a lot of things you could learn from Rahi—and far more practical than just their language,” Ivarii remarked, hanging the empty basket on a nearby peg. “Have you ever considered a day trip to the Archives?”
Kualus was beginning to understand why the bizarre Toa was so reclusive. Mental note: he thought, Next time I meet strange creatures running around, offering tips on Rahi, don’t walk. Run.
“I know a bit about Rahi taxonomy, nomenclature, feeding habits, and flocking patterns. But a documented Rahi vernacular altogether new to me. Could you teach me this Rahi language though? I really do want to learn,” Kualus haggled.
Ivarii stared at him impassively. Finally he smiled slightly and shook his head.
“Come on,” he said, starting for the stairs. “Lesson number one: there are hundreds, perhaps thousands of Rahi dialects, far more than simply one language for ‘Rahi.’ Now… tell me something… have you ever heard of a present participle?”
✴ ✴ ✴
When they arrived in Ivarii’s makeshift dwelling deep in a wing Kualus had never known about, the Toa of Ice was surprised to see just how sparse it was. Against the backdrop of the Rahi pens, it would be jarring if not for how welcome the cleanliness was. Kualus hadn’t known what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this. The bizarre Toa immediately took to dropping food on a nest of Dagger Spiders in the corner.
“Spiriah let me assume a residence down here when I asked, although he didn’t understand why—even when I explained it to him. I don’t think the Makuta exactly realize the magnitude of the task they’re saddled with. Anyway… a little birdie tells me your name is Kualus. Is this correct?”
Kualus started to ask if he was being literal or figurative, but realized there was little point in asking. “Yes.”
“Good. I am Ivarii, in case you didn’t know already,” the Toa of the Green returned, folding his legs neatly. “I have always been fascinated by the languages of the Rahi, but I only started studying it when I came to Destral and saw the sheer quantity of specimens here. Like you, I was assigned to maintain the pens, but I came to spend so much time down here that the Makuta eventually thought I had wound up Rahi-bait myself. After I stopped returning to the surface, they assigned other Toa to replace me, not even noticing the Rahi were still being fed,” he chuckled softly.
“There were other feeders?” Kualus asked. “Did you ever teach them what you learned?”
“No. You would be the first, you can be sure,” Ivarii responded, donning a casual expression. “The others were far too insane after a few weeks to learn much of anything.”
Kualus eyed him suspiciously and the elder Toa laughed.
“Yes, perhaps it is not to my credit that I only considered passing on everything I’ve learned only after you asked. But you don’t need me to learn, my friend. There are far better teachers than I.”
“You’re the only one crazy enough to study it in the first place,” Kualus quipped.
“What about the hatchlings?”
“What about them?”
“Isn’t the challenge of studying Rahi language something young hatchlings overcome? If they can, why can’t you?”
“I was joking,” Kualus sighed, exasperated. “Besides, infant Rahi are completely different—they eat worms, for Mata Nui’s sake. How are Rahi and normal languages even supposed to be compatible?”
“If they weren’t compatible,” Ivarii said, tapping his Rau, “there would be no use for this.”
He leaned back in his seat.
“You can learn something from everyone, Toa, even the beasts. Consider that Rahi only focus on practical matters. They do not worry about how valuable their Kanohi is, or enacting vain revenge plots, or constructing gaudy architecture. They all think the rest of us are silly for pursuing matters that extend beyond simple survival. Only a fool confuses simplicity for unintelligence. Sure some Rahi are dumber than others, but aren’t some of our species less intelligent than others?” he chuckled. “Mata Nui gives all of us different gifts. It almost begs the question what even classifies a Rahi, although that’s not a topic I feel the need to explore, and I can tell you aren’t listening.”
At once, Kualus’s mind returned to the subject. “Sure,” he said, grasping at something in his short term memory. “You were saying it’s not a topic you feel the need to explore.”
Ivarii rolled his eyes, sighing. He stood to go. “If you aren’t interested, I won’t bore you,” he growled frostily. “We haven’t even started verb tenses.”
“No!” Kualus exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “I really do want to learn.”
Ivarii stared at him for a moment. At length, he turned and started for the door, saying,
“Well, if you want to get to the action, we’ll skip the lessons and throw you in.”
Before Kualus could register what he meant and protest, the Toa of the Green was gone.
✴ ✴ ✴
Ivarii moved fast, and Kualus quickly lost him. Expecting him to have gone to the surface, Kualus made for the nearest staircase and ascended to ground level. But Ivarii wasn’t there. Fearing the worst, Kualus started back inside only to see Ivarii coming up behind him.
“Where did you go?” he demanded.
“Retrieving a friend,” the other returned simply. Upon reaching Kualus, he raised his hands, the sharp sunlight a far cry from the darkness of the pens.
