Tamir, Turaga of Fire
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Theme: Moon of Silence
Today marks the tenth anniversary of Ta-Koro’s fall. I have nearly scoured the entirety of Akota Nui in my search for knowledge, but I have yet to bring myself to traverse Ta’maunga Peak. Perhaps it’s simply my Ko-matoran instincts holding me back- surely I would perish in the heat, yes? No, the truth is I’m fearful- fearful of what may lie at its summit. Few Ta-matoran survived the incident- most weren’t present in Ta-Koro at the time. The few who escaped, however, claim to have seen a monstrous figure, silhouetted by the smoke of the volcano’s mouth, before their home was rendered to ash. Well, that’s what I’ve overheard from some tavernfolk- on a few separate occasions, that is. Many disregard these accounts as histrionic nonsense- that Ta’maunga simply erupted, and Ta-Koro perished in the resulting blast. Yet, none have dared ascend the molten mountain. Do they too hold such apprehensions? My travels have shed light on the shadows of our world, and I fear I’ve only glanced the edge of the abyss. What lies deeper in the darkness, I fear, would render me mad. Nevertheless, my choice is made.
The other day, I managed to find myself seated next to cloaked figure in a tavern on the border of Onu-Akota. I managed to glance her face beneath her hood- a gorgeous Ta-matoran. I could not contain myself, and I pressed for answers.
“What happened to Ta-Koro? Do you know the whereabouts of Tamir, your turaga? Did he truly perish in the incident?”
She quickly silenced me with a stern look. Drawing me close, she revealed the scimitar beneath her cloak- one which, based on its worn edge, had seen quite a bit of use- and said:
“Keep your voice down or I’ll cut your tongue out, or would you prefer those bandits make us toys for one of their clients?”
She was not mistaken- there were some rather-unsightly individuals huddled in the corner eyeing us suspiciously.
“I’m sure you know what a fine lady like me would fetch in the trafficking market, and I don’t plan on going back.”
Her eyes revealed everything- everything she’d lost. Her home, her loved ones- her innocence. I was overcome with a great sense of shame. Regaining my composure, I whispered:
“I know a simple apology will not suffice, but I’ll say it nevertheless. I’m-” She interrupted:
“I recognize you. You’re Kotapa, the chronicler, right? Look, I’m on my way to take care of some important business, but I need you to do me a favor. I know you’re searching for knowledge and stories and whatever, so I’ll let you in on a little secret, but only if you promise me something.”
Intrigued, I obliged.
“Good. I need you to meet me out back at midnight- tell no one. When we meet I need you to tell me all that you know about this:”
She lifted the top of her burlap sack open just for me to barely see what lied within- it was Tamir’s mask! Admittedly, I nearly jumped out of my seat, like a child, in excitement, but her strong hand, now on my shoulder, halted me. Again she glanced towards the group of bandits.
“One of them’s gone!” she quietly exclaimed.
Before we could assess the situation further, the missing bandit, unconscious, burst through the window. A female Onu-matoran, whose figure was hard and refined, kicked in the tavern door.
“Sygnus, it’s time we leave!” she yelled. Before we could move, the group of bandits were upon us. The Ta-matoran, Sygnus, and her colleague made quick work of them. They took to the door, but not without Sygnus leaving me with one final message:
“Meet us here in a week. When we return, our next stop will be Ta-Koro.”
~excerpt from the journal of Grand Scholar Kotapa
Will of Fire
“Remember, my son, fear the flame. It knows neither friend nor foe- only endless hunger. Guide it, so that it may consume the dark. Guide us, as I had once before.”
~Tavian’s final words
Bonus: Magma Swords
Relics which predate even the Ancients. Legend tells of a great leader whose flame shed light upon the blackest nights and brought an end to the reign of darkness.