“The sun,” he exclaimed. “The breeze. I almost forgot what they feel like.” He inhaled deeply. “The smell of vegetation. And… some scents I didn’t know about. Tell me,” he said, pointing at the central fortress.” When did they build that? Destral was a forest in my day.”
“You’ve been down there that long?”
“No. I came up this morning to get Bula Berries.” he said, moving past him. “Are you coming or not?”
Kualus started after him, but he was knocked forward from something behind him. Looking up, he saw an unchained Lava Hawk flying after the Toa.
✴ ✴ ✴
“Perhaps the reason I have been able to learn so many of the dialects so quickly,” Ivarii explained as he walked, “is because the Rahi languages are comparatively simple in relation to ours. Complexity is needless, after all. Sure, creatures like us could expand individual dialects to make a full language of them; we certainly love to divide ourselves at every opportunity. But why? So much of our speech is… excessive, wouldn’t you say?”
Kualus eyed the Lava Hawk, a close relative of the Smoke Hawk. “So we’re starting with Bird?”
“We’re starting with Lava Hawk,” Ivarii explained gently. “Of all the Rahi categories, the dialects of the fliers are the easiest to learn. Just as they don’t waste any energy when in the air, they don’t waste any words when they speak. Best for beginners.”
As they approached the nearby Southeast Courtyard, the large Lava Hawk flew into Kualus again, throwing him off balance.
“What’s her deal,” he muttered.
“She’s teasing you.”
Kualus glared at the Rahi. Teasing or no, understanding this bird was already proving to be difficult. Not for the first time, he questioned what he was doing here.
As they arrived in the center of the courtyard, Kualus noted, much to his relief, that the area was very nearly empty. Thankfully, they had arrived in off-hours, and most of the usual individuals that trained here were off doing other things. Distantly, he wondered if Ivarii had planned this in consideration for his self-conscious student, but then he dismissed it.
“Are you ready?” Ivarii asked, turning to face them. The Lava Hawk flew past Kualus and took up an eager position on his opposite side.
“Your task,” the Toa of Plantlife said, “Is to do exactly as I do. We cannot imitate birds perfectly, but we can do our best approximations. Instead of their sharp head gestures, for example, we slash across the throat. Instead of chirping, we whistle and click. Make sense?”
Kualus started to nod before realizing he could be communicating something he didn’t mean to to the bird. “Yes,” he said.
“Good. Now, slash like this… whistle like this… and click like this,” as he demonstrated, Kualus did his best imitations. “We’ll work on it,” Ivarii remarked. “There are other signals, of course, but those are the primary ones. Now, face the Lava Hawk and do exactly this.”
The teacher moved slowly through a short series of the three gestures. Kualus stared at him, memorizing the series while trying to make sense of it. “What are you saying?”
“By telling her this, you’re making sure she knows you’re friendly. Go ahead.”
Turning to the Lava Hawk, Kualus inhaled deeply and raised his hand to his throat. Glancing once more at Ivarii who nodded his support, the Toa of Ice attempted to imitate the signals. As he gestured, the Rahi cocked her head in confusion at first, then rising anger.
Squawking angrily, she bucked her head, and rising into the air, she began peppering the shocked Toa of Ice with sharp pecks. Kualus shouted in surprise.
Ivarii signaled her to cease. “You just insulted her.”
Reluctantly, she followed Ivarii’s order and eased off the assault, but only after taking a close flyby near the Ice Toa’s head.
“Foul Rahi!” Kualus snarled, leaping back.
Ivarii chuckled softly. “She is very much a fowl, although I hardly think that’s what you meant. She understood your tone, Kualus, and she didn’t appreciate it. Try again.”
Kualus exhaled. It felt like pushing a boulder uphill, but he’d asked for this. Ivarii demonstrated again the series he was supposed to follow. Turning once again to the Lava Hawk, he tried again.
This time, there was an obvious difference. Like before, the Rahi cocked her head at him as he spoke. But then she started chirping softly in obvious amusement.
“Well done,” Ivarii was laughing so hard he was clutching his sides in his mirth. “You spoke perfectly.”
“What did I say?!” gasped Kualus. “What did I say?”
“You said ‘I fart Antidermis.’”
As Ivarii laughed, Kualus’s eyes widened, the reality sinking in that he had communicated perfectly with the Rahi. Ivarii’s joke aside, he knew he had established a link with this Rahi, a bond he had never realized was possible. A new world had opened to him, and along with it a realm of infinite new possibilities.
Ivarii grinned at Kualus as he exulted in his minor triumph.
“Now you understand something that your mask and its power never let you see. I wonder if exercising control over the Rahi prevented you from truly seeing them for what they were. But now you are earning that mask.”
“Just you wait, Ivarii,” Kualus grinned. “Soon an army of Rahi will answer to me!”
But the Toa of the Green sighed and glanced away. “That’s not the point, Kualus,”
The Toa of Ice calmed down for a moment. “Then tell me what it is.”
“You’ve been seeking to control the beasts, Kualus, another tool for your toolbox. If it’s control you want, just use your mask and seize their minds. You will have made new enemies… all so that they would answer to your every whim. No, you must unlearn all the attitudes you have inherited from the Makuta, who have lost sight of the very creatures they bring into the world.”
Kualus looked down, to the side.
“So you’re saying I have to do it the hard way,” he reflected. “You’re saying that if I want an ally, not a pawn, I must win them. Come to them on their own terms, in their own language, as no one else does. And… respect them.”
“Yes, you must respect them as fellow denizens of Mata Nui’s universe? Yes, although it is harder at first, you will get much farther by respecting Rahi, and not just controlling them. You know this as well, Kualus. It is why you are not satisfied with simply using your own mask powers.”
Kualus stared at the Toa of Plantlife. He considered it silently, and then he nodded.
“I understand.”
Ivarii eyed him carefully and then smiled.
“Yes,” he said. “I think you finally do.”
✴ ✴ ✴
The eager Toa of Ice made fast progress. Within a matter of months, he had a considerable grasp on the major dialects of the flying Rahi. Despite his teasing, Ivarii took great pride in the speed with which Kualus learned.
But little to their knowledge, Kualus’ lessons came with an unfortunate side effect—one neither of them would realize for some time to come. Ivarii spent more and more time near the surface, presenting, for the first time, his grasp on the Rahi language. As word of Ivarii’s proficiency in Rahi caught the attention of the Makuta, a quiet plan was conceived.
It was the day Kualus had managed to fluently talk down a distressed Gukko that Ivarii received the news. The two were privately celebrating in the Toa of the Green’s dwelling when he informed his student.
“The Makuta finally have a use for me,” Ivarii remarked. “I’ve been assigned a mission to the southern islands. I’ve been told the Makuta want me to use my language expertise to investigate rumors of a never-before-seen breed from the Time Before Time.”
“Alone?” Kualus asked, recalling legends of yellow, one-eyed beasts, and monstrous reptiles lurking in the south. “Aren’t you worried?”
Ivarii shook his head. “No. I am always eager to meet new breeds. See what they can teach me. It is my hope that I can convince them to ally with the Brotherhood.”
“I’m surprised they’ve never asked you to do that before?”
“Well, for a while, Mutran was always after me to translate Blade Burrower for him… But I was always concerned about his true intentions, so I always turned him down.”
“Why do you think the Makuta didn’t want me to go south with you? They should know I am your student, after all.”
“They probably don’t think you know very much,” Ivarii chuckled. “But it won’t be long. When I return, we’ll find you a Kaukau and start you on the language of the swimmers.”
“Really?”
“Nah, probably Mammal first. Both are fun, though,” he replied. “The trick is reading their body language. After those we’ll tackle Reptiles, Insects, Amphibians… and then the Crustaceans.”
“Well,” Kualus grinned. “I shall eagerly anticipate your return.”
“Just wait ‘til you see what I’ve planned,” Ivarii laughed. “For your first lesson, I will lock you in that Kuma Nui’s cage. Your task will be to convince it not to eat you.”
✴ ✴ ✴
But the lesson was never to come. Ivarii’s mission took him deep into the Southern Islands, and was never heard from again.
Weeks stretched into months.
Months stretched into years.
For centuries, Kualus never learned what had happened to his former mentor, but he held on to hope that he would soon reappear. Nevertheless, he continued to learn the language of the fliers, eager to impress Ivarii upon his return, before they moved on to the other Rahi languages. During this time, he was at last assigned a team—upon whom he imparted his newfound appreciation for Rahi—as well as a Makuta to protect: the great Makuta Teridax himself.
Despite having mastered the language of the flyers, Kualus never seemed to pose as much risk as his master. As Tridax once pointed out, what use would that possibly have against the Makuta? There was no behemoth of the air and no leviathan that dwelt among the clouds. Where a Toa that could command the whole of the Rahi pens represented a liability, all Kualus could do was summon some angry Kewa. The decision was made that he would be left under Teridax’s watchful eye.
Kualus could not have understood that in bringing Ivarii back to the surface, he would shed unwelcome attention upon the recluse. Yet he also did not realize at the time that through Ivarii’s legacy, which might once have been extinguished, would live on for perpetuity.
And as for the Rahi of the pens, for all they had suffered at the hands of the Makuta—all the abuses and misery—they too eagerly waited in vain the return of their old friend, knowing deep within their hearts that if any harm befell that kind, bipedal food-bringer, no pen could possibly contain the united powers of the Rahi.
Not even the Makuta could understand what they had set in motion